"Suck that cock, bitch! Suck it!" Boyd Dexter said as he thrust his thick prick tip up between her protesting lips. Hope Hills jerked her head around like a mad woman trying to deny him entry. But, there was only so much thrashing around she could do being tied down to the bed as she was. He clearly had the upper hand. And the larger cock. He stuck it between her hot, drooling lips and felt the hard row of her teeth press against the his cock slit.
"Fuck me, fuck me," Hope said deliriously.
If Boyd hadn't known better, he would have sworn she had been taken with a bout of the fever.
Hope's pussy quivered and oozed juice over the thrilling prospect of getting such a long, fat hot and ready cock thrust up her cunt.
Boyd's wife eyed them from her trussed up position on the chaise lounge nearby. How she envied her friend for getting her husband's cock like that. Not that the man whipping her now with his own cowhide belt wasn't something. He clearly was.
Rugged, muscled and athletic, the guy was a stud as hot as any she had ever fantasized about. She stuck her tongue out a little in anticipation of getting this new plaything rammed down her throat.
The man responded to her pleas.
"You want some cock, don't you bitch!" he snarled. "Well, you're gonna get it. Just as soon as I whip the shit out of you."
CHAPTER ONE
"Well," Boyd Dexter said, turning the wheel of his car as he guided it onto the expressway, "at least we don't have to do that again for another whole year."
Paula Dexter sat quietly next to him, eyeing the oncoming traffic. She didn't like family reunions anymore than he did, but hell. Duty was duty. And they had promised to be there.
Her grandmother hadn't seen Miranda or
Lisa since they were toddlers.
"How much further, Daddy?" Lisa said, throwing her voice up to the driver's seat. "I think I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Why didn't you say something before?" Paula said, feeling herself grow slightly annoyed that her oldest daughter couldn't get her bladder signals earlier.
"I didn't have to go before," the girl said, sitting back in the seat and squirming.
"And I want something to drink," Miranda said, hoping that since her had a legitimate reason to stop, she, too might cash in on it.
Paula gripped the glove compartment with her fingernails. Family reunions were a heavy responsibility, but driving these brats back and forth to them was getting intolerable.
Those adorable teenagers of hers. They were driving her up a wall. She wished she could have done like her husband wanted to do. Lock them down the cellar until they were eighteen. Old enough to look out for themselves. Throw them something to eat once in a while....
But then, Paula never had been a model mother. And she couldn't figure out why, either. Her own mother had been so kind to her. Always giving in at every one of her insipid little wishes.
Even serving her favorite kind of ice cream after the family dinner. Raspberry nut swirl. She could taste it now. Whatever happened to those good old flavors of childhood? And whatever happened to her childhood?
A huge semi-diesel truck ground its gears and passed them on the left, chugging and spurting as it did so.
Childhood, Paula thought, closing her eyes. It had been so brief. She was one of those girls of who had grown up fast. Too fast, probably.
But, then, that seemed to have been what Mother Nature had in the cards for her. Her body started to develop from a lithe little girl's into a shapely young woman's starting about age ten. It was downright upsetting. Boys on the playground had started to hoot at her whenever she skipped rope of played hopscotch at recess.
She had always been pretty. An angelic looking child. Rosy red cheeks. Clear, creamy skin. And black, silken ringlets. Hair that looked like jet black strands of spun spider web. The envy of all her little friends.
Then, along about age ten, her tits started to perk up. It seemed to happen overnight. They were flat little pancakes with a dot of butter in the center one day, then the next, rising moons of creamy, succulent flesh with a thick peaked rubbery tip. Dusky rose in color and responsive as hell to the touch.
And she touched them often. Every time she went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Every chance she got.
Along about then, she also discovered she was a show off. Liked to stick her developing tits out in the hall of school. Get attention from all the guys and most of the teachers. And that was where the trouble began.
It didn't really happen till two years later, when she went into junior high school. She was twelve. Her pert tits poked against the cotton of her long dresses and seemed to catch everyone's gaze. Her legs had started to blossom then, too. They went from little girl spindly legs to long, shapely, well-defined flanks.
And she noticed hair growing between her legs. Lush, lustrous downy wisps of smooth bush hair seemed to sprout up everywhere on her pubis. That was no surprise. But what was surprising was how much she enjoyed pulling on it. Could barely stop. Even at school.
Sometimes she had sneaked off to the girls' room to play with herself. She would pick an unused stall, open the door wide so that she could see herself in the mirror over the sink across the room and peel her little nylon undies down over her sensual round thighs.
Then, standing up on the toilet seat she would play with her hair. Stroking it, petting it, moistening it with spit from her fingers. Then she would diddle her cunt lips till the blood pulsated under them, making them grow huge and hot under hands.
"Paula," her sewing teacher had said to her one day, "I write more hall passes for you than anyone else in the class. Is there something wrong with your bladder?"
She smiled a little faint smile and took the pass from her teacher's grasp.
No, she thought to herself, diabolically, but maybe there is something wrong with my pussy.
And, as the months grew on, she thought there might be. It ached and throbbed at all the wrong times. Like during gym class, in church, at the family dinner table.
Sometimes she would have to sneak one free hand under that table and pull her panties to one side just to wiggle her fingers up into her pussy slit and pump them in and out. She would manage to hold her fork with one hand as she fingered her swollen, hot pussy with the other. Trying to bring it some relief. Trying to put out the fire that raged inside there.
She got very good at hiding her orgasms. She would just pretend to have a coughing spell, or that some food had gone down the wrong way and moan and groan her way through a jolting, stupendous climax.
Maybe her folks were a little naive. They never seemed to guess her secret.
But other girls at school did. They would walk into the gym locker room and find her with her legs spread apart and her fingers thrust into her pink pulp hole.
And they would watch. Maybe from a safe place. Pretend like they weren't there.
But Paula knew they were there. She would have heard them come in. That always gave her great inspiration to perform. She would open the buttons of her little gym suit and stick her hot, ample tits toward them. Then, she would play with her nipples with one finger while she plugged her pussy with the other hand.
"Wow!" she would say, jerking herself to a gut-wrenching climax.
She could get anyone turned on watching her. Girls, boys, gym teachers. Okay, so she was hot. A hot little number.
But the boys in her class were too young and immature to date her. To take her out and fuck the daylights out of her properly, the way she would have liked them to.
And that's what lead to the big trouble. Her seventh grade Geography teacher. He was big. He was blonde. He doubled as the basketball coach and wrestling instructor.
"Good morning, Sir," Paula would say to him, winking her big green eyes, two at a time. Well, she didn't want to take any chances.
"Good morning, Paula," the elegantly-handsome man would say back to her. He may have been a jock, but he was not without class.
To Paula he was a combination movie-star, beach boy, sea captain, Olympic champion. She used to fantasize about him while she stuck her eager little fingers into her pussy and dished out all the clear honey inside as she hand humped herself to a quivering climax.
She would always sit in front of the classroom, legs spread slightly apart. And she would stick her tits out at him. Very hard. She figured she was the hottest little twat in Kingman Junior High. Probably in the entire city of Kingman.
And her Geography teacher seemed to agree. She used to eye his crotch for telltale signs of bulge. It lay pretty slack most of the time. Except when he bent low down over her little desk to speak to her.
"Paula," he would say, unable to resist the lure of this hot little nymphet. She was so forbidden, so completely charming.
And, then, he was hot whenever he thought of her. In all his thirteen years as a teacher, he had never encountered such a hot little number. A vixen, a teenage temptress, a Lolita.
"Yes?" she would say up to him, aiming her round, supple tits at his face.
"I've been meaning to speak to you about your work."
"Is there something wrong? she asked, casting her eyes down to the floor shyly.
"I'm not sure you understand Geography," the man said, feeling a little foolish. After all, there were many things he didn't understand either. Like why he couldn't get his mind off this little girl.
She haunted him in his study, in his car, at faculty meetings. Christ, even in his own home. He was a man of thirty-two. Well-adjusted. So he thought. Happy. He had always assumed. And ambitious. He had plans to marry a girl his age, from a solid family in Kingman. A girl he had known in college.
But still, he couldn't stop the overwhelming fantasies that plagued him now. And this little girl was always at the center.
She came to be an obsession. He grew frightened, morose, sleepless. He paced the floor night after night, trying to figure out a way to forget her, scold her into sitting in the back row, flunk her. Something! He had to quit dreaming about her. It was cutting into his time.
Then, the day came when he knew he couldn't stop. Couldn't any longer stem the onrushing flow of heat and arousal he felt whenever she walked into his classroom. That day he made a decision. He would keep her after class. See if he couldn't talk her into understanding that he was a man of simple, modest virture. And he didn't appreciate the way she looked at him, flirted with him, aroused him. He would make her see. He would confess to her his longings and sleepless night She would understand, she had to. But hell, she was only twelve years old.
"Maybe you could give me some home study," she said, licking her lips just at the corners and cocking her head to one side. "I mean, if I need extra work."
"You certainly do," he said, unable to think what subject he was teaching. Unable to even remember how the two of them had gotten into that room together.
Oh, yes, this was his classroom. He was the teacher. He was in charge here.
The bell rang suddenly and class dismissed. Hordes of eager youngsters filed out the door chatting, shoving, elbowing, throwing books and papers.
He walked solemnly toward the door and closed it. Then, he turned to face the engaging little angel.
"Paula," he said, trying on a stern voice for the occasion, "I'd like to say.. . "
"Do you play basketball when you coach?" she said, smiling and tossing her thick black ringlets off her shoulders.
"Yes, sometimes," he suddenly was seized with the feeling that this wasn't going to be easy. "But that's not why I asked you to stay after."
"If it's about my Geography grade, please don't tell me," she said, looking down and pouting. Her luscious red lips pursed together a moment and she threw him a sorrowful look. Like a lost puppy.
He wanted to run over and throw his arms around her. Take her home and adopt her. But there were more pressing problems. Like the way his cock was slamming against the seam of his jock.
"I don't want to know," she continued, biting that ruby cupid's bow Up of hers, gnawing at it nervously, "see I'm flunking everything but sewing class. I'm just getting a warning notice in that. I don't know what's the matter with me. I mean, I don't think I'm dumb, but.. . "
"But what?" the man said, forgetting his own plight and getting sucked into hers. Whatever it was it concerned him now. It passionately concerned him.
"But I just can't stop thinking about.. . " Her voice fell off as two little tears welled up in the corners of her luminous green eyes. "About.. . "
"About what, dear?" he said, sitting on the top of her desk and putting a fatherly arm around her.
"I hope you won't think I'm a bad girl," she said.
He shook his head in what must have been the biggest lie of his teaching career. .
"But I can't stop thinking about sex."
He felt himself slide off the desk and managed to catch himself on the ledge before his athletic knees gave way.
Christ, this little girl was giving him a boner. A big, man-sized boner. A banging, throbbing demanding big hard. It ached and pinched and tugged and pulled. What the hell was he going to do now, he wondered, unable to move.
"I hope you don't mind my telling you this stuff," she said petulantly, "but you're my favorite teacher."
"I am?" he said, feeling a thrill run up his spine. A heated rush of pleasure that he had not known since his team beat out their inter-city rivals in last season's all state junior tournament.
"Mmmmmmmm," the tiny tigress nodded.
She could feel the heat from the body of the huge muscle-bound man as he edged his way in next to her, sharing the tiny wooden desk seat, holding her closer to him.
"I just never can stop," she continued, happy that her counselor was an understanding man. "Even now I've got sex on my mind," she said, "see how bad it is?"
"But Paula," he said, smoothing a tangle of hair from her lustrous raven head, "I don't think that's bad at all."
"You don't?" she asked brightly, opening her big eyes and gazing up into his.
He felt his underwear melt as she looked into his eyes. His cock was now locked into a heated life and death battle with his pants zipper.
Paula stuck her tits as close as she dared into his chest. She had never seduced a teacher before. Didn't even know what 'seduce' meant. But here was the gorgeous man, the one she masturbated while thinking about practically all the time. And he was sitting right next to her.
And unless what her little friends had told her was a complete out and out he, his pecker was stiff. Stiff as a board.
"And the really awful thing," she said, letting out an adorable baby doll sigh, "is that I don't know anything about sex. I mean, I don't even know what a man's . . . you know.. . looks like."
"You know?" the man echoed, feeling like a robot. A robot with a very long handle.
"Pee-pee, peckerwood, dingle John, Peter Cottontail, lunch meat, French loaf, Moby Dick, pickle stick.. . "
"I see, Paula," the man said, loosening his tie. He'd never heard so many euphemisms for penis in his life. Maybe this little girl knew more than she was saying.
"I mean I wouldn't know one if it came up to me on the playground and shook my hand."
He felt his own cock throb with longing and heat. If this little nymphet didn't stop torturing him, she was gonna get a first hand education, post haste!
"I can't stop diddling myself," she said, in an open and honest assessment of her true condition. As honest as she could speak it.
"Oh, dear," the man said, as his prick aimed at the roof. If he didn't let it out for an airing soon it would rip his zipper to tinsel.
"I can hardly keep my hands where they belong, even now," she said, spreading her legs and feeling sparks fly up her pussy hole.
"Oh, shit," the athletic teacher muttered under his breath.
"I'm sorry," the little girl said, "but I just can't help it. Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
"Oh, no," he said, holding her close and forgetting himself long enough to stick his hard cock into her thigh.
Paula felt that hard cock poking her flesh through her thin cotton skirt. Through his thick woolen pants. And something gripped. Something uncontrollable.
"Let me see it," she said, surprised to hear the words flowing out of her mouth.
But flowed they had, and now, it was too late to take them back.
A bitter rush seized the teacher. A pained, agonizing block of tension and fear. This little seductress was tempting him, teasing him. Trying to get him into trouble.
He flew into a rage. The heat of anger pounded his temples so hard he leaped out of his seat. He thrust a sinister finger into her face and shouted at her hard.
"You little Bitch!" he roared, "you naughty little girl. You're trying to play games with me. Bad! You're trying to get me fired! Well, I'll show you. I'll teach you things most teachers wouldn't even bother."
With that, he unbuckled his belt and drew out the long, tooled strip of cowhide.
Paula froze to the spot. What the hell had she done? But, then, she realized, she knew very well what she had done.
He snapped the thing down hard on the top of the desk. It made a loud report, like a gun shot.
"Come here and take your punishment, naughty little girl," he said, barely able to control the rage that engulfed him.
"No, no, no," she said, shaking her long tresses and squirming out of her seat.
He caught her by the hair as she ran down the aisle toward the door.
He pulled her back. He yanked her whole little hot body down across his lap and plopped himself onto the seat of the nearest desk.
He brandished his belt high over his head and brought it down on her back.
"Stop, stop," she cried, kicking her feet in protest.
Unsatisfied still, his cock going like a jackhammer, he lifted up her skirt. Lifted up that blue and white striped short little skirt and looked down onto the silken nylon panties that encircled her ass cheeks.
Those hot creamy cheeks. Those crescents of nubile flesh. Flesh that he craved. Flesh that he couldn't allow himself to crave. Forbidden flesh.
He would whip that flesh until his craving died. Till it aborted and left him alone. This little damned nymphet was invading his life. Altering it at every turn. He would put a stop to it, and he would put a stop to it now.
Frightened at his own anger, he let the belt drop from his hand. He stared down into the crevice of her tight little ass. The delicious pink sphincter hole so spongy and hidden inside her ass valley.
The rounded mound of her pussy, split slightly in the center, revealing a plush pink gash. And those mossy tufts of childish hair, fringing the slit on either side.
He nearly wept. Instead, he raised his hand and slapped it down hard on her white, high round slippery buttocks.
"Owwwwwwww," she cried, tossing, pitching, squirming to be set free. She may as well have been a worm on the end of a fishing hook.
He throttled her with the hard, planed palm of his hand. He whopped his punishing hand down on to her gentle, quivering butt mounds, flailed her as hard as he could humanly hit.
The red welts on her butt appeared as like the blush on a peach. He had created them. He had put them there. But he couldn't stop. He wanted to slap her in two. Stop this obsession once and for all. Make his cock behave. Put it in its place.
But, unlike his mind, his cock obeyed another master. Its own. It stiffened up smartly, thudded against his zipper and jutted into the girl's tits. The little girl so cruelly thrown across his lap.
Paula felt the bite of his hand in her ass cheeks. And the thrust of his man cock against her developing tits. She couldn't decide which sensation was more painful.. . or which one she liked more.
The heat from her ass cheeks was igniting her pussy to a fast flame. Her hero's hard hand burned her butt to crimson turn. She was as hot as she had ever been in her life.
Devilish child that she was, she couldn't resist reaching down and fumbling for the man's zipper. She had sneaked climaxes before, right at her parents' dining room table. Why not sneak a look at a guy's dick? He probably wouldn't even notice anyway.
He was too busy thrashing her to within an inch of her life.
"Owwwwwwww," she shouted back, tossing her head and banging her tiny fists down on the man's knee. She let one hand drop a moment and stuck it down onto her tits. She felt them there, quivering with lust.
And just underneath, that man's plump prick was throbbing with all its might.
She fiddled with the zipper till it loosened. Then, she pulled it down.
She felt a hard, smooth expanse of flesh greet her delicate fingers. It must be the man's tool, she thought excitedly. She helped free it by tugging at it, though it seemed willing enough to get out almost unaided.
She wrapped her tiny palm around the man's huge pole and pushed it down, like a thick, long leer. It stuck into her stomach and bobbed up and down, as though it were attached to a spring.
She went back in and patted the man's spongy, hair-covered balls. Such gigantic sacks, like velvet cushions, she thought, unfurling them out of the man's pants as well.
The teacher felt the hard knob of his cock press against the little girl's chest. He felt it run clear pre-cum from the top of it, from the third eye.
He wanted to lay it flush up into her cunt, stick the whole damned pecker right inside her moist, wet hole, ream her to death. Put an end to this obsession, once and for all.
He wiggled his ass a little on the seat to the place where he could feel his hard cock head ram against the little girl's naked thighs.
"Now," he said, "are you going to leave me alone? In peace?"
"You got that mixed up, Mr., " the defiant little bitch spat back at him, "it's you who won't leave me alone."
"I'll teach you to invade my privacy!" the madman said, slapping her ass hard for the hundredth time.
He aimed the tip of his cock in between her thighs and slipped the panties that still ringed her ankles off and let them drop to the floor.
Then, reached down rudely with one hand and spread her hot, wet cunt lips. That darling curtain of downy hair. It pained him to think how precious it was, and for a moment, he hesitated. But this little cunt had to be stopped. He couldn't live with the images of her constantly plaguing his mind another day.
He readied his long, immensely thick tool for the kill. He arched his hips up hard and thrust the thing between her lips. And with one cautious hand, covered her mouth.
"Hrmffffffffff," she mumbled through his knuckles, kicking her feet hard, spreading jier legs to allow him entry.
His cock tip hit the little socket with a hard rap. He could feel the juices from her cunt moisten it, allowing a little penetration. He stuck it up, hard.
It butted against her tiny inner lips, trying to get in. No dice.
The man spread her cunt lips with his fingers, splayed them out hungrily. His cock couldn't be kept waiting much longer.
Again, he rammed his hard head against those plump, warm lips, parting them.
The gagged girl kicked and tossed her hips up, then down, dying for him to stick it in. But her protests were causing her as much excitement as his cock was. It was fun to resist, fun to be wanted so desperately.
"Little cunt!" he said, sticking the full roundness of his smooth dick head up inside her throbbing lips, "fucking little cunt tease. Now see how you like this!"
He ground his cock hard against her firm, shaking pussy parts. He squeezed, crammed, rammed himself hard up inside her. Hard enough to make his balls twitch, throb, and bang against his shaft.
That shaft that was even now coating its whole smooth hard length with hot clear honey from the girl's moist pink inside pockets.
Those delicious pockets of flesh. That tight, wringing hole. He wanted to plunge his tool all the way up inside her, all the way until it struck oil.
"God!" he cried as it hit something tough, "I broke you. Oh, no, I broke your cherry."
The girl stirred inside herself. Her little pink membrane had been busted indeed. She felt a little trickle of red juice seep down, down her thigh, then drip onto the floor.
But it was too late to turn back now. The teacher dug his butt muscles into the seat, yanking his hard shaft out of the girl's pussy, then, after a split second, he raised them up again and plunged back down deep, deep up in her.
Her untried little virgin's muscles were wreaking havoc with his huge prick, squeezing it, pulverizing it, grinding it to mincemeat.
The sensation overpowered him to near tears. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he tried to hold back the inevitable flood that was massing just behind the dam.
Paula gripped her cunt muscles even tighter, trying to capture and hold the big, thick prize that pumped inside her. And when she did, she felt the pump spurt. Spurt and spew and blast. The teacher was shooting his load. He was shooting his whole thick white creamy load of come. And he was shooting it up into her very own pussy.
"Oh, God!" he cried, as though cursing some unforeseen force that was making him blow. Making him blow his cock top.
The girl clutched the man's knee with both her tiny hands. She gripped onto it for dear life, for support, for safety.
Her pussy was acting up something furious. Twirling, spinning, wringing. Wringing out the torrents of white, feverish come that spelled an orgasm. Her first with a man. Her first come with a cock thrust up inside her.
Her first cock. Her first come with a cock.
"Yipes!" she said, arching her back like a cat in heat and feeling the big stick shift gears inside her.
She flailed her hands and legs out into the air. Out and down. Raining blow after blow upon the man's knees, his chest, his face, as she spent herself. Spent herself in a non-stop torrent of coming. Orgasm after orgasm of fresh, dewy come juice.
After a moment or two of silence, she stared up at the man who had beaten her with his huge fists. Pounded her sweet little rear end to a red pulp. And fucked her to kingdom come. Broke her cherry and screwed the stuffing out of her.
Then, she smiled. A gorgeous, baby doll smile. Delicate and warm.
"Nice," she said quietly, "really."
The man mopped his brow and reached for his still swollen and aching schlong. He patted and tucked it back into his pants as best he could, considering the fact that it still smarted. Smarted and flamed.
"I had to do it," he said, blustering a streak of meaningless huffs and puffs along with his words. "You were bad.. . terrible., naughty.. . horrid."
"I know," the girl said, bending over and picking up her darling little blue panties.
"You do?" he said, feeling like he might keel over from the delirious strain of the last forty-five minutes.
"Yes," she responded calmly, "I had it coming to me."
She stood up and came toward him as she smoothed her skirt back down. She leaned over and kissed him on his startled cheek. That stubble-covered athletic cheek.
"Gotta go now," she said, returning to her own desk and tucking her books under her arm. "Time to be hitting the road as they say."
He felt devastated, as though he'd been raped.
"But.. . " he started, wondering how the whole thing had happened. How had he allowed it to? How had he lost control? And where? When?
"Sorry," she interrupted, making her way for the door. "See you tomorrow," she shouted back, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her.
It stopped before it hit the door frame and the adorable nymphet stuck her head in the crack remaining, "Tiger!"
She winked and disappeared.
Paula Dexter blinked and sat up in the seat. She had nearly dozed off, just thinking about that day, so long ago. How long ago? Not so long, really.
Yeah, she'd been a hot little kid. A dynamite little kid. And she got what she wanted. She got her Geography teacher. Not just that afternoon either, but many times that year. On school bus trips, behind the library, under the auditorium bleachers.
Of course, they got caught. Caught in the act. By no less a personage than their illustrious principal. Mr. Henderson, principal of Kingman High. He had expelled his Geography teacher, basketball and wrestling coach. He had him thrown out on his butt.
Paula's family would have pressed charges, except that by that time, Paula had managed to get pregnant. Good and pregnant.
It was a scandal that rocked the little town. Rocked it to its limits. And beyond. The two of them were married, quietly. They had to go out of state, get written permission from Paula's mother, and it certainly hadn't been easy getting her into that motel, but they managed.
Of course, they had to move out of Kingman. Move to a nearby city, a place named Waverly. But Boyd got a job there, teaching. His credentials didn't seem to bother the school board that hired him. And it was a position in an all-boy school. A school for delinquent boys, in fact.
Their daughter was born a scant seven months later. A lovely bouncing blonde thing, just like her dad. They called her Miranda. Her birth was a bit sticky, considering that Paula was only thirteen when she was born, but they were lucky. All systems were go, and everything worked out.
That little girl was now a luscious honey blonde of fifteen, sitting in the back seat with her younger sister, the one who came a short year afterward. Their darling Lisa. The raven-haired one. The one who favored her mother.
The mother who had been a child bride only fifteen and a half years earlier. The child who had married her Geography teacher. The man who was sitting next to her now, reaching for the cigarette lighter.
"We're getting close, dear," he said, shoving the coil into the dashboard, "next exit."
He smiled and patted her hand on the seat. The man who had married the child bride. The little girl he had fucked in his very own classroom and gotten with child when she was herself a child. A girl twenty years his junior.
Well, it hadn't been a bad life. There were compensations. Like the fact that his wife was the most sensual, sexual hot little animal around. She had kept her figure, her face, her energy, and her love of bizarre sex games.
That had kept him loyal. Kept him sniffing her fucking pussy vapors whenever she walked across the room.
He hadn't minded the fact that her mother barely spoke to him for the first ten years after they were married. He wasn't particularly fond of Magda anyway.
And now, things had mellowed a bit. The family even invited them to their insipid reunions. Those once a year affairs like the one they were even now driving home from. It was strange to drive back into Kingman. Drive back there with his child bride, now almost thirty years old. And his two darling daughters. The ones everybody made such a fuss over.
And why shouldn't they? The girls were both paragons of beauty. Different as night and day, but adorable. Pert, wide-eyed and gorgeous. Exactly like his own Paula had been when she was their age, a little younger, actually.
So he had married a thirteen year old girl. So what? He was proud of her. Not that she had contributed anything intellectual to their marriage. She damned near didn't finish junior high.
"Daddy," Lisa said, pointing to the exit sign, "is that us?"
"Yes," he said, edging the car onto the ramp. His eagle-eyed little Lisa. The one who looked so much like her mother. Even now, they could pass for sisters. The three of them. Sisters. What a hoot! What a life, really.
"Are we near a filling station?" Randy said, sliding over to the window.
"There'll be one up here a bit, if I remember," their mother said back to them.
Lisa looked at the back of her mother's head. Her long, lustrous hair was twisted up into a French knot on the crown of her head. She wore it a lot like that, especially when they went out. It made her look a little older. But still not old enough to have two teenage daughters.
"Are these yours?" shop ladies and doctors and dentists and teachers and amazed people everywhere had said, upon the discovery that Paula was mother to the two of them. "I can't believe it. You're too young to have two grown daughters."
"I don't show my age," the woman would say, trying to stoop her shoulders and squint a little to make her look more matronly. It never worked. Their mother was just plain stunning, by any standard, and young looking, too.
The town of Sibley lay somewhere in between the towns of Kingman and Waverly. And that was fitting, since it was somewhere in between them in size as well.
"You know which street to turn on?" Paula said, anxious that her husband not get lost. It had happened once before when they came here.
"I think it's Green," the stern figure spoke back, "but maybe.. . maybe it's Rush."
"It's Long Boulevard," Lisa said back up to him, as the car hit the center of town.
Low, overhanging tree branches filled with the green growth of late summer hung heavy over the streets. It was a pleasant town. The Dexters probably would have come here to settle, since Paula wanted to be near her mother, but that didn't happen. Boyd couldn't find work here.
But, oddly enough, they had found something else here. And it was for that reason that they were making the stop right now. Turning off the expressway and riding through this town on their home from the family reunion.
They had been here before. About twice in the last six months. And this was the second time they had brought the girls with them.
But it was clear from the conversation at the filling station that the girls were not being brought here to visit with anyone.
"I want you two to stay in the car," Boyd said, standing up to find his wallet. "You can take a walk if you like. Go to the park.. . there's a lovely little park about a block away, I'll show you. But remember, there's been a death in the family, so you won't be allowed in. We'll be out in a couple of hours."
"You can stop at the store if you get hungry," Paula said, reaching into her leather bag and pulling out a few bills. "Soft drinks okay, but no hard stuff, okay? We're having dinner as soon as we get home."
Randy and Lisa found the coke machine, the little girls' room, and saw to their individual business there. They skipped back to the car gleefully and hopped in.
"Are the Hills nice people?" Randy asked, taking a swig from the soda bottle.
"Yes," Paula replied, "you'll get a chance to meet them soon enough."
"Do they have any kids?" Lisa asked, "any that we could play with?"
"No, they don't," Boyd said, rubbing the back of his neck. The long drive was beginning to wear on him.
The car rode up a long hill and the family got a good view of the western half of the town.
"Nice, huh?" Boyd said, coasting the car down the hill. "There's the park, on our left. It's got a little garden and a water tower, and I think.. . yeah, I think it has a merry-go-round."
"Just a little one," Paula countered, "now remember, don't talk to any strange men." Paula Dexter had more than the usual fears of a mother for her teenage daughters. She had a damned good idea what strange older men could lead to, and she had these two little girls to prove it. Had the first one when she was thirteen. And her daughters had already shown signs of sharing in their mother's sexual temperament.
She had already caught them playing little lesbian games with each other. Diddling each others' pussies with their burrowing little inquisitive fingers. Sniffing each others' cunts, kissing and hugging in the back yard.
And they had shown a great deal of interest in boys. Not older men yet, thank God, but they talked about boys a lot.
Paula remembered that boys their age weren't too interested in girls, so she felt safe on that score. But the girls were a sexy little twosome.
Attractive to men, any men at all. Miranda was an adorable blue-eyed blonde, like her father. Tall, svelte, athletically-inclined, intelligent and too fucking big for her britches.
Lisa was more like her side of the family. Dark, curvy, little, vivacious. But lazy, an idler, a dreamer. And she had a sense of humor. Her black hair was set off by her creamy ivory skin, her green eyes. And her well-stacked little shape.
Both of them had matured very early, like their mother. Randy was sporting a set of tits on her to make a movie star envious by the time she was thirteen. Now that she had just turned fifteen, she was hot enough looking to be a model, an actress, a show girl.
Lisa was even more striking in that department. Her tits were twice as big as her mother's at that age. She didn't know where she had gotten that characteristic from.
So, she and her husband had to keep a sharp eye on them. But, then, they were growing girls. She knew what that was like.
"Here," she said, her eye catching a familiar driveway.
Boyd Dexter turned the wheel of his car sharply into the long, L-shaped drive. The low, rambling ranch style house sat huddled next to the garage. He stopped the car in the driveway, behind the one parked there already and turned off the motor.
"Can we go now?" Lisa shouted eagerly, bouncing up and down in the seat.
"Go on," her father said, "but remember, two hours, then come back. And be sure you knock first."
The girls scampered out like kittens at play. Boyd Dexter slammed the car door and sorted the keys out till he found the one to the trunk. He walked back and unlocked it as his wife took one last look at herself in the rear view mirror.
He opened the trunk door and peered into the dark hole. The brown leather valise was sitting right where they left it. He reached in and hooked his firm, muscular hand around the grip and pulled it out, setting it down carefully on the sidewalk.
That innocent-looking brown bag. Their ticket to good times. The good times they were about to have with the Hills couple. The couple that sat just inside the house, waiting. Waiting with baited breath.
CHAPTER TWO
Doug and Hope Hills flinched as they heard the knocking on the door. They had seen the car pull up, so it was not a surprise. But they were jittery, on edge. And they were hot. The couple visiting them now knew that very well. Perhaps that was why their knock had a snappiness to it. An eager cadence.
Hope adjusted her caftan neckline and sauntered to the door, trying to hide her anticipation with a a slow, rhythmic grinding of her round, firm hips.
"Hurry," her overeager beaver husband whispered, half-out loud, hair under his breath.
They had made a few preparations for this afternoon, and he was in a big rush to greet his company so they could all get on with their little session.
He had fixed up the guest room especially for this visit. Seen to it that the bedposts on the big four-poster were sturdy, and in good repair. Brought a variety of ropes and nylon cords into the house for his wife's inspection. Tried out several different kinds of knots, practicing some of them to an art form. And, of course, done a lot of reading on the subject.
The subject of sex. Sex and pain. He and his wife were somewhat new to the practice, having only discovered the joys of bondage recently. The Dexters, so they claimed, were old hands at it.
Paula Dexter even confided to Hope that it was how they fell in love.
"Spanked me silly the first time we were together," she said, nodding her head and whispering so that no one else in the ladies' room would hear, "whipped my butt red and raw as a hamburger patty first time we made it. And I loved it. I swear to you, Hope, it's how we've kept the marriage together. Boyd never looks at other women. Unless I order him to, of course."
Then she had thrown that luxuriant black head of hair of hers back and laughed.
The four of them had met at a summer resort, early in the season. It was a quiet, lakeside spot. And there wasn't a lot to do there, except soak up the sun.
That's how Hope had run into Paula. The girl was stunning in her two piece skimpy little bikini. She could hardly believe she had two daughters. She figured they must be babies. Then, she showed her a picture of them. Radiantly beautiful young ladies, one looking just like her mother.
"You must have been a baby when you got married," she said with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.
She didn't know how right she had actually been. The girls got the idea of introducing their husbands to each other. The men were about the same age, Doug being a little younger. Doug was a sportsman. A fisherman, a water skier, a golfer, a weight lifter.
The two had a lot in common. And so it was no surprise that they ended up for cocktails the next afternoon at the Dexter cottage.
"It's just a little summer place," Doug said, proud of the place that he had actually built for the most part with his own hands, "but we like it."
"It's good to have a regular place to bring the girls," Paula said, mixing a drink at the bar in the living room alcove, "even for just the weekends."
"Where are they?" Hope asked, anxious to see them.
"Scout camp," Paula said, taking a sip of her drink and finding it a little stronger than she had intended. Oh, well, what the hell.
She carried the tray in and the four of them sat back and passed the afternoon pleasantly enough.
Of course, Hope wanted to see the house. So Paula took her on a little walking tour. The place struck her as quaint, rustic, if a little overdone for a place in the country. But then, Paula didn't work, like she did, so she had a lot of time to over-decorate.
"What's that?" she said, noticing an odd-looking paddle lying on the dresser of the master bedroom.
It was rather a crude affair, looked homemade. The handle was thick and wound tightly with cord. The paddle part was huge. A giant wooden disc, covered with thick layers of dark, ribbed rubber. It looked mean. It couldn't have been a ping pong paddle. Her curiosity got the better of her before she had a chance to censor herself.
"Oh," Paula said, smiling a little teasing, elfin grin and swinging her hips nonchalantly, "just a paddle."
"Oh," Hope said, wondering if she should drop the subject. Maybe she shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place.
"Boyd uses it on me before we have sex," the bold-faced woman said calmly.
Paula was scrupulous about hiding these things from her girls, but to women her own age, she saw no reason at all not to share them. After all, she enjoyed it. Why shouldn't others? Besides, she was incredibly naive about sex, and other peoples' sexual habits. She had never known anyone but her husband.
At least not before that summer. She turned and started out the door. Hope stood in the center of the room, flabbergasted. Her mouth flapped open before she spoke.
"What?" was all she could get out.
"You heard me," Paula said, watching for her reaction. "He spanks me a little before we do it. You know, in case I've been naughty."
"Naughty?" the beautiful red-haired Hope replied, "How so?"
Paula chewed on the piece of gum in her , mouth a moment. Then, she leaned against the door frame and looked into the woman's sullen, big gray eyes.
"Wanna see?" she said, maintaining a calm exterior.
"Okay," the woman said, tentatively. She wasn't sure, but then, she really would like to see it. Hmmmmmmm.....
"Let's go on out into the other room and I'll show you. Just play along and don't get scared. Remember, I love it."
The two of them went off into the living room giggling a little.
Doug Hills watched the two woman bounce up to the bar and huddle a moment with their heads together. He had his eye on Paula Dexter's hot, round buttocks. They were tucked up inside the bikini like cantaloupes in a tight crate. And those tits of hers. God, they were luscious.
Not that his wife didn't turn him on. She was a stunning redhead, taller than Paula. A svelte figure of a woman. With elongated sloping tits that managed to end on a high point in big, slippery thick silver dollar size nipples. Her ample pussy bush was a tawny red color that always provided him with an instant turn on whenever she flashed at him.
But those times had become fewer and fewer over the last ten years. Their marriage had ground down to a dull routine. Sex was fun with her, but predictable. They had talked about it. He had tried, but maybe he lacked something, too.
He had nothing to be ashamed of in the physique department. He was a well-muscled and finely-featured figure of a man. Ruggedly handsome, with massive beefy shoulders and chest and long, layered brown hair. A thick moustache clung to his upper lip, giving him a jaunty appearance.
He was especially proud of his cock. He had seen other men in the various locker rooms where he had worked out and played golf. As all men do. And he had a chance to compare and he was not wanting in that department.
That cock of his usually started to tingle a little when he thought about his wife. She was a stunner. If only their sex life had been a little more exciting. If only either of them had a little more imagination. If only.
His mind leapt back to the present as Paula and Hope reappeared. Paula Dexter is a hot little number, he thought to himself. But she's also some other dude's wife. He nixed any thoughts he might have had about getting into her panties. She seemed, after all, totally hung up on her husband.
She had the look of a cat who had swallowed a whole canary when she popped back into the room.
"Boyd," she said in a voice full of whines, "you left the lid off the coffee canister."
"Sorry," Boyd said, half-heartedly. He and Doug were talking about pike fishing and he didn't particularly like being disturbed by such trivial matters.
"You also left the door to the basement open," she said, "you know how I hate that."
"Well, then, shut it," the man said, with a growing tinge of annoyance running just under the current of his exterior.
"No!" Paula said, slamming one bare foot down onto the floor and clutching both her fists together like a spoiled child.
"What did you say?" Boyd said, annoyed that company should have to hear such a petty little domestic squabble.
"I said shove it up your ass," Paula said, knowing she wasn't making the least amount of sense, but dying to get on with it. She could feel the blood rushing to her cunt lips in preparation for her punishment. It always got her so hot, just looking at the little blood vessel in Boyd's temple when he got angry with her.
"You little bitch!" the man said, standing up and lunging toward her.
Hope had to stand back so she wouldn't get knocked down in the charge.
"How dare you talk like that to me in front of our guests," he said, shaking her hard by the shoulders.
Doug sat bolt upright in his wicker chair. He swore he could hear the woman's teeth chatter. What the hell would happen next, he had no idea.
"Ooooooh," Paula said, "listen to the big man swear at his wife, will you? Aren't you tough tenderloin?"
Doug braced himself for the inevitable slap he felt sure would follow. After all, the woman was asking for it. But nothing. No sound, no slap, no noise at all. Except that of scuffling feet.
Hope watched as Boyd half-dragged, half-shoved his wife up the few steps leading to the bedroom. She grabbed back at him, trying to fight him off. And as the two of them practiced dirty wrestling holds on each other, all the way into the bedroom, she felt her own temperature rise a degree or two. The little show, and whatever was to come, were getting her hot.
"Hope, honey," Doug said, standing up, "I think maybe we better go. It's no good our being...."
"It's okay," she said back to her handsome hunk of a husband in a quiet voice, "come on."
She wiggled her finger at him so that he would follow her up the stairs. She tiptoed up and made her way to the master bedroom.
The sounds coming from down that hall were deafening. The two were screaming and pelting each other. Each insisting the other was a jack-ass, jerk-off, loser, or whatever. And the sounds of slaps, kicks, even some scratching and spitting filled the little cottage.
"What the hell are you doing?" Doug said as his wife led him down the hall.
He had never seen her so curious or impertinent. She usually left other people alone to take care of their own business. She wasn't the type to pry. Or stick around where she wasn't wanted. So what the hell was she doing?
"It's okay, I promise you," she said, winking at him a knowing wink.
His wife had never lied to him, not ever that he knew of. So, as unsure as he was about the whole episode, he set off after her.
The door of the master bedroom was open about half. The two guests could easily see inside from where they stood in the hall.
And they could see plenty.
Paula was sitting on the bed, tossing her whole body around, trying to squirm away from her husband's hard grasp.
"No, no, no," she said, sobbing, kicking, and shouting.
"You know what you've done," the huge blonde man said back to her, "and now you're going to have to pay for it."
"Make me," she shot back like a petulant child.
She sat rigid as a statue with her hands folded across her gorgeous bosom as her husband spun around the room, looking for something.
Doug had no idea what, except it he thought it might have been a shot gun.
Boyd found the paddle and raced back to his wife, brandishing it over his head.
"I'm gonna make you sorry you ever opened your insipid little mouth," he said hotly charging her.
She covered her eyes and cowered back on the bed. "No, don't.. . Please."
It seemed to be a little late for please, Doug thought watching the two tear at each other. He had never struck his wife, and believed, like most gentlemen of his station, that it was strictly the wrong thing to do.
"Don't ever hit a girl," his mother had said to him when he was young, "girls can't defend themselves properly. You'll hurt 'em."
He had stuck to it, too. Even though Hope had pissed him off a few times. He may have shouted, stayed all night at the office to upset her, even walked out on her once for a whole week, but never, never had he raised a hand to her.
This presented a strange, alien picture to his mind.
Hope was no less confused, even though she had been warned what would happen by Paula.
She didn't much care for violence. It repulsed her. She couldn't even see most movies because she got sick in the theatre whenever there was blood. But this was different somehow. This was more acceptable to her. Actually, knowing what she knew, that Paula loved it, as she said, it looked kind of fun.
Still, that paddle looked hard. And it looked just as hard now that Boyd Dexter was waving it around in the air.
"Mouthy cunt!" he said, sneering at her like an evil satyr. "Get down here."
She wouldn't move from her perch near the headboard of their huge double bed. She shook her head in defiance.
"COME HERE!! ! " the man was getting a little overbearing.
The Hills couple watched, unable to move, to speak, to even think about what was happening. The scene in front of their eyes riveted them to the spot.
"Insolent bitch!" the man cried again, reaching for one slender ankle of his wife's foot, "get down here and take what's coming to you."
"Make me," the little beauty said, her eyes blazing up at him.
Doug could barely believe her persistence. How could this little woman, barely more than a girl really, think of defying this huge hulk of a man? It made no sense. Why didn't she just say she was sorry and beg his forgiveness? Throw herself on his mercy? It looked like he might whip her to shreds.
Boyd yanked the tiny body toward him and grabbed the bottom of her blue bikini with his hand. He locked it there a moment, then ripped the thing right off her. It came off in one piece, tattered where it split, waving in his hand.
He tossed it to the floor and lunged for the girl.
"No, no, no, no!! ! ! ! " her screams rose to the rafters. "Stop it, stop it, stop it."
"Too late, little one," the man said, almost calmly.
He flung the protesting woman over his knee and took a spot on the edge of the bed. Then, with the paddle firmly locked in his hand, he began beating a rain or blows on her adorable upraised ass cheeks.
Both Hope and Doug couldn't help but admire the woman's body. Her adorable raven-haired pussy patch had flashed brilliantly out at them, but only for a split second.
What they saw now was her delectable butt mounds. Perfectly rounded and muscled. Creamy, unlike her tanned body. And moist, slippery. They could tell that from the sound the paddle made when it struck against them.
The girl waved her arms and kicked her legs screaming aloud in a hail of protests.
"Stop it!"
"Let me go, you animal!! "
"I'll get you for this, I will."
"Brute, stop it!! ! ! "
"Stop it!! ! ! ! ! ! ! "
"Cut it out, Scum Bag!"
The man continued his non-stop assault on his wife's pert little rear end. And it proved to be an assault on Hope's throbbing pussy. She was getting aroused as she hadn't been in a long time, even though she would have denied it, if asked.
Doug, too, was feeling the pinch. His huge man cock had started to take an upward turn. It had begun getting longer and harder and thicker as each slap found its way to the girl's sweet hot ass.
Paula Dexter dug her fingernails into her husband's thighs and shook her head. She could feel the sting of the close, tight harsh blows down on her ass cheeks. It tingled, it burned, it seethed. And it turned her on so hard her cunt lips clanged together.
Her husband looked evil and sinister as he paddled his naughty wife. He dug his paddle across the upraised welts he had already created. Her butt was getting a good hammering all right. The welts were real enough. The reddish tracks they made could be documented with a camera, or any witnesses. They weren't fake. Her screams weren't fake, either, they were shrill and loud. Honest reports of her painful predicament. His hard on was real, too. His cock and balls were slamming against each other and his shorts, trying to get out and do their thing.
Still, he pounded his little wife furiously. Like a tempest pounding a floundering dinghy at sea.
"Little bitch queen!" he said, heatedly.
"Naughty little girl."
"Fucking cunt, you deserve it."
"Don't you ever talk that way to me again, do you hear?"
"Spoiled little brat, I'll whip you till you can't sit down."
His words smote Doug in the pants. His cock was growing by centimeters every second. Soon it would be out to its full length, its length of readiness. Then, what the hell was he going to do about it. He felt his cock head beating against his shorts seam. He wanted to reach right down there and loosen his belts, unzip hids pants, and give it an airing. Christ, it was a temptation.
Hope moved back so that her butt was sticking into her husband's front side. She felt his growing cock hard on with her butt cheeks. She pressed herself hard against him, pressing his big dick into the crevice between her butt. She wiggled it a little bit.
That's a surprise, Doug thought to himself. Unable to believe that it was his wife shoving her butt into his cock. She didn't do things like this. She only got excited in bed. After the lights were off. After she had put the dishes into the dishwasher. And called her Mom.
But here she was, surprising him. And so pleasantly. She continued her little wiggling move, up and down, then from side to side. All in glorious accompaniment to the licking Dexter was giving his wife.
"You're hot!" his wife said, in a new sexy little voice he hadn't heard before.
He reached around to the front of her shorts and pressed his hand against her pussy, hard. "So are you," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. "So the fuck are you."
From where Hope was standing, it looked like they weren't the only ones who were hot. She could see a massive bulge in Boyd's pants.
And another surprise. His wife was pulling off the top of her bikini.
Her enormous tits swung free a moment as she raised her head up like a seal touching its toes. Then, she flopped back down and writhed some more against her husband's outstretched knees.
But there was a method to her acts. She could reach down and pull on his zipper from that position. And she wasted no time doing so.
"Hey, Brute," she said, looking up at him and speaking loud enough for the onlookers to hear, "that hurts."
"So does my cock, Bitch," the man growled. "And you're gonna find out how much."
He threw the tiny body to one side and unzipped his zipper with one knowing hand. His wife tried to squirm away in the short time it took him, but it was useless. He grabbed her by the thighs, yanked her back, and for good measure, spread them apart like scissors at their widest point.
He grabbed a handful of pillows from atop the bed and stuffed them under her butt. That sore, bruised little butt!
God, Hope thought, watching the show intently, that ass of hers must hurt right about now. How can she stand it?
The man turned his wife over in one swoop, and placed her up on all fours. He shoved the pillows under his own knees to give him comfort and a little extra height.
Oh, God, Doug thought to himself, that man's gonna fuck his wife and we're standing right here watching the whole thing. He felt like a voyeur. A busybody. A prying neighbor. But he was too aroused to walk away just now. So, he stood there and watched. Watched with a passion.
Hope eyed the man's gigantic throbbing hard on. It looked like a salami. Reddish, evil, threatening and hard. Very hard.
She reached around to where her husband's cock was bivouacked tightly inside his pants. She peeled his zipper down slowly, tantalizingly.
Doug had never felt her hands operating his zipper like that before. She usually waited until he had his pajamas on touch him. But here she was undressing him and seemingly loving it. What a switch! What a turn on!!
Hope wound her hand around her husband's staunch cock. She felt the moisture of his cock dome. She slicked it down with her fingers, all the way down his huge, hard shaft. She began making little pumping movements with her hand, aiming her man's schlong tip toward her own ass.
Doug felt his knees go watery with excitement. His own little wife! Doing such daring and naughty things, right in front of this other couple. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Possibly their sex relationship was in for a new lease.
"Ooooooh," Paula let out as the tip of her muscle-bound husband nudged up inside her aching pink cunt lips. He managed to continue beating her butt as he slipped his long rod up her pussy slit.
All the way up. It sent her into paroxysms of delirious joy. Her cunt lips parted, receiving the whole of his massive man meat up high, higher inside her.
"Lousy cunt!" her man snarled, beating her with the paddle and plugging her cunt with his prick.
The combination of hitting and humping had him in seventh heaven. His huge prick rammed his wife's tiny little opening and delivered blow after blow to her aching butt rounds.
In the position he was fucking her, he could see the sweet little dusky rose sphincter between her ass cheeks. It puckered invitingly as he plowed her silly.
"Stick it to her," Hope said, surprised at the sound of her own voice.
"Fuck that cunt," Doug joined in, ramming his stiff rod against his wife's backside. He wanted it inside her. He wanted it in there like crazy.
He couldn't wait another second. He reached around and found her tiny little zipper. He unbuttoned her shorts and split the zipper down straight with his fingers.
Then, he eased her right out of her shorts. And he brought her silken panties down around her ankles with them, too. He couldn't wait. And he knew he couldn't. He hadn't been this hot since the first time he had made it with her.
Cupping his hands around his wife's gigantic upward sloping tits, he nailed his dick firmly into the inviting little wet hole between her legs. He was fucking her from the back, as he hadn't done in a long time.
And what was even more incredible, they were standing up. Christ, he was fucking her and it wasn't even bedtime!
He closed his eyes in ecstasy and felt his cock ram up into her slithery little cunt hole. It felt so hot and ready inside there. So creamy and mysterious. It gripped him hard as he banged her with a vengeance.
"Fuck me," she said, dreamily back to him, "oh, that's wild. That's insane. Fuck my cunt. Fuck me, you stud you."
He couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe her mouth. He couldn't believe that his cock was as stiff and hard and angry as it was.
The sounds of the couple on the bed fucking in and out, in and out, and the pounding of the paddle against the girl's outstretched flanks made everyone in the little foursome deliriously hot. Hotter than the beach.
"Take that, Bitch," the man called down to his wife, who was immobilized by the fucking she was getting.
"Take that up your lousy little cunt," he said again, raining another slap to her hot, reddish-tinged behind.
"Now, get fucked, Cunt!"
"Take that dick."
"Take it and like it:"
"Take my cock."
"Take my cock you lousy Cunt."
Hope and Doug had a great view of the man humping his wife. They could see him pulling his huge, hard schlong all the way out of her writhing pink pussy hole and slamming it down in again. All the while taunting her, catcalling to her, slapping her on her butt.
Hope felt a fever burning inside her cunt. She reached back and cupped her husband's huge round hairy balls in her hands and squeezed them around and around, then back and forth. She had barely ever touched his balls, but now, for some strange reason, she felt like it.
Hope felt a wrenching in her guts. Could it be, could it possibly be she was going to climax? She hadn't for months. Maybe six months. Of course, she had kept it from her husband, faked orgasm as often as they had sex, which wasn't too often anymore. But here she was, watching the most erotic scene of her adult life and getting her husband's massively huge cock up her beckoning cunt. And loving it.
She squeezed her cunt lips together tight, embracing his whole schlong with her hot pussy muscles. Then, she let go a load of come. A hissing, hot, slimy load.
"Fuck me!" she shouted as she went off.
Her husband was not far behind. He plugged her brutally, pushing his punishing dick inside her and hauling it out rapidly. As fast as he could go now. Then, he felt a thick bubbling in his gut. An eager, oncoming bubbling that he knew could not be stopped.
It surged down into his nuts. The nuts his wife even now so maddeningly was massaging. Massaging him to a sweet, unexpected climax. It happened so suddenly. His giant load of hot come roared down his pecker and emptied itself out his enlarged cock slit. It spilled into the belly of his woman and stuck there. White, hot and gooey.
Paula Dexter gave way to the overwhelming sensation building up just behind her cunt hole. It pressured her lips, her clit, her pubic mound. Every part of that dainty little well of her cunt that was now receiving the crushing blows of her man's monster dick.
She gave way to the sensation and blushed from head to toe as the come charged out of her.
Her pussy quivered.
It ran down her thick, gripping pussy lips and disturbed her clit. It tickled her pubic mound and trickled out through the fringe of jet-black hair that now lay in a matted hunk.
Boyd Dexter plugged his little wife as hard as he could, easing his blows to her behind as he chugged and thrust his hot hips up hard enough to impale her. He felt the race of hot, unstoppable come surge down his pecker and erupt like a hot jet stream from the end of his dick. It filled the little pink velvet cavity and oozed out creamy and thick.
"Mine!" his wife called as she dove around to eat up the gooey liquid.
She sucked his still rock hard dick all the way up and dowa his thick, dark shaft, cleaning every inch of it off with her eager, lapping tongue.
"Wow!" Hope Hills said, sinking into the floor in exhaustion.
Her husband, his dick still plugged in to his wife's socket slumped down with her. They held each other a brief minute, and then watched in horror as Boyd and Paula regained their breath control and stared out at them.
"Oh, God," Doug said, trying to close the door with his foot. He figured he ought to allow them a few moments of privacy since he had been watching their entire love-making process for the last fifteeen minutes. He and his wife.
"It's okay," Paula said to his surprise. "You can leave that open. I did."
CHAPTER THREE
Randy Dexter kicked at a small rock lying in the steep path down the vine and tree-covered slope. She could hear her sister breathing hard behind her.
"What's down here?" the little girl said, unable to make out where they were headed since the tree branches obstructed her view.
Ahead of them lay a grassy valley surrounded by a deep ravine on three sides.
The only other access to it was by the route the two little girls were now entering from.
"Looks like a picnic spot," the blonde older sister said, pointing to a little fountain under a tree.
"I don't see anybody picnicking," the other girl said, skidding to the bottom of the hill on the soles of her sandals. "Well," the girl said, trying to sound logical to her sister, "it's a week day, maybe that's how come."
"Yeah," the bouncy little black-haired girl shot back, "but it's summer. How come there are no kids here?"
"They had to stay home today," Randy said, "it's housecleaning day."
She was trying to sound logical to her sister. Logical and unafraid. It was after all, pretty deserted. No tennis courts or swings, like there had been on the upper part of the park area. No laughing bunches of kids and pets and parents like there was up there, too. No, it was real quiet down here and isolated. Randy made up her mind to enjoy the peace of it for the rest of their two hours away from their parents.
The two girls busied themselves gathering rocks and throwing them down into the ravine. They found a steep inclined path leading down still further to the very bottom of it.
"This place echoes," Lisa said out loud, up to the tree tops. "I can hear my voice bound back, can't you?"
"Sure can," Randy said, listening for any other signs of life.
A squirrel darted out from the base of a tree and stared at them to see if they had anything of interest on them.
"Shit," Randy said, plopping herself down on a hollow log. "Why didn't Mom and Dad give us a little money, we could have gone to the movies. This place is a drag."
"Yeah," Lisa said, her voice echoing through the ravine, "this place is like a school playground. They tell you to go out there and play, but there's nothing to play with."
"I bet you wish Johnny Evans was here right now," Randy said, nudging her sister who stood next to her with one foot thrown up on the log.
"Maybe," Lisa said back snappily. "Maybe I do."
"What do you and Johnny Evans do on the playground, behind the band shell," Randy said, teasing her younger sister.
Actually, she wished she had a boyfriend, like her sister did. She and her adorable Bruce had broken up two years ago, when she was thirteen. And Lisa had been going steady with Johnny since she was eleven. Christ, three years. They were like an old married couple already.
The girls had definitely inherited their mother's early maturity. They had discovered boys when they were pretty young. Like nine. In truth, Lisa was eight, but she lied about her age.
It was on a rainy afternoon and the two of them were left alone. Their parents had gone for the day, a quiet little trip to the country. They would be gone till late at night and had hired a babysitter for the day. A responsible eighteen year old girl across the alley named Meg Saunders.
She was conscientious, which had nothing to do with the fact that she came down with the flu less than an hour before she had to go to the Dexter household. In her place, they sent Lloyd Saunders, her brother. Seventeen years old and a track and field athlete. The pride of the Waverly High Wonders. Especially every spring.
Lloyd had a pretty good idea of how girls worked, having had to share a bathroom with his sisters all his life.
But, he had never actually humped one. He had practically worn out the deck of nudie girl playing cards his father kept in the back of his underwear drawer. And he had once spied on his older sister while she finger fucked herself in the back of his family's Chevy on the way back from summer vacation last year. She thought he was asleep.
Other than that, his sex education had lacked quite a lot. Mrs. Saunders was one of those small town mothers who didn't believe in scandalizing her son by telling him about the facts of life. Besides, she was a little shaky on the information herself.
"Ask your father, dear," she would say when he came running to her with some outrageous bit of mythology he had picked up from the boys' room at Waverly Junior High.
"Ask your mother," the gruff sourpuss father would say when he pulled up his footstool and sat at the knee of his leatherette armchair waiting for enlightenment. "She knows more about those things than I do."
By the time he was fourteen, he pretty much gave up on his parents and stuck to listening to the stories in the boys' room. They told him girls had pussies, they had tits. All girls did, except Chinese girls. They had slits in their pussies that slanted sideways. Also, that girls didn't play football because it made their tits hurt. That's why they had slumber parties instead.
The usual boys' room claptrap. He bought some of it, like most boys, but saved his curiosity for other places, like the potato cellar of the family basement, where he and his father's playing cards could be alone together.
He went steady with that deck for over a year. But, there was track and field. When that came along, he stopped thinking about sex, at least until the big meet.
But that was over now. That was all over the day he changed his T-shirt and headed for the Dexter house. The day his sister caught the flu.
"Don't forget," Mrs. Saunders said, in one of her rare moments of helpfulness, as she came running out of the house after him waving a little slip of paper, "here, here's our number.. . I wrote it down on a little slip of paper so you wouldn't forget it."
"Mom," Lloyd said back to the breathless woman, "I know our number. I know it by heart."
"Oh," the woman said, scratching her head. "Well, be sure you get the Dexters to write down their number. You're going to be a baby sitter, you gotta have their number. Case there's trouble."
"It's okay, Mom," he said, scratching his stomach and shaking his head at the same time, "their number is written on the telephone."
"Oh, yeah," the beleaguered tipsy woman said back. She paddled back into the house, shuffling her floppy slippers all the way up the steps.
"Well, if you need anything, call," she said, turning her body and her attention into the house.
Lloyd gathered what was left of his wits about him and headed across the alley. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad afternoon, after all. The Dexter girls were cute little things. He could probably read to them or just sit and watch TV while they played with their dolls. Maybe he'd even allow them to stay up late and put a puzzle together on the dining room table. Of course, he would have to do most of the work, they were too little to have much manual dexterity.
He opened the back door just as the Dexters were coming out.
"Oh, Lloyd," Paula Dexter said to him as she breezed out of the house, "we're so glad you could stay for your sister. We really didn't want to cancel our plan to go out today, even though it is raining."
"Here's the number where we'll be," Mr. Dexter said to him in a manly, confidential voice, "don't let our little girls get the better of you now. If you need us for any reason at all, don't hesitate to call."
Nice people the Dexters. Especially that Paula. She was only five years older than he was. A very hot little number.
He had heard all about the scandal of Kingman High. How those two had gotten into so much trouble all because Paula was an under-age girl and hot to trot way before her time. And how Mr. Dexter had been taken in by her. The other stories were that he liked young girls and seduced her. Well, the final chapter of that story was yet to be written.
Maybe he would write it. Yeah, he would take Paula Dexter away from her husband and scandalize the town all over again. He used to fantasize about that while taking showers in the basement of his house. The family had a high water bill that year.
"Hi, Lloyd," Lisa Dexter said, dragging her teddy bear into the kitchen. She dragged her teddy bear everywhere. And he looked it.
"Hi there, Lisa," the eager beaver babysitter said back.
"What's happening at Waverly Junior High this year?" she said, yawning and sitting down at the kitchen table. "You gonna be at the track meets next spring?"
"Sure am. Been putting in a lot of time at the hurdles. Doing real good, too. Your Dad was out to the track the other day. He saw me.
Lisa would be going to Waverly Junior High in another four years. She was so looking forward to it. Grade school was a real drag.
But then, she was a little scared of junior high, too. That's where her mom had gotten into so much trouble. That's where she'd gotten Randy.
She eyed the developing bulges under Lloyd's T-shirt. The boy was getting a good-looking physique on him, no doubt about it. It made her eager little mouth water just watching him play with the salt shaker.
"Where's Randy?" he said, glancing around the kitchen for the refrigerator. He hoped the Dexters would have something good in their ice box.
"Watching TV," the girl blinked, staring back at him.
Lloyd looked hard at the long black tresses that cascaded down her head. They were thick and swirling. She was a cute little kid, all right. Probably still slept with a night light.
"You ever fool around?" she said, looking right into his shocked eyes.
"What do you.. . " he cleared his throat as he felt his voice climb back up the high registers he thought he had left behind him two summers ago when his voice changed.
"I mean sex."
The little girl was walking her teddy bear across the kitchen table by moving one of his ragged feet ahead of the other.
"Well, I . . . "
Lloyd had a hard time answering. For one thing, she scared him. And for another, he had never had sex with anyone in his life. And he was about the last guy in his class to, as far as he knew. If the stories the other guys told could be believed.
"I lied," Lisa said, yanking her teddy bear off the table and putting her hands on her hips.
For the first time, Lloyd noticed two pert little bulges on either side of her chest underneath her white midriff blouse. And the little slut wasn't even wearing a bra.
"About what?" Lloyd said, wondering if he shouldn't maybe go ahead and use the phone number the Dexters had written down for him. What the hell, they wouldn't even be at their destination yet.
"About Randy," the little girl said, tossing her floppy curls back and looking at him slyly. "She's not watching TV, she's jerking off. Wanna see?"
Lloyd had caught a similar show the day his sister did it in the backseat of the family car. This might prove additionally enlightening. He didn't know girls as young as Randy masturbated. And he didn't know girls as young as Lisa even knew about it. Also, he didn't know he could get so hot under the collar just thinking it.
Of course he wanted to see. Only how would he explain if Randy caught him?
"She's waiting," Lisa said, offering a sly grin, "let's go in."
Llloyd followed the little girl and her teddy bear into the pink-walled bedroom.
Sure enough, there on the bed, legs spread apart and bare pussy exposed to the woodwork, sat little blonde Randy, the most adorable little chick in the neighborhood plugging her pussy with both her fingers.
He watched in amazement as the girl's knowledgeable fingers found their hole. He had never had such a good view of a girl's pussy before. And this one was absolutely gorgeous.
"Hi," Randy said, bringing her juiced up pinkies out of her cunt long enough to hold them out to him, "wanna taste?"
"Uh..... " Lloyd said, looking a little battered. He wasn't sure if it was polite or not, to lick a lady's pussy juice off her fingers, but with a little courage, he intended to find out. "Sure."
He stepped over to the bed where the hot little nymphet lay stretched out like Lady Bountiful on her throne. He saw her little pink opening, the tiny finger like projections of her cunt lips. Chubby, translucent inner lips of her sweet little cunt hole. And her round, pink clit sticking above them, capping the whole affair.
Like a cherry atop an ice cream sundae.
He leaned his head over and sniffed at her fingers. They smelled kind of like sardines, but nice. He stuck his tongue our carefully and glided it over her hand. The juice tasted nothing like it smelled. It was kind of sweet and thick. Like runny honey.
"Wow!" Lloyd managed between licks.
"We wanna see your pee-pee," Lisa said, nudging him to move over on the bed and give her room to sit there, too.
"You do?" Lloyd's voice shot up another register. He didn't think that kind of thing was supposed to happen. His voice wasn't supposed to jerk him around like that.
"We do," the blonde temptress said back to him. "Lisa, grab his zipper."
Sure enough, the mad little horny maidens wrestled him to the floor in a heated battle for his zipper He couldn't believe it was happening. It was like a bizarre dream. And he couldn't believe how little resistance he was putting up.
"Me...." the black-haired child said, pawing her sister's hand as it lay across his metal piece.
"No, me.. . Lisa, now cut it out. I'm older." Yeah, Lloyd thought. One year older. That's better. At least she's ten.
Randy seemed to have won the zipper sweepstakes. By virtue of the fact that she could pull hair harder.
"Owwwwwwww," her sister cried as she yanked her luscious black tresses down far, far, almost pulling her head off.
"Now let me," she said cruelly to her face.
"All right, already," the black-locked vixen said, "it's all yours."
The blonde temptress set to work undoing Lloyd's zipper, but she had had limited experience with these things. And it took her a while. Lloyd's cock grew hot and hard under her craftsmanship. Or lack of it.
"God, why don't you just let me?" he said, after ten minutes.
"Okay, okay," she said, scooting back on her butt and watching as she clutched her sister's forearm.
Lloyd took a big breath and let his zipper down slowly. The way he would have liked to have it done for him, only it wasn't in the cards that afternoon.
"Where is it?" Lisa said after his zipper was disengaged.
"Inside, dummy," Randy said, lying down on her side and propping her head up on her elbow as though she were watching a matinee on TV.
"You sure you can take this?" Lloyd said, wondering if the two might not be in over their heads.
"I'll take it right now," Lisa said, reaching in and grabbing the boy's half hard by the shaft and whipping it out of his jockey shorts.
"All right!" her sister in approval as the hooded serpent made its premiere engagement into the world of women , Her eager response gave him confidence and he hauled his oversize balls out to join his dick stick. "There," he said, feeling pretty proud of himself, "a matched set."
"Hmmmm," Lisa said, already engaged by the way his balls bounced hard against his cock. "That your dick?"
"Who else's would it be, Sod Head?" her sister said, eyeing the delicious semi-hard dong with delight.
"Let's touch it," she said, moving in a little closer.
"Okay," the agreeable little tart said back.
They both moved in closer and got into position. Randy, that sweet blonde honey pot, took a hold of cock knob. Her sister seemed intent on playing with his shaft.
The older of the two girls began moving his prick around by the hardening head, like a gear shift.
The younger girl stroked him a big, as though his cock shaft were a furry animal. Then, she began petting him in earnest. She gripped the circumference of his still-hardening dick with her tiny, pudgy hand, though it did not go all the way around, even in this half-erect state.
But his half-erection was soon a thing of the past as his cock knuckled to the sweet pressure surrounding it. Surrounding it and hovering over its head.
"Oh, shiiiiiiittttt," Lloyd said, rolling his eyes toward the wallpaper and blinking in disbelief.
He had wanted this to happen for so long. Wanted some nice girl to reach out and pet his pent-up, eager young man pride. But it was always too cold out or too near track season or she didn't want to. Christ, it felt good to have two hot cute little girls doing this to him. Touching his dick shaft, tapping his cock crown. And bouncing his balls around under their warm, thick little hands.
"Look at this," Randy said, deep in the throes of discovery, "what's it for?"
She eyed his third eye hotly.
"That's for pissing," the boy said, feeling the heat rise up into his anus.
"It's not gonna piss now, is it?" she said, holding it out a little ways from her face.
"It might if you keep playing with it like that.. . no, I'm only kidding."
He didn't know if he was lying or not. He wasn't sure he cared, either.
Randy felt a little chill race through her as she planted her hand firmly around his growing fuck stick. It felt so smooth and slippery, like the skin of her own bare pussy. But it was so gloriously hard. So stiff and getting stiffer every time she wound her hot little hand around it and pressed in.
"Oooooh," she said, as a few drops of clear pre-cum flooded his cock slit. "Look up here, Lisa."
Lisa didn't want to stop what she was doing long enough to look, but got a good grip on the boy's man shaft and peeked up.
"That's butter," she said, shaking her head knowingly.
"It is not," Randy said, making a screwed up face into her little sister's.
"Yes it is," she said, as though she were a sexual authority who had just written a well-known book on the subject, "I'm telling you the truth."
"How did he get butter in there?" Randy said, "smart aleck?"
Her sister thought a moment as she glided her eager, determined little hand up and down the boy's thickening shaft stick.
"Because I put it there," she said, finally.
"You two chicks are nuts," Lloyd said, trying to control his breath from coming out in heaves and spurts. He had given up trying to control his voice. It sounded like it was changing back.
"You know less about this than I do, don't you?"
"Does this feel like I don't know what I'm doing?" Lisa said, in a naughty singsong voice, one hand thrust onto her hip.
He had to admit that indeed it did feel like she knew what she was doing. Or maybe it was because he had never had a hand job before. Either way, it made him blush with heat and it made his toes curl up with excitement. His cock was beginning to reach the rock hard stage and he wondered how much longer he could take being played with by these two naughty little nymphos.
Lisa fell to rubbing Lloyd's thick schlong between her two little hands as though she were rolling out a dough log to make ice box cookies.
"Zowie!" Lloyd shot up, in a tempestuous moment of heat and excitement.
His cock was beginning to feel like the tip of a cannon. Hot and ready to shoot. He gripped the bedspread with his hands, trying to stave off the inevitable fountain that he knew was welling up inside his balls.
Lisa clutched the boy's rock hard dick and began to pump it with the grease her sister was rubbing onto his shaft from the cock slit. She let her hands slide down all the way to the base and slither up top again, only to have them careen down once more and bounce against his hard base.
He was greased heavily now, from tip to hilt. His whole huge shaft glistening hot and ready in the light of the little pink bedroom.
"Put your fingers up me, Lloyd," Randy ordered moving her cunt lips close to where he was digging them into the bed.
He did so obligingly. The warm wet hole of the little girl's cunt puckered open wide enough for him to slip two eager, writhing fingers inside. He squirmed them up as hard as he could.
It felt so warm and wet and tight in that little pee hole of hers. So wild and dangerous. It was fantastic.
"Me, too," her horny little sister squealed, throwing her body up onto the bed and practically sitting on his face.
She pulled the shorts she was wearing off, then her little candy striped panties. He saw her luscious little bare-naked box glimmering in the overhead light. It looked pretty hot to him.
He reached out and popped his ready hand into her little cunt socket. It stuck there like a wheel in the mud. She writhed and wiggled her hot little ass to allow him more penetration.
"Push your hand in," Randy said, trying to come to his aid, "she's still kind of tight."
Not surprising, Lloyd thought, she is only nine.
He twisted his hand around like a corkscrew and drove it deep inside her little pink and quivering cunt. It felt pretty closed in up there. He pumped her as best he could, considering the space limitations.
"Wowie!" Lisa said, shaking her head in ecstasy, "that's some kind of wild fucking ride."
She humped his hand hard as she continued to pump his thick man handle. It felt so hot and slippery beneath her fingers, under her driving palm. She pumped it harder and harder. Faster and faster. All the way up and all the way down. Then again up and down, down and up.
The sounds made a gorgeous harmonious symphony. All of their sounds. Randy's pussy was getting plugged a mile a minute. Her juices squished and blended with the sweat of Lloyd's jackhammer hand.
Lisa rode the boy's whole hand as hard as she could, screwing her own wild pussy hole as fast as she could hump.
And Lloyd. Ecstasy was written all over his face as he leaned back and smiled before he let go completely. Just before his thick, long cock pole spat a load of hot fresh come out the widened tip.
Spat it out and slobbered it all over Lisa's hand. All over Randy's hand. And all down his zipper. That hot piece of split metal. The one that had never been opened by anyone else. Not before today.
Randy stood up and stared down at the log she was sitting on. The large, fallen log straddled across the deepest part of the ravine.
"You suppose there's fairies living in this log?" she said, grinning and tapping the log with her sandaled foot.
"I hope not," the other girl said, shaking her head and looking up the steep embankment of the ravine for signs of human life.
It had been one hell of a de-virginizing. For the both of them. And there had been other men. Well, boys. Some hot little specimens of emerging manhood from Waverly Junior High.
Like Johnny Evans. He and Lisa had gotten it on in the back of a school bus. A neat feat, considering that she didn't even ride the school bus. It was parked in the school parking lot at the time.
Tricky sneaking in, but once hidden from view, a really great hideaway. And a hot time was had by the both of them.
Randy was not without her share of experience with boys, too. She had a pair of tits on her already that made boys young and old stop and stare at. It used to scare her, but in the last couple of years she had grown used to the idea. Now, whenever boys stared at her, she stuck her tits out and walked right past.
"Do you love Johnny Evans?" Randy said, wishing she had a steady. Boys had been abundant for her, but nothing real so far. Nothing lasting, like Lisa had with her Johnny.
"No," Lisa said, "it's just a physical relationship. And honest to goodness, I'm getting a little tired of it."
"What?" her sister shot back, her mouth growing slack with disbelief.
"It's just that we're in a rut, a rut deeper than this ravine. Every weekend, it's the same old thing. Go under the porch or out back of the high school practice stadium, sometimes under the boat house at the college. And then, one hour of non-stop teasing before we get it on. Frankly, I'm a little tired of it. I'm ready to look for other things."
The whirling noises of high-powered motors greeted their ears. They looked up to see a long line of motorcycles rolling over the top of the steep embankment.
The motorcycles were ridden by dark, sinister looking guys. Big ones with reflector sunglasses wrapped around their heads. Huge leather caps, muscles arms with tattoos, bulging biceps. High leather boots and striped T-shirts.
And they were barreling right toward them. Aiming their huge, vicious monster bikes right at their feet.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Well, well," one mean biker said, "good afternoon, ladies."
"Hi," Lisa managed, practically in shock from the sudden turn of events. She had never been surrounded by a motorcycle gang before.
The big, hairy monster stepped on his brakes and reared his machine up as though he were braking a high-stepping horse. His front wheel kicked up and hit back down on the ground with a thud. He stopped his motor and engaged the kick stand with one jut of his big, black engineer boot.
"Name's Fox," the burly-chested man said.
Both girls had no trouble telling he was burly-chested. They could see every one of his chest hairs through the skin-tight T-shirt. The man was covered with tattoos from head to foot. And he was tall. The two of them standing end to end wouldn't come up to his chin.
"Name's Randy," the petrified girl said, extending her little hand for him to feel up.
It made her quiver to her pussy.
"I'm Lisa," the smaller girl added, taking in the whole panorama of leather-clothed and dirt-encrusted bikers still riding their rigs round in little circles all over the ravine.
"Guess you two kids are strangers around here," the big man said, leaning one gigantic black shining boot on the running board of his bike.
"Yeah," Randy said, sounding a little limp. The sight of the huge man standing there in front of her was awesome. He looked like a genie just sprung from a bottle, and he was about the same size from her vantage point.
"How did you know?" Lisa piped up, her pipsqueak voice failing to modulate even though she wanted to sound a little older than she was.
"Most people who live around here don't come down to the ravine," a blond weight lifter type shouted over to them as he, too, braked his bike to a halt.
"They don't?" Randy said, wishing she could think of something witty or chatty to say just now.
"Naw," another short redhead added, bringing his huge cycle to a stop in front of a giant oak tree. "They stay away."
"Guess you didn't notice the bike tracks," the beefy leader type said, taking one last big inhale on his short, yellowish cigarette and passing it to someone else.
If they were really as tough as they think they are, Lisa thought, eyeing the scene with a wary look, they wouldn't all be smoking off that same old cigarette.
"Bike tracks?" Randy said, as innocent as a new born lamb.
She looked around her as she did so to see a jillion concentric rings of tire tracks all over the ravine. Funny she hadn't noticed them before.
"Are those bike tracks?" Lisa tried, hoping the big bruisers on all sides of her would buy it. Even a little of it.
Funny how she hadn't seen them either. Had they really been there all this time?
"Where you girls from?" one of the crowd roared down, "And how old are you?"
Whoever he was, he couldn't help noticing that these two little girls were cute city. They both had hot little shapes on them, and seemed to have a spirit to match.
The others in the pack couldn't help noticing it, too. The kids were cute, but maybe they were jail bait. That would make things rough. It meant they would have to proceed more carefully.
"Hey, Fox," the blonde guy said, pulling his visor up off his cap and displaying a pair of white-rimmed eyes in the center of a road-tanned face, making him look like a reverse raccoon.
"Yeah?" Fox shot back up, still keeping his eyes peeled on the sweetmeats in front of him. They were a couple of knock-outs okay, but what the hell were they doing here alone?
The blonde guy came tear assing down the ravine to where the three of them were already standing and went up to his leader to whisper something in his ear.
Lisa and Randy stood by uneasily. What the hell were the two of them saying, what was going on? And why were they whispering in front of them? They had always been told that sort of thing was not polite. Not polite at all.
"Naw," Fox to said to the blonde guy. "I doubt that very much."
The blonde, named Loner, whispered something else into his ear and then, walked off a few steps.
Fox regarded the girls strangely. "You two chicks wouldn't be running with some other gang, would you now? We don't like to make trouble with other gang's chicks. It could mean a rumble."
Christ, these chicks are cute, Fox thought to himself as he waited for their answer. Maybe he'd been on the road awhile, but they sure looked good to him. That little black-haired one was a sexpot. With a hot shit body besides.
Loner arched one blonde eyebrow waiting for their answer. A lot depended on it. Like where he would put his stiffening pecker in the next few minutes. Into the soft poplar wood squirrel hole of the nearest tree, or into one of their juicy little cunts.
"We don't belong to nobody," Randy said, feeling her eyes grow wide as saucers with each passing moment.
She wasn't sure what was happening, but something about the way the six guys on the hill were picking up tire chains and whirling them around made her uneasy.
"Please don't fight over us," Lisa said, unable to bear the idea that gangs should go to war over her and her sister. Especially since they didn't belong to any gang, or to any bikers.
"Naw," Fox said, rubbing the stubble of his beard and scratching his huge, muscle-inflated chest under his T-shirt, "we're not fighters, basically."
"That's good," Randy said, feeling a little tinge of relief.
"We're lovers," he said, a wide, shit-eating grin crossing his rugged face.
Lisa almost giggled out loud. It seemed like such a corny thing to say. This big, hulking man standing up there grinning like a kid and saying he was a lover. He didn't exactly look like the type to her. She couldn't see how anyone could stand to get close enough to him to find out. He didn't smell too good and there were sweat rings cirling his clothing everywhere.
Randy couldn't take her eyes off the rest of the gang members long enough to look up at their leader. Some of the guys were taking knives out of their boots. Others were sharpening the knives they had already taken out of their boots. One guy was actually picking his teeth with a knife.
"Nice day," she said, trying not to think about what it all might mean.
"Yeah," the big oaf said, staring back at the girl without changing his expression.
He still bore a sinister grin across his dirty oil-stained face.
"We're waiting for our parents," Lisa popped up brightly. It seemed like a good time to bring it up.
"You are?" the big one said, raising his eyes open a little, "where are they now?"
"Playing bridge," Lisa said, wondering if there were any truth to that at all, but grabbing it as a possibility in this sticky predicament.
"Ha!" the blonde said, tearing off a pair of thick black leather riding gloves. "You chicks wanna come for a spin with old Loner?"
Lisa couldn't resist the impulse to run over and jump on his bike. It was so big and fast and he was so handsome, even if he was a little dirty. Nothing a good bath wouldn't fix.
But she felt Randy's hand at her throat. She stopped in her tracks and stared calf-eyed up at her sister.
"No good?" she said, timidly as a mouse.
"We have to go," Randy said, backing off a little.
She knew it was pointless to back off, there was a whole bunch of them behind her, but there was something about the way they stood there, lurking, menacing that she didn't like.
Whatever it was they had on their mind, Lisa was not yet frightened of. She kind of liked them. Especially blondie over there. The one who had just invited her on his bike.
Johnny Evans didn't even have a motorcycle. Just a blue four-shift bicycle that didn't even have a back seat. When they went anywhere together, she had to ride the handlebars. This guy was different. He was smooth. And she knew anybody with a name like Loner could probably use some company.
"Let's go, Sis," she said, pulling her sister by the wrist and whispering up to her.
"Good idea," the blonde girl said, trying to find a way out of the circle the gang had thrown up around them.
"I'd really like to ride on that thing, if only to the supermarket and back, we wouldn't have to let the folks see.. . "
"Bird Turd!" Randy said, making a terrible face at her sister, "I don't mean for a ride. I mean, let's get out of here."
Apparently she had whispered too loud. "I don't think you can really go anywhere just now," the leader said, crossing his gigantic Popeye arms across his chest and heaving slowly.
That's probably when Lisa noticed the bulge directly below his huge silver belt buckle. It was hard not to notice. It was awesome. Bigger than Johnny Evans's bulge. Bigger than Barry
Cormier's or Terry Johnson's. Bigger than the bulge her pillow made when it lay under her bedspread tucked in next to the headboard.
In her rush of interest, she tried to elbow her sister into catching it, too. But Randy's mind was elsewhere.
"We gotta get out of here," she said, in as soft a voice as she could muster, considering she was near panic.
"You heard him," Lisa said, a little resentful that her sister wanted to tear her away from the events that were happening just now. Specifically, the event in Fox's crotch. "There's no way to get out of here just now."
"Well, we gotta think of something," she replied in a muffled voice.
"I think you better leave this one to me," the raven-haired smarter of the two shot back.
"Oh, joy!" her sister said, feeling a wave of defeat wash over her.
She felt like she might as well give into whatever was going to happen. And from the way that blonde cutie pie was looking at her, it probably had something to do with them getting fucked.
"We'd love to," the little girl said, grinning sweetly to Loner. "We'd love to go for a ride on your bike."
"Uh huh," Fox said, rolling his huge eyes and spitting onto the ground, "One of you isn't going.'
"No?" Randy said, a trifle too quickly.
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly, "one of you is going with me."
Hope Hills stood up to get the coffee pot off the stove. It had been perking long enough to deliver hot, steaming streams of black liquid into the four cups that she had set out on the table.
This part was always a little difficult for her, chatting in the kitchen before the four of them pranced off to the bedroom four a four-way orgy of discipline and non-stop sex.
But, customs being what they were, it didn't hurt to offer the Dexters a cup of coffee before getting on with it.
After all, they had injected some new blood into the Hills's sex life. After that first afternoon they had watched Boyd and Paula fucking, they had gotten so aroused and interested in their pre-game warm-up that they had asked them all about it and picked up quite a few pointers.
"We love it," Paula insisted, to a shocked Doug whose cock hadn't been so stiff in six months, maybe longer. He had just tucked the thing back into his pants and the woman had regaled him with stories of how she and her husband got it on.
"Yeah," her obliging husband had said that afternoon, "I know some folks think it's a little odd, but it suits us. Besides, my wife is such a bad girl, she deserves a little hard hand once in a while."
The four of them had decided to meet together again soon and try it. It was agreed that the Dexters would show Hope and Doug how to administer discipline and react to it properly.
The week at the resort had passed all too quickly. Hope had allowed her husband to spank her bottom four times that week, once with the Dexter's paddle, then three times with his very own hand. They progressed to his leather belt after they got home.
As the four of them sat there, getting a little hotter by the minute. Hope was the hottest. He seemed so incredibly desirable to her these days. Not the least reason for that was because he had subdued her so beautifully.
And now, the four of them were meeting at the Hills house to try a little bondage out on each other. She was really looking forward to it.
Doug tugged at his wife's hand under the dining room table. He had fallen in love with her all over again these past few months. Ever since that day at the lake resort. They had renewed their relationship, and he felt for sure it had developed in a positive direction.
Other women just didn't interest him anymore. Even to look at on the street. He could only think how much he wanted to get home and get it on with his wife whenever he saw a particularly beautiful one pass by.
And so it was, with a clear majority, that the four of them retired to the bedroom. Doug had outfitted the room beautifully. And for a few minutes they all just stood there chatting and admired it.
"The best nylon cord money can buy," the proud consumer said, holding up a stout length of it for his visitors to see.
Boyd felt his cock perk up a little at the prospect of tying the beauteous redhead Hope down to the bed. He would be the one to do it, since Doug was yet unskilled in these matters. But, he knew it wouldn't take him long to figure it out.
"That looks like a good strong lounge chair," he said pointing to the chaise in the comer of the guestroom.
He decided that might be the best place for his wife to be tied, since he could keep an eye on events there. His schlong braced itself against his jockey shorts seam, just dreaming of the delicious prospects in store for them.
"Did you lock the front door, Hope honey?" Doug said, stepping out of his jeans. "Cause if you did, I see no reason not to get started. How about you guys?"
"Thought you'd never ask," Paula said, sitting on the bed and sticking her hard tits out. Way out.
Doug had bought a pair of French cut briefs for the occasion. They made his man bulge look even bigger than it was, which was sizable.
The women eyed the plump ass under his tight nylon briefs with envy. Each wanted a little shot at it, if only for a few minutes.
Then, Boyd dropped his pants and savored the attention as he presented his mammoth bulge to the audience. Hope eyed it lustily. The man's pecker was a hot handful all right. She hoped she might get a crack at it before their time together was over.
Hope sat on the chaise lounge a minute and waited for Paula to begin. She was still new to this stuff, and she relied on the more experienced of them to take the lead.
She didn't have long to wait.
Paula stood up and slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse. Her huge knockers stood ready to pop out of her push-up bra as soon as she let the blouse slip off her shoulders.
Then, a curious thing happened. Curious to Hope and Doug, but they managed to catch on soon enough.
Paula stuck her ample tits, barely hidden under the blue lace of her half-bra into their faces as she unbuttoned her skirt. She let it slide off down her hips, down her rounded, exotic thighs and off onto the floor.
Hope was the first to notice that something was wrong, being a woman probably accounted for it.
The child bride was wearing a rather hot pair of nylon panties. But there was a big tear in the rear end. An unsightly rip that ran across her buttocks.
"Oh, dear," Hope said, sympathetically.
But Boyd's response, when he saw it, was not nearly so sympathetic.
"You pig!" he said, pulling her ass around so he could inspect the damage.
"I'm sorry, Honey," his wife replied sweetly, "I didn't know that was there."
"Fucking little liar," her husband snapped, "you did, too. You wore these panties on purpose just to embarrass me! You want the Hills to think I don't give you enough money to buy nice under things. Don't you think I know what you're doing?"
Hope felt her heart beat faster as the two of them continued their argument. She hated the idea that this couple should be arguing in her house, just as the four of them were about to have such a good time.
"I wouldn't do that," Paula said, sounding apologetic and adorable. She sat on the bed and stared up at her husband with wide, innocent eyes.
"You certainly would," the angry man huffed back at her. "You would do anything to make me look bad to other people. You would and you have."
"Now look who's lying, Boyd," the woman said back, standing up and glaring at him hard. "I don't do that sort of thing. If there's anyone who does, it's you. You're always making me look bad in public. You talk about my never having finished high school at the drop of a hat. How do you think that makes me feel?"
Doug was starting to shift in his seat next to his wife on the lounge. The argument had come at a bad time. He hoped it wouldn't ruin the afternoon.
"Look who's making who feel bad?" the man scowled at his wife and grabbed at her panties with both hands. "This is a fucking sin. It's a fucking outrage to have you go around like this. Didn't your fucking mother ever tell you to check your underwear once in a while. Guess you're used to wearing the same pair so many days in a row you forget."
Paula looked at him with contempt. She stood there in front of the other three, her eyes burning. Then she backed away an inch or so, and spat at him. She spat directly into his face.
"That does it!" the man shouted, totally out of control, or so it would seem to anyone watching.
He grabbed his stunned wife by the wrists and flung her down on the chaise lounge, within inches of where the Hills couple sat. Then he grabbed the length of nylon cord and made some deft knots in one end. Paula had already begun to protest. She shouted and screamed and spat at him again, but he held her fast by sitting on top of her and thrusting his knee into her back.
He tipped one end of the chaise up and lassoed the leg of it with a neat little circle of nylon cord. Then, he pulled it taut. He did the same thing with the other four legs, the whole time shoving his rude thick knee into his wife's backside.
He had her bound up like a side of beef before Hope could catch her breath. But as soon as she did, she jumped up to protest.
"Boyd," she said, in her kindly low voice, "don't you think you're being a little harsh. I mean, she only meant to.. . '"
"You lousy cunt," Boyd said, railing like a mad man, "I might know you'd jump in on her side. Women really do stick together against their men folk, don't they? Boy, I didn't believe it, but seeing it with my own eyes, I guess it's true."
Doug stood there and scratched his head. He was beginning to understand.
"Here, Boyd," he said, tossing another length of nylon rope to him, "you tie up the little bitch. If she's going to behave like an animal, she should have a strong man treat her like one."
Hope, finally, began to catch on, too.
"No, no, no!" she shouted, tossing her ample tits around and shaking her red-haired mane out. "You can't do this to me, I won't let you."
"I don't think you have any choice, Lady," her husband said, sounding like a real cut throat when he did. "You're in no position to protest, either."
"Tie the bitch to the bed," Boyd said, pulling his belt out of his pants loops. "And bring out some of those metal clothes pins. We'll see if we can't make these snot-nosed dames behave for once in their wretched little lives."
Doug picked up the length of cord and made a few crude knots in the end. He had difficulties. She was fighting him tooth and nail.
"Leave me alone, you brute!" she shouted, kicking at him. "Stop or I'll punch you in the eye."
"Such a little wildcat," Boyd said, jumping in to help truss the fair beauty down onto the bed.
He tied the knots securely to the posts of the bed, spreading her long legs out hard as he did so. She faced up when they were done, with her hands and legs spread out hard, creating a beautiful medieval torture effect.
Her silky caftan still clung to her voluptuous body. So much the better, Boyd thought. Well have fun tearing it off.
"Hope," he said down to her as he indicated for Doug to unloosen his own belt from his belt hoops, "you're a hopeless mouthy bitch. I think we're going to have to teach you a lesson. One you won't forget soon."
With that he leaned down and took a hold at the neckline of her caftan. He ripped it down, slowly slowly, past her huge, heaving breasts, her flat pulsating stomach, her gorgeous wide thighs and her long, sculpted legs.
She was totally naked under that thing and the effect was stunning. The redhead was proven by the fact that her bush was a lustrous tawny copper color.
Her tits were real, too. Gigantic mounds of gently sloping flesh with great thick nipples on the ends. Just the kind to take to metal clothes pins, Boyd thought eagerly.
Now, if only he could decide which woman should go first. Which one would be the first to feel the sting of his belt leather? The hot little gypsy-haired girl with upraised buttocks sitting atop a sweet, dark honey-pot or the spread eagle redhead with the tingling, moist cunt lips and the high-proud breasts?
The decision pulled at his crotch basket and he felt his cock ready itself whichever way he chose.
CHAPTER FIVE
"How fast is this thing moving?" Lisa said, hugging Fox around the middle and watching the tar-filled cracks of the cement highway flash past her feet.
"About sixty right now," the big blonde rooster said, turning his head slightly around to answer her, "but I ain't got her opened up yet."
Lisa looked behind her to see her sister and
Fox coming up fast on the rear. Randy was clinging to the chunky bike gang leader's chest and seemed to be enjoying the ride. Her hair was sailing out in the breeze, flying parallel to the pavement.
Lisa's own black locks twirled every which way. God, it was good to be riding out on the open road like this. So free and wild. She vowed to get herself one of these motorcycle jobs as soon as she had enough cash. They were definitely superior to cars.
Randy dug her frightened fingernails into the flesh of her beefy-chested companion. Motorcycles were the most terrifying thing she had ever experienced in her life. She felt as though she would come unhinged at every bump in the road.
She gripped the big man's giant bosom with all her might as the cycles tore down the road. Where they would stop, she knew not. But she hoped it would be soon.
"Getting tired?" Loner said to his young rider, "I mean, is your rear end aching yet?"
"Naw," said Lisa, feeling as though she could ride all the way to California if only she didn't have to be at the Hills house in another hour.
Randy adjusted her seating and felt the gnawing ache of her weary butt bones. Her cunt felt like it had been rubbing against a miller's wheel forjhe last two days.
"Like to stop a stretch?" Fox said back to her.
She nodded and lay her head back down on the man's shoulder blades. She tried to ride up a little off her buttocks to relieve the pain, but every bump took its toll just the same.
How the hell do people go two blocks on these things, she wondered to herself. "Over here," Fox signalled to Loner by honking his horn a few blasts and turning off the highway.
Randy felt a porcupine jump up between her ass cheeks and the seat of the bike as the cycle hit the hard-packed dirt of the little hill that led off the highway and into a thick grove of trees.
"You know this spot?" she said, as soon as she could talk again.
"Naw," the man said, bringing his bike to a hard brake. It jerked forward and Randy almost fell frontwards over the gas tank.
"Oooooh," cried Lisa as the bike took off over the ridge of the highway and headed down the hill to join the other one. She was a little disappointed they had to get off the road, but she thought it might be a chance to get to know Loner better, she certainly couldn't talk to him on the road.
It didn't actually matter what he would say to her, she was already in love with him. He was about fifty times more macho than Johnny Evans even without the bike. And with it, well, could one ask for more?
She felt pretty hot as she stepped off the passenger seat and bounced down onto the hard-packed soil.
"Great spot," she said to Fox, who seemed not as much interested in nature as checking the mileage on his speedometer.
Loner wasted even less time studying nature. He walked over to Lisa and grabbed her hard around the waist, pulling her face to his.
She was aware of the pitted complexion he had all over his face. But he was so fucking rugged and handsome for all that, she couldn't have cared less if he had terminal acne.
"Come here, Baby," he said, with a grimace, as he swept her off her feet and held her as tight as a winning lottery ticket.
He planted his hot, dusty mouth down on her luscious little moist one. Christ, the bitch tasted good, he thought to himself.
Lisa stuck her tongue up inside his mouth to taste the stale beer and sour cigarette flavor. Shit, this guy was turning her on like crazy.
Randy felt less inclined to make out with Fox, though he was one fucking hot specimen of a rugged guy. His chest was so rippling under that T-shirt and he walked with such an inviting swagger.
"Kiss me, Chick," he said, plopping himself down on the ground and hauling her after him.
"No," she said, squirming her mouth away. She didn't realize what she had said until a few moments later. A few moments later when he slapped her across the face.
"Little Cunt!" he roared as the heel of his hand dug into her cheek, "no chick turns down Fox Werner and lives to tell about it, Baby."
Randy stood up quick and rubbed the hot, throbbing place where the bike leader's hand had cut into her face flesh.
God, it hurt. It stung like hell. And she found, as she rubbed it and pouted back at him, she rather liked the sensation. Maybe her and Fox would get along after all.
He had such black and wavy hair, just like her kid sister. The one who was sitting on the ground just now under the shade of a big evergreen tree and sucking Loner's long, hot, probing tongue.
It looked like a case of chameleon love from where Randy could see it. Both of them sat there with their tongues flailing out toward each other, wrapping their arms around each other, touching tongues. Encircling tongues, darting tongues in and out of their mouths, probably picking up flies with them as far as she knew.
"You ever get strapped down to a motorcycle seat and have the shit whipped out of you?" Fox said, grinning at the girl as she stood there rubbing her face with her hand.
"No," Randy said, wondering if maybe tonight would be the first time. She didn't exactly relish the thought.
Lisa couldn't help overhearing Fox's request and she writhed under Loner's thick, slimy tongue as she did. Christ, that fucking Randy gets the hottest ticket in town and she doesn't even want to go along with it!
"Come here," the brutal big Fox said, cuffing the girl around her neck and dragging her to his motorcycle seat, "I want to see how you looked naked in the saddle."
"Oh, shit!" Randy yelled as she felt herself propelled toward the bike. "Lisaaaa!! ! '
Her sister was up in a flash, preparing herself for the show she hoped would follow. Randy trussed up to a black leather biker's seat. Hot stuff!
Randy was aware of the big man's hard hand yanking her tight little sweater up over her head. She stood there, with her face completely covered by it and stuck her tits out.
Somebody laughed out loud. "All right," she said, pulling the sweater the rest of the way off her head, "who's laughing at my tits? Nobody laughs at my tits."
"Relax, Baby," Fox said, trying to control his own rolling belly, "I wasn't laughing at your tits, but you looked so funny with that sweater thrown over your head. You looked like you had a bag on your face. Ha, ha.. .ha."
Randy wanted to tell him that he looked like he had one on, too, but she didn't. She didn't want to get hit again till after she was lying over his bike seat.
"Fucking hot little set of knockers you got there, Chick," Loner shouted to her in approval.
Iisa felt herself grow crimson with envy.
"So you wanna see tits?" she said, the hostility rising in her like warm smoke, "take a look at these!"
Without thinking what she was doing, Lisa whipped her fourteen year old tits out of her midriff blouse and stuck them in Loner's face.
As it turned out, he thought they were one hot set, especially since they appeared on the chest of such a young girl.
He began turning her nipples around like knobs on a radio. Christ, that feels good, Lisa thought as she dug her heels into the biker's crotch.
"Ouch!" he said, as he rolled over to escape the pain her feet were causing his man bulge. "Shit, Girl, that hurts!"
"Damn straight!" Lisa said back, standing up and yanking her jeans down hard over her bare bottom. "I think you ought to know, Loner," she said, as she wiggled her gorgeous hunk of a behind out over the tight blue denims, "that's the way I like it."
Johnny Evans, eat your heart out, the little girl thought as she sunk back down onto the ground and grabbed the big stud biker by his cock handle.
"Lie still," Fox said, as he fought the squirming polecat lying against his bike. Her backside was to him and he had a hell of a time getting the front of her jeans undone.
His cock was giving him a devil of time, too. It crashed and banged against his metal zipper, dying to be hauled out and made hard.
As soon as he pulled the pants down, he felt his cock pole persist even stronger. Her round supple little ass cheeks glowed under the late afternoon sun and that rosy little sphincter down there between those perfectly rounded mounds puckered up at him seductively.
He wasted no time pulling his belt off his pants and strapping her down to the bike seat. He let her tits dangle over the opposite side of it so he could use them as a handle later.
Then he strapped her down to the seat with his thick leather thong, snug as a bug in a rug.
Randy kicked her feet, throwing up sand and soil from the ground beneath her. "Let me go, let me go!" she screamed to no one in particular.
Then she let out a real scream. She felt the biker guy's rock hard cock head shove against her crack in the rear. She felt it nudge up and ram against her tight, sweating butt hills.
"Oh, God," she said, wanting like hell to turn and take a look at what was going on back there.
She whirled her head around as best she could and saw through a veil of her honey blonde tresses a sight to make her scream again.
The man's cock was as thick as a fire hose. It practically made her nauseous to look at it. But, strapped in as she was, just under the tits, her arms were held down at her sides so firmly, she couldn't move to stop any of what was going on.
"Help, Lisa!! ! " she shouted, wondering what the hell her sister was doing since she wasn't answering her.
Lisa was busy. Very busy unzipping Loner's huge fly. She boldly reached in and yanked his throbbing hard on out of his pants. She examined it with an eagle eye. It met all her expectations and then some.
It was long, slightly hooked, veered a little to the left and had the most unbelievably thick foreskin on it she had ever seen, or imagined she would see.
"Motorcycle accident?" she asked, tracing her hand along the inside of his elongated rock hard shaft. It made such a hard left about half way down, she wondered how she was ever going to sit on it.
"Nah," he said, chewing on a weed and feeling the little girl's firm, knowing hands play with his shaft, "born that way."
"You gotta tattoo on your cock anywhere?" she said, eyeing the pattern of tattoos that covered his huge man hunk biceps and forearms.
"Nope!" he said, his balls banging against his shaft in excitement and heat.
"How come?" the hot little nymphet said back to him shyly.
"Born that way, too," he said, tossing his blonde greasy head of hair back and laughing hard. Loner sucked the little girl's rock hard tits as she diddled with his long, blunt-ended dick. The foreskin slipped back easily enough, after she spit on it a bit and she traced circles around the circumference of his huge cock knob.
"Shit you know what you're doing," the blonde biker said, grinning from ear to ear. It had been a long shot, but one that had paid off when he asked this little chick to join him.
Lisa examined the biker's long, gnarled and twisted cock. It was ugly, but it was also a sizable piece of meat. Smooth, though war-torn looking. Hard as a brick bat, but a brick bat with a hook in it. She wondered how it might feel inside her straight pussy shaft. Hmmmmmmm....
As she plied her eager hands up and down the curious long and winding shaft, she managed to get a little peek at what her sister was up to.
And her sister was up to her ears. She was lying, absolutely nude, except for her sandals and her knee socks across the leather width of Fox's driver's seat.
He was sticking the end of what looked like a small fire hydrant up between her smooth, glowing ass cheeks.
That can't be a fire hydrant, the little girl thought, it's coming out from between his legs.
And what the hell was he brandishing over his head? A belt? Christ, that sister of hers was on a winning streak she couldn't believe.
She heard the pop it made as it broke the air and landed a hard, thudding blow on her sister's bare ass.
It got her so hot hearing that noise, she turned to Loner's twisted dick and pressed it right up to her pussy lips.
"Yum, yum," she said, lapping at the toughened skin around the biker's cock dome. She sunk her tongue into the little indentations around his knob and squeezed his cock at the base, making his dick slit fill with clear, warm liquid.
She found the pulsating vein on the underside of his cock shaft and tried to catch its pulse with her tongue. It beat a steady rhythm against her pink probing lips. She sucked at it and felt her pussy ignite with the flames of desire.
Randy lunged forward to try and escape the raining blow of Fox's thick cowhide belt. It left a neat, red welt along its track as it grazed her white, round butt mound.
Then, another blow bit into her butt flesh. This one, harder, more punishing still. She dug her feet into the ground and braced herself for a third. The whole time, the mean biker's cock was sticking flush against her quivering hot pussy lips.
"Ow!" she said, turning around to catch another glimpse of his thick dick as it pounded against the flesh of her ass crack.
"You like that, huh, Chick?" he said, his eyes growing wide with excitement as he split the air a third time with his leather belt. The thong slapped harder against her heaving high butt. The delicious red welts that now appeared had turned a bright crimson where the blood was rushing to them.
"I think I'd like to split that hot little ass of yours in two," he said, as he reached his grubby hand around and grabbed a hold of one of her hot little tits.
"No, no, no...." she cried, tears of pain bubbling up in her eyes. "I can't take that!"
"You'll just have to take whatever I give you, huh, Bitch?" he said, grinning with pride in his manliness.
"You cocksucker!" the little girl called out feeling the sting of his belt once more race across the smooth flanks of her behind and leave a trail of red in its path.
"Devil!" Lisa cried, as Loner's throbbing cock threatened to cut off all the rest of her words.
She was sucking him real hard now, plying her whole mouth down on the insidiously curved and bent up pretzel cock of his.
She felt the slimy goodness of its whole hard length curve and twist around inside her mouth. It was like sucking a labyrinth. A hot, beating labyrinth that made her cunt jiggle just being close to it.
"Suck that dick," the big lone biker said, tossing his greasy blonde hair back out of his eyes to get a look at the action the little girl was using on his long, hard prick that was sending him into spasms of ecstasy.
"Wrap your hot little cunt mouth around that cock and suck," he said, reaching out to grab a hold of the little girl's clit.
He found it, jutting out from between her cunt lips, like a tiny motor racing at top revolutions per minute.
He squeezed it and twisted it around under his eager, hard fingers. He pressed it up toward her hot little box fringed with delicate blonde bangs, and down toward her quivering cunt lips. And that cunt slit. That inviting hot slit he was just dying to stick his fingers into.
"Fuck that prick with your mouth, Baby," he said, pounding her clit as hard as he could with his whole fist. She seemed to like it the rougher he got.
Lisa was practically swallowing his cock shaft by now. She left deep tooth marks all along the winding stretches of his schlong, since she couldn't keep it steady in her mouth. The way it bent and circled and curved around, it wasn't easy to keep a straight up and down action on it.
But damn that log felt good inside her. mouth. Hot and wet and sinister. Big and throbbing and insanely long and hard.
"Don't stop," the blonde guy said, wiggling his hips to stick more of his cock down inside her gripping mouth hole. He felt his balls slamming against his cock, buckling it into place straight down inside the little girl's expert sucking mouth. As straight as it could get.
"Yooooowwwwwwww!" Randy screeched like a wild goat as the belt cut her butt for about the fourteenth time. "Take your hands off me."
"Not till your butt is bleeding like a sieve," the cruel sadist shouted back, pounding into her with still another death-dealing blow of his leather belt whip.
Randy closed her eyes and let the tears fall where they may. Her cunt ached, her stomach ached, her tits ached, and her butt was crying out in raw, defiled agony.
Not that she wasn't excited. She was. Hot as a pistol excited. But damned if she was gonna let this ass hole know it. Big bruiser that he was, he'd probably stop and then where would she be?
Completely at the mercy of monster prick. The one that even now threatened to hop inside her ass hole and climb right up inside.
"You hot, Chick?" Loner said, relieving his tongue from its thrusting duty for a brief moment.
He had managed to twist himself around and suck Lisa's hot little cunt as he plugged her with his mammoth biker hands. She was really hot and juiced up. He figured it must have had something to do with how excited she was, though his hands had been pretty greasy. He'd changed the oil in his carburetor earlier that day.
"Pretty hot," the girl said, cool as a cucumber. She wanted to make him work for it, so she pretended not to be too aroused just yet. In truth, her cunt was about to shoot buckets.
His slimy, twisted dick stuck up high inside the roof of her mouth. She could feel his hard balls thrust up against her lips she was sucking so far down on it.
"Shit you suck like a leech!" the biker said, feeling that his come could not stay down inside his gut much longer. It would have to come up by the fastest route any second now.
"Suck my dick," he cried out "Blow that cock, Chick."
"Let your mouth down on my shaft and suck it hard."
"Blow that cock stick."
Randy's cries soon joined Loner's as Fox's cock head made its way up the blonde girl's writhing tight pussy slit.
She felt it sink in, plow up inside her cunt, displacing flesh and nerve endings as it did so. Christ, that thing would have choked her to death if he had stuck it in her mouth.
Fox shoved his gigantic wide load into the little velvety wet well of the girl. It had no room to breathe in there, so he had to let it out all the way, then shove it back in, just to gain a little friction.
He was stretching her out with each thrust. In all the way, then out all the way to his exposed cock tip.
"Oh, God," Randy shouted, tossing her head around every which way. Her butt blazed with pain and her cunt stung with the rough rubbing it was getting from the biker's incessant, wide dick.
"Jesus Christ," the blonde biker said, his cock put up inside Lisa's mouth so far his balls had jumped inside there, too. "That feels like come."
Indeed, his balls had let go their man load of hot cream and it now poured down, down the man's long shaft tube and emptied itself out the tip of his cock. It came out like a geyser, filling the little girl's oral canal to the bursting point.
Then, Lisa took a big, death-defying gulp and swallowed the whole huge load that the biker's cock had spat forth.
She gulped and swallowed and licked at the hot, heaving liquid that bubbled up inside her mouth and down her throat. It tasted like vanilla fudge before it hardens.
Then, Lisa felt herself pitch forward on top of Loner's humping hand. He caught her before she crashed out on the ground, caught her just as she was spilling her cunt load down onto his non-stop pump handle hands.
Randy felt a gripping inside her guts. A wrenching feeling. It grabbed at every nerve ending of her raw, red and bleeding butt and her punished cunt. It erupted into a shattering series of hard oncoming spasms, knocking the jism out of her.
It oozed down around her cunt lips and wet the man's big stiff prick as he thrust it ever more insistently into her gaping little pussy slit.
He tried to hold it off. Fox tried to hold off the giant wall of come that was building up just behind his cock shaft. He held it as long as he could as he continued to pump his peter into the pussy well. The sweet, oozing pussy well of this lascivious little wench.
She had taken her beating as good as any biker chick ever had. She had taken it and she hadn't grumbled. A few nasty words here and there, like any spirited chick would lay on, him, and then, a real dedication to the job of wrapping her little cunt around his big pecker wood as he plugged the stuffing out of her.
It had been good. Good for him and good for his huge meat stick. That tool that was now grinding down to its last full measure.
Suddenly and a little sweetly, his cock load skyrocketed down the thick shaft of his schlong and erupted out the wide prick slit at the end of his dick. It savagely burst in on the sodden pussy hole of the girl who now was breathing so heavily underneath his grip.
"Oh, God," he said, thrusting his hips down hard, trying to touch the bottom of the deep, wet and willing cunt well.
"Oh, shit, I'm coming."
"Christ I'm shooting my load."
"My load is shooting. I'm letting go of it!"
"Here it comes."
He braced himself against the bike seat and up inside the girl's unbelievably tight, hot cunt.
Christ, he thought as the hot, impatient load poured out from his dick tip, Get 'em while they're young. Get these chicks while they're young and tie 'em down. Tie 'em down and fuck the shit out of them. If they can still walk, you got yourself a fine little biker chick out of the deal. A fine little biker chick.
"You're one fine little biker chick," the heavy set biker said, mopping his brow and slowly regaining his breath control. "A fine biker chick, that's for sure."
"Miserable bitch!" Doug Hills said, sending his own belt tip down on the upturned knockers his wife so hotly displayed to him as she lay stretched across the guest room bed. "Take that and like it, Cunt. Take that and shove it up your ass."
He had really gotten into it in the last fifteen minutes.
He was getting a lot of assistance from Boyd, who was whipping his wife to chopped liver as she lay spread out on the chaise lounge with her honey hot mounds turned up to the ceiling.
"Insolent Slit!" the middle aged teacher called down to his wife who was protesting loudly with her screams and tears.
"Stop it, stop it," Paula yelled back at him, "you're hurting me!! ! ! "
"You ain't felt nothing yet, Babes," he said, reaching down at his feet for the little bag of metal clothes pins.
He found them where Doug and he had set them and he grabbed a few and tossed Doug over a few.
"Nail her tits with these," he said, smiling to his pal, "let her feel what it feels like to be put in her place good for a change."
Doug reached down and opened one of the clothes pins all the way up by pinching the handle ends. He stared down into the pincer end with great interest. What the hell would that feel like on his wife's lustrous big nipples, he wondered.
That's when he decided to find out.
He opened one all the way as his wife screamed and turned her face one way and then the other in an attempt to scurry away from him. She didn't get very far as she was strapped down flat on the bed.
"There," he said, opening one wide and closing it over the rugged terrain of his wife's glorious nipple.
"Oh, my God," the woman screamed her face turning blue, "oh, help, help!"
"No!" Paula protested, sobbing in defiance as her husband snapped one of the steel traps of pain onto her high rising butt cheeks.
It bit into her flesh like the teeth of a mad dog. It bit into one of the already pained and bleeding welts he had put there by slicing his cowhide belt into her.
"Christ, I can't take that pain!" Paula said, her guttural voice aching with the agony of excruciating torture.
"Take it and like it, Bitch!" her cruel master said down to her.
"Owwwwwwwww," Hope shouted above the already noisy din of Paula's screams, "No, no, no, no, no, no..... "
"Can we switch now?" Doug Hills asked before he affixed the second clothes pin to his wife's other nipple.
"Why not?" Boyd said, his rock hard dick pinching in his pants with the thought of moving from his spot atop his wife's back, but seeing Hope stretched out and so completely helpless like that gave him the impetus to get up and cross the room.
He wasted no time giving her a good once over with his searching eyes. Her body was covered with fine pink welts, delicious baby welts. The work of a first or second time punishment session. Nice. Very nice.
Her flesh was covered with goose bumps. Big, arousing goose bumps. And her cunt was running wild and wet with clear honey water. Her tits rose up like snow-covered mountains with volcanic peaks. And off of one of them, hung the insanely painful metal clothes pin.
Well, he would just have to do something about that. Like make a matched set.
He reached down onto the bed and found another. He snapped it onto the woman's big tit cap. It locked into place nicely to the accompaniment of her pained screams and curses.
"Holy shit!" Doug said as he surveyed the damage Boyd had done to his wife's rear end, "that looks like Satan's bike trail."
Paula grinned a little between her sobs. She was really proud of the job her husband had done on her. And she was a little envious that he had gone over to Hope. Still, it was good to have someone there to admire his handiwork.
"Stick some more clothes pins on," she whispered to Doug. "Just line them up in a row all over my back side. See what Boyd says about that."
Her cunt was putting up a furious display of arousal. Her clit banged against her cunt lips. Her swollen cunt lips banged against each other. And then, she heard another ominous sound. Her husband banging against Hope Hills!!
CHAPTER SIX
He hit the hot pavement and rode away from her.
She watched, clutched with grief as he faded into the glowing sunset down the concrete highway.
Randy rubbed her sore butt and limped over to where Fox was sitting astride his motorcycle, cap and visor pulled down over his eyes, preparing to make a departure.
"It's been fun, kid," he said, waving to her gallantly.
She waved back and wiggled up to him for one last kiss. He leaned down, bussed her lightly and planted a hard hand down on her ass cheeks.
She recoiled in pain and bit his lip.
"Fucking little biker chick, you are," he said, grinning and rubbing the place where the blood spurted.
Randy rubbed her swollen butt cheeks again and knew she wouldn't be able to forget while bending or kneeling.
In fact, every time she breathed she would catch a little reminder of the big brute and his wicked, hard hand.
His deliciously wicked hard hand. That mother fucker had made her come with the force of Niagara. She would be hot between her legs for days just thinking about what happened out on that highway today.
Lisa fought a little tear that rolled down her cheek. Parting was so sentimental. That Loner, ugly big lug that he was had been so sweet. The taste of his sour beer and cigarette breath lingered in her mouth. The smell of his sweaty hands and head came back to her in a rush whenever she thought of him. And that scrambled up cock stick of his! Wow! She could feel it scraping against the roof of her mouth and up against her molars at the slightest recollection.
"Golly," Lisa said to her sister as she limped along side her, "Bikers! Sis, we actually hooked up with a bunch of bikers. Johnny Evans, eat your heart out."
Randy shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't still quite believe that it had happened like it had. Nothing quite this exciting had ever gone down with them.
There had been plenty of boys after them, and they had gone after some of the better bargains, but nothing as exciting as these two butch-looking studs.
Christ, one of them had even pierced his nose!
"What if I get pregnant?" Randy said suddenly staring up in horror at her sister.
"Well," her sister said, reaching down and picking a twig out of their path, "Mom would still have you beat by two years."
Randy gave her sister a frown. She didn't much like having her mention that she had been conceived before their parents were married, when her mother was only twelve years old.
Not that it wasn't fun having a mother so close to your own age. It was. And such a pretty mother at that! But she just didn't like being reminded that her birth was the reason her father married her mother in the first place.
Sure, they got along. But she had always been really possessive as far as their Dad was concerned.
These and other thoughts danced in their brains as they hobbled back to the upper reaches of the park grounds.
Again, swings and slides and sounds of children greeted their ears. It was as if the two of them, like Alice, had stepped down a white rabbit hole and found that biker's turf. And now, the dream having come to an end, they emerged back up out of the hole, into the rational world.
They sat down in two of the empty swings a moment and reviewed the events of the afternoon. It had been one jam-packed couple of hours.
"Do you think Mom would mind if she found out about this?" Lisa said, answering her own question with her wavering voice.
"Are you kidding?" her sister said, throwing her head back and laughing rudely. "She'd have us thrown down the cellar until we were eighteen."
"Spoiled fucking sport," Lisa said, dragging her feet along the ground as the swing she went up in came back to the ground.
"She is a little funny," Randy said, trying not to sit down too hard on the seat. "I mean about Dad."
"Yeah," Lisa said. Her mom was funny about their Dad. She had certain rules that had to be obeyed.
For example, the girls could never wear their underwear in his presence. They always had to be completely dressed. And they couldn't be seen around him in their nighties. They always had to have a robe on over it.
Then, too, there was the rule that they couldn't go into the bathroom when Dad was in there. Not even for something vital, like a jar of hand cream.
"I guess we can't forget one thing," Lisa said, with her impeccable logic, "Dad was attracted to younger girls. I mean, he married Mom."
"He married her cuz she was.. . "
Randy's voice fell off and she let the swing flop freely from one side of the little dirt mound at her feet to the other.
"You suppose she's afraid we'll steal Dad away from her?" she said suddenly.
"Wow!" Lisa thought, shaking her curls back into place and staring at her sister intently. "I never thought of that."
Their father was a handsome man, an avid sportsman, a really good guy. All the way around. But they never thought of him as hot, exactly.
"I don't know that I'd want him," Lisa said back to her sister, feeling that her thinking had gotten pretty fogged up as of late.
"I don't either," Randy shot back, "I mean, he's cute, but what the hell. There are lots of cute guys around."
"You said it," Lisa replied, standing up and twirling the chains on either side of the swing around and then letting them go so that they snapped back into position.
"What time is it?" Randy said, trying to revitalize herself enough to get up and get out of that park. She was sure it was after two hours already. It had to be. All things considered.
There had just been too much gone down in the last couple of hours for her to keep track of the time, though.
"Five-thirty," a voice said as they looked up to see a friendly-looking man swinging his child in a swing.
"Wow!" Lisa said in disbelief, "that's perfect. We'll only be a few minutes late."
They two of them scrambled to their feet and headed out of the park.. They looked around uncertainly for a minute or two until they were sure which way the Hills house was.
"That way," Randy said finally, pointing to a familiar-looking house on the corner. "It's right over that hill."
The couples in the Hills guest room hadn't noticed the time. Paula's butt had begun to bleed profusely from the delicious red welts that streaked across her butt.
Boyd had crawled on top of Hope's ample big bosom and slapped her across the face several times to get her hot and even wetter than she already was before he mounted her.
His cock was ramming hard by the time her moans floated up to the rafters, telling everyone in the room that she was dying for it, absolutely dying for it.
"Somebody fuck me right now," she cried as she felt the monster pincer claws of the metal clothes pins dig into her nipple flesh.
"Beg me for it, Baby," Boyd said, slapping her face again.
"Please!" Hope cried, feeling her cunt burst into flames of red, hot passion.
Paula, too, had begun to feel like she had earned a thick, juicy cock.
"Come on," she cried joining her friend in her plea, "somebody do the same thing for me. I'm fucking sure am ready."
Doug Hills peeled his pants off his body, taking care not to damage his rock hard cock as he did. This would be the first time he had ever balled another man's wife. At least in his wife's presence. And the way he felt right now, he would plow that succulent little Paula Dexter for twenty minutes, half an hour maybe, then replace Boyd and crawl on top of his own gorgeous Hope for another twenty minutes to a half hour.
The tip of his cock ached to have a woman's cunt lips wrapped around it. He grabbed a huge pillow and stuffed it under Paula's upturned buttocks. Those rosy, running red deliriously yummy honey mounds. How he longed to stick his schlong up there in between them, find himself a hole and.....plug the bitch 'til she bled some more.
His prick head unfurled out the slit of his jockey shorts and he stood a moment at Paula's head. Well, it was just too tempting not to.
"Suck that cock, Bitch," he said, thrusting his thick tip up between her protesting lips.
She jerked her head around like a mad woman trying not to allow him entry. But, there was only so much thrashing around she could do. He clearly had the upper hand. And the larger cock. He stuck it between her hot, drooling lips and felt the hard row of her teeth press against the prick slit.
"Fuck me, fuck me," Hope said deliriously.
If Boyd hadn't known better, he would have sworn she had been taken with a bout of fear.
He hopped up on her stomach and framed his dick with his hands for her to see. Hope's eyes popped out at the thrilling prospect of getting such a fat, long hot and ready cock thrust up her.
Wanting to make it just a little harder, Boyd teased the end of his prick by wrapping his hand around the shaft and gliding the thumb and the side of his fore finger up and down over the cock head, producing slick, furious sounds of pre-cum juice rubbing against smooth, sleek skin.
Hope was going out of her mind being teased like this. To satisfy her a moment, he stuck the dick up into her face, but too far for her to wrap her eager, hot lips around it.
Instead, she was made to suffer even further by being forced to stick her tongue out and lap at the hard, smooth juiced up head.
She stuck her tongue out and flicked it furiously over the man's round prick tip. It was a new sensation to her. Another man's cock! And such a prize beauty it was. She wanted him to ram it down her throat and choke her with it.
"Here," the blunt-voiced man said, assailing her eager pink mouth with his bullet-tipped cock. "Suck on this for a while."
Hope could barely catch her breath long enough to open her mouth and take it down her dehydrated throat. Her whole body ached and screamed with rushes of white, searing pain. But it was clearly a double-edged pain.
On one side was the brutal, punishing force of the metal closed in around her flesh pockets. But on the other side, the flip side, there was the smooth, even heat of a terrific erotic rush.
Try as she might to stay planted in the real world, her brain and body kept soaring off into another one. That flip side world, where her pain became ecstasy.
She sucked on the pumping cock rod as hard as she could, eventually juicing up her own mouth which had felt parched and raw from lack of moisture. The pain had done that to her.
But now, the delicious comey honey from the man's cock slit was filling her mouth with aromatic semen. It had the additional benefit of causing her to salivate, easing the way for the man's cock to push hard in and out of her mouth.
"Suck that cock, you feather-brained Bitch!" her aggressor shouted hotly, sitting astride her face and holding his dick in his hand so that he could shove it into her with the greatest amount of leverage.
She felt the stiff column assault her mouth and cause her pussy to put up one hell of a tingle.
She thumped her hot hips down onto the bed as hard as she could, considering how trussed up she was at the moment.
And she eyed the action on the lounge as best she could. It was a heady sight.
Her own gorgeous hunk of a husband, the man she had been true to for nearly half her adult life was standing at the head of the tied down girl and thrusting his big pecker between her resistant lips.
Her cries mingled with Hope's as he continued to softly bruise those high round cheek mounds she could not help presenting to him.
"Swallow my cock whole, Cunt!" Doug said, taking up the same tone of voice that Boyd had been using on his own wife. It felt good to be the master, good to be in the driver's seat.
Not that Hope hadn't given him rein. She had always done pretty much what he wanted, tried to please him. But her imagination in the boudoir had lacked something. So had his. Until they met the Dexters. And now, this afternoon, things had progressed to a peak of arousal that even he found difficult to accept.
He certainly didn't find it difficult for his cock to be accepted by Paula's delicious little pink sucking hole of a mouth.
Christ that woman could suck!
"Take that Bitch!" he said, flailing his belt across her butt mound again. She seemed to take his cock a little more seriously each time he swiped her.
Paula Dexter loved the feel of new, fresh meat in her mouth. And this meat loaf was something special. Not as thick as her husband's monster schlong, but longer and redder. Meaner looking all the way around. And that thick hot blunt tip of his, nothing to sneeze about. It really felt good plunging down into her mouth ring. She hoped it wouldn't be too much longer before he climbed up and battered her cunt good.
The action on the guest bed was heating up to a frazzle. Boyd was pulling his giant pecker wood log out of Hope's hot hole of a mouth now and the long thing shone hot and glistening for anyone who would look at it. Hope had the best view.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she cried to the little assemblage. "I wish you'd hurry up. I'm about to burst!"
The man still took his time wiggling down, down across her flat torso filled with red abrasions. He was well aware how slow and cunning he was being. And he knew that would have the effect of heating the woman up to a lather.
As he inched toward her honey pot, letting his rock hard cock drag along, he managed to stick it hard into a few of the red and blossoming welts across her tummy.
Hope felt the pain split her head with beams of laser-light. The sensation was mind-boggling. Mind-boggling and cunt-boggling.
"All right," Boyd said, at last near the end of his journey from her mouth to the Y at her legs, "now you're gonna get it."
Hope hoped she would. She thrust her pussy up toward his face as best she could hemmed in as she was on all four sides by that punishing nylon cord. It bit into the flesh of her wrists and ankles, increasing the load of pain on her already overloaded circuits.
The massive man pressed his steel hard erection down onto her pubic mound.
Hope gasped as she felt it pierce the veil of her pussy lips. It entered her hot pink quaking gash and thundered up inside her cunt hole.
Christ, that thing is filling my gas tank, the woman thought. Good thing I don't have to breath out of it, I couldn't if I wanted to. Boyd chugged his cock engine hard up into the dark, wet velvety tunnel of Hope's cunt. He felt it glance off the walls of her delicious insides, guiding him along the inevitable path of her cunt channel.
"Oh, God," came a moan from the bed.
Paula was jerking her hips around hard, in the throes of a particularly mind-bending climax. Boyd looked over at his wife and smiled to himself. This would be the first in a long chain of many. He had seen her in action before. The hot little cunt could lay the Yugoslavian infantry and still be begging for more.
Good thing he knew how to handle her. The same way he had always handled her, right from the first day. Beat the living pulp out of her and then make her take his cock load up to her neck. That would cure whatever ailed her. Well, it had always worked well for him.
He plugged savagely at the trussed-up woman's thick blonde curly cunt. It responded admirably under fire, pulsating and pushing his throbbing dick up higher and higher toward the seat of her desire.
"Take that!" he said, reaching up and slapping her face for good measure. It didn't pay to be too gentle with these girls. Especially now that Hope expected him to slap her around. She was aroused to a fever pitch and her cunt felt it.
In fact, it felt like the third wrung of a ladder to Hades. The pit of some monster inferno searing his cock rod.
Doug Hills pushed his cock deep, deep into Paula's pussy slit. The pink lips around it crowded in on his member, until he pushed them back with his ever-advancing dick stick. He pulled her lips apart with his hands to allow deeper penetration.
She felt different than his wife. Her pussy was placed at a slightly different angle. And her cunt hair was more bristling. It poked at his balls that now slammed against her cunt bank. The sensation added to his own arousal as he continued to explore her inner regions.
His huge, long dick probed deeper and deeper into those profound depths where he had never ventured to go in another woman. But this felt marvelous, just fine.
"Oh, God," Paula had gone off again. And this time it was a series of nonstop screams.
A litany of moans, groans, yells, curses and heated asides. Boyd was used to her going off like this, shouting at the top of her lungs. Nobody minded, but then nobody noticed that her screams were covering another sound. A sound they should have been expecting, but were now too engulfed in the rages of sexual pleasure to listen for.
The sound was the sound of the doorbell.
And Randy and Lisa were pressing on it.
"Where the hell are they?" Lisa said after about five minutes. "You think they left?"
"Don't see how," Randy said, using all her rational thinking to keep composed, "their car's still here."
"Yeah," Lisa said, peering over at the sedan in the driveway.
"Let's go around to the back," Randy said authoritatively, "maybe they're in the kitchen."
"Don't see why they can't hear us, though," Lisa said as the two of them stepped off the front porch and headed around back.
Their ears were practically pulled off the sides of their heads as their mother's screams shattered the air.
"What the hell?" Randy shouted, jumping up and looking in the bedroom window to see what was going on.
"That's Mom!! ! ! ! " Lisa said, feeling the sting of terror course through her tiny frame.
"God, she's in trouble!" Randy said. "We've got to do something."
Without a moment's hesitation the older girl grabbed her sister by the arm and yanked her toward the back door. Not bothering to knock this time, the blonde girl opened the door as fast as her reflexes would permit.
She ran inside and bounded toward the room where the noises were coming from.
Lisa dogged her heels like a shadow.
Paula's screams had been joined by Hope's as the two women, locked in the throes of onrushing orgasms sought a vocal outlet.
Turning the corner as fast as her feet would carry her, Randy threw the door to the noise-filled room open and stopped in her tracks.
Her sister froze alongside her.
And for what seemed like forever, the two girls stood there staring into the room. Staring at the scene of sex and torture that filled their vision.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Doug was the first to hear the door opening. Perhaps because it was his house and he was sensitive to the surrounding environment enough to pick up strange noises, or perhaps because by the way he was kneeling and thrusting his dick into Paula's upraised wet cunt, he could see toward the door the best of the four of them.
At any rate, he spied the awe-struck two before anyone else.
Still pumping his hard pecker into the trussed up woman under him, still feeling the lock and twist mechanism of her cunt as he plugged her, he was unable to stop himself before he shot off in a wild ride of spurting come cream.
"Aarrrrrggghhhh," the man shouted at the high-point of his ecstasy.
He did this even as his eyes were locked onto the two open-mouthed girls standing in the doorway, staring right at him.
Boyd, unaware that his own girls had come into the house, rammed his rod up once too many times into Hope's willing honey pot. He blasted his jism out there, hard tip of his dick with a long series of shouts, moans and oaths.
"Fuck me," Hope cried louder and louder.
"Oh, fuck that cunt, you Wild Stud."
"Let me have that cock all the way up to my eyeballs."
"Fuck me, Man, fuck me."
"Wooowwwwwie!"
The spent and wounded Paula came an incredible fifth, sixth time, then let her breath do its own thing and heave her chest back to a normal rate of rises and falls.
It was only then that she was aware how silent her partner was. She looked up into his eyes for some shadow of explanation. Perhaps he didn't find her an adequate sex partner. Perhaps the old guilt had set in, as it had sometimes even with her husband.
His silence might meant guilt. And that meant that she would have to talk him out of it. Not too difficult a task, really. She would simply explain that she had enjoyed it every bit as much as he had and not to worry.
But, no the look on his face wasn't like that. It was different. He was white as a sheet.
She tried to read his lips as they formed silent words, mumbled something.. . Then, his hand went out, and his finger pointed to the doorway.
Boyd was concentrating on getting his breath back. As he did so, he pulled his still very stiff member out of the woman's reluctant cunt. It was reluctant to have him leave it.
He jumped off the bed and stood in the middle of the floor a moment before looking up. He eyed his cock proudly. Perhaps he would whisk it up to Hope's mouth and insist that she lick the slick, gooey film of come and cunt juice off it.
Yes, that was a great idea. He advanced one step and stopped dead in his tracks.
His two little girls were standing in front of him, clutching each other for dear life.
"Oh, my God," Hope said under her breath.
Her eyes had followed Boyd as he got up and had traveled over to where the two stood now. She was the only one of the four capable of speech, it seemed. Boyd was overcome with a gut-wrenching pain. As though someone had just stuck a knife in his belly. In his heart, too.
How could this be happening. Here he stood in front of his own little girls. The little girls he had so carefully hidden his lifestyle from. And he with his big, monster hard on jutting out from his sweaty, heaving loins.
"Boyd!" Paula called up. It seemed she was the only one who had hold of a semblance of her wits. "Close the door!"
"I'll do it," Doug said, grabbing his shirt off the floor and twisting his long dong out of Paula's gripping hole.
He masked his hard cock with the shirt as he stepped briskly to the place where the little girls stood shaking and blinking hard.
Then, with one muscled hand, he slammed the door hard. Right in their faces. He wasn't quite sure what had led him to take that action. He felt a little protective of the others. After all, this was his house.
"Mommy!! ! ! ! " Randy cried, banging the door with her fists and sobbing hard, "Mommy, please."
Lisa was wailing at the top of her lungs. "Daddy!! ! ! , " she screamed for her darling father, "Daddy, we thought Mommy was hurt. Please don't shut the door."
"What the hell are we going to do?" Paula said, feeling the bite of the nylon cord still piercing the skin of her limbs. The bite of the metal clothes pins still gnawed her aching and aroused flesh. But now, those trappings felt strange. Embarrassing.
"Untie me," Hope said, feeling the same embarrassment.
Both husbands fell to the work of untying their prey. Doug helped Paula get the clothes pins off her butt before she could sit up. Then, it didn't feel any too good. Her tushie burned like crazy when she tried to put pressure on it.
Hope was no less bruised and wounded. She grabbed the pins off her nipples and along her flat tummy. The rough, red bumps they had raised stung like a bee bite.
As she hurled them to the floor, she felt her heart hit basement. What would these little girls think of her? She had never even been introduced to them.
And what would they think of their parents, most important of all?
Boyd Dexter scooped his clothes up off the floor and hurriedly put them on. He was trying to think, but his brain stayed fogged. He paced nervously around the room as the other three, causing a great deal of commotion, rushed this way and that in an attempt to get their things together.
And the whole entire time, Lisa and Randy stood out in the hall and screamed. Screamed and kicked the door. Pounded their fists on the hard wood and shouted to those inside.
"Don't hurt her, Daddy!" Lisa said, sounding as though her little heart would break from the strain.
"You leave our mom alone," Randy yelled, nailing the door with her fists. "Leave her alone or I'll scratch your eyes out."
The girls sounded hysterical.
Boyd sat down next to his wife on the chaise lounge as she tucked her blouse into her shorts.
"Now what do we do?" his pert little mate said up to him, her eyes rimmed with sadness. She felt pretty awful about now.
Doug Hills threw his hands over his ears to escape the incessant noise coming from the two girls. The whole thing was beyond belief. And right here in his own house. It had all begun so innocently.
Suddenly Boyd sat up and clicked into gear. At last his sense began to function. His brain had taken over finally.
"Didn't you tell those kids to knock?" he said to his wife, the hair bristling on the back of his neck.
"Yes," Paula said, "but isn't it a little late for that."
"Maybe," Boyd said, sounding cool for the first time all afternoon, "but maybe not. They've seen something we don't want them to see. It's too late to change that. But not too late to show them it was their fault."
"What are you talking about?" Paula said, trying not to sound too stupid in front of Hope and Doug.
But her husband was often a mystery to her. She thought it was because she was so much younger than he, and his mind worked on a higher plane.
"Punishment," Boyd said, slowly staring down hard at the polished wood floor.
"Personally," Hope said, standing up and heading for the mirror on the wall, "I've had about enough punishment for one afternoon. My nipples are throbbing."
"Me, too," Doug replied, patting his wife's shoulder sympathetically. "Look, folks, it's been fun, but this last act, well, we just didn't expect it. I'm afraid we'll have to call it quits."
"I think we should go," Paula said, feeling about as welcome as a leper about now.
"We'll go," Boyd said, standing up and looking at the other couple huddled together and whispering on the other side of the room. "But I think before we do, we ought to remind the Hills that they invited us here. And their invitation was for the express purpose of.. . "
"That's enough," Doug said, his voice sounding particularly hard-edged.
The girls screams had died down to a dull roar. Whimpers could be heard coming from the crack under the door.
"I'm sorry," Doug said, modulating his tone and facing the Dexters with his shoulders hunched a little, "but we just didn't expect anything like this to happen."
"Fun is fun," Hope said, sounding like her husband's mouthpiece, "but I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave."
"No harm," Paula said, trying to cover, "we'll be in touch."
She smoothed her hair down in an attempt to make herself a little more presentable than she felt right now.
"I'm afraid you don't understand," Doug said, as kindly as he could, under the stress, "when I said call it quits, I meant that it's final."
"We can't get involved like this again," Hope said, twisting her face into a mask of proper primness. What if anyone in this town found out about our little scenario this afternoon. Our names would be ruined. It's one thing for consenting adults, but there are the children. Children you obviously can't control."
As if to punctuate what she was saying, Lisa let out a mournful holier from the hallway.
"Come on," Boyd said, seized with an overwhelming sense of disgust for these two. They had been sooooo curious about the Dexters' sex lives. He and Paula had made special trips and preparations just to clue them in on it. Had allowed them to participate with them, and now this was the thanks they were getting. "We're awfully.. . " Paula had begun to voice an apology, but her husband interrupted her by pulling her wrist so hard she was yanked off the bed.
Boyd Dexter felt his head grow hotter and meaner with each step. Holding his wife firmly by the wrist, he threw the door open and marched out, not even looking back to wave goodbye.
"Daddy!" Lisa said, the tears running down her face, "Is Mommy all right?"
"Why were you fucking Mrs. Hills, Daddy?" Randy said, shaking her long blonde curls around. Curls that had become damp and matted from sobbing.
"Not another word!" her father shrieked.
"Get in the car immediately," her mother snarled at them.
Lisa looked wide-eyed up at her mother. She had never known her to speak so cruelly to her. Her voice sounded like it belonged to the witch in Hansel and Gretel. Her eyes were frozen pools of fire.
Randy responded similarly to the angry burst of her mother. Her mother had bawled them out plenty in their lives. Had yelled and screamed and carried on like the juvenile she was, being barely thirteen years older than she was.
As far as Boyd Dexter was concerned, his girls had waited one moment too long. He reached down and slapped Randy hard with his right hand, then Lisa, just as hard with his powerful left.
The startled girls both dropped their mouths as their father's hard hand found first one, then the other's rosy cheek.
Lisa's hand went up and rubbed her cheek where her father had left his massive paw print. It swelled up immediately, leaving a burning palm outline where she touched it.
Randy was too shocked to even touch herself. She just stood there, mouth open, staring back at her father. Then, a moment later, the tears of pain and defiance welled up in her eyes.
"What was that for?" she said, feeling like he had just kicked her down a flight of stairs and pushed her off a cliff.
"Shut up or you'll get more than that," the man stormed angrily as he grabbed them both and hauled them toward the front door.
He led the screaming and protesting girls out the door as his wife held it open.
"Shut up!" Paula Dexter screamed.
The idea that her two little girls should have caught her in such an uncompromising position really angered her. She knew that she would have to make them pay for this. And pay hard.
Anger welled up in her like a flood and crowded out her reason. The social embarrassment alone was intolerable. The Dexters would never, never be invited back to the Hills house. And it had all been such fun up to then.
She was going to give it to those little girls good and hard. And she knew without asking that she would have the whole-hearted help of her husband.
Boyd Dexter fumed as he turned the ignition in the family car. He raged with the heat of anger like a furnace gone out of control.
Having been caught so fucking red-handed by his own two sniveling little brats. It made his blood boil.
He resolved as he steered the car out of the driveway and down the tree-lined street to let these little ingrates in for a piece of his anger just as soon as they got home.
Lisa and Randy sat uncomfortably huddled together in the back seat. Their father was driving like a madman. They were unused to this behavior from him. He always presented such a smooth exterior.
And what had the four of them been up when they had opened that door unannounced, Randy wondered as the scenery flew by her window.
What in the world was Mommy getting fucked by another man for? And what were those giant welts doing on her backside? Those steel clothes pins? What was that all about?
Not that Randy didn't think her mom and dad could do anything they wanted. She didn't really care what they did, not really. And speaking of getting hurt, her own rear end throbbed purple from sitting there on that hot hard car seat. She had nothing against a little pain being inflicted, if the person getting it was agreeable. If her father would only tell her it was okay, that her mother wanted it. That's all she wanted to hear.
Lisa stared out the window at the houses whizzing past. Soon, the car break necked out onto the ramp leading to the expressway. Fifteen minutes, about. Then, they'd be home.
She wasn't looking forward to it. Something about it told her that it was going to hurt a lot. And she didn't especially like pain she hadn't asked for.
Unable to hold her tongue any longer, Randy finally broke the silence of the car interior.
"Dad," she said, meekly, but persistently, "I don't care what you and Mom do as long as it doesn't.. . "
She didn't even see her mother's hand come back and hit her in the face. It happened so fast and it was over so quickly.
But the effect lingered. The burning, churning mass of flesh on her face that her mother had come down so hard on.
Lisa resolved to keep her mouth shut over the incident, seeing how her sister was smarting from it.
But why in the world had their mother lashed out like that? She didn't usually hit her own kids.
And now, as their father pulled the car off the expressway and headed for home, she was crying. Holding her head in her hands and sobbing her sweet child bride heart out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Dexter car pulled into the driveway with a hiss of the tires. Boyd Dexter slammed on the brakes just short of the garage wall. He wasted no time opening the driver's door and hauling ass out of it.
The rest of that crew could shift for themselves. He was mad. Burned up at the world. And especially at those lousy little daughters of his.
They had made his afternoon, his day, his week, probably the rest of his summer a complete mess. And teachers didn't have long to fool around from July to September. there would be no more gatherings at the Hills house, no more inviting them here, either. And it was so hard to find other suitable couples to swing with in punishment sessions. Most of them just weren't that liberal-minded.
They had tried to interest the McTavish couple in their sex games, but nothing doing. He had gone to school with Brad McTavish, known his teacher wife since they were teenagers, but the couple had rebuffed them when they got wind of what they were into sexually speaking.
It had been such a great stroke of luck, finding the Hills. Doug and that delicious looking Hope. He could practically taste her cunt in his mouth right now. Feel the hot lips of her enveloping pussy enclose his rigid cock up to the hilt.
Thoughts of their lusty afternoon together filled his brain and shut out his reason.
He slammed the bedroom door after him and sat down on the bed, holding his head between his hands. How the hell was he going to explain to the girls.. . fuck the girls.. . they didn't need an explanation.
It had all been their fault. Those little bitches. Worse than his own wife. Always teasing and flaunting their sexuality at him. Parading around in tight shorts and short skirts, reminding him of his wife at that age.
His adorable Paula. Now there would be no more fun for her either. She was so excited to share their sex lives with other couples. Like-minded couples. The Hills pair had been her first chance to see what another man was like. He had married her when she was so young.
And now, nothing. There would be no other invitations. No more summer fun. Cancelled. Undone. He saw his two teenagers in his mind's eye. He saw them striking their bottoms, reddening their butt cheeks.
And the longer he thought of it, the hotter his head burned. And the longer he thought of getting revenge on them for what they had done, the harder his cock got.
Paula Dexter was too angry to even speak to her girls. She threw her handbag down on the kitchen table and stormed into the bedroom. She had to knock at the door for her husband to let her in.
She rapped several times, but no response. She knew he was in there and she got a little worried. Her darling daughters! Spoiled little brats is what they were. They'd been told not to come in without knocking. And they hadn't obeyed.
She didn't like to have them disobey her. Threaten her authority. It made her mad. Burned her up. And just when she was about to have her sixth climax with that hot hunk of Doug meat thrust up inside her. That delicious prick.. .
"Boyd?" she called softly, knocking again, "let me in."
Boyd shuffled his feet toward the door. Shuffled them along like an old man. He felt like one today, quite suddenly. But he knew what he had to do, and he knew he needed his wife's help to do it.
"Get in here," he said heatedly into his wife's innocent, upturned face.
She stepped inside and stood in the middle of the room as she watched Boyd digging in the closet.
"What are you looking for, Honey?" she said, confused as ever now.
"Some stuff," he said, "I think you're going to have to help me find it. And when we do, we've got work to do."
Randy and Lisa found their way down to the basement and turned on the light in the family room.
Randy climbed up on the bar stool in the corner and peeked down under it to see if there was any soda left.
Lisa headed straight to the refrigerator to look for some ice.
"Dad's sore as hell," Lisa said, pulling the ice tray out of the freezer.
"He's sore?" Randy said, rubbing her cheek where their mother had given her a piece of her hand, "how about Mom?"
"Her, too," the little black-haired girl said, scratching her behind and dumping the ice out onto the bar top.
"So what do we do now?" 'Randy said, sitting on the bar stool and hugging her arms around the base of the cushion seat. She turned from one side to the other on the little pivotal stool and tried not to sound as confused as she felt.
"How about nothing?" Lisa said, scooping up some ice cubes and carrying them over to the bar.
A loud male voice boomed down to them from the top of the stairs. Lisa dropped the ice she was holding and let go of the muscles in her mouth when she heard it.
"You lousy little cunts!" the voice said.
It sounded like Daddy's voice to Randy, but she knew it couldn't be. Daddy would never say anything like that.
But right there in front of her stood her dad. All six foot and four inches of him; And he looked angry. Real angry. He was holding a huge leathery thing in his hand. And it looked mean. Mean as he did.
Mom was standing next to him with an unusual scowl on her face. She also carried something. Not something made of leather. But something else. It looked like a clothes line or a rope.
Lisa joined her sister and they both stared at the advancing couple. And they both wondered what the hell was going on.
"What is it?" Lisa dared to speak, "what's the matter?"
"You fucking little brats have ruined our fun, spoiled our good times," the woman scolded in a harsh, cruel voice Lisa and Randy had never heard her use before.
"And we're going to have to punish you for it," Dad said, evil as a bull snake. "We're going to have to punish you so that you'll never do anything like that again."
"We won't, we won't.. . " Randy said, looking around the room for a fast exit.
There wasn't one. This was the basement. The only exit was up the stairs. And her parents were standing on the bottom step.
"Spying on us, leering at us," Paula Dexter said, spitting her words out like rusty nails.
"We didn't!" her blonde haired daughter protested.
"Shut up!" her father roared.
He stepped down off the step and grabbed Randy by the neck, forcing her down onto her knees.
She felt them scrape against the linoleum floor of the basement as she saw her own blonde hair whiplash out in front as she tumbled to the floor.
Lisa ran to her aid, but their mother was too agile and quick for her.
Paula Dexter grabbed Lisa by the long, flowing black hair and pulled her away from her sister and her husband.
"Get over and stay over here," the petite woman shouted in her daughter's ear. "You might learn something."
Boyd Dexter grabbed his little girl's blouse and pulled the thing off her. He took both his huge hands and split the twin flaps of her blouse lapels open. And he split her little, flimsy blouse right up the back seam.
The sound of the tear wrenched Lisa in the guts. It sounded so fucking brutal. What in the world would happen next? What did these two have in mind?
She could barely make out what was happening next. Her father's hulking frame hid her sister's body from full view. He was leaning over her and.. .
But no! Lisa shook her head in disbelief. It wasn't possible. Could it be true? But the telltale signs were there. There was no mistaking what was going on.
Randy's bra flew to one side of the room. Thrown there by their father! He had pulled his daughter's bra off.
What the hell was he going to do now? Lisa turned and bolted for the door. She got nowhere close to the steps. Her mother caught her again and this time she was even harder on the girl.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she asked, sneering at her.
"Let me, please, let me.. . "
Paula did not even seem to hear her daughter. She grabbed one hand around her waist and pulled her tight little shorts down over her high, thrusting buttocks.
Then, she hooked her hands round the little girl's nylon panties and yanked them down the same path. The panties and the shorts slid down the girl's knees and ended in a heap at her feet.
Bare-assed now, Lisa faced her mother.
"No, Mom," she said up to her cruel-faced mother. The woman she no longer recognized
"We'll teach you not to peek and spy and come where you're not wanted again," her mother leered into her face.
Randy could barely decipher what was happening to her little sister. So preoccupied was she in comprehending what was going on above her. And all around her.
Her father had taken her blouse, her bra. And now, even as she shook her head trying to rattle her brain into waking from this nightmare, her father was squeezing her nipples. Squeezing them like they were lemons and he was making lemonade.
"Fucking little dumb cunt!" the man said, through clenched teeth. Teeth that looked like the devil's own to Randy from her viewpoint.
"Whip her!" Paula Dexter shrieked, slapping Lisa around as she shouted to her husband, "whip the shit out of her. I'll make her sister watch."
Her husband pulled the girl's buttons right off her shorts. And he wasted no time ripping her panties off her. Panties he and his wife had given her for her birthday!
The indignation, the bitter sting of indignation rose up in Randy's temples as she felt her father strong arm her into turning around.
But as she did so, the pain radiating off her buttocks reminded her that the last thing she should be doing now is turning her ass toward her father.
"What is this!! ! ! ! ! " the outraged man yelled at the top of his bassoprofundo lungs.
He turned the girl around rudely so that Paula could see what he was talking about.
Paula stared at the girl's behind and felt herself fume. It was blistered red. Swollen with welts and puckers that no natural accident could have put there. The girl had been whipped. Punished within an inch of her life. And one thing was for sure. She or her husband hadn't done it.
"What happened?" Paula said, her voice growing suddenly low and menacing. Like the growl of a bulldog.
Silence.
"You better talk, Randy," Boyd said, pulling his daughter close enough to inspect those marks. Sure enough. They were lash marks. But who the hell had done it?
"No!" Randy said full of hostility. Hostility that she had never known before.
"Talk!" her father roared.
He grabbed that deadly looking object he had carried down into the room. It was some sort of whip. Ugly, evil, menacing. It had a short crop handle on one end and a braided sort of rawhide strap hanging from that.
Neither girl had ever seen anything like that before.
Their parents had always disciplined them with the back of their hand, or the back of their tongue. By bawling them out. But nothing like this. Ever.
"You gonna talk?" her father said, waving the whip high up over his head, "or are you gonna bleed again?"
Randy buttoned her Up and stood there frozen to the spot like a little martyr.
Lisa couldn't take the tension any longer. She bit her lip to keep from shouting out loud, but that did no good.
"No, Randy, no!! " she shouted, twisting in her mother's severe grip. "You've got to tell him. He's gonna whip you if you don't!"
"Shut up, Lisa," Randy said, scared to death that the little girl would make things even worse by letting her parents know that she knew how Randy had gotten those reddening welts.
"What do you know about this?" their mother said, shrilly.
"Oh, oh...." Lisa said, shaking her head and feeling as though she might drown in her tears. How had all this gone so wrong anyway?
"Tell your father," Paula said, bringing one hard hand up in the air and smashing Lisa in the mouth with it.
A second trickle of blood joined the first as Lisa twitched her mouth fighting back still more tears. "No!" she shouted, feeling defiant and brazen. Let them beat me, she thought, I'll never tell. Randy won't either. They can beat us both silly. Beat us till we drop. I'm shutting up.
"I've had enough out of both of you," Boyd Dexter said, staring down at the teenager's dewy little cunt lips. They could be easily glimpsed through her angelic halo of blonde hair. Honey blonde bush, just like her mother had at that age.
His pecker recognized the sight all too well. It stiffened up under his crotch and threatened to make itself known to the world outside each time it slammed against his thick, tree trunk leg.
He grabbed his older daughter by the wrists and thrust them high up over her head. Then, he signalled his wife for the rope.
Paula tossed it to him and watched as he knotted one end in an incredible adept series of knots. He tied the girl's arms so that they stayed stiffly up over her head.
"See how you like that," he said, pulling her toward the bar. "And see how you like this."
He tossed her squirming, resisting body down against the bar, face first. Then, he spread her legs far, far apart.
Feeling himself unable to resist, he peeked up inside her luscious pink gash as she stood spread out like that. It was so neatly tucked up behind her round, red and welted buns. He tied one of her legs to the banister of the stairs, the other to the refrigerator door handle on the other side of the bar. And her hands, those poor little bound digits, he lay flat down against the bar and tied again.
He ran the end of the rope through the cupboard handle behind the bar.
Trussed up as she was, Randy still had fight in her. She shook her head around to see what was going on behind her.
And that was plenty.
Her mother was beginning to tie Lisa's hands behind her back, cowboy style. She watched as her father joined the action, winding the nylon cord piece round and round her sister's hands.
Next, the two of them dragged the black-haired teenager to the bar and bent her over one of the bar stools. They lashed her to the spot, face up, winding the insidious nylon cord around and around the circumference of the bar stool all the way down the legs. They were closing her in like a mummy. Locking her there to do with as they wished.
Randy tossed her head back and closed her eyes. She couldn't stand it. It was too horrid. Her butt cheeks burned as she felt the flush of embarrassed heat wash over her.
"No, no, no," Lisa was screaming every time the rope cord wound round her little hot body.
"We'll just tie you two up here so you can keep an eye on each other," Boyd said, feeling his rock hard pecker nod in agreement to the arrangement.
Paula had begun to sense the first stages of arousal, too. Her cunt was twitching like a worm on a hook. Perhaps there would be some fun here today after all. If not any more with the Hills couple, then with the Dexter couple. The Dexter couple and their adorable teenage daughters.
The ones she hated now. Hated because they were the apple of their father's eye. Taking her place as the youngest and hottest nymphets in the neighborhood. Maybe in the city. A distinction which used to belong to her.
She knew she was evil and wicked to feel this way, but she couldn't help it. These two kids of hers were just too damned cute and sexy for their own good. They needed to be taught a lesson. And how the hell had Randy wrecked her ass cheeks like that? She grew hot with jealousy.
Her own ass cheeks were painful, but her daughter's were pure art. Someone who really knew his stuff had spanked her in hot, long loving strokes to achieve that effect.
"It's your last chance, Randy," Paula said, moving away from Lisa and stepping up to where her daughter lay lashed against the bar top.
"Tell us who did this to you, how you got those marks on your butt," her father whispered harshly into her ear.
"Tell us or we'll make them look like a warm-up job," Paula countered.
The woman reached for the ice cube tray abandoned on the bar deck. She pulled out four chunks of ice and divided them into two handfuls.
Boyd grabbed the rawhide crop and held it around so that it dangled in front of Randy's nose.
"Guess you're just begging for me to use this, aren't you?" he said, savoring the moment before he plowed her butt with the thing.
Randy had decided to shut her mouth and shut it for good. These two creeps weren't getting a thing out of her. She tried to signal Lisa to do the same, but the two of them had nothing worked out ahead of time in terms of a signal, so it was difficult.
She tried winking at her, but her mother caught onto the ruse.
"Slap her with that thing," she. called to her husband, "she's trying to signal Lisa to shut up. Not that it's going to do any good. We'll get the truth out of you. If we have to whip you from now till Sunday."
Boyd Dexter stood back and took careful aim at his oldest girl's ass cheeks. He wanted to be sure that the braided thing bit into one of the already-existing red tracks slicing across her ass in neat rows. -
WHAP! the rawhide thing whipped the air and slapped down onto her butt cheek.
WOP! the braided end cut a red welt and opened it like a knife. The blood ran down in a delicious little trickle toward the crevice between her glowing hot mounds.
ZAP! the cruel master thudded the thick thong onto Randy's beautiful round rear, cutting an old track open anew.
"Owwwwwwww!" cried Randy, unable to keep her lip buttoned any longer. That damned thing stung like a son of a bitch. Stung her to the quick. Stung her so hard her pussy shuddered. Shuddered and vibrated. And the vibrations sent chills rushing up her spine. They burst upon her brain without even knocking. Her brain whirled sending mixed messages back down to her body.
But one of the messages stood out over all the others. It ignited her pussy lips and made her quake with the vibrations of arousal. Deep, subterranean vibrations of sexual arousal.
I don't see how I can feel so hot, having my own dad half-butchering me, she thought, trying to cast out the spell that held her fast. It's so fucking low of him to lay into me like this.
But the tremors persisted. They were becoming seismic. Each blow that rained down on her pink and red and purple and black and blue ass cheeks added to the inevitable earth-shattering rupture that she knew was not far off. She dug her chin into the bar and tried not to think about it.
Lisa watched in horrified amazement as her sister lay there receiving blow upon blow. She couldn't keep herself from screaming out in sympathetic pain.
"No, no, no, stop.... stop!! ! ! " she cried, only to feel the furious had of her own dear mother graze her upturned chin in response.
And her chin was just the starting point. The woman, furious to the point of temporary insanity grabbed the rawhide tormentor from her husband's hands and went to work on Lisa. She yanked her pussy lips open rudely and swatted her with the flailing tip of it.
She winced hard as the braided rawhide tip ate a flap of her pubic skin away. Ate it away and left the rest dangling in the breeze. The air that found its way under it burned her to the quick.
She looked up to see the seething facial mask of her mother as she continued the punishment.
One thing she saw etched on her face that she couldn't mistake. That woman was enjoying herself!
How could she be? Lisa thought as the next whiplash heaved down on her. This one struck her high up inside her pussy. It scraped against her clit and practically severed it in two.
She wondered what her clit would look like after this thing was over. Would it have a little fork in it, like the tip of a snake's tongue?
The thought made her shudder. Her pussy lips were doing a lot of shuddering, too.
Randy said a little prayer of gratitude that there weren't two rawhide whips in the house.
But her thankfulness turned to stark terror when she saw what her father was doing. He edged very close to her and stared her in the face. She had never seen him look so evil in his life.
"Spoiled my fun, you little blonde cunt," he said, seething down at her with his teeth exposed and his lip curled up. "You spoiled my life. You teased me into fucking you that day in school."
"Dad," Randy said, faking a little uneasy smile, "what are you talking about?"
Her father leered at her and reached one hand down along her back as far down as her ass cheeks.
"You made me lose my job. You worked all your little feminine tricks on me to get me to fuck you. Bet you thought I was some conquest, huh? A middle aged teacher with a position? And you, just a twelve year old dumb-ass broad with no brains and a meat grinder for a cunt.. . "
The man had worked his hand down under his daughter's white tight buttocks. He gripped her there fiercely, twisting his hand around one way and the other, bringing her to paroxysms of pain.
"Dad, no!! ! ! ! " the helpless girl shouted, "you've got me mixed up with Mom. I didn't seduce you. I'm Randy, Dad. Your daughter!"
Randy was only vaguely aware of the soft, thudding noise of the bull whip slapping her poor sister's flanks. She couldn't see much the way she was bent over that bar. But she could feel. And right now, her father's hard, huge hand was pinching all the way up to her twat.
"It's a little late for apologies, Paula," the man snarled, "you teased me into fucking you and I got you knocked up, didn't I? Just like you wanted, huh?"
"Please, Dad," Randy cried, the tears falling down her face like rain water, "you've got me mixed up with Mom. I'm Randy, Dad, pleassssseeeee!! ! "
Her cries had little effect. Her father twisted and yanked on her pussy lips so hard she thought he might tear them off.
The bruises and welts on her backside throbbed in painful, rhythmic waves. She could hear the sobs of her sister. But the eeriest thing of all, was the sound of her mother's voice.
In the last few minutes, she had turned into a vixen. A she-devil.
"Take that you bastard," she shouted like a woman possessed. "You got it coming to you. Seducing me.. . raping me before I was even a teenager! I was just a kid, for Chrissakes. You were a teacher. I looked up to you. And what did you do? Stuck your big, leathery cock into me before I was thirteen!! ! ! ! "
"Mom, take it easy," Lisa cried, tossing her black head of hair around and around, trying to avoid the smarting blows that rained down her body, raising welts the size of tire tracks all up and down the white, heaving flesh.
"You made me nearly die of shame! I was only thirteen years old when I had my baby. Your baby. You rat!! ! ! You fink!! ! You child-molester! You were a teacher, too. Shit, you shouldn't have ever been allowed around kids. You were a pervert!! ! ! "
"Mom, I'm not who you think I am," the tiny girl's voice bellowed out as loud as she could throw it, "I'm Lisa, your daughter. I'm not Dad."
"Don't give me any shit, Boyd," the woman screeched, "and don't toss that wavy black head of hair around at me to try to seduce me any more either. You stuck your cock up me when I was just a baby. A baby!! ! And I've had to pay for it every day since. Every day of my life."
Randy Dexter dug her chin into the bar top and wished she were dead. Her father thought she was her mother and her mother thought Lisa was her father. She could only guess What might happen next.
"Little hot twat!" the man said, "little hot twat that never could get enough. Well, now you're gonna get it. You're gonna get it where it'll do you some good, too. Maybe you'll shut up for a change after I'm through with you."
Randy heard the man unzip his pants. The sound terrified her even more. She didn't know what it was he had in mind and that scared her, too.
The next thing she felt was a thick, stubby wad ramming against her upturned ass cheeks.
"No!! ! ! ! " she shouted as she felt it knock hard against her quivering butt flesh. "Please don't, Dad. I can't take that."
Boyd Dexter had lost complete control of his senses. He knew only that his schlong was rock hard, that he must penetrate this disgusting little nymphet and teach her a lesson. He gripped his stiff pecker in his hand and locked his fingers together, bracing it in place. It was going to be a difficult penetration and he would need all the techniques he could think of to use.
"Don't do this, Dad. Please!" the girl continued, "I'm Randy, Dad. I'm your daughter."
The man's prick was behaving like a wild mustang. It flailed and bobbed every which way before he could steer the cock tip into the girl's pink puckering sphincter. He spit on the dome of his peter and worked the saliva around the rim, feeling the head stiffen even more as he did so.
Then, he stood back a little, tensed his ass muscles and charged. Charged ahead into the tiny tight, moist hole between the girl's white butt mounds.
"Oh, God!! ! ! " Randy cried, feeling a hot poker slice her ass in two. "You're gonna kill me, Pa!! ! ! ! "
The man braced his buns together tightly to keep his dick stick operative. It was plenty hard, but it needed to be pushed. Pushed all the way up the heaving tight bung hole of the blonde beauty that lay bound up beneath him.
"You lousy fuck!" Paula Dexter said, seemingly unaware of the ghastly scene on the bar next to her. "You made me pregnant and I'm gonna make you pay for it."
"Ma, please, don't hurt me any more," Lisa shouted, the sweat running off her body in sheets. The salt of that sweat stung her open wounds, put there by the whip her mother had so surely slashed her with. The salt added to the pain of the whole torture, making her head swim and clouding her vision. She felt as thought she might pass out any second.
"See how you like this," the woman railed.
Paula gripped the crop handle around its leathery base. Then, she reached over and deftly spread her daughter's butt cheeks. She took one look at the dusky rose eye between her mounds and gathered enough saliva into her mouth to make a long, sure spit ball. She spat it out and watched hypnotically as it dribbled down her daughter's butt, down toward her cunt.
"God, Mom!! ! ! ! ! "Lisa said as she felt the butt end of the crop pierce the sanctity of her anus. Her ass sphincter spread out by the sheer force of the leathery invader. The thing scraped her poop chute, scraped it and cut it and jabbed it until she was sure it must have begun to bleed.
Paula watched in awe as the blood trickled down out of her daughter's bung hole.
"You like that, don't you?" she said, rudely leering into her face. "You like that because it's cruel. You like cruelty. You were cruel to me, weren't you? Fucking me when I was only a kid. And now, I'm returning the favor. Feels good, huh?"
"No!! ! ! ! " Lisa said, squirming within the limited space the rope would allow her.
Randy could see nothing. She could only imagine what the worst thing possible that could happen would be right now. That was that her sister was getting ass fucked like she was. But with what?
Boyd Dexter felt his balls climb up and clutch his dick base. They banged against his shaft as hard as they ever had as he continued to pump his dick into the tiny muscular hole the girl presented him.
His cock was being massaged, pampered, pushed and pressed on every side, every vein. His nerve endings were on a general alert. His cock seemed to be gearing itself up for a big release. And he knew that release wasn't far off.
His pecker zoomed in on the girl's shocked butt tunnel. The gripping was the tightest hold he had ever experienced. He pulled his dick out once to look at it. Smeared from tip to base with the mucus of arousal. Young hot nymphet arousal. Virgin arousal.
Randy felt it, too. Her whole body had lit up like a Christmas tree. It felt like it was ascending into space. She gripped her ass cheeks with her own splendid little set of butt muscles. The ones she had gotten from riding her bike all summer. And she felt the entire circumference of her father's big dick plugging her to kingdom come. It felt whole and complete and sexy.
She let herself go a moment and flew into a rage of spasmodic orgasms. Ones she couldn't control or diminish.
Boyd Dexter let his cock up into the dark passage and pressed down on his standing feet. The feeling of power surged through his balls and shot out the tip of his dick. It felt as though it were boiling when it rushed out and splattered the tiny confines of his daughter's virgin ass.
Paula Dexter brought herself to a five alarm orgasm as she diddled her cunt with one hand and jerked the rude leathery handle in and out of her daughter's ass with the other.
Lisa felt the non-stop leathery rub of the whip handle poking her ass to a stiff peak of heated come. She shuddered violently as the whip tip prodded her in what felt like every pore of her body. She shrieked and tossed her head around violently as she shot off.
So loud were the four of them that they missed the tapping on the basement window.
Boyd drew in a breath, tried to steady himself enough to lift his rock hard dick out of his daughter's ass as he looked up distractedly.
There, stooped over the window and staring in at them were Hope and Doug Hills. The four of them could hear their shrill voices filtered through the basement window.
"We're sorry we were so hasty, Boyd," Doug was saying, shading his eyes with his hands to get a better look inside.
"Let us in," Hope said, imitating him, "we hope you'll reconsider. We loved having you over. Give us another chance."
