"You've been at my stockings again, Marilyn," Rose Trenton accused her golden-haired younger roommate.
Marilyn Foster tossed her shimmering pageboy and crinkled her dainty little snub nose. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Rose, don't nag all the time, I do declare you sound like an old maid!"
Certainly no man capable of a hard-on would ever have applied that epithet to Rose Trenton. For the auburn-haired, sophisticated, twenty-three-year-old postgraduate student of Williams College was as mature and desirable as any red-blooded male could have wished for.
Five feet six and a half in height, her face oval and patrician, Rose Trenton had a really superb figure. It was visible now in the diaphanous white nylon slip which was all she wore this late June evening, just a week before the semester would end. Her titties were highest, closely spaced, full pears, with wide darkish-coral areolae and pert nipples whose sensitivity several young men on campus had already discovered when they applied lips or fingers to those "titbits."
However, Rose was still a virgin-but a very wise one. She had gone in for heavy necking and petting, and a man's fingers had played with her pussy and made her come, while her own fingers in turn had gratified his aching ramrod by jacking him off delicately and lingeringly. She wasn't a teaser, but she had simply put her foot down about any involved affair until after she got her master's degree in psychology. For Rose Trenton had aspirations towards teaching, even though she knew that her own ardent body required love. Lush, oval ass-cheeks jutted from her slim waist merging with delightfully rounded thighs. Her skin was pale with rosy flecks so typical or natural redheads; and, she didn't need a bottle to keep the glossy, rich auburn sheen of her hair just as it was-it had been that way from birth. Her eyes were gray-green, her cheekbones high-set and somewhat slanting, giving her a kind of Eurasian look. Her ripe, yet small mouth promised untold delights in bed. There wasn't a man on campus who wouldn't have given everything he had for just one hour with Rose in bed, going all the way having that soft mouth clench round his prick or having his prick, once that had been done, thrust deep into the tight confines of her fleecy cunthole.
For the past semester, Marilyn Foster had been assigned to Rose Trenton's dormitory room, and in that time, auburn-haired Rose had had ample opportunity to know exactly what made golden-haired Marilyn tick. I many ways, she was not much better than an immature child, and it was quite obvious that she had been pampered all her life. Physically, she was really mouthwatering, and Rose had often thought that if she were a man, she would be instantly attracted to the golden-haired twenty-one-year-old senior. Marilyn wore her hair in helmet style, her face was demure and somewhat heart-shaped. Her mouth was large and ripe and tremulous, but the telltale sign of the riper upper lip was in itself an indication of her innate selfishness and self-centered ego. Her eyes were widely set apart, large and a soft sky-blue, and, unusual for blondes of her species, she had a soft white skin that was extremely beguiling. She was long-legged like a colt, but her body was a delicious study in contrasts.
Her hubbies were closely spaced, high-perched and mouthwateringly rounded, till it seemed that the inner curves would touch together when, as she often did, Marilyn put on a snug bra. Her waist was delightfully slim, and then her hips veered into appetizing, high-set, upstandingly rounded hemispheres with a gradually widening crease between the cheeks. Her thighs were long and yet they had the feminine curvaceousness which so incites a man's desires.
Her calves were like that of a showgirl, elegantly rounded, nervously muscled and beautifully sculptured. Her voice was clear and sweet and she occasionally giggled, a habit which could sometimes irritate Rose Trenton-especially now, when Marilyn was trying to shirk her responsibilities by making light of her own borrowing of Rose's things. That wasn't the first time. A month ago, the two young women had quarreled as Rose had discovered a little garnet ring missing, a ring given to her by her now dead mother, and it seemed that Marilyn had just "Borrowed" it for a date with Joe Benton, a black-haired, gregarious senior who was one of the mainstays of the college football team.
Rose knew, however, that Marilyn was a virgin. Marilyn had a curious naivete, about her and particularly as regards sex. She thought it very smart and daring to date a boy and to let him neck a little, and in a sense she had something of the qualities of a prick teaser, though she really hadn't had that much experience with the opposite sex to be able to discover her powers in that department. But Rose knew perfectly well when a girl is as lovely and self-centered as Marilyn, she is quite-likely to be narcissistic, and such girls rarely give themselves to men, but prefer to set themselves high on a pedestal and watch their male suitors grovel at their feet.
Rose's father, a retired attorney, had gone to live in Paris last year after her mother's death. They had never had been especially close friends, because Stewart Trenton had really wanted a boy. But Rose's mother hadn't been able to bear him another child, and so gradually over the years Rose and her father had become more or less polite strangers. With her mother's death, she had come into a small inheritance, and of course when her father died and he was sixty now and in rather poor health-there would be a good deal of money for her. But she much preferred her own independence, and the thought of being able to teach classes and to help,mold the psyches and outlook of her young charges was indeed a challenge.
"Oh come on, Rose, don't look so grim," Marilyn teased with one of those inane giggles of hers. "What's a pair of stockings more or less? My goodness, if that's the way you feel, I'll go out and buy you a new pair."
"That's not the point at all and you know it, Marilyn Foster," the auburn-haired beauty tartly declared. "It's a matter of principle. You just don't go round helping yourself to other people's things.
"Oh my goodness! But we're roommates, after all."
"That's true. But I wouldn't even dream of going over to your dresser drawers and helping myself to your undies or your costume jewelry unless I first asked your permission."
"Oh, all right then, I'll ask the next time."
"I'd rather that there wouldn't be a next time, if you don't mind, Marilyn. I declare, sometimes you act like a silly thoughtless child.
What you really need is a good sound spanking.
"That's mean!" Marilyn's lovely face clouded, and she began to pout. Yes, she was really adorable, in her changing moods, Rose Trenton reflected. What she really needed was a strong man to take her in hand, and literally use that hand to pound some sense into that undulating, shapely white-skinned bottom of hers.
"I mean it," Rose persisted.
"I wish you'd stop saying such things. I've never been spanked and I'm certainly not going to be at my age. Who's going to spank me, anyhow? Certainly not Daddy. And you know my mother died ten years ago."
"I'm thinking that your father must be the most patient and devoted man in all the world," was Rose Trenton's exasperated answer. "Let's see, that would mean he took you over when you were about eleven. How you managed to get through the next ten years without once having your pretty bottom smacked, I'll never know."
"Please let's change the subject. Oh, Rose, you know I'm awfully fond of you. Let's not quarrel about a silly thing like stockings. All right, if that's the way you feel, I won't borrow your things anymore."
"Fine. Let's let it go at that. Now I think we'd better hurry because you've got a last class, and I'm due in Advanced psychology II."
"Oh yes, with that good looking Professor Marshfield. He's a dreamboat. My, I wonder you don't go after him," Marilyn Foster giggled again.
Rose Trenton opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. What she really felt was an itching in her right hand, and it wasn't the sign of money coming to her. It was the almost overpowering impulse to tilt long-legged Marilyn Foster over her lap, lift up Marilyn's skirt and slip, yank down her dainty little panties, and give her what she had been needing all her young, spoiled and headstrong life.
CHAPTER TWO
"I'll be home around ten tonight, Mrs. Jerrold," Frank Foster said with a pleasant smile as he adjusted his new Borsalino hat and opened the door of the two-story house on Lombardy Road in suburban Northbrook.
Elizabeth Jerrold, the placid fifty-two-year-old housekeeper who had been with him for the past decade, every since his wife had died of pneumonia, nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Foster. Then there'll just be Miss Marilyn for supper tonight, I guess?"
"Right. But I wouldn't count on Marilyn, Mrs. Jerrold. She's-likely to be tied up at school, maybe having a date with some fellow she's sweet on, or she might even go downtown shopping."
"Yes, sir. I don't worry much about Miss Marilyn, she's a nice girl."
"Well," her father said with a sigh, "I'm inclined to agree with you, of course, if only because I'm her father. Just the same, she still has a lot to learn about keeping appointments and living up to her responsibilities. I certainly wish her mother hadn't died. I think she needed someone to bring her up during those formative years. But anyway, that's another story. If there are any calls for me, just tell them I'll return them in the morning. I'm going to take a day off from the office for a change, I need the rest."
"Yes, sir, just as you say." Mrs. Jerrold had her own ideas about where her handsome, gray-haired employer was going. Since he had just said he wouldn't be at the office, which was in Chicago's loop where he was the vice-president of a growing plastics firm, she had a pretty fair notion that he might just be going to spend the day and evening with Mrs. Heckley, who lived out in Skokie. In fact, Mrs. Heckley had been out to the house once or twice for dinner the last few months, and in Mrs. Jerrold's private opinion, she was certainly a handsome woman. It wouldn't do Mr. Foster any harm to think of remarrying, not after ten years, and with a grown daughter away in college finishing up in a few weeks. She was a broadminded woman, having lost her own husband about fifteen years ago, and she had to go back into domestic work because he hadn't left her much insurance. After a few jobs, she had read Frank Foster's ad and had been there ever since. He was a kind, generous and thoughtful employer, and she couldn't ask for a better one. As for Miss Marilyn, she was a very good girl, but just the same Mrs. Jerrold privately thought it wouldn't do her any harm to have a mother. Mr. Foster spent so much time in the office or else with that Mrs. Heckley, he couldn't give her the attention she really needed.
It was true that Frank Foster hadn't thought of remarrying, even though he had loved Elvira, his dead wife, very much indeed. But then his business had been in the process of starting up, and he was spending a lot of time working to forget his grief, and that was another reason he had hired Mrs. Jerrold to look after his little girl. Over the intervening years, he had been able to enjoy pussy here and there without making any particular plans and without paying for it with a pro. He had met Ellen Heckley about six months ago. She was a widow, thirty-six, with sandy-blonde hair coiffed in a fashionable upsweep, and she had a really ripe and delightful body which didn't betray her age. She had happened to bump into him at Marshall Field's one afternoon while doing her Christmas shopping, spilled all her packages and he'd helped her pick them up and apologized profusely. Then he had offered to buy her tea and cinnamon toast at the tearoom upstairs, and that had been the start of their romance. She was childless, her husband had left her fairly well-off, and she occasionally visited her older sister on Chicago's Southside. Her husband had been a certified accountant, and had believed in a heavy insurance program so that when he died from a rare blood disease at the early age of forty, Ellen Heckley hadn't had to worry about going out and earning her daily bread.
This pleasant, late June afternoon wasn't too hot, and Ellen Heckley's house was extremely restful and tastefully furnished. It was also in an area on a dead-end street where there wasn't too much traffic, so that if he parked his car in her driveway, there wouldn't be too much notice taken of it.
Frank Foster, despite his gray hair, was, at forty-seven, in his physical prime. His face was youthful, his blue eyes sparkled with animation, his straight nose and firm lips and jaw gave the impression of a man who could make decisions and who wasn't an introvert when it came to emotional problems. He hadn't really tasted the fleshpots during his life, for he had had just one brief affair before marrying his beloved Elvira. After her death, of course, he had had occasional liaisons with attractive young women, but always with the understandings that it was just for fun and nothing really serious involved. Even with Ellen Heckley, though they got along famously both in bed and out of it, he hadn't every discussed marriage. Maybe he might. There would be advantages of course. His greatest concern was for Marilyn, who would be out of college in a week. He hadn't quite decided what to do with her, and he didn't really know what she wanted to do with herself. She'd have a degree, all right, but she didn't strike him as being a career girl. She was still a good deal of a child, and that might annoy co-workers in an office where she would have to submit to discipline. Well, that problem could be faced in the next couple of weeks. Right now, Frank Foster smiled to himself as he lit a cigarette with the dashboard lighter, he was going to have a pleasant afternoon and evening with Ellen.
After he had parked his car at the very end of the driveway, he decided to go around the back and ring the doorbell at the kitchen porch, just so that any nosey neighbors who might happen to be looking out of their windows couldn't put two and two together about Ellen and him.
He caught sight of her in the kitchen, her face flushed, her lovely hair tumbled over one cheek like Veronica Lake, and he also observed that she was wearing a most becoming blue rayon dress whose hem ended about two inches above her dimpled rounded knees. She had on smoke-colored nylon hose, extremely flattering to her deliciously rounded calves and thighs. He felt his prick start to harden already. Last night he had talked to her on the phone and intimated that he might just drop in about one o'clock or so. Maybe she was preparing lunch for him, the darling!
He rang the bell, and he saw her start, put a hand to her cheek and then go towards the door. When she saw him standing there outside on the steps, she smiled and exclaimed, "Frank, dearest, I was just thinking of you!"
"I sincerely hope so, Ellen. But the way you jumped when the doorbell rang, I thought maybe you were thinking of getting rid of the guy who was already here, I know that's a very bad joke, forgive me," he chuckled as he took into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth.
Ellen Heckley was about five feet, five and a half inches in height, and delightfully distributed, all over in the right places. She had big round widely spaced bubbies, so firm; enough so that she could go without a bra without having them flop distastefully. Her bottom was succulent, upstandingly rounded, and extremely elastic and firm-as he knew from experience. Her thighs were just the right size, not overly proportioned as regards ripeness, and her calves were saucily rounded like a young girl's. Her complexion was a soft pink, and of course the heat of the kitchen made her seem as if she were blushing.
"Oh, I'm just a mess! I was trying to make an omelet for you honey, and everything went wrong. I didn't mean to get the kitchen so hot on a day like this, and just look at my hair. It's a mess!"
"I rather like it that way. It reminds me of Veronica Lake, especially that movie, 'I Married A Witch,' with Frederick March-remember that oldie?"
"Oh yes! Well, that's a very sweet compliment, dear. It deserves another kiss." Ellen Heckley clung to him, pressing her voluptuous body to his, and her soft full mouth pressed hard against his.
She had a dainty Grecian nose, a full and rather sensual but not selfish mouth, and large, humid hazel eyes, fringed with velvety thick lashes. He deftly unhooked her apron and let it fall to the floor, "I'll take over, honey. I'm not a bad cook myself, if I do say so," he told her.
In a few minutes, both of them were sitting at the kitchen table eating the omelet and drinking coffee, while Frank Foster intently studied the face of his beautiful, mature widow-mistress. There were many advantages in fucking a widow, because she had had plenty of cock in her day and was used to it and needed it. Also, since her husband had left her very well off, she wouldn't be hungry to hook onto a man permanently, so he could always feel at ease with her and not have the sensation that she was trying to barter pussy for a wedding ring. Also, she wasn't a gold-digger, and although her love-making style was rather tame, she was passionate and did excite him in her responses, which was all you could really ask for in a woman you weren't going to marry. Of course it was true that there were certain things she just wouldn't do and which he hadn't even tried to make her do, having sensed from their very first fucking time together that which pleased her and what didn't. She wouldn't handle his cock with her fingers, and she would never in the world think of using her mouth on him. On the other hand, he had discovered much to his private amusement that Ellen Heckley almost melted away, once his mouth pressed against the insides of her thighs or brushed the petulant pink, twitching lips of her ardent cunt. It was funny that a woman would enjoy that, and yet refuse to do something quite similar for the man who was giving her such pleasure. But that was the way women were brought up, and he wasn't going to dispute it. If he wanted that, he could always go to a whore, he told himself.
"Let me help with the dishes, just to keep my hand in," he offered.
"Now you never mind that, Frank honey. I've missed you. Why, my goodness, it's been an entire week since you came here," Ellen Heckley murmured, then blushed very becomingly.
He reached behind her to untie the apron strings, let it fall to the floor, and pulled her to him and gave her a long hard kiss on the mouth, his hands roving over her bottom. This always flustered her, just as if she were a girl. He figured that her husband mustn't have taken such audacious liberties, but how a man could keep his hands off that ripe, firm, velvety ass of hers was more than he could understand.
"Frank-you're awful-not here, please!"
"What's wrong with the kitchen? Honey, we've never done it standing up before-let's try it now," he roguishly proposed.
Her face really flamed then. "My goodness gracious! Whatever has got into you today, Frank?"
"Missing a week of lovemaking, that's all. And that's easily rectified, Ellen honey," he huskily murmured.
"Please, let's-let's go to the bedroom-that's where such things belong," she whispered, breaking away from him and hurrying out of the room to hide her sweet confusion.
He followed slowly, lighting a cigarette, watching the adulations of her ripely rounded ass-cheeks. He was in a very pleasant frame of mind, in an ideal mood for fucking. Everything was going just fine, the business was booming, and the only real problem was Marilyn. But he didn't have to think about his daughter now, because he had been noticing how she had been developing and growing up. At twenty-one, she was long-legged, and she had gorgeous tits and a shapely ass on her-and if he kept thinking like that, the first thing he knew he might be guilty of incestuous desire towards his very own flesh and blood, and that was still forbidden in this state as in practically all the others.
By the time he had reached the bedroom, Ellen Heckley had drawn the shades, and the room was pleasantly dim. The covers had been drawn on her big double bed, and that was an invitation, if ever he saw one. He began to take off his coat and shirt and tie, but Ellen was already in the bathroom, and he could hear the water running. He smiled to himself. He wondered what it would have been like to fuck that sweet piece the first night. She must have been a bundle of nerves, and the way she blushed and giggled and squealed sometimes when he tickled or pinched her while they were fucking, made him regret sometimes, not to have been the first man in her life.
So, blithely he went on with his undressing, getting down to his shorts and socks, then sauntered over to the bed and sat down on the edge to wait for her, smoking his cigarette. Presently the bathroom door opened and Ellen came out. She had combed her hair very neatly and primly, and she was still blushing very vividly. All she wore was a clinging black nylon slip and sandals, and the slip was practically transparent so that he could see the broad areolae of her bubbies and the firm nipples which pouted and pressed hard against the filmy fabric, and the deep hollow, grotto of her cunthole with the thick fleece which practically hid it. His eyes burned as they swept her, and Ellen blushed. She even went so far, in a sort of a girlish instinct of prudery to put a hand over the mossy triangle between her legs, and he laughed softly: "You're something, Ellen! Just like a shy virgin, and that's good. Nothing better to arouse a man's desire in the afternoon. There's an idea for a book, a good title, Desire in the Afternoon!"
"Oh you hush up, Frank Foster," she giggled softly as she scurried over to the other side of the bed and hastily clambered onto it. He knew that she was wearing a diaphragm, and he was happy that she was as modern as that, because he hated wearing safes. They dulled all the sensation, and there was nothing like feeling the naked stiff cock being gripped in the tight warm moist sheath of an ardent woman.
He turned to her on his side, put one hand on one of her magnificent bubbies, his left hand caressing the back of her round soft neck. Their lips met, and Ellen Heckley shivered and sighed ecstatically as she felt him press towards her. He made no secret about wanting her. His prick was practically bursting through the fly of his thin shorts, and it was prodding right against her pussy. Her face was crimson like a schoolgirl who had just been caught with her panties down in front of the entire assembly hall get together. He liked that about her, because it made her seem even younger than she was. Maybe she wouldn't handle his prick and maybe she wouldn't take it in her mouth, but she was still a helluva piece in bed. He knew how to get to her, too.
Slowly his palm began to rub her tittie, flattening the nipple back and forth, pushing it from side to side, until he could hear her catch her breath and gasp, feel her squirming against him, and then suddenly and impulsively her arms wrapped around his neck and squeezed him tightly as her bubbies mashed against his naked chest. Their lips were merged, and now delicately he put his tongue just inside her lips, and was rewarded by her sudden "oh!" and her spasmodic squirming against him.
His right hand left her bubbie now, moving down her belly and towards the lovely rich curve of her haunch. He could feel the flesh quivering and palpitating all along the way, and she was moaning and gasping now, because she was getting hot. Now his hands swerved round the jutting curve of her ass summit, and then his fingers sank gently into the resilient flesh.
"Ohhh, F-Frank, oh darling!" she whimpered, clutching him all the tighter.
He moved his hands away for a moment to unfasten the buttons at his fly, to liberate his hugely swollen prick. Then, in almost the same movement, he took hold of the slip and lofted it slowly over the tops of her thighs and the curving rondure of the ripe bare hip, exposing her cunt. Now, palming the crease between her velvety naked pink-sheened ass, Frank Foster moved forward, till the tip of his whang rubbed demandingly against the thick curls of her cunt fleece.
"Ohh, my darling, oh yes, yes, I want you so much," she panted.
She was arching to him now, giving all of herself, and his hand was pressing her ass forward so that her cunt would impale itself upon his already drawn blade. Now his tongue gouged deeper into her mouth than before, and his left hand controlled her neck as he advanced upon her. He could feel the soft lips of her pussy twitching, moistening. She had many climaxes, though you couldn't always tell when Ellen Heckley was actually coming. She would give a little shiver and a moan, and before you knew it, she would be leaving one climax to go into another one. She wasn't the kind who thrashed and kicked about, who had wild screams till you were afraid the neighbors were aware of what was going on.
But there was nothing to complain about so far as her passionate response was concerned. Now her hands were stroking his chest, and her tongue was lashing back at his as hotly as a pro could do. He felt himself just edge inside her cunt, and pressed home his advantage. Now a good three inches were imbedded, and he begun to feel the clinging kisses of her cunt walls.
His palm pressed harder against her behind, and she sobbed again in her delight. His mouth silenced her, for he wanted no words now. Then with a thrust, he felt himself spear her to his very balls. In the same movement, even as she gasped out her joy, Frank Foster rolled her over onto her back and was thus mounted in perfect position for a fuck.
Now he slipped both hands under her behind and gripped the meaty, soft, satiny cheeks of that sweet ripe ass of hers. He rested for a minute, feeling the enclaspment of her cunt walls, feeling the wild pounding of her heart against his naked, perspiring chest. Her arms had locked around his shoulders, and her eyes were closed and her nostrils were flaring, sure signs that she was well on the road to paradise.
Slowly he drew himself back, almost to the brink of her cunthole, and she uttered a low sobbing groan, and her fingernails dug hard into his bare back. She wanted him to come back at once, and so he did. Slowly and deliberately he pressed forward, burying himself to the very balls. And now instinctively, her legs wrapped around his thighs, as she clenched him to her with her arms and legs and all her cunt.
Slowly, grinding his teeth to hold back his spunk, Frank Foster began to fuck his beautiful mistress. Ellen Heckley, sobbing and groaning in her joy, her eyes tightly shut, but her nostrils continuing to flicker and clench, locked herself to him, and he could feel every volute of her cunt sheath catch and press against his extended taut weapon.
Suddenly, he wasn't proof against the temptation she offered any longer. He uttered a cry, dug his fingers into her eager ass, as he merged with her and felt-himself explode. And this time, Ellen Heckley bucked and squirmed, and moaned, and crushed her mouth to his as they expired in the sweet bliss of mutual fulfillment.
CHAPTER THREE
The semester had just ended, and Rose Treton and Marilyn Foster had said their good-byes, because of course Marilyn would go back home and probably laze around all through the summer while Rose continued her postgraduate work at Williams College. For the sake of convenience, she decided to keep her dormitory room but of course now she would have it all to herself. A week had passed since Frank Foster had visited his beautiful sandy-haired mistress Ellen Heckley; and now that Marilyn was back home, Mrs. Jerrold had begun to fall into a predictable routine as regards meals and schedules.
It was Wednesday of this first week of vacation, and Mrs. Jerrold was reporting to her employer at the breakfast table. Lovely blonde Marilyn was still asleep.
"I hate to mention it Mr. Foster, but Miss Marilyn is really very untidy around her room. I've had to pick up her clothes half a dozen times in a single day."
"That's ridiculous! My gosh, she's twenty-one, a grown-up woman, you'd think she'd be properly instructed on such a simple matter as taking care of her own clothes," her father said exasperatedly.
Placid Mrs. Jerrold nodded her agreement. "I thought perhaps you might speak to her, sir," she tactfully suggested. "I don't really like to say anything to her, because it's really not my place."
"I know what you're getting at, Mrs. Jerrold. You probably think it would be a good idea if Marilyn had a mother again. Well, you're right. I might just do that one of these days, but at the moment I don't have any candidates. Anyway, I've got to go out to Shokie this morning to drop off a package for a friend of mine, and then I'll go into town and see how business is getting along. I should be back by six tonight. Oh, and if Marilyn wants anything for lunch, let her eat in the kitchen. Don't you dare prepare it on a tray and bring it up to her room the way you did the last two days, Mrs. Jerrold. It's true that she's a welcome guest, but she's not exactly royalty," her father said with an irritated look as he got up from the table and nodded to his housekeeper.
Of course it was none of Mrs. Jerrold's business, and privately she wished him every happiness in the world, but she wasn't sure if it was really proper form for a businessman to go gallivanting off in the middle of the day to see his sweetheart, even if he was successful in business.
* * *
"Oh, no, why did this have to happen, at a time like this?" Rose Trenton groaned as her car suddenly came to a halt. The ignition seemed to have gone dead, and even when she turned the key and pressed her foot down on the accelerator, there was absolutely no response. With a sigh of annoyance, the lovely auburn-haired young woman got out of the car-and looked disconsolately down the road. She had called her friend to let her know that she was coming, but right here there wasn't a phone in sight, certainly not a public one, and there weren't very many houses either. Maybe a cab would come along.
Frank Foster was in a jovial mood. He had put in a phone call to the office, and his secretary had told him that several orders had just come in. Maybe he could afford to take a vacation this summer, even take Marilyn along with him. It might just do her a world of good. The two of them hadn't really been all that close, at least not on a prolonged trip. They could get to know each other better, and maybe it would serve to catch up on his paternal duties as regards giving her some cues on how to behave and get along with people a little better than she was apparently doing right here at home with Mrs. Jerrold. What he was really going to suggest to his lovely mistress Ellen Heckley was that maybe they could make it a threesome, even get married-that is, when the trip was over and they still felt the same way about each other. He decided to take the shortcut to Ellen's house, and turned off Pine Grove Avenue onto Lurlane Road. Fate was at the wheel, although Frank Foster had no way of knowing that. There wasn't any traffic on Lurlane at all at this time of the day, and he congratulated himself on his decision. He could have a little while longer with Ellen, maybe get in a quick one before he went on to Chicago to the office.
Then his eyes widened and he slowed his car. Standing out in the street beside a blue car, was one of the most delectable pieces of quim he had ever seen in all his life. She had auburn hair, a terrific shape, and the brown rayon dress hugging her bubbies and thighs and hips did full justice to it. As for her legs, those were the kind he liked to whistle at, and now that he was slowing to a full stop, he could see that they were even shapelier than they had seemed at first glance, and they were also sheathed in smoke-colored nylons. He had always liked that particular color of hosiery on a woman's legs, especially if she had nice fair or white skin. And this one most assuredly did!
"Can I be of any help, Miss?" he courteously offered as he got out of the car.
"Oh dear, I'm so grateful you stopped, because this car of mine just went dead and I can't figure out why," Rose Trenton said helplessly. She couldn't help noticing how athletic and trim he was, even if he did have gray hair. He had bright eyes, an intelligent and even whimsical mouth, and she liked his quick, decisive speech and the resonant baritone voice in which it was couched.
"Let's have a looksee," he suggested. "Open the hood for me-just press the button on the left of the dashboard, that'll do it," he suggested.
Rose Trenton got back into her car, pressed the button, and the lock of the hood slipped back and Frank Foster lifted it. He peered down at the motor, touched a wire here and there, and then nodded as if to confirm his first suspicion: "Looks very much like the transmission. Has it been jerky the last few days?"
"Why, come to think of it, yes. That was so stupid of me, not to have something like that checked at the service station. It's awfully kind of you to stop."
"Not at all. Tell you what, why don't I give you a lift to where you're going, and you can phone from there to have a service man come by and get your car? No trouble at all."
"Well really, I don't want to impose upon you, Mr.-"
"Frank Foster."
"Thank you, Mr. Foster. My name's Rose Trenton."
For his part, Frank Foster liked her even more now that he was standing close to her. She had a kind of delicate perfume to her which he couldn't quite identify, but it was very delicious. So was her voice. It was a bedroom voice if he had every heard one. A nice husky contralto, with a certain amount of self-assurance and poise. Now if only Marilyn could look and act like this, she could conquer the world, even Mrs. Jerrold. "Where were you going, Miss Trenton?"
"Actually, to 1067 Forrest Street, Mr. Foster."
"That's only a few miles from here. I'll be happy to take you. Get in. Do you have any particular station in mind or have you a regular garage? I have one out where I live, and I'd just as soon call them and have them come out and get the car. It would be really easy."
"That's awfully accommodating of you, Mr. Foster. I don't know how to thank you."
As a businessman, Frank Foster had been making impulsive decisions for years and could attribute much of his success to them. He made one now. "Miss Trenton, how would you like to have lunch with me? I'll be going into the Loop to my business, and by the time I get there, it'll be noontime."
"Why-I-don't know what to say. I was going to visit a friend, you see, when this happened. I did tell her I was going to visit her buW-"
"Yes, I see. Still, you'll want your car picked up or you won't have transportation. I tell you what, I've another call to make, and I can prick you up in an hour or two after you've had your visit with your friend, and then we can go on down to the Loop. How's that"
Rose Trenton flushed, because his tone seemed more than just casually interested. She was wise to the ways of men, and she was reasonably sure that this was a pickup. Just the same, she didn't resent it, not from as handsome and poised a man as Frank Foster. And after all, he had really saved her from quite a jam, and it wasn't compromising her or anything like that to thank him by having lunch with him. "I think," she said hesitantly, "that would be very nice, Mr. Foster."
"Fine. Now we'll go to this friend of yours, I'll make my stop and come back for you-" he consulted his wristwatch-"by about noon. We can make it into Chicago in an hour, and I'll just phone at my club to have a table for one o'clock. You'll have the best lunch money can buy, and none of the rushing and crowding and noise you have in most of the Loop restaurants. How does that sound?"
"Really-you shouldn't do all this for me, Mr. Foster."
"I want to. You've been inconvenienced, and I just happen to be around, and I guess, well, maybe it's the good Samaritan in me," he chuckled.
He let her out at the address, Rose shook hands with him, and Frank Foster drove away towards the house of his mistress. He already felt stimulated-but not particularly for Ellen Heckley. His mind and his senses were filled with the beauty, the intelligence, and the physical enticement of luscious auburn-haired Rose Trenton . . .
"Why, Frank, what a lovely surprise!" Ellen Heckley opened the door hesitantly, then recognizing him, beamed happily. "Do come in, darling!"
"You look especially gorgeous this morning." He took her in his arms, ran his hands down her bottom and squeezed the cheeks hard as he pulled her to him and kissed her very satisfactorily on the mouth. All the time, the image of Rose Trenton was dancing in his mind. Nonetheless, Ellen Heckley was really very fuckable even so early in the morning. Early, for her, since she usually slept until ten o'clock. All she had on was a pink silk peignoir, very much like a negligee, but even more like a slip, except that it was deeply cut at the bosom and at the back, and that it fell to the middle of her calves. That and comfortable felt slippers comprised her attire. The rustling feeling of the silk which clung to her juicy ass-cheeks titillated him, and he felt his prick immediately responding. He frowned a little, because he wasn't quite sure yet whether it was just because he was in a horny mood for Ellen or whether it was because he had sat next to the most terrific redhead he had seen in a long, long time. Her perfume was still clinging in his nostrils, and he knew he was going to have to identify it.
"You can really stoke a man's fire, Ellen baby," he muttered thickly as he kissed her on the neck, his fingers digging deeper into her ass.
"Oh lover, you send me too," Ellen Heckley huskily murmured as she closed her eyes and clung tightly to him. He could feel his prick-head rubbing against the crotch of the filmy silk peignoir as he held her, and her convulsive squirmings only served to rub her pussylips against his yearning cock.
"Let's go right to bed," he proposed.
"Frank! I'm beginning to think you're a sex maniac, darling," Ellen Heckley happily gurgled. "But let's, anyway. Mmmmm, you're so strong, and you're awfully excited. It's very flattering to a girl my age to think she can still do that to a nice-looking man like you. Oh darling, what are you doing-not here, in bed, lover-oh my, oh Frank-ahhhhh, oh dearest-oh my Lordy, you make me feel positively shameless-oh Frank, oh harder dearest, give it to me, oh Frank, Frank, Frank-ahhh! ! "
He hadn't been able to wait. Yanking down his zipper and unbuttoning his shorts, he liberated his ramrod. Then, releasing the cheeks of her ass, he had yanked away the peignoir up to her armpits, his hands had clutched her titties, and he had pressed himself against her mossy cleft. At first she resisted, only for the sake of form, but the moment she felt his prick tip probe between the lips of her tingling snatch, she uttered a groan of delight and surrendered herself. A moment later, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck, her body grinding to his, she was returning as good as she got. . .
Frank Foster was in a pleasantly exhausted and yet refreshed mood as he drove back to the house where he had left Rose Trenton. Momentarily at least, he wasn't thinking about pussy now, but he had made a date with a lovely au-burn-haired young women and besides he had to go on down to the Loop, so he might as well kill two birds with one stone. He walked up to the steps, rang the bell, and Rose herself came out to greet him: "Perfect timing, Mr. Foster! It's ever so nice of you to do this for me," she exclaimed.
"My pleasure. I hope you're hungry."
"I'm starved," she laughed softly.
He helped her into the car, got behind the wheel and started to drive towards Chicago. Once again he was conscious of the subtle perfume she was wearing, and also of her beauty. When they turned the corner, she naturally leaned slightly toward him, and he could feel the pressure of her firm round thigh against his. It started tingling in his balls all over again, just as if he hadn't already extended plenty of gismic energy with luscious Ellen.
The waitress at his favorite club escorted Rose and him to an intimate secluded booth, took their order quickly, and Frank Foster leaned back to scrutinize the young woman whom he had assisted earlier this day. "Tell me something about yourself, Miss Trenton," he urged.
"There isn't too much to tell. I'm going to be a teacher, and I've been doing postgraduate work at Williams College."
"Williams College?" he echoed. "Why, my daughter goes there."
"Of of course-do you know, if that isn't the strangest coincidence!" Rose Trenton leaned forward across the table, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "My roommate, up until the end of this last semester, happened to be Marilyn Foster. I just wasn't thinking, or I might have guessed that you could have been her father."
"That's correct. Marilyn is my only child. You see, Miss Trenton, my wife died about ten years ago, and my housekeeper and myself have done our best to bring Marilyn up as well as we know how. Well, it really is a coincidence. So you're her roommate! I'd say she was a very lucky girl."
"That's very flattering, thank you. Do you know, you're not at all what I expected."
"Oh? How's that, Miss Trenton?"
"I do wish you'd call me Rose, Mr. Foster. I'm not that old yet."
"But you're older than my daughter, aren't you?"
"I'm twenty-three, going on twenty-four."
"You're a very beautiful woman. What I mean is that-what I'm more interested in knowing is why I don't come up to your expectations as Marilyn's father," he suddenly changed the topic.
"Well, I really shouldn't say this because Marilyn isn't here to defend herself. But my impression of her was that she was very spoiled and maybe her parents ought to have taken her in hand a long time ago. I'm sorry, but of course I didn't know you were her father, and though she had told me about her mother's having died some years ago, I should not have really been so outspoken now. I do apologize, Mr. Foster."
"If I'm to call you Rose, then you must call me Frank. Nothing to apologize for, my dear. And you're quite right about Marilyn. Matter of fact, I have been worrying about her and what I'm going to do with her this summer. She's finished college now, with a fair average, nothing sensational. I don't know that she wants to be a career girl particularly and I would hardly use her in my own business, though I do think a job of some kind would be good discipline for her."
"I think you are right, Frank."
"So, you were my daughter's roommate. It's funny, she never said very much about it. But then I suppose that's because she's somewhat self-centered. I realize I'm to blame for that, but then I couldn't help it. I probably ought to have thought about getting married as soon as my wife died, if only to give Marilyn a mother. My housekeeper, bless her soul, is a fine woman, but much too easygoing. There are times when I would agree that Marilyn does need a firm hand."
"I know," Rose Trenton leaned forward as he lit her cigarette, then leaned back and giggled reminiscently: "I told her just about a week before school ended that what she really needed was a good spanking."
Frank Foster looked at her with more than considerable interest. He was finding this delectable red-haired piece of pussy a most engaging personality, with brains as well as beauty, and a good deal of commonsense. "Why, what did she do to earn a spanking, Rose?" he wanted to know.
"Well, nothing, to serious, Frank. Except that she had the habit of borrowing stockings and undies and things like that from me without so much as a by your leave. And in lots of ways she was such a child, about things like that. It was as if she didn't have any responsibility or understanding of how to get along with people."
"My feeling exactly. I've been a little concerned about her-of course she's a good girl, we both know that. But she's inclined to be selfish and very opinionated, maybe even a little too shallow for her own good."
"I'm really sorry that I brought this up, Frank. I certainly don't want you to think that I'm just a carping critic."
"Not at all! It's really a lucky stroke for me that I met you, Rose. You've just given me an idea-I'm not ready to discuss it just yet, but you'll hear of it from me very soon, I'll tell you that. Now then, I've already had my garage go out and tow in your car, and I'll make a call now and see when it'll be ready. Might not be till tomorrow if it's the transmission, as I suspect. I'll just go into my office for an hour or so, so if you could do some shopping to kill time, I'd be very happy to drive you back."
"Oh no, Frank, you don't have to do that! I've a small apartment on the far North Side-my father's in the hospital right now, quite ill, but I generally stay there when I'm in Chicago. I don't have a class today, as it turns out. So I can take a cab back home."
"I don't like that. Why don't you let me run you over there when I finish at the office? I'm sure an attractive young woman like you has some shopping to do. Maybe for a pretty new dress or something like that. I'd like to make you a present of it."
"Oh no! that's impossible, Frank. You've been much too kind already."
"I guess I did say the wrong thing, and I suppose it sounded pretty fresh," he apologized. "But I'd like to see you again, Rose. I mean that, very sincerely."
Rose flushed and lowered her lovely eyes. "I'd like to see you again too, if you don't mind my being so forward, Frank."
"Good! Give me your phone number both at the college and at your apartment. Maybe you can have dinner with me Saturday evening? We could go to Jacques, then maybe a show or something?"
"I'd like that very much."
"You're sure I can't give you another lift then when I finish my business?" he urged.
She shook her lovely head. "I'll manage fine. It was so wonderful of you to do all of this for me and thank you so much for a lovely lunch. I'll be running along now. And-I'll be waiting to hear from you, Frank."
"You'll hear very soon. I'll confirm our dinner date for Saturday, Rose."
He watched her leave, and his prick got hard again just as if he hadn't even gone to Ellen Heckley's this morning. The way her hips undulated when she walked, the proud poise of her, that lovely head. All of a sudden, his eyes widened as he reflected to himself that a simply incredible idea had leaped into his mind. Suppose, just for the sake of supposition, he were to marry a girl like that and give Marilyn a stepmother. A stepmother only about two years older than his own daughter. It would certainly take some of the wind out of Marilyn's sails.
CHAPTER FOUR
In the week that followed, Frank Foster had not one but two dates with Rose Trenton. As for herself, Rose was finding this attention by the virile, gray-haired business executive extremely flattering-and something more. Up to now, her experience with the opposite sex had been limited to young men of her own age, most of whom were gauche, selfish and blindly lustful, without the ability to woo a woman properly. But Frank Foster appealed to her because of his suaveness, his undeniable manliness and his considerate treatment of her on their dates. Her father, during this same week, had a relapse, and was not expected to live. He'd come back from Paris, quite ill. All of a sudden, Rose Trenton, who had been self-sufficient up to now, thought herself disconsolately alone, and perhaps that was why emotionally she turned to the mature executive with greater interest than might otherwise have occurred.
Up to now also, Frank Foster had told his daughter Marilyn nothing of his having met her former college roommate, because he was relishing the cream of the joke. Only the night before, the second date, Marilyn had been extremely impertinent to the housekeeper, and she hadn't liked the meal that had been prepared for her. Even he had a few mild words of rebuke for his blonde daughter, and when she had flounced off to her room in a huff, he met Mrs. Jerrold's look with a sigh of exasperation and made the remark, "Maybe she really does need some discipline even at this late stage of the game, Mrs. Jerrold. I've been thinking about it, and maybe I'll have something worked out very shortly."
He hadn't yet made up his mind what Marilyn should do this summer. At the moment, she was dating a fellow by the name of Dan Winthers, a twenty-five-year-old college graduate from Northwestern who was a salesman for an engraving company and whom she had met on a recent shopping trip to the Loop. He didn't especially like Dan, for Marilyn had brought him to the house just after his first date with Rose Trenton. Dan had been one of those backslap-ping, booming-voiced cocksure young men whom he heartily detested. Marilyn, however, seemed to be quite infatuated with him, and there was no doubt that the fellow was handsome in a kind of an animal way.
Two weeks from the exact date on which he had met Rose Trenton when her car had broken down, Frank Foster took her to the 95th Floor of the John Hancock building for a gourmet dinner and the incredible view from this the tallest building in all Chicago.
At the end of the dinner, he lit her cigarette and then leaned back and studied her carefully. She was particularly delicious tonight in a blue rayon dress in classic A-line which hugged her enticing body in the most prick hardening way. She had restyled her auburn hair into a piled upsweep which left her dainty ears bare, and she had put on a pair of clip-on amethyst earrings, her birthstone. Once again the scent of her delicate perfume wafted to his nostrils. He stared at her hungrily and longingly, and then finally he said, "Rose, I know it's been pretty short notice, we've only known each other about two weeks, but I want to ask you a rather serious and sincere question."
"Of course, Frank."
"I'm in love with you, Rose. Now don't get the wrong idea. I know I'm old enough to be your father, but what I have in mind is marriage."
"Are you really serious, Frank?"
"I've never been more serious about anything in all my life, and that's the honest truth."
"Frank-I-don't know what to say right off, except I won't say this is so sudden. Even if it is. But the fact is, I really hadn't thought about getting married. I'm getting my certificate, my master's degree, and I was looking forward to teaching this fall."
"You can still do that. I'm sure they can find you an assignment not too far away from home. At least on weekends you could be my wife," he said ardently, giving her a very passionate and meaningful look.
She blushed divinely. "There's only one thing troubling me a little, Frank, to be honest with you."
"What's that, darling?"
"Are you really sure? I mean, it would be very easy to have an affair with you. And-if I'm going to continue with my career-I could do that without marrying you. I'm very fond of you, I'm drawn to you, I'll admit that right off without any shame at all."
"You're an absolute darling, but I just don't want a one-night stand with you, Rose baby. I want you to be my wife. Maybe someday, a few years from now, if we make a go of it, I might even ask you to give me a son."
Now she really did blush, lowering her eyes to her plate, and hastily took a sip of the coffee while she thought things over.
"I know what's bothering you, pet," he broke in. As her startled eyes looking up to question him, he went on, "It's Marilyn, isn't it? You're asking yourself how she might take having a stepmother only a few years older than herself, aren't you?"
She nodded. "That's true. I know I said what I said about her last week as a sort of joke-"
"No you didn't, you meant it," he interrupted.
"And I'm glad you said it. First of all, I happen to agree with you. She's irritated me quite a good deal now that she's home for the summer. And she's going out with a fellow I don't particularly care for. Not only that, she doesn't even bother telling the housekeeper or myself when she's coming back. Didn't you say once that what she needed was a good spanking."
"Yes I did, but-"
"Let me finish, dear." He leaned across the table and took one of her hands in both of his, staring at her passionately. "If I marry you, you will be her stepmother in point of fact as well as name. I mean by that very simply, darling, that if you think she needs a spanking, you have my full authorization to give her one, as hard as she needs and whenever you feel she deserves it. There, does that settle the problem for you? And I sincerely hope it's the only problem that's making you hesitate in answering my proposal, darling."
Rose Trenton's other hand came out now to press against his which held her right hand sweet captive. "If you really want me, Frank-"
"I want you terribly, Rose. Not just to go to bed with you-though I'd be a liar if I didn't admit right here and now that I've been dreaming about that ever since I first saw you standing out there in the street trying to get some help for your broken-down car-but because I think you'd make me a perfect wife. You'd help keep me young, and that's what I need. You're sure that the difference in our ages doesn't matter too much?"
"Oh no! I-as a matter-of-fact, I've always liked older men, I feel more comfortable around them. That was true in college with my instructors, and my father too. The only thing, I'm so afraid that Daddy isn't going to live, and I can't really think about marrying untilwell, you understand, don't you, darling-"
"You sweetheart you!" he gave her hands a squeeze. "Of course I'll wait. But now that you've said yes, I'm going to be planning what we're going to do on our honeymoon. Would you like Mexico or Hawaii or the Bahamas?"
"I've never been to any one of those places, darling. I'll leave it to you to surprise me."
"Let's get out of here before I do something foolish like kissing you in public, baby," he said hoarsely as he beckoned to the waiter for the check . . .
Rose's father died two days later, peacefully and in his sleep. The funeral was the following day, and Frank Foster stood beside his tearful, bereaved fianc',e that afternoon at the cemetery. When the service was over, he said to her gently, "I don't think you ought to be by yourself tonight, darling. Why don't you come home with me? Mrs. Jerrold will put you up, we've plenty of room in our house. Besides, Marilyn is going to be out on a date with that detestable Dan of hers, and so she won't see you until much later."
"I-I'm a little scared, now that it's coming so soon, dear. I mean, she'll just hate me if she finds out that you're going to let me spank her-you do mean that, don't you?"
"I do indeed. In fact, if it weren't for the solemnity of this occasion, I'd even go so far as to wisecrack that I'd love nothing better than to watch you handling that big girl over your lap," he murmured into her dainty ear. Rose Trenton turned scarlet, gave him a long steadfast look, and then squeezed his hand.
"I'm very much in love with you, Frank and I'm going to make you a good wife. And I think I will come home with you. I just couldn't bear staying by myself in that lonely apartment now that Daddy is gone."
Mrs. Jerrold made no secret about the fact that she was delighted at the way things were turning out. She took an instant liking to Rose Trenton, who had complimented her on her cooking and her kitchen, and when she heard that Frank Foster was going to marry this delicious, sensible and mature young woman, she exclaimed almost effusively, "that's the best news I've ever heard, Mr. Foster! I do hope that both of you will be awfully happy and it'll be good for Miss Marilyn too."
"In more ways than one, Mrs. Jerrold," Frank Foster chuckled, giving his beautiful auburn-haired wife-to-be an ardent look. "I just told Rose that when Marilyn is naughty, she has my full permission to take her over her lap and give her a good sound spanking."
"Well, I do declare! I wonder what Miss
Marilyn is going to say to that!" the housekeeper giggled.
"We're not going to tell her until the occasion arises, Mrs. Jerrold. Don't you dare let out a word," he warned her.
"Oh I won't, sir! you can depend on me! Is there anything else you two would like?"
"No, Mrs. Jerrold. Why don't you just tidy up the kitchen quickly and then go off to bed or watch TV or anything else you like. We shan't be needing you the rest of this evening. And I imagine that Marilyn is going to be late coming home. I told her I'd like her back by midnight, but I'm willing to bet it'll be later than that," he said, exchanging a wink with smiling Rose Trenton.
The housekeeper nodded, beamed on the couple, and then hurried off to the kitchen to finish the chores and then went to her room and closed the door.
Half an hour later, Rose Trenton and Frank Foster were alone together in the living room on the couch, and his arms were locked tightly around her and he was kissing her mouth very satisfactorily. Rose clung to him, her eyes closed, her lips giving him back kiss for kiss, and she could already feel by the twitching of her inner thighs that she was very powerfully attracted to this man. Maybe there was a sort of father image, but she couldn't help it if she felt just a little squirmy about going to bed with this poised mature man. In a way, she was glad she had saved her cherry for him, and he was going to find that she was warm and excited and hot to trot once she was all his. She didn't have the least squeamishness or fear or any shame about being everything to him in bed. She had read a lot of books, especially after he had proposed, and she knew what a virile man would like. Only this time, she wouldn't have to jack him off with her hand and handkerchief, she could take it in her soft itching cunt and feel at last the wonderful thrill of being a one-man woman.
Before very much longer, Frank's hand had crept under Rose's skirt and slip, and his forefinger was tickling the insides of her bare legs and pressing against the crotch of her panties to find the soft moistening lips of her cunthole. She moaned softly, clinging to him all the more tightly, her lips crushed to his and now her tongue darted out to entreat him to greater ardor.
"Baby, how I want you!" he panted. "But I want to save it for our wedding night. All right?"
"Oh darling, yes, but if you want me, I wouldn't say no now, I honestly wouldn't, darling. I want you as much as you want me, I do," Rose fervently told him.
Now his left hand moved up to cup one of her firm titties, and his tongue joined hers in a kind of advanced fucking friction, emulating what he meant to do very shortly with his cock inside that soft warm snatch of hers. His forefinger pressed on, delicately rubbing the lips of her cunt through the thin nylon, and Rose began to squirm and moan feverishly as her blood was warmed and all her emotions drawn to the surface. Suddenly she uttered a sobbing cry, clinging to him with all her might, arching herself up so that his finger would pierce the nylon and probe her yearning cunthole.
He broke off the embrace at last, breathing hard. "You're wonderful," he gasped hoarsely. "I can't wait to have you, my darling. When can we be married, next week?"
"Um hmm, whenever you want, and the sooner the better," she breathed.
"Then let's make it next Monday, and we'll go to the Bahamas for about ten days. I'll have Mrs. Herrold keep a close watch over Marilyn and report how she behaves herself while we're gone, darling," Frank Foster told his beautiful auburn-haired fianc'e.
"You mean you aren't going to tell her that I have the right to spank her, darling?"
"Not right away. I think it will be of much greater effect if we wait for the opportunity to present itself when she really has earned one, dear," he told her, now both his hands cupping his titties while his mouth brushed hers and then her eyelids and her nose. "That way, it will be really a shock to her when she finds out what authority you're going to have."
"Well," Rose sighed, "I can see I'm going to have some domestic problems. But I'm just dying to handle them for you, dear, just as I am to handle you. Oh you wonderful strong darling, I know we're suited for each other, you've already made me feel like a very naughty girl putting your finger where you did."
He leaned over and whispered into her ear, "I can't wait to put something else in, baby, so let's behave like a couple of sensible adults till I can get the license and we can have Reverend Forbes marry us, a very quick and quiet ceremony."
Rose Trenton went upstairs to her room, while Frank Foster waited in his armchair. Just as he had guessed, it was about one in the morning when Marilyn finally unlocked and sauntered in. Her lipstick was somewhat smeared, her hair awry, and her dress was rumpled. "Oh, Daddy-I didn't expect to find you up!" she gasped.
"Obviously. Didn't I tell you midnight?"
"I know, but we were having so much fun, Dan and I. We went to a drive-in movie, and then he took me out almost to the Dunes for a snack. It was a wonderful night and we drove out along the lake. Don't be cross Daddy. What did you do tonight?"
"I decided to get married again."
"Oh that's wonderful! Mrs. Heckley, I suppose?"
"Wrong, baby. A young woman by the name of Rose Trenton."
Marilyn's mouth opened but no sound emerged. Her eyes were enormous. Finally she gasped, "Oh no! How in the world did you ever meet her? Oh, you can't be serious, Daddy!"
"I'm very serious. We're going to be married next Tuesday, and then we're going for about ten days to the Bahamas. You'll be here by yourself with Mrs. Jerrold, so I'll expect you to behave. And now you'd better turn in, young lady, as I'm going to do. I've got a full day's work ahead of me."
CHAPTER FIVE
On the same night of the day that they had got married, Frank Foster and his beautiful new virgin bride Rose reached their hotel in Montego Bay, and the virile business executive had room service bring up chicken sandwiches, two bottles of vintage champagne, a pot of strong black coffee, and a double order of French pastry. By then o'clock, Rose blushingly whispered to him as they stood outside on the balcony watching the balmy night and the beautiful view of the long bay beyond, I'll get ready, dearest."
"Don't keep me waiting long, Rose."
"I won't-but you scare me, the way that sounds," she giggled softly then playfully bit his earlobe.
"You're going to pay dearly for that one young lady," he mock-threatened, giving her bottom a playful spank as she hurried off.
In the bathroom, Rose showered quickly, then put on a most provocative black nylon nightie which she herself had bought at Marshall Field's just the day before their wedding. It came down just to her knees, it had no sleeves, and it left nothing to the imagination. The thick dark-red curls of her cunt holes were plainly visible, as were the pouting dark tips of her nipples. She glanced at herself quickly, took the perfume atomizer and sprayed the valley of her bubbies, her armpits, and in the insides of her thighs. Then hastily, turning out the light, she went over to the huge double bed, drew aside the sheets, and got into bed, calling softly, "I'm ready, my darling."
"I won't be long," Frank Foster muttered thickly as he hurried to the bathroom. He too showered and the soft water of the Bahamas felt like a caress, a kind of prelude to his first long-awaited fuck of this delicious dish. He opened the medicine cabinet, took out a packet of safes, and extracted one. And then, naked, his prick already gigantic with desire, he flicked off the light switch and plunged the room into darkness as he made his way to the bed where his bride awaited him.
As he got into bed and turned onto his right side towards Rose, she sinuously squirmed onto her left side to meet him face to face, holding out her arms to him. "Ohh, you're naked, Frank, I'm scared!" she giggled huskily. Her soft right hand traced down a pattern from his chest to his belly, and then she made the daring move of reaching for and grasping his throbbing prick. As her soft fingers closed over it, Frank Foster uttered a groan of delight: "Oh baby, what you do to me! We're going to make a terrific team, I know that right now." His first wife had never shown such initiative.
Her mouth silenced his now, as she moved closer to him, arching herself as a willing sacrificial victim. His other hand moved to one of her bubbies, rubbing the nipple with his palm until it flinted, and until Rose began to gasp with mounting passion. Her soft fingers continued to feel and squeeze and press his prick, until he couldn't bear it any longer. "Hold off a minute, darling, you're driving me wild," he panted. Moving to one side, he hastily adjusted the condom, and then resumed his hold of her. This time his left hand grabbed one of her bottom cheeks, his other hand one of her titties, and their mouths met in fierce merger. Her lips readily opened to his, and their tongues began to exchange the sweet prelude of fucking friction.
"Oh darling, I want you," Rose gasped suddenly as her body shivered voluptuously. She arched to him, and his right hand moved down towards her cunt, thumb and forefinger prying apart the soft and already moist lips of her virgin quim.
"Oh my darling, oh I love you so, oh give it to me!" Rose begged.
Her left arm was around her husband's neck, and her right hand again groped for and found his prick just as he approached her. She made it easy for him, pressing herself forward as she felt his prick enter her hole. When it came up against the hymen, she whispered fiercely, "Don't be afraid, just give it to me, I've wanted to be a woman so long, oh Frank, you don't know how long-and I'm so glad I saved it for you!"
"You sweet little devil!" he panted. The feel of her satiny warmth, the luscious, quivering contours of her titties and ass had just about robbed him of all self-control. He thrust violently, and Rose uttered a stifled groan as she felt her cherry pop. Then he was in her, digging to the balls, and she swiftly flung her right leg over his thigh, to coalesce with him as tightly as she could. Letting go of his prick she tugged her nightie up as far as she could, so that he could feel all of her nakedness against him.
Slowly he began to fuck her. Their mouths were fused together, and his hands were now reaching and finding her squirming ass. Rose moaned with delight to feel a man's fingers holding her there, and when he tried to draw his prick back from her tight cunt, she followed him ardently.
Soon the tension became unbearable. "I can't hold it back much longer, you're so gorgeous, oh Rose, you're so tight and sweet and hot down there, I've got to have you, I'm going to come!" he moaned.
"Help me, lover, make me come too-use your finger against my button," he heard his beautiful young wife gasp out.
And then he knew that he had made the right choice, he had married a woman who was not only intelligent and beautiful but also sensually a perfect and imaginative mate. His right forefinger at once found the nodule of her clitoris, and he began to rub it frantically as he quickened his prick thrusts deep within her twat.
Now he could feel the clamping contractions of her love sheath. He ground his teeth to hold back his spunk, but he knew he couldn't keep that up for much longer. The smell of her, the feel of her, the tightness of her housing his ramrod, all contributed to destroying his resolve.
And then suddenly Rose put her right hand on his ass and began to pinch and slap him, while at the same time she wriggled and ground herself to him, her tongue delving between his lips.
He couldn't hold it back anymore. With a cry, he thrust deeply to the balls for the last time, and felt himself explode. At the same time, his fingers rubbed and pressed and tweaked her love button. And then he heard her utter a sobbing cry of ecstasy: "Oh yes, my darling, I'm coming, I'm coming too. Oh I can feel it too, I'm going to die-oh you sweet darling!"
Her leg shifted, till he could feel her bare calf against his ass. She began to drum a tattoo on his bottom with her leg as her body shuddered and quaked in the throes of hot woman-come.
Marilyn Foster had just got herself a mother who was going to please her father for a long, long time!
CHAPTER SIX
Rose Foster had observed with no little amusement her lovely stepdaughter's reaction to her return to the house with that unexpected status. Frank thrilled beyond measure with the passionate zest which his new young auburn-haired wife had displayed during their honeymoon in the Bahamas, had told Rose on the plane coming back to Chicago, "Now you remember, baby, you've got my okay to take Marilyn to tow whenever it suits you. I usually give her an allowance every week, and as a matter-of-fact, she's supposed to come asking for it around Friday afternoon. So we'll just play it by ear."
The long-legged blonde blushed vividly when Rose and her father entered the house and were welcomed effusively by Mrs. Jerrold. Frank Foster turned to his daughter and calmly said, "Marilyn, honey, go ahead and kiss your new stepmother. I want the two of you to get along together, or else I'll know the reason why."
Marilyn shyly came forward, and her eyes held Rose's for a moment, then lowered as she passively offered her mouth for a kiss. Rose brushed the girl's cheek with her lips almost perfunctorily and then remarked, "You can't expect her to accept me right away, Frank dear. It's going to take a little time before we get used to each other. Of course," she added with a smile, "I know a good deal about your daughter already, thanks to our having roomed together at college."
That evening, after Marilyn had gone up to her room and Frank and Rose had both noted that the girl was sulking just a little bit, he summoned the housekeeper for a full report. Marilyn had been still very untidy about her room, and she had had two dates with Dan, coming home on each occasion well after midnight-because Mrs. Jerrold had gone to sleep about then and the girl hadn't been home at that time.
That night in bed, Rose, wearing her shortie black nylon nightie, lay beside her virile husband, one hand caressing his head, her right hand toying with his swelling prick. "Are you really going to back me up if I want to give Marilyn a spanking, darling?" she asked.
"Just try me and see, baby. And now you better come across, or you'll be the one who get spanked," he muttered thickly as he reached for her. Rose moaned as his expert fingers lofted her nightie, then began to tickle the soft rims of her quim until she felt them moisten and tickle with desire. In a moment, having adjusted the condom, Frank Foster thrust himself deep to the balls inside his young wife's cunt, and Rose promptly forgot about spanking her young stepdaughter in their cataclysmic cohesion . . .
Rose discovered that Frank was quite right about backing her up. On Friday afternoon, Marilyn timidly knocked at the auburn-haired young woman's door, and, upon being told to come in, hesitantly stammered, "Daddy says I'm supposed to ask you for my allowance, Rose."
Rose was combing out her thick auburn hair, intending to make a coronet braid of it around the top of her head. Without looking back at the uneasy blonde beauty, she coldly remarked, "You'll get it tomorrow, Marilyn. I want to have a little talk with you by then anyway."
"What about?" Marilyn demanded, evident hostility creeping into her voice.
"You had better not use that tone, my dear, or you may be very sorry. Are you going to stay in this evening?"
"No, I-I have a date with Dan."
"I see. Well, just you remember to be in by midnight, not a minute later. Otherwise I'll have something even more serious to talk to you about tomorrow when I give you your allowance," Rose declared.
Marilyn hesitated a moment, as if she were going to say something, and then her cheeks turned red and she walked quickly out of the room and closed the door behind her. Rose smiled at herself in the mirror. It was going to be lots of fun taking that long-legged, grownup beauty over her lap and spanking her naked ass!
The thought of this made her and Frank achieve an even more blazing fuck that very night, and this time Rose accommodated his desires by crouching on all fours while he gave it to her dog-fashion, his hands squeezing her panting, velvety titties.
"I have to go into the shop tomorrow, baby, but I'll be back around one in the afternoon," he informed his beautiful wife as they lay side by side sharing a cigarette. "Try not to spank her until after I get back."
"Are you going to watch?" Rose teased, a wicked glint in her lovely eyes.
"Not this first time. But I'll back you up, remember."
* * *
Rose Foster had come to the conclusion that Marilyn, inherently shy and easily thrown off balance whenever she encountered a really serious obstacle, would be very easy to bring under control. It would be delightful to make Marilyn dress in juvenile costumes and be put through her paces like a child. And the thought that the girl's own father had eagerly agreed to Rose's plans made the auburn-haired young beauty all the more eager to commence the new regimen just as quickly as possible.
After she and Frank had fucked that Friday night, she went to the bathroom and then, putting her nightie and robe back on, went out into the hallway. It was about one in the morning, and just then she heard a click of the lock in the door and she knew that Marilyn had come home. With a satisfied smile, she went back to bed, and Frank and she enjoyed a second portion of connubial passion.. . . .
Frank Foster had come back from the Loop, had his lunch downtown there, and was in his room going over some records he had bought back from the office. Rose had dressed herself in a demure brown rayon dress with skirts down just to her knees, beige nylons, her bra and panty girdle, and open-toe pumps. But with her hair in the coronet braid, she looked extremely regal and mature, much more than if she were only about two years older than her stepdaughter.
There was a timid knock on the door and again Rose called, "Come in!
Marilyn entered, her eyes widening a little, as she saw Rose seated there at the boudoir table staring into the mirror. "I-I'm sorry to bother you, but I came for my allowance. You said I could have it," she faltered.
"Where are you going now?" Rose coldly demanded as she turned to face the blushing beauty. She noticed that Marilyn looked exceptionally trim and pretty in a two-piece navy blue suit-skirt combination, tan-colored nylons and black pumps. She was carrying her black leather purse, and she wore a chic blue felt turban. "Why, shopping, Rose," she stammered again, more ill at ease than every.
"Did you ask your father for your allowance?" Rose pursued.
"Yes I did, but he said I should go to you from now on."
"Yes, that's right, I just wanted to check up. By the way, young lady, I heard you came in after one in the morning. Didn't I remind you to be in by twelve and not a minute later?
"Oh-well, yes, I suppose you did, but Dan wanted me to meet some friends of his-"
'That's no excuse at all. Marilyn, when you and I were roommates back in college, I told you then that what you needed was some good discipline."
The long-legged blonde shifted nervously from foot to foot, looked down at the floor, and her face had a sullen expression. Rose was delighted at this reaction; it was exactly what she wanted: "You see, I'm your stepmother now, and as such I have the right to punish you as I see fit."
"Punish me?" Marilyn echoed, her voice rising in a questioning, incredulous note. "What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I told you back in college, Marilyn. What you needed then and what you need now is a good sound spanking, and I'm going to give it to you."
"You what? Now wait a minute!" Marilyn's voice was shaking and low, and a look of indignation congealed her lovely, crimson face. "No you're not, I'm going to ask Daddy about all this nonsense!"
"You just go right ahead and do that, young lady."
"Well, I will!" Marilyn turned on her heel, opened the door and slammed it shut as she hurried off to her father, knocking at the door of his study. Rose lit a cigarette and waited, serenely confident of what was going to happen.
Sure enough, in about three minutes, a very crestfallen Marilyn returned, first timidly knocking at the door and then opening the knob slowly and entering. She looked flushed, shocked, and totally shaken. She swallowed hard and looked at Rose with consternation. 'I see you've seen your father," Rose said in a calm, imperious voice. "All right, you'll get your allowance. But first you have to go across my knee for your spanking, Marilyn."
"Ohh-oh no-oh I beg of you!"
"I think I shall give it to you in your father's bedroom. Come along, young lady!" Rose commanded, as, rising from the boudoir table, she grasped Marilyn's right elbow and led the startled, horrified young beauty out of the room and down the hall into the larger master bedroom. As she marched the horrified beauty along, she said, again the same tone of deliberate calm, "That was very insolent of you to go appealing to your father. I told you that he had given me the right to discipline you, so now you've found out. In the future, I hope that all such matters can be settled privately between us. I am now completely in charge of you, Marilyn, so I advise you to think very seriously about your future conduct."
They had reached the bedroom, and Rose pushed Marilyn in. Then she closed the door and turned towards the consternated beauty.
"Oh-oh please don't-please-just give me one more chance-I'll behave-I won't stay out late again, not ever-oh but you can't spank me-I'm too old for that-oh Rose, this is awful-please, please have a heart!" she implored, tears shining in her widened eyes.
"Absolutely not. Close the door and lock it tightly, now, young lady."
"Oh Rose, no-I beg of you-I'll do anything-please, please give me another chance!" Marilyn wailed, clasping her hands as if in prayer. These girlish appeals were exquisite to Rose Foster, but she had already hardened her heart and determined to carry out the sensually domineering program she had already conceived for the blonde pampered young beauty.
"I certainly hope that I shan't have to call your father to help me give you your first spanking, Marilyn," she finally said, again adopting that same deliberately poised manner and tone of voice.
Marilyn shook her head, and tears began to run down her cheeks. "Oh please don't-oh please! I'll do anything-just give me another chance-just this once-oh you don't know how dreadful this is!"
"Out of the question. You have no choice but to make up your mind to take your well deserved punishment and get it over with, Marilyn." With this, Rose moved over to her husband's dressing table and sat down in a straight-backed chair. She had already laid out in advance on the dressing table an oval-shaped black wooden hairbrush. Turning the chair to face the door and the confused, embarrassed and now trembling blonde young beauty, she ordered, "Come over here to me, young lady."
Marilyn uttered a groan. She waited a moment, and then reluctantly approached, head hanging, taking very short little steps.
"All right now. Roll up your skirt and slip!"
"Oh no-oh please don't-oh I beg of you-"
"You heard me. Do what I told you to!" Rose said briskly. With a groan, Marilyn stooped, caught up the trim navy blue skirt and white rayon slip, revealing a trim white latex girdle that held up her stockings. Rose was somewhat surprised, but then thought better of it; Marilyn, despite her youth, had a magnificent posterior, spacious and well developed, and doubtless she was wearing this girdle in an effort to take down some of her avoirdupois.
She sat calmly and silently for a moment, watching her shamefaced stepdaughter stand there with her outer garments held up so ridiculously above her waist.
"Move closer to me at the right," she then commanded. "I'm going to prepare you for your spanking."
"Oh no-oh you can't mean it-oh I beg of you, Rose, please-oh no-" Marilyn began to sob. "Oh please, I'll be a good girl-I won't every go out again late, honest-don't you dare-oh if you do, I'll never forgive you, Rose, I swear I won't-oh dear-oh what are you doing
"I'm preparing you for the spanking, that's what. Now hold still! Do you want me to call your father in to help?"
"Ohh noooo!! " Marilyn wailed in consternation. Rose had begun to unhook the garters of the girdle, and was amused to see Marilyn's sheer stockings begin to sag limply down those slim milk-white legs. She had always remarked to herself what a dazzlingly soft white skin Marilyn had, quite unusual in blondes. Now she took hold of the hems of the girdle and tugged at it, and Marilyn uttered another cry and almost dropped her skirt and slip.
"Keep holding them well up, and don't forget it," Rose sternly admonished. She then proceeded to yank the girdle down to Marilyn's knees.
"Oh I beg of you, I'll be so good-oh please don't-I won't forgive you-oh how can you do this to me, you're not much older than I am, why are you treating me like a baby-oh this is dreadful-oh Rose, I'm begging you, I'll go down on my knees to you, oh please don't do this to me!" Marilyn begin to sob pitifully.
But Rose ignored these charmingly ingenuous entreaties. Hooking her fingers inside the waistband of the little panties, she yanked them down to Marilyn's lower thighs. Instantly, the tall blonde lowered her skirt and slip part-way to protect her modesty.
"I told you to keep them up above your waist, and I meant it! Now let me see you pull them well up, young lady," Rose scolded the sobbing young beauty.
With another heartrending groan, Marilyn again raised her skirt and slip, revealing all her girlish charms. And Rose's eyes fixed on the rather thick and surprisingly brown-tinted curls that fringed the dainty virgin cunthole, then scanned Marilyn's tearstained, scarlet face to observe the trembling lips and the flickering nostrils which proclaimed her younger stepdaughter's supreme humiliation.
For a full moment, Rose compelled the unhappy beauty to remain in that shameful, self-exposing pose. Then she patted her knees as a signal for Marilyn to get over it. Blushing furiously, and now subbing aloud with her own mortification, Marilyn awkwardly began to lower herself over Rose's lap. "You're letting your skirt and slip fall down, young lady," Rose said calmly, "Now pull them well up, over that naughty bottom of yours!"
"Oh, oh Rose, how-how can you do a thing like this to me-oh it's awful-oh my God!" Marilyn sobbed wildly, but nonetheless, in spite of her distress, she tugged her skirt and slip to her waist. Rose contemplated the magnificent white-skinned ass proffered for the first time in all Marilyn's twenty-one years to the humiliating ceremonial of spanking. Her bottom was really superb. The upstandingly rounded cheeks were full, spacious and wonderfully firm, with the crease narrow between them, broadening just at the base. What most enchanted Rose was the whiteness of her victim's skin, quite unusual in a blonde. And despite Marilyn's tallness, Rose found that it was not at all uncomfortable to hold her in this demeaning position.
From the low, choking sobs which Marilyn emitted, Rose knew that she felt agonizingly mortified, lying there with her bg naked behind upturned and exposed to a young woman hardly more than two years older than herself. Rose waited for a few moments to allow the effect to sink in even more fully. Then, autocratically, she pulled the skirt and slip up almost to Marilyn's armpits, then draped her left arm and hand around the soft flesh of the younger woman's lower back. Marilyn began to sob, and she shuddered involuntarily.
"Thank you," Rose said in a quiet tone, "for cooperating so well. It's my sincere hope that you're really going to get some good out of this spanking. You've been very naughty as long as I've known you, young lady, and this is a long overdue."
With this, she reached for the oval-shaped black wooden hairbrush, and tightened her grip of Marilyn's waist. Spanking Marilyn was even more interesting than she had anticipated. Her victim had really delightfully contoured hips. As the hairbrush began to descend very briskly but not too harshly at the outside, Rose was amazed at how quickly the flat smooth back of the implement turned the white skin a rosy pink as the spanks were spread all around the plump, firm ass-cheeks.
Since Marilyn had never had even so much had a hand slap, this was a revelation to her. She began to scream and to cry out, squirming frantically and kicking her long legs as much as her lowered girdle and panties allowed.
"Oh don't-owww-it hurts so-oh Rose, I hate you for this-I'll never forgive you-ahrrr-oh I can't stand it, please-oh stop it, you're killing me-ahrrrrowwwouuuu!! ! I'll be good, oh please, give me another chance, don't do this to me, I want to die of shame-owww!" she wailed stridently. By the time Rose had reached the thirtieth spank, Marilyn was kicking and twisting about so wildly that Rose at last paused and said in a stern voice, "I hope I won't have to call your father in to help hold you down for the rest of your spanking, young lady!" Marilyn turned her tearstained, scarlet face back over her shoulder towards her beautiful auburn-haired executioner: "Oh don't-oh please stop-oh it hurts just something awful I can't-I just can't stand anymore, oh please, R-Rose, I won't every be out late again, I promise, only for heaven's sake, please let met off, it hurts so, oh it hurts!"
Her choking sobs and the huskiness of her voice entranced the beautiful auburn-haired bride of Frank Foster. She was beginning to find a curious sexual delight in chastising this delicious younger girl. And yet it seem perfectly natural to hold authority over the relatively submissive blonde, so she scoldingly remarked, "You silly thing, a girl shouldn't carry on so during a mere spanking! I'm sure your father can hear every time you yell! Now I haven't even finished yet, so just get ready for what you've had coming all this time!"
And with this, she lifted the hairbrush and brought it down with a noisy Smackk! Again Marilyn's hips bucked and weaved, and she tried to kick her-legs. However, in spite of her distress, she managed to remain fairly well in position for the reminder of the spanking, though each time the hairbrush fell the lovely blonde sobbed constantly and cried out shrilly, her hips jerking convulsively as the hairbrush made impact with her reddening ass.
Rose had lost count of how many times she had applied the hairbrush to that voluptuous behind. But when she finally stopped, Marilyn's luscious round bottom-cheeks were a flaming scarlet and she was whimpering and sobbing like a baby. She reached over and put the hairbrush back down, and Marilyn lay over her lap for several more moments, weeping as if her heart would break.
"All right, you may go to your room now. And when you come back downstairs after you fix yourself up, I'll give you your allowance," Rose Foster decreed.
Slowly, wincing and groaning, Marilyn raised herself from her young stepmother's lap. She hastily tugged up her panties, but slipped off the girdle entirely-picked it up-with another groan of pain at the waves of burning heat which it cost her to make that squatting pose for a moment-and then hobbled out of the room, her skirt and slip tumbling down, rumpled and mussed around her shaking thighs.
Rose heard Marilyn's door slam, and then she thought she could hear a fit of tears as undoubtedly Marilyn had flung herself on her bed and given vent to all the pain and shame of this mortifying first-time spanking.
Quickly, Rose Foster rose and tiptoed out of her room, and went down the stairs to the study where Frank Foster was working. As she went, she began to pull up her rayon dress and slip, so that only her filmy white nylon bra and panties covered her. With a gentle tap on the door, she went ahead and entered. Then she locked the door behind her and advanced towards the desk.
"Your heard?" she huskily whispered.
"I certainly did! You were wonderful! That poor little devil, what it must have cost her to take that spanking from you! I didn't know you had such a masterful personality, Rose baby." He rose, and she could see that his prick was savagely rampant against the fly of his slacks.
"I need you," she panted, hurrying to him. He understood, tugging down his zipper and releasing his rigid prong. With a moan, Rose slipped out of her panties and, winding her arms around him, kissed him hard on the mouth, her tongue searching like a dagger between his lips. He could feel his prickhead pulsate as it probed for the soft moist twitching petals of her cunthole, slipped between them, and Rose uttered a long-drawn groan of delight as she found herself impaled to his balls. Then wildly, without restraint, she began to jerk and twist and grind herself as he fucked her, murmuring words she didn't know that she had really known, until the world was blotted out with an earthquake of shattering magnitude, and they both sank down panting on the rug, spent with spending . . .
About an hour and a half later, Rose was in the living room, quite composed and reading the newspaper, when Marilyn slowly came down the stairs, still wearing her navy-blue skirt, which Rose observed was rather mussed from being rolled up around her waist. Her eyes were red from crying, and she was blushing violently, casting down her gaze without daring to look at Rose. She looked much more distressed than angry, and it was hard for Rose to keep back her smile at this charming denouement.
"Here's your allowance, young lady," Rose said as she reached for her purse.
Marilyn approached, took it, and mumbled a faint, "Th-thank you."
"You aren't going out shopping like that?" Rose now demanded.
"Oh no-I-I'll dress-I-I just wanted to get my allowance. Th-thank you. Can I-can I go now?"
"Yes of course."
As Marilyn began the ascent of the stairway up to her room, Rose looked up after her stepdaughter. Now her smile broadened, for the girl was hobbling, and from time to time would stop on the stairway and put one hand behind her and furtively rub her bottom.
When Marilyn had disappeared, Rose went back to the study and asked him, "Did Marilyn say anything to you about the spanking?"
"You bet she did!" he chuckled. "She really made a protest to me, and she said you didn't have any right to do that, that you weren't any older than she was, not really. I told her I thought that you had given her just what she needed and I didn't want to hear another word about it."
"You darling!" Rose murmured passionately, putting her hand out and squeezing his prick through his fly.
"I hope you're going to continue the good work," he said hoarsely as he put his hands on her lovely ass and began to squeeze, his mouth brushing hers.
"I certainly am. I've got a little program for that young lady. I'm going to make her feel like a naughty child all the time until she really snaps out of it and starts being a grownup for a change," Rose promised.
"How about seconds, baby, huh?" Frank Foster panted.
"I never say no to my husband, dearest," Rose giggled.
And she sighed and closed her eyes and shivered as her virile mature husband now lofted her skirt and slip, tugged her panties down, while her own fingers liberated his pricks for a return engagement.
This time it was even more thrilling than before, since the edge of each was off. But they still finally rolled over and over on the floor as they consummated their ecstasy!
CHAPTER SEVEN
That next Sunday evening, at dinner which Mrs. Jerrold cooked and served, Marilyn sat at the table with downcast eyes and crimson face, gasping and from time to time calling out, "Oh, no, oh don't, please!" as she sat listening with growing consternation to the system which her young step-mother and her father were proposing to initiate for her benefit.
"Now before you say anything more, young lady," Frank Foster warned, shaking a forefinger at the scarlet-faced, young long-legged blonde, "just let me say once again and for the last time that I am fully in support of your stepmother's actions. You may therefore regard these orders from her as coming from myself also, young lady. Now go ahead, Rose dear."
"Very well. Marilyn, from now on, whenever you go out even by yourself to a movie or to a girlfriend's house, you are to come back by ll:30, not a minute later, is that understood?" the auburn-haired dominatress declared.
"Oh my goodness-Daddy, I'm not a child-"
"You are so long as you continue to break rules and live to suit just yourself," her father irritatedly interrupted. "Now you just pay attention and listen. Go on, Rose, please."
"Thank you, Frank darling." Rose favored her virile, gray-haired husband with an adoring look. Then, her face once again stern, she looked across the table at her horrified ex-roommate and continued: "Moreover, you shan't be allowed to leave the house without my express permission. Something else again, too. From now on, you are going to call me Mother and you're going to treat me with the respect a girl shows her stepmother even if there is only a very slight difference in our ages. Is all that clearly understood, Marilyn?"
Marilyn rolled her lovely blue eyes heavenward and uttered a deep, self-pitying sigh as if to indicate that she was being martyred.
"I asked you a question, young lady!" Rose snapped. "Do you, or don't you understand what I just told you?"
"Y-yes," Marilyn miserably faltered.
"Yes, what?" the auburn-haired beauty persisted.
"Yes, M-M-Mother," Marilyn groaned, squirming uneasily in her chair.
"That's better. See you don't forget it. And now, about your clothes. I know that you don't like miniskirts because you are quite long-legged. However, I like miniskirts because they make a girl look younger and since you're still behaving like a very immature child-as is evident by the way you are fidgeting around and twisting your fingers in your lap-I see no reason why you shouldn't wear clothes appropriate to your emotional age," Rose Foster continued. She glanced at her husband, and saw an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, Daddy, do I have to? This is awful! I'm twenty-one, I'm of age, and she's treating me like a child!" Marilyn burst out, tears glistening in her widened blue eyes.
"You fail to see the point again, young lady," was his answer. "Of course she's treating you like a child because that's the way you've been behaving. I told you, I go along with her, so get that rebellious look off your face and listen very carefully."
"Oh, dear!" Marilyn groaned again.
"Very well now. Tomorrow, young lady, I'm going to go downtown and buy you a new wardrobe," Rose decided. "All your skirts are going to be at least four inches from the knees. And I'm also going to get you a special punishment dress when you misbehave. Whenever you are to be punished for a very serious fault, you're going to have to put it on and report to me. Is that clearly understood?"
"Yes-oh, Daddy, this is just dreadful!" again Marilyn appealed to her father.
"I know it's drastic, Marilyn, but maybe it's just the lesson you need. Now stop complaining all the time and just make up your mind that you're going to do what your stepmother says," he concluded the discussion.
And so the next morning Rose drove into town and spent several hours at Marshall Field's, returning home with several boxes. When she had opened them and sorted them out, she called Marilyn into her bedroom, and showed her what she had bought.
"Now hang these up very neatly on hangers in your closet, young lady. I don't want to see any of them on the floor, or I'll want to know the reason why. And here's your punishment dress," Rose declared. She held up a specially made white cotton dress with short puffed sleeves and pleated skirt, its hem ending about three inches below Marilyn's hips. She had taken Marilyn's measurements just before the latter had gone to bed last night, and Marilyn was scarlet-faced when she stared at the suggestively short skirt. "Oh my goodness-you mean I have to wear that-when I-when I get punished?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
"Oh hell!" Marilyn thoughtlessly ejaculated, stamping her foot.
"Well now, I see you've already earned it. Now you take that dress, go to your room and put it on and then report back to me. By the way, leave on your nylon stockings and your high-heeled pumps. And this evening, you're going to wear it to dinner so your father can see it," Rose pronounced sentence. "Ohhh-"
"If you prefer," she said acidly, "I can always give you a good sound spanking now and then tell your father why, and you'll still wear the punishment dress, is that clear?" Once again Marilyn was conquered by Rose's superior force of will and authority. Lowering her eyes, turning crimson with mortification, she mumbled a "Y-yes, M-Mother," took the punishment dress and walked slowly to her room.
A few minutes later, she came in, her eyes studying the floor and her hands clasped in front of her. She was absolutely delicious. This tall long-legged blonde, with her voluptuous body, was wearing an abbreviated dress, her tan-colored nylon hose showing very high on her lovely long thighs. And Rose knew perfectly well that when she sat down, the tops of the stockings and even the white patches of bare skin above and the supporters of her girdle or garter belt would be constantly in view.
"That's very good. Now you're going to wear that until after dinner. You may go back to your room for the time being," Rose said.
"Oh, Rose, why are you so cruel to me? Why do you hate me so?" Marilyn burst out.
"You are to call me Mother, remember? I'm not cruel to you, I'm just starting a little late in your life beginning the discipline you ought to have had about the time you lost your poor mother, and even before that. Now no more talk, you may leave!"
And once again blonde Marilyn was defeated.
That evening, Marilyn had the atrociously embarrassing experience of appearing before her father in the highly suggestive punishment dress, and it was obvious that she was terribly embarrassed and red-faced throughout the evening meal. When at last the meal was over and she had asked in a low trembling voice for permission to go back to her room and been granted it, Frank looked at his beautiful wife and said, "It's a terrific idea. Now, are you going to go as far as making her wear it when she gets punished if there happen to be visitors or strangers or friends in the house?"
"I don't really think so. I think Marilyn would just about die of shame if she ever had to get spanked in front of, say, one of your friends, Frank darling," was Rose's opinion. "We can hold it over her head as a threat. If there's something really serious or very grave about her naughtiness, then we can always use it as a sort of supreme punishment."
"Good idea. So then we'll just keep it for ourselves."
"Right. Do you like my ideas, lover?"
"I like everything about you, you sweet bitch," he muttered as he got up from the table and went round to stand behind her chair, run his hands down to her titties and squeeze them, then bend his head to give her a stinging kiss on the back of the neck. "Let's go to bed especially early tonight. I want to give you at least two good hard fuckings, you lovely red-haired piece of quim."
"You make me sound just wicked, an old man's concubine," she teased.
"That ought to cost your pretty bottom a sound spanking itself," he chuckled hoarsely as he lifted her from the chair, cupping her bubbies and making her walk ahead of him, so that she could feel his prick prodding against her ass.
They didn't stay up very much longer after that. About an hour and a half later, both naked in bed, lying on their sides facing each other, Frank Foster was kissing his wife hard, his left hand gripping the back of her neck while his right hand was rising and falling stingingly and briskly as he spanked her voluptuous naked ass. And since his prick was digging deeply into her at the time, this spank-fucking made Rose even more wildly passionate. They each had to kiss each other hard to keep from yelling aloud lest Marilyn might overhear and guess what was going on.. . .
In the week ahead, Marilyn believed that she was living in a nightmare. She didn't like the idea, although she was afraid to rebel, now that she knew her father was on Rose's side. Also, there were times when she simply forgot to learn the new rules. But she was about to learn, alas, that no matter how she pleaded or promised or protested or argued, she wouldn't avoid punishment when she had it coming.
Rose had talked it over with Frank and they had both come to the conclusion that for minor or unintentional mistakes, she would just wear the punishment dress or stand in the corner or perhaps just apologize. But for anything else, there would be a spanking, something Marilyn just dreaded. And Marilyn also learned that Rose wouldn't hesitate to take her across her knee anytime she thought that she deserved it . . . and also and worse of all, that though she was grown up, all spankings were to be given on the naked ass. Yes, Marilyn Foster was soon to learn that the humiliations of a bare-assed spanking can be nearly as bad as the spanking itself!
As for herself, Rose began to find a certain sexual excitement in being the dominatress-stepmother of this beautiful young woman, whose tallness and magnificent contours made young men look at her with lustful eyes wherever she went. When Rose thought to herself that this siren, as the boys undoubtedly thought she was, was still subject to going over her lap with skirts up and panties down to be spanked on her naked ass until she cried and pleaded like a baby, it sent a sensation of exquisite lascivious power through her . . . and that was translated into bed at night with Frank, because Frank was beginning to react to this spanking regime with the zest of a man who was just learning to find out about pussy. He confessed the next Friday evening, as he and Rose had just finished one of their most exciting fucks (she on top and he reclining with his head pillowed on his arms), "Baby, I don't know what it is, but just thinking about what you do to my gorgeous grownup daughter gets me horny. Do you think maybe that secretly a headshrinker would accuse me of being 'in lust' with my own daughter?"
"It's very possible, darling. I don't think there's a man living with a grown daughter who hasn't had subconsciously or one way or another, a yen to fuck her," Rose whispered teasingly, her tongue gliding down his throat to his chest and rubbing against his nipples.
"You little bitch!" he panted, raising his hand and slapping her ass until she squirmed and giggled playfully. "Well, maybe that's true. In fact, I'm getting to the point where I'm dying to watch you spank that lovely blonde kid of mine. I never thought I'd feel so young and randy, since marrying you, Rose. You're quite a gal, you're a grown up woman and mature, more than Marilyn will ever be, and yet you're so young it just drives me crazy wanting to keep up with you and wanting to hold you so you won't look for another man."
"Oh lover," Rose giggled, "as long as you can fuck like this, I don't need any other man. Oh Daddy, it's getting hard again, let's go!"
Sure enough, it was; limp though his cock had been, its sojourn in her warm tight cunt had revived it, and now Rose could feel it hardening inside her sheath. Delightedly, she began to jog up and down, her bubbies dancing and jiggling, while he reached up his hands to squeeze and caress them, finally pulling her down to him and squashing her bubbies against his chest as he felt himself arch to her and drive hard into her cunthole.. . .
It was Wednesday evening, the second week in August. Since her first hairbrush spanking, Marilyn had had to wear the punishment dress twice, once to stand in the corner and repent her sins for using an unlady-like expression and forgetting to call Rose "Mother" but the second time only last Thursday night in order to report to Rose's bedroom for another humiliating bare-assed hairbrush spanking which had her kicking and squealing and almost rolling off Rose's lap, imploring for mercy and promising tearfully to do just about anything in the world if only Rose wouldn't spank her anymore.
The doorbell rang, and Rose got up from her armchair in the living room, calling to her husband that she was going to get it. As she opened the door, she exclaimed with delight, "Lucille Edwards, why, what a lovely surprise! Do come in, dear!"
A handsome, modishly dressed sandy-haired young woman of about twenty-four, entered, saw Frank Foster rise from the couch, and said to Rose with a lovely smile, "Oh my, so this is your nice husband?"
"That's right, Lucille. Frank dear, this is Lucille Edwards. She and I went to Williams together. I thought you were going to be a teacher too, Lucille?"
"Well, so I was, until I met Jack. And now I wouldn't go back to school for all the money in the world," the attractive blonde matron vouchsafed.
"Let me get you some coffee and some of the cookies Mrs. Jerrold baked this afternoon," Rose volunteered.
"That's awfully nice. I can't stay too long, because my hubby's going to pick me up in about forty-five minutes. We have to drive out to Skokie and see one of his insurance prospects-you know, he's doing awfully well as an underwriter," Lucille boasted.
"I'm so glad to hear it, darling! I'll be back in a jiffy-oh, here's Marilyn! Marilyn, this is Lucille Edwards, a college chum of mine," Rose said as Marilyn suddenly entered the room, then stopped short, put her hand to her mouth and turned scarlet with embarrassment.
The attractive visitor had sat at the other end of the couch, drawing off her gloves, and was staring at Marilyn's extremely short brown minidress. And since Marilyn was wearing her favorite tan-colored nylons, the effect was to show off at least four inches of delectably contoured thigh. Self-consciously, Marilyn smoothed her skirt with her hands, as if wanting to pull it down to her knees.
"How-how do you do?" she stammered, very ill at ease.
"I'm glad you came in, Marilyn dear," Rose continued. "You can save me a trip. Would you heat up some coffee for us all and bring that plate of cinnamon cookies Mrs. Jerrold baked this afternoon?"
"All r-right-" Marilyn stammered, and turned to go.
"All right, what"! " that last word cut like a whiplash, and Marilyn shivered, turned back, with agonizingly appealing eyes. "All r-r-right, M-Mother," she finished in a dying voice.
Then, biting her lips to keep from bursting into tears then and there, she hurried out of the room.
"Well, I never!" the amazed Lucille Edwards gasped. "Your daughter can't be much younger than that beautiful wife of yours, Mr. Foster-isn't that right?"
"That's quite right, Mrs. Edwards," Frank Foster chuckled, thumping at his cigarette and winking at auburn-haired Rose.
"And yet-and yet you make her call you Mother?" the astonished sandy-haired young matron pursued.
"I certainly do. Not only that, if she forgets to do it once too often, she gets punished," Rose contributed in a matter-of-fact voice.
Rose and Frank had already discussed the hypothetical possibility that some visitor or friend, hearing Marilyn act and speak so decorously in Rose's presence, might actually come to the point of asking what sort of punishment it took to make a college graduate of over twenty-one humble herself so. And they both agreed that Marilyn would not be required to explain just how she was punished-although they both laughingly agreed also that Marilyn's face would be extremely red if such a question were proposed to her.
Following up their original conversation in bed, Rose and Frank had also agreed that Marilyn was never to be given any assurance that the details of her punishment wouldn't be discussed with strangers or that she wouldn't be spanked in front of them. Indeed, both of them had told her on separate occasions already that these things could happen if her behavior ever warranted it. Both of them understood that the humiliation which such action would entail would be a powerful deterrent to misbehavior and would guarantee Marilyn's cooperation with the new system of conduct installed for her benefit.
In a few minutes, Marilyn returned with a tray of cookies and cups of coffee and was asked to serve. When she bent towards Lucille Edwards, the sandy-haired blonde matron giggled and said, "You really look adorable, Marilyn. You've got gorgeous legs. I might even say you're almost as attractive as your mother."
A stifled groan came from the lovely blonde, who glanced agonizingly at Rose as if to beg for some sort of intervention. But Rose pretended not to look, lighting a cigarette and leaning back to give Frank a wink across the room.
Then, after having served all three, she was allowed to take some cookies and a cup of coffee back to a chair and to sit there primly. It was agony for poor Marilyn. She kept surreptitiously trying to pull her short skirt down, and of course she couldn't. And from time to time she found the amused young matron looking at her and smiling, which only made her blush the more violently and wish herself able to turn invisible.
Finally the blare of a car horn was heard outside, and Lucille Edwards got up to go. "I'd love to come again," she hinted. "I just can't get over seeing your daughter like this, Rose honey."
"Feel free to come anytime," Frank Foster affably boomed, as he walked the attractive matron to the door and opened it for her. "Good night."
Marilyn rose, trembling visibly. "Oh, Daddy," she burst out, "this is so humiliating for me! My goodness, I graduated from college and I'm over twenty-one now, are you always going to keep treating me like this?"
"As long as you burst out emotionally just the way you did now, the answer is yes. Now do you want to stay up and watch television with us or do you want to go to your room?" Frank Foster tersely demanded.
Marilyn took a deep breath, bit her lips, and then mumbled that she wanted to be excused. A moment later, she was hurrying up the stairs, and Rose could see the exquisite glimpse of bare white upper thigh above the stocking tops, thanks to the short miniskirt which was now part of Marilyn's regular costume.. . .
Lucille Edwards kept her promise, and it was a disastrous experience for poor Marilyn when she did, the following Friday afternoon. The night before, Marilyn had once again implored her father to spare her this humiliation and let her go back to her regular clothing and also to date her boyfriend Dan. Both Rose and Frank had been adamant on the subject, and Marilyn was forbidden to see Dan, because Frank had been doing some private investigating on his own and discovered that Dan was quite a philanderer and was, indeed, carrying on with a divorcee whose reputation was far from savory.
There were some hot-tempered words, and Marilyn very nearly earned herself a spanking then and there, for it was only after a mumbled apology and a stammered, "M-Mother, I-I'm sorry I said that," that both Frank and Rose allowed the penitent blonde beauty to go to her room without having to turn up her naked ass for the hairbrush.
At four o'clock the very next afternoon, when the doorbell rang, Marilyn was wearing another in the series of juvenile costumes which Rose had planned for her, one that was particularly humiliating to the long-legged beauty. It composed a little white blouse with hardly any sleeves at all, a short, flared brown skirt that allowed four inches above the knees to be visible, smoke-colored nylons and white skimmers. Finally, Marilyn had been ordered to Rose's room where the latter combed out the helmet-style coiffure and tied a big blue ribbon to a gathered sheaf at the back of Marilyn's neck.
Never before had Marilyn looked more sexy, and even her father felt, much to his own dismay, that his prick was starting to harden at the sight of those luscious, supple calves in smoke-hued nylons, rippling and flexing, and those lovely long thighs almost half-exposed in the sheer, gauzy stockings, as Marilyn walked about the room. The young woman's face was flaming with mortification, and she kept her eyes downcast, and it was obvious also that there were a few tears glinting in her blue eyes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When the doorbell rang, it was Marilyn who answered it, since she was nearest. It was to her dismay to discover none other than Lucille Edwards.
"Oh, hi, Marilyn; my gracious, what a cute little outfit you've got on! May I come in?"
"Y-Yes, s-sure, Mrs. Edwards," Marilyn mumbled as she held the door open wider for the young matron to enter.
"Good to see you again, Mrs. Edwards," Frank Foster got up from his chair. He had been taking the last few afternoons off because two of his top men were on vacation and there wouldn't be much business activity until towards the end of next week. Besides, he found himself more and more wanting to be home with luscious auburn-haired Rose, because he had never before in all his life known a more passionate and willing sex partner. Often Rose would creep into his room at dawn, and he would wake up to find her mouth delicately sucking his prickhead and urging him to a hard-on so that he could start the day right. Or again, during "nap time," he would come to her room and there they would twist and wriggle and kiss, their fingers exploring each other's body, as they fucked.
"Thank you, Mr. Foster. My gracious, isn't Marilyn cute today!" Lucille Edwards giggled.
Marilyn's face grew redder and redder, and with a soft groan she looked imploringly at both her parents. They studiously ignored her, and urged Lucille Edwards to make herself comfortable. Once again Marilyn was sent for refreshments, and Mrs. Jerrold quickly supplied a tray which Marilyn brought out to the guest.
After Lucille Edwards had accepted a cup of coffee and a piece of Mrs. Jerrold's rich German Crunch cake, she looked back and smiled. "Isn't that a new outfit?"
"Yes, it is, Lucille," Rose volunteered. "You see, Marilyn was a naughty girl last night, so she's wearing this as a kind of penance."
"Oh, M-Mother, please don't!" Marilyn groaned, twisting her long slim fingers frantically in front of her, her eyes huge and humid with oncoming tears.
"Well now, Marilyn, you mean to say a big girl like you is still naughty?" Lucille Edwards amusedly remarked as she stared with mountingly piqued curiosity at the suggestively clad beauty. "Whatever did you do? And is that all the punishment you got, wearing that outfit?"
"Ohhh!" Marilyn groaned. "Answer her, dear," Rose said serenely. "I-I was impertinent last night," Marilyn mumbled.
"I see. And did you get your mouth washed out with soap, too, darling?" Lucille Edwards couldn't help teasing.
But it was the last straw for poor Marilyn. With a cry of mingled rage and shame, she stamped her pretty foot and angrily walked out of the room.
Rose exchanged a startled glance with her husband. Then she rose, momentarily tempted to reconsider her policy of not spanking Marilyn's bare bottom in front of her former college chum.
She went quickly down the hall and found Marilyn in the kitchen, sitting at the table, her face buried in her hands.
As she entered, Marilyn looked up, uttering a gasp of fear: "Oh, M-Mother-please-oh my Lord, you-you aren't going to sp-sp-spank me now in front of her, are you, Mother? Oh please don't, please!"
Rose pondered a moment. Then she decided to relent. "No, not this time. But the very next time you pull a stunt like that, young lady, I don't care about your modesty or your embarrassment or anything else, you're going to lie over my lap on the couch, and Lucille or anybody else who comes here is going to watch me pull your skirt and slip up and take your panties down and give you the hairbrush on your bare behind, is that understood?"
"Y-yes, M-Mother," Marilyn blinked back her tears and mumbled.
"I think now that an apology is in order, don't you?"
Once again Marilyn nodded. Slowly she rose from the table, and, her head hanging in shame, accompanied Rose back to the living room. Rose moved aside and let Marilyn approach the amused young matron. Her face scarlet to her earlobes and throat, Marilyn stammered, "I-I'm awfully sorry I-I lost my temper in front of you, Mrs. Edwards. I-I didn't mean to-I really didn't. I-my-my-my M-Mother is going-is going to punish me for it later. I'm awfully sorry."
"Thank you for telling me," Lucille Edwards smiled. Then, turning to Rose, she said softly, "Well, darling, it's obvious that you've got not only your husband but your lovely stepdaughter under full control."
"Thank you, Lucille. Now let's enjoy our coffee and cake without an, further comments. Marilyn, if you will please sit down, and let's try to entertain our guest, shall we?" Rose said quietly as she sent the scarlet-faced, tearful blonde culprit a meaningful glance.. . .
It was a long agonizing hour before Lucille Edwards finally thanked her host and hostess for their hospitality, promised to come again soon, and left the Foster house. Frank Foster cleared his throat, glanced at Rose and commented, "I think I'll go to my study and get some work done, baby."
"That'll be fine, Frank. If you'll do me a favor, and stop and see Mrs. Jerrold in the kitchen and tell her that we'll have dinner about seven-thirty-if that's all right with you?" Rose added.
"Perfectly all right. After that cake and coffee, I'll need a couple of hours to recuperate. Mustn't put on a corporation ahead of me, even if I'm the head of a corporation," her virile husband chuckled as he patted his belly. Then, with a knowing wink, he left the room.
Marilyn, sitting in her straight-backed chair, fidgeting more than ever, both hands trying again and almost ludicrously to smooth and pull down the all too short skirt, looked up frantically at the auburn-haired young woman. "Are you-are you going to-are you going to sp-spank me?" she quavered.
"My, what a silly girl you are to ask such an obvious question!" Rose Foster laughed softly.
Marilyn slowly rose from her chair, took a deep breath, then, with a gulp, stammered, "Could I-I mean-would you-would you-would you get it over with right away, please?"
Rose smiled. Marilyn was beginning to learn humility and obedience. One of the rules she had laid down was that Marilyn had to wear the punishment dress for at least two hours before any spanking. Rose pretended to think over the question, while Marilyn stood there, twisting her fingers anxiously and biting her lips. The auburn-haired beauty knew that the suspense was part of the humiliation and anguish which her luscious young stepdaughter had to suffer. Finally she said in a crisp, domineering voice that brooked no refusal or argument, "Very well. Put on your punishment dress and go bring me the hairbrush. You remember, the last time I spanked you with it, I left it in your room." This was an obvious reminder, and it was said just to dig the needle into poor Marilyn's anguished psyche. With a sob that was almost one of relief, Marilyn stammered, quickly, "Yes, M-Mother, r-right away!" and disappeared.
A few minutes later she returned, clad in the skimpy white dress which had been freshly laundered and pressed. As was obligatory, she had kept on her smoke-colored nylons which ended well below the hem of her short skirt and left bare thighs and the supporters of her garter-belt in full view as she walked. She had also remembered to change from her skimmers to a pair of black leather pumps with three and a half-inch heels. Rose had stipulated that regular-length nylon hose and high heel pumps were to be an essential part of the costume, otherwise the short skirt would lose much of its humiliating effect on this tall beauty.
Rose glanced upwards, and could see that Marilyn's high-perched, closely spaced, big firm round titties were jiggling, proving that she had also remembered to remove her bra. Marilyn had a magnificent thirty-six-inch bust of which she was quite proud and at the same time quite self-conscious. Another of the many rules which Rose had set forth when she took over Marilyn's disciplining was that if the latter was to wear the punishment dress for a minor offense, she might keep her bra on. But if a spanking was to be in order, she had to take off her bra beforehand and might not put it back on without special permission.
When Marilyn had stammeringly and blushingly asked the reason for this edict some weeks ago, Rose had haughtily explained, "Bras are for big girls, not for little girls who still get spankings." That answer had taken the wind out of the lovely long-legged blonde's sails, and she had almost started to cry at the shame of it. Once or twice, already, indeed, when she had left her bra on, she had had to endure the added mortification of removing her dress and standing there shamefacedly while Rose personally removed the bra for her. Although this punishment dress was not transparent, the jiggling effect and the jouncing of her bubbies whenever she walked, forced Marilyn to show that she was wearing no bra and of course told her father exactly what was going on!
This time Rose had gone into her own bedroom, but in order to intensify her stepdaughter's humiliation, she planned to give Marilyn her spanking in Frank's bedroom. As Marilyn entered, Rose noticed that she was holding the hairbrush, and that she was pale and apprehensive as she walked slowly over to her. Meekly she handed Rose the hairbrush and stood in front of her, her eyes lowered.
Already the auburn-haired beauty had become a voluptuary, a true dominatress, partly out of instinct and partly out of her natural sensuality in which her husband had fully abetted her. Rose knew perfectly well that the purpose in making Marilyn wait for correction was to give her time to think about it and assume the proper penitential attitude, but in this instance she felt that the rule could be waived because it was very obvious that the anguished blonde culprit was extremely contrite and very anxious to atone for her fit of tantrums in front of Lucille Edwards.
"All right, we can get it over at once," she finally pronounced.
"Th-th-thank you, M-Mother," Marilyn gasped, her face brightening just a little.
Rose now rose from the chair, took the hairbrush from Marilyn's limp hand, transferred it to her right hand, and then with her left hand, seized the young woman's right wrist and led her down the hall to her father's bedroom. Marilyn went along quietly, her head hanging, her pretty lips trembling. As much as she hated and dreaded a spanking, she had already learned that the best thing to do was to go along quietly and get it over with as little fuss as possible. Nonetheless, she couldn't help giving Rose imploring, yearning looks which were intensely appealing, silent and eloquent pleas to be left off. Rose of course saw these, but pretended not to see them.
In the large bedroom, Rose led the contrite culprit over to Frank Foster's dressing table, sitting down with her back to the table and placing the hairbrush within easy reach. Marilyn obediently and docilely stood at her right side and next to her. Rose looked up at Marilyn and then nodded.
Biting her lips again and taking a deep breath, the tall young blonde seized the hem of her short skirt and held it up to her waist, revealing trim white nylon panties over a garter-belt. Rose had instilled in Marilyn the habit of holding her punishment dress up this way while she was being prepared for the spanking, and the complete exposure was intensely humiliating for a young beauty of her age; as before, Marilyn was already shamefaced at this stage of the procedure.
Rose felt her own pussy moistening and tingling, and she realized that she had become addicted to this lovely game. It inflamed her, because she knew that after she had spanked Marilyn to tearful submission and docility, she was going to go right to Frank's study and get herself royally screwed. And so she was in no hurry to take down her stepdaughter's panties. Very slowly she put her fingers inside the elastic waistband and began to work it downwards. Marilyn uttered a little "Ohh, M-Mother!" and her face turned a violent scarlet as she watched herself being exposed. Yes, she was being punished as a little girl, but as the panties descended, it was obvious that she was quite grownup. They slithered down to the beginning of the pubic thatch, and then past her virgin cunt, snowing the thick curls. Marilyn closed her eyes and compressed her mouth so as to hold back her groans and sobs. Finally Rose, having prolonged this exquisite ritual all she could, gave the panties a yank and allowed them to slip down her long legs to the girl's ankles.
"All right, Marilyn, get over my lap," was the next order. But even as Marilyn quickly started to drape herself across her stepmother's lap, Rose helped her position herself so that the girl's blonde head was nearly touching the floor and her bare hips and ass were sticking up higher than the rest of her lovely body. The tight garter belt and smoke-colored nylons outlined the exposed spanking area in the most lascivious way. Despite Marilyn's agitation, she modestly kept her legs pressed tightly together in order to hide the view of her virgin slit. Rose now reached over to her right towards the table and picked up the hairbrush, noticing with a smile of satisfaction that Marilyn was anxiously peering over her left shoulder and that her eyes were widening with anguish as she saw the dread instrument now in the hand of her beautiful and relentless executioner.
Slowly Rose curved her left arm round the supple, soft, bare white-skinned waist, and when her palm pressed against Marilyn's quivering belly, her stepdaughter uttered a gasp of frantic confusion: "Ohh-oohhh-oh, M-Mother!" and stiffened herself even more. Rose's eyes contemplated the shrinking, huddling, juttingly rounded hemispheres of that magnificent virgin ass, observing how the skin was twitching and palpitating, how the muscles were rippling and tightening as poor Marilyn desperately tried not only to diminish the size of the spanking place but also to keep her most intimate parts hidden from her stepmother's gaze.
Finally, her own sensuality mounting high now, Rose began the spanking with a few light taps with the brush. First the brush came down on the right cheek and then the left. Marilyn gasped and tried to hold still as the repeated spanks turned the firm, quaking ass-cheeks a light pink. Rose paused a moment, shifted her grip on the squirming and uneasy half-nude blonde captive, and then began smacking the brush lightly down Marilyn's thighs to the tops of the stockings, turning the white flesh the same shade of pink, by now, although a little breathless, Marilyn had managed to hold fairly still during the preliminary "warming-up."
Again Rose paused, and again she shifted her arm and tightened her grip of that supple and now perspiration-moistened waist. Once again Marilyn feverishly glanced back over her shoulder, her blue eyes very widely dilated and blurred with tears, her red lips trembling piteously. Then Rose began to repeat the cycle, but this time with slightly harder spanks. Although Marilyn tried to control herself, her gasps were quite audible and her body began to stiffen each time the hairbrush made its crisp impact on the naked, quivering cheeks of her beautiful, condemned ass.
After this cycle had been concluded, Marilyn's bottom globes and her upper thighs were a vivid shade of pink, and Rose decided that the time had come for the really severe part of the spanking. After all, Marilyn's conduct in front of Lucille Edwards had really been disgraceful, and it was only out of consideration for Marilyn's modesty that she had refrained from giving the girl this spanking right in front of her former college chum. By way of compensation, she decided that Marilyn should have a really good sound thrashing.
Pausing a full minute while poor Marilyn shifted herself, her palms on the floor and glanced back nervously once or twice as if to hope that perhaps it might be over, Rose took a firmer hold on the brush, lifted it, and resumed again. This time, the spanks fell with the full sweep of her arm. It took about two of these before Marilyn began to help and dissolve in tears, and then she squirmed and started to plead frantically during the rest of her spanking: "Awrrr-ohh, M-Mother-oh please, not so hard-I'll be good-I didn't mean to do it in front of Mrs. Edwards-eeyeowwww! ! !-I'll never do it again-I promise-oh please, please let up, M-Mother! I'll be a good girl, I didn't mean it, oh please let up, you're killing me-oh my poor bottom-oh Mother, not there on the same place so much-oh have mercy, I can't stand it, oh M-M-Mother, I'll be goodoohhhouuu!! "
Her long legs kicked up and down, her pointed pump toes beating into the carpet as the hairbrush warmed the entire area from her garter belt down to her stocking tops.
Rose, her left arm pitilessly vising her stepdaughter's waist, didn't count the spanks at all-she never did. But she simply raised and lowered the brush until Marilyn's naked ass was a fiery red and until she was certain that Marilyn had learned her lesson.
She let the girl wriggle and lie and kick over her lap and cry out for at least five minutes. Then, putting away the hairbrush, she reached down and pulled up the little white panties. "All right, Marilyn, I've finished. I hope you've learned never to do anything like that again," she said coldly.
"Oh yes-oh, M-Mother-I-I won't ever-oh how it hurts-oh Mother!"
"Get up now, you big baby! And don't forget, you have to keep your punishment dress on for the rest of the day."
Slowly, wincing and groaning, Marilyn got to her feet. And then she did something else which Rose had taught her to do, thank her for the spanking. "Th-thank you for sp-spanking me and getting it over with right away, Mother," she sobbed.
"You're quite welcome."
"May I-may I put my bra back on, please, Mother?"
Rose pondered this a moment, then shook her head. Marilyn looked a little disappointed, but she wisely did not pursue the subject.
Having to face her father in the dining room that evening was an ordeal for poor Marilyn. She had never quite gotten use to the idea, even though this was now her third spanking. She was intensely self-conscious about the absence of her bra and she blushed violently in his presence. Since Rose had spanked her down to her stockings, the backs of her legs were visibly red and bare below the hem of her dress, and Marilyn was intensely embarrassed when she noticed that her father's eyes were roving over her legs as she sat to his left.
He wondered just what she would have thought if she had known that after she had gone to her room to cry it out, Rose had hurried to his study, locked the door, tugged off all her clothes except her garter belt and hose, then gone down on her knees, crawled under the study desk where he was sitting, pulled down his zipper, taken out his prick and began to tongue him until he groaned and told her to stop or else he'd give her a thrashing she'd never forget. Then, he'd made her crawl out around with her bottom towards him, and he'd knelt down and fucked her dog fashion. It was one of the most delirious and exciting rogerings he and Rose had ever had. And as they lay there on the floor, sharing a cigarette, he muttered, "You've got my permission to keep on spanking Marilyn until she gets married and leaves this house, baby. But I've just got to watch the next one, because hearing that hairbrush come down on her bare tail and hearing her yelps and those cute little beggings-off of hers just about make me want to jack off."
"Why, Frank Foster, you lecherous old man you! I'm not so sure I ought to let you watch Marilyn getting it, dear," Rose teased as she wriggled downwards and put her mouth to his prick and began to stroke his inner thighs. "You might want to fuck her like this or else make her do this to you-do you like it, darling?"
"You lovely bitch, you're driving me crazy! Of course I like it! I think dinner's going to be a little late tonight, baby. I just can't get enough of you! Now get on top and do the work, you've just about honked me out with that last lick of yours!" he pantingly ordered.
Rose giggled as she crawled over her husband, found his upright prick aiming at her pussy, and impaled herself, sinking down until her bubbies mashed against his manly chest. His hands gripped the cheeks of her ass, and began to squeeze in tempo with his diggings, while she profited from his signals to arch up and down and so speed them both onwards toward paradise.. . .
CHAPTER NINE
In his almost overnight passion for auburn-haired Rose Trenton, Frank Foster had forgotten about his beautiful mature mistress, Ellen Heckley. But she hadn't forgotten him, and as the weeks went by without a call, the sandy-haired, buxom Ellen became worried about her lover. So it was that towards the last few days of August, she decided to drive by and see what was happening to him.
When she rang the doorbell, she was startled when a beautiful, exquisitely dressed auburn-haired young woman opened the door and smiled questioningly at her: "How do you do. Is there someone you wished to see?"
"Why yes, I'm looking for Mr. Foster."
It was a Saturday, and so it was logical to expect Frank to be home from his office in the Loop. But it so happened that he wasn't. Marilyn had come to him last night and begged him to her get a job so that she wouldn't be home all the time. He understood perfectly well what her real reason was; she didn't want to be around every day and run the risk of getting her lovely behind hairbrush-spanked by her young stepmother. However, since her conduct had really improved a great deal since Rose had undertaken disciplining her, he didn't embarrass his daughter by remarking on it. So he had taken her downtown to see one or two friends who he knew would be working on Saturday and who might just need a pretty receptionist or file clerk.
"Oh, I'm afraid he's downtown," Rose Foster consequently answered. "But won't you come in? I don't believe I know you."
"My name is Ellen Heckley. I'm a very good friend of Frank's," the sandy-haired matron explained as she entered the house."
"I see. I'm Mrs. Foster. Rose Foster."
Ellen Heckley uttered a cry, stepped back, and put her hand to her mouth. "You-you--but surely-you really mean it?" she finally gasped.
"I'm afraid I do," Rose smiled warmly. "We've only been married a little over a month."
"I-I see. That explains why he doesn't-" Ellen Heckley hastened to break off her sentence before betraying in front of this unknowing young woman what she had really been to Frank Foster. But Rose, who after all had got a teacher's certificate to teach psychology, put two and two together very quickly.
"I'm so sorry. Can I get you a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of Mrs. Jerrold's chocolate cake?" she anxiously offered.
"I-I think I could stand an awfully strong cup of coffee, Mrs. Foster," Ellen Heckley sat down, with a stunned look.
Rose hurried to the kitchen and came back with a tray on which were two plates of cake and two cups and saucers. She served her guest, without appearing to be unusually concerned about the slip she had just detected. But very tactfully, as she saw that Ellen Heckley was beginning to recover her color and her poise, she asked in a casual tone, "Had you known him very long, Mrs. Heckley?"
"About a year. In fact-well, I may as well be honest with you, Mrs. Foster. I-I hoped he'd marry me. Oh dear, that must sound just dreadful to you-"
"Not at all. We met quite unexpectedly. What happened was, my car broke down when I was going to see a friend in Skokie, and he came along and helped me out a lot. Then we had lunch together and-well, it happened."
"You went out to Skokie," Ellen Heckley mused aloud. "Oh my goodness, if that isn't the most ironic thing-I'll bet it was that same day he came to see me and the said he couldn't stay long because he had a downtown luncheon appointment-my goodness, that must have been you, Mrs. Foster."
"Yes it was." Quickly Rose explained the circumstances, and Ellen Heckley shook her head: "That's really an ironic coincidence, I'd say. Well, you're certainly very nice to me-"
"I don't think either of us has anything to hide, Mrs. Heckley. Of course I love Frank very much, you understand. I don't think I'd like to lose him, though certainly you're a very nice woman and if I had to lose him, I shouldn't mind if it were you," Rose sweetly explained.
Ellen Heckley sighed. As it happened, a widower by the name of Evan Haightman, about thirty-five and an attorney, had visited her last week to discuss the sale of some property which had been left her, and he had seemed quite interested in her. He was a bluff, hearty man, and Ellen Heckley had warmed to him. Of course she had been loyal to Frank, thinking all along that he was going to pop the question.
So, after taking another sip of coffee, she finally remarked, "Well, it's just as well I found it out this way. I can see now why Frank forget to call me and tell me about it. You're so very beautiful, Mrs. Foster."
"Why, thank you very much!"
"I wanted to ask you one thing, though. How does Marilyn take the idea of having a stepmother who certainly can't be very much older-you'll pardon me if I seem to pry?"
"You're not prying. I'm going to be twenty-four in a few months. And its true that Marilyn isn't very happy about it, especially since I've started disciplining her and teaching her to treat me as if I were her mother," Rose calmly answered.
"You mean-oh surely you're joking! That grownup young lady-disciplining her at her age?" Ellen Heckley gasped.
"I'm afraid it's true. I think it would embarrass Marilyn if you were to ask her, but if you did, she'd have to give you a truthful answer. I spank her, Mrs. Heckley. On the bare bottom and with a hairbrush. And when she's naughty, I make her put on a special punishment dress with a very short skirt just to remind her that she's still acting like a child and can expected to be treated like one so long as she continues,"
"Well, I never!" Then Ellen Heckley began to giggle, then to laugh, and soon both women were laughing and being more closely drawn to each other than they could have been in any other way.
"Well, Mrs. Foster, you don't know what a weight it is off my mind to have taken the bull by the horn, so to speak, and come here. You-you can tell Frank I wish you both well, and especially your crusade against Marilyn. I think I can safely say that I found her very pampered at the time, but I guess I was in love with Frank and I didn't feel it was my place to do anything about that."
"I understand. Thank you so much for your good wishes."
"Well, there's a very handsome lawyer who has shown interest in me, and I think maybe I had better take advantage of his availability.
I'm sure you'll feel more relieved-but I promise you, whatever happened with Frank happened before he met you."
"I know that, Mrs. Heckley. Good luck, and do keep in touch."
And that was how Frank Foster unwittingly lost his mistress, because the very next week, lovely Ellen Heckley shyly invited the attorney to her house after he had taken her to dinner and then a show, and then about a half an hour later, she was sighing with bliss as, stripped down to her bra and panty girdle and stockings, he was making love to her in a suave and deliberate way that thrilled her to her very core.. . .
"Have a good day, darling?" Frank Foster took Rose into his arms and kissed her hungrily on the mouth, his hands roaming down her back to find her juicy, firm bottom-cheeks which he squeezed lovingly as Rose slyly began to rub her cunt against his crotch until she could feel his response.
"A lovely day, lover," she purred, "I had a very unexpected meeting with a perfectly gorgeous woman. You really have good taste, Frank honey."
"Now what's that suppose to mean, baby?" he chuckled, letting her go and stepping back to stare wonderingly at her lovely face.
"Ellen came to pay you a visit," Rose said in a casual voice.
Frank Foster gasped, flushed, and put his hand to his forehead. "Oh, brother! Well, you don't have to worry about Ellen. I was going with her until I met you."
"I know that. That's why I'm not the least bit jealous. I said, I think you have very nice taste. Of course that includes me, doesn't it, lover?"
"Baby, does it ever! So what did she want?"
"It seems she hadn't heard from you, dear, and you hadn't remembered to tell her that you were getting out of circulation. That's all. But I got the feeling that she's found herself another boyfriend. Some lawyer or something like that."
"I see. Well, that's good, then. Yes, I guess I did forget to tell Ellen. I think she expected that we'd get married one day, and I'll admit I was beginning to think of marrying her if only to give Marilyn a mother. But you've taken over so wonderfully that I don't have to worry about that anymore, do I?"
"I don't think so."
"Are you going to let me watch you spank my lovely daughter the next time she has it coming, Rose baby?"
"Yes, I think I will. Of course, I won't let her know. I don't think that would be fair. You're just a dirty, lecherous old man and you know it, Frank Foster."
"Now so old that I can't take care of you, Rose sweetheart. Any complaints so far?"
"None at all. Only I think we ought to look around and find Marilyn a potential husband one of these days."
"Why do you say that, baby? Matter of fact, I'm a little worried that she hadn't been exposed to boys too much, now that we've just about made her give up that young hoodlum Dan."
They walked over to the living room couch, sat down and Frank took Rose in his arms, his hands cupping her titties as their lips met. Her tongue flicked out and he groaned with delight.
"Well, since I'm a woman too and I know pretty much what makes Marilyn tick, I've got a hunch that the naughty girl is starting to feel the pangs of growing up. And since she isn't getting it from a boy because obviously she knows we won't allow her to go out with Dan and I don't think that there are any other boyfriends on the scene, I've got a hunch she's satisfying herself," Rose said calmly.
"Hey now-what are you getting at, you red-haired, slinky little slave trainer?"
"Well, let's face it, Marilyn is a big girl, past twenty-one now, you know. And when a girl doesn't have a man handy or isn't sleeping with another girl, and only by herself, it's very logical and almost inescapable that she probably uses her finger or else rubs herself against the bed to get her cookies," his auburn-haired wife murmured huskily as her arms linked round his shoulders and her tantalizing red mouth brushed his with the promise of sweet delight in bed that night.
"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, taking time out for a long and very passionate kiss, his left hand squeezing one of Rose's titties, his other hand working down to the front of her skirt and disappearing under it until his forefinger reached the crotch of her white nylon panties.
"Oooooh, lover, that tickles so nice! You keep that up and you're going to get pussy ahead of schedule," Rose gasped, squirming and pressing herself to him as she hugged him very tightly.
"Do you think it's up to me to give our little girl a lecture on the birds and the bees and the flowers, then?" he hoarsely asked.
"Oh no, Frank honey! Let Mama take care of it. You see, this morning, after Marilyn went out, I made up her bed and I saw a couple of suspicious signs. She had a handkerchief wadded up under her pillow, and there was a wet spot in about the middle of the bed. That naughty blonde was playing with her pussy, or my name isn't Rose Foster."
"I think I've got our girl a job. One of my business acquaintances, Doug Pryor, told me to go see a fellow by the name of Ben Haroldson. He runs a consumer research bureau and checks out advertising response and that sort of thing. He's got an office at Monroe and Wacker. I called him on the phone, got his answering service, and got his home number. Doug says he's a very energetic and likable fellow, with a growing business and he's always looking for competent help."
"That would be lovely! I think it will do Marilyn good to have a job and earn her own spending money. By the way, I think I'll give her her allowance this evening after dinner, if that's all right with you, Frank."
"Of course it is."
"And also," his auburn-haired wife slyly added, "I think I'll make her wear the punishment dress for being such a naughty little bitch and getting the hots."
"You mean, you're going to spank her tonight for that?" he gasped.
Rose shook her lovely head. "Not only that, but also because her room is till untidy. She left her pajamas on the floor, near the window on the other side of the bed. She knows better than that. And then, when I am spanking her for that, I'll sort of sneak in my little interrogation about her playing with her cute little virgin pussy. I'm going to spank her in her bedroom, and as you know, there's a big closet in there with a door that doesn't quite close tightly. You could be in there, Frank, and watch-if you want to."
"If I want to!" he gasped, hugging her tightly and running his hands down to her ass again which he squeezed lovingly, "You've got me so horny just thinking about it and with this little teasing of yours that I've got to have you right now. Let's go to bed."
"Let's!" Rose avidly agreed. They rose from the couch, arms about each other's waists, and in a few minutes they were in Frank Foster's bedroom, the door safely locked behind them. Rose hastily pulled off her dress and slip, reached behind to unhook her bra and let it fall to the floor and then slithered out of her white nylon panties, standing before him in only a white satin-elastic garter belt whose tabs clung lovingly to the tops of her very sheer off-black hose, and her sandals. The coronet braid around the top of her head made her look exquisitely patrician and authoritative. But his eyes feasted on the darkening, stiffening tips of her bubbies, which rose and fell exuberantly, and on the thick dark-red curls which fleeced her torrid cunt-hole. Hastily he husked off his clothes, standing in just his socks, his prick enormous and throbbing as he moved toward her. Rose swiftly went down on her knees, her fingers digging into his sinewy ass, bobbed her head and her lips just brushed the tip of his prong. His hands cupped the side of her face, as he groaned aloud in his delight: "You sweet bitch, you're going to outlive me, and you're going to be gorgeous even when I'm an old man in my sixties. What a way to go! But don't lose it that way, I want to feel myself inside of you, feel that nice tight warm little box of your grinding my balls to ashes!"
"I want you in me too, dearest," Rose seductively murmured. Her lips continued to brush the tip of his prick, and then she leaned forward, putting out her pink tongue and running it from the circumcisional groove down to his scrotum and back, repeating the maneuver on the other side of his shaft till he closed his eyes and ground his teeth to hold back the savage onrush of pent-up jism.
"What time are you going to spank our girl?" he breathed.
"About nine o'clock. Right after dinner, just as we're getting up, I'll tell Marilyn to go put on her punishment dress. When she asks why, I'll tell her about the pajamas and also the bed. I've asked her not to toss and tumble the sheets and the covers till they're an ungodly mess, but they were very bad this morning. That's reason enough, don't you think?"
"You have a devilish mind, my darling! And I'm certainly glad your car broke down that day. I don't think Ellen, not even on her happiest day, would have been able to manage Marilyn the way you're doing, baby. And now let's cut out this chatter and get down to some serious fucking. I feel especially randy right now, and you're going to pay for it."
"Brrrrr!" she pretended to shiver with fear. "What a way to go! I'm all yours, lover. By the way, I think we ought to give Mrs. Jerrold a nice two-week vacation with pay, don't you?"
"Might as well. She's earned it. And certainly she doesn't have as much responsibility now, seeing as how you've taken Marilyn under your wing."
"Under my hairbrush, you mean," Rose giggled. Now her tongue was creeping over his balls, and it was all Frank Foster could do to keep from bursting. His hands gripped her bare shoulders, and then suddenly he stopped down and caught her by her titties and made her get up and press her lovely creamy-skinned body tightly up against his, his prick bent back and lying between their grinding bellies as his fingers pinched and squeezed the firm plump and elastic cheeks of her voluptuous ass. Their lips met again, and this time both of their tongues went questing. They began to moan and squirm, as Rose's fingers kneaded his ass in turn, as her passions mounted.
"I've got to have you right now," he groaned at last.
"Wait, lover, let's do it this way, I've always wanted to try it," Rose breathed, breaking away from him and hurrying over to the bed. Once there, she laid herself over the edge near the foot of the bed, stretching her arms back behind her, her feet planted on the floor and straddled. The edge of the bed came up to her chinkbone, so that her bottom was just free of the bed, and she began to weave and squirm it in the most lascivious way. "This is the position of extreme flexion, lover," she whispered huskily to him as he came toward her, his eyes blazing, his prick bobbing with every step. "I read about it in a book, you're suppose to be able to touch bottom and scrape the sides this way. Go ahead and give it to me!"
"Will I ever, you gorgeous redhead!" he muttered.
Coming between her legs, he leaned forward, planting his palms on either side of her shoulders, and bent his head down so that his lips could crush hers. Rose sighed happily, arching her cunt up to him, and she felt it nuzzle against her groin, then rub against the tangled, thick, soft dark-red curls of her twat. "Ooooooh! Mmmmmmmmmm!! " she moaned as he began to tantalize her by prodding all over her soft cunt with the tip of his instrument. "That's heaven-oh you devil, teasing a poor girl like that! Poor Marilyn, this is just what she needs!"
"From me?" he gasped.
"I'll bet you'd love to fuck her, Frank. Of course I won't let you. That's why we've got to find her a man pretty soon, and I mean a husband. I've got the feeling that when you watch her being spanked tonight, you're going to want to fuck the hell out of me anyhow. And if I weren't around, you might even do it to Marilyn and then you'd go to jail, lover. And I couldn't have that, because then I'd have those empty-bed blues," she teased.
Stiffening himself, his mouth now feasting on one of her nipples which he took between his lips and sucked and nibbled at, flicking it with his tongue until he could feel it throb and stiffen and hear his beautiful young wife groan aloud with joy, Frank Foster at last pressed his cockhead in between the soft palpitating lips of Rose's quim.
"Ohh, is that ever good!" Take it slow and easy, rub me good, get my little button with that wonderful big cock of yours, Frank lover!" she encouraged.
"Lke this?" he panted as he shoved himself slowly forward until he was hilted in her to the very balls.
"Ohhhhhahhhhh!! Oh yes, oh my darling, oh how good it is! Fuck me now, oh just give it to me, screw me, cuke me, roger me good and hard, I need it so!" she exhorted.
The stress on his muscles was painful, but the tight grip of her warm cunt was ecstasy. Deliberately he held himself back as he drew slowly out to the very brink of her cunt, held himself suspended there a moment at the portals and then pressed home again to the very balls. Rose sobbed, her face turning from side to side, her fingers reaching back to claw at the sheets and her eyes rolling with delight.
Now he thrust at an angle, and she uttered a squeal as the side of his shaft rubbed against her turgidifying clitoris: "Ahhh, ohh, yes, oh dear, oh darling, that's it, that the sense of this place, that's my little button-oh rub it good, I want to come so bad I can almost taste it!" she moaned.
"like this?" he gasped, drawing all the way back, and then angling in very slowly till once again he was imbedded inside of her.
Rose uttered a cry of joy, and swung up her beautiful stockinged legs to wrap them round his hips, as her face turned this way and that, flushed and perspiring, her eyes enormous and humid. He began to fuck her slowly and vigorously, with long deep thrusts that seemed to go deeper than he had ever done before. He could feel the clamping womb walls around his digging tool, and he knew he couldn't keep it up very much longer because the friction was driving him crazy.
Now he put his hands on her bottom and began to squeeze the cheeks, and then suddenly edged his forefinger against the dainty puckering pink lips of her bumhole, just nudging inside.
"Ahhhh, oh that's wonderful, oh darling, give it to me, oh don't spare me, oh give it to me good!" Rose wailed, twisting and shifting her legs frantically over his hips.
Slowly his finger dug into the very hilt, following his prick in the other orifice. Then he began a steady cadence, double fucking her energetically. Rose sobbed, groaned, lifted her face, her eyes starry with approaching bliss. Then suddenly she shrieked out, "Oh God, do it, give it to me, I'm going to come, oh Frank! Ohhhhh Frank!! "
At the same moment, the final dig, he felt himself explode, and sank forward over her on the bed as his mouth hungrily merged with hers.. . .
CHAPTER TEN
Marilyn Foster had just finished her cup of coffee and was about to get up from the table when auburn-haired Rose calmly remarked, "Marilyn, go put on your punishment dress and then go up to your room. "I'll see you at nine o'clock, young lady."
The long-legged blonde offered a gasp of consternation, put her hand to her mouth, then turned a most becoming scarlet. "M-motherbut why? What did I do now?"
Seeing her father's eyes on her, the provocative tall young beauty turned even redder than ever. Then she tried to appeal to him: "Daddy, I've tried to be awfully good, you know I have. What did I do now?"
"Marilyn," Rose said patiently, "as I told you several times before and you ought to know it by heart now, your father had turned over all authority over you to me. When I tell you to put on the punishment dress, young lady, I mean it. Just for that, you're going to get a few extras tonight. But if you want to know the reason, it's because I found your room extremely untidy again, after all the lectures you've had about it. Your pajamas were flung on the floor. I suppose you think I'm a maid to clean up after you?"
"Oh, n-no, M-Mother!" Marilyn quavered, her lips trembling pitiably and her beautiful sky-blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.
"Very well. I see that you realize your faults and understand why you have to wear the punishment dress. Now go upstairs and put it on and wait for me until nine," Rose concluded peremptorily.
Frank glanced questionably at his beautiful dominatress-wife How the hell was he going to get into Marilyn's closet if she was going to stay in her room until spanking time? But Rose had already anticipated his reaction, and just as Marilyn, head hanging, trying to control her sobs, began to leave the dining room, she called after the unhappy culprit, "I've changed my mind, Marilyn."
"Oh, thank you, Mother!" Marilyn whirled, her face brightening, her eyes wide with hope. But that hope was dashed when her young stepmother glacially retorted, "At about five minutes of nine, and I want you to check your alarm clock so you won't be late, young lady, you are to come to my room and ask me for your spanking. Then we will go back to your bedroom where you will get it. Do you understand?"
Once again tears clouded the anguished blue eyes of the tall blonde. She nodded, and forced a choking "Y-yes, M-Mother" from her soft red lips, then turned and fled.
After Frank Foster was sure that she was out of hearing, he shook his head and chuckled: "You had me scared for a minute there, Rose baby. I was just wondering if I was going to have to pull the invisible man act to get into her closet."
"I'll admit I forgot about that for the moment, lover, but it came to me just as she was getting up from the table. I'll keep her in my room for five minutes, so you can go right on ahead and hide yourself. But you had better not let on by any noise or anything that you're in there, or I won't forgive you. The poor darling is going to be upset enough when I give her not only the spanking for being untidy but also find out why that bed was wet and why she kept a moist wadded handkerchief under her pillow," Rose smiled enticingly.
"You are just a wonder, baby! I wish I'd met you years ago."
"So by now you could have seen a lot of spankings, no doubt," she teased him as she rose and went over to him and hugged him and kissed him hard. "Let's go watch television now, lover. Only you'd better keep an eye on your wrist-watch too, so you won't miss the chance to do your naughty Peeping Tom act."
* * *
Frank Foster had watched television for about an hour or so, then hurried up to his room, showered, put on just his bathrobe and sandals, smoked a cigarette and waited impatiently for the fateful moment when his beautiful young daughter would leave her room to go to Rose's to report for her spanking. He heard the door open, a sound that was very much like a sniffle, and knew that Marilyn was on her reluctant way to her appointment with her stepmother and the hairbrush. As soon as he heard his wife's door close after the timid knock upon it and Rose's firm call of "Come in!" he tiptoed out of his room and quickly into his daughter's, went directly to the closet and crouched down and closed the door except for but a crack for which he could comfortably see. The view enabled him to look at the bed, from its right side, and he knew that Rose was going to give Marilyn her spanking there.
Marilyn stood beside the auburn-haired young dominatress who was at her vanity table, contemplating her hairdo in the mirror. Marilyn's hands were at her sides, but her little fists were clenched in obvious apprehension, and her face was quite red. She wore the skimpy white dress whose short puffed sleeves ended at her upper arms, and whose pleated skirt shaped out the excitingly rounded, plump posterior which was about to be warmed in the most painful and humiliating manner. The skirt came to about the base of her bottom and it was obvious from her awkward shifting from high heeled pump to pump that she was in great emotional stress.
Rose took her time observing her own image in the mirror, and then finally turned to her left to look up at the unhappy beauty. Quickly her eyes swept Marilyn's figure, observing that, as was customary, Marilyn was wearing the proper high heeled pumps and also a pair of smoke-colored nylon hose. Also, the agitated rise and fall of Marilyn's full round bubbies indicated that the blonde culprit was wearing no bra as ordained.
There wasn't any doubt about it, Marilyn Foster was one of the most piquant and enticing pieces of pussy extant, especially when spanking time came around. The ludicrously short skirt of the punishment dress left her thighs bare and the stocking top as well, showing the tabs of her narrow garter belt which held them up.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, young lady, but you just won't learn after all the talks we've had about keeping your room nice and neat."
"I-I'm sorry, M-Mother," Marilyn faintly stammered, keeping her eyes down and not daring to look up at Rose.
"Your father tells me that he might have a job for you next week. Is that so?"
"Y-yes, M-Mother. He says a Mr. Harold-son would like to interview me next week."
"Good! I think a job is just what you need, young lady. But for the moment, you're still a naughty, thoughtless child, and I still have to punish you to help you remember that you are supposed to be a grownup young lady. Do you admit that you were naughty and inconsiderate in throwing your pajamas on the floor?"
"Y-Yes, M-Mother. Please-can we-can we get it over with, please? It's so awful to have to wait in my room so long when I know--ohh, oh dear!" Marilyn's aplomb deserted her, and she burst into soft, choking sobs, putting up one hand to rub her knuckles against her eyes to clear away the tears.
Rose never failed to be amused at her former roommate's anguish and child-like shame whenever spanking time rolled around. But this evening, knowing that Marilyn's father was going to watch from his hiding place and see the girl get her beautiful bottom well warmed, it added a sensual excitement to the ritual, which Rose was in no hurry to terminate. "I trust you haven't a bra on, young lady?" she unnecessarily asked.
"N-no, M-Mother."
"Very good. All right, I think you will have your spanking in your room, Marilyn. Go get the hairbrush off my dresser drawer top, and you can bring it along as we go back to your room now," the auburn-haired imperatrix decreed.
With a very audible sob, the tall blonde walked over to the dresser, picked up the black wooden oval-shaped hairbrush and bit her lips as she waited for Rose to rise and go to the door. Rose had put on a red sateen negligee and her fluffy blue mules, and the caress of that glossy thin fabric on her bare flesh helped arouse her together with the knowledge that her virile husband would be watching what went on.
"Come along now, young lady," she said sternly as she opened the door and let Marilyn go on ahead of her. Head drooping, clutching the hairbrush, sniffling now as if she were about to break down at any moment, the pretty blonde walked down the hallway to her own room. Rose went on ahead of her, opened the door and gestured for her to go in. Then, sitting down on the edge of the bed, she commanded, "Hand me the hairbrush, young lady!"
Meekly, Marilyn walked slowly over to the bed, extended her hand and Rose took the hairbrush. It amused her to sex that Marilyn's eyes were still lowered, and she purposely prolonged Marilyn's waiting another minute or two while the unfortunate culprit squirmed nervously and bit her lip.
"You may prepare!" Rose finally ordained. Marilyn had moved over to Rose's right, and now at this order, grasped the hem of her short skirt and held it up to the waist. Rose observed that the brief white nylon panties alone covered the magnificent ripe, firm ass of her stepdaughter and that the garter belt was just underneath.
"I hope this lesson will be effective," Rose said dryly as she reached for Marilyn's panties, inserted her fingers under the waistband and slowly began to work them down.
"Ohh, M-Mother, will I-how long-"
Marilyn couldn't finish, but burst into tears.
"How long do I intend to go on spanking you, young lady, is that what you were going to ask me?" Rose halted, the panties now midway down, just showing the beginning of the light-brown curls which framed Marilyn's virgin snatch.
When the unhappy beauty nodded, too choked with sobs to be able to speak, Rose retorted, "As long as you need it and as long as you are in this house. And your father agrees with me. Now then, I'm going to give you a good sound spanking." With this, she finished pulling the panties down to Marilyn's knees, rather than letting them fall all the way to the girl's ankles, and then both her hands grasped Marilyn's upper waist." Stretch out on the bed over my lap, now," she admonished.
She had put the hairbrush over to her right side and behind her, and she saw with amusement that Marilyn's tear-blurred big blue eyes were anxiously fixed on the menacing weapon of chastisement.
Marilyn at once pillowed her head in her arms and closed her eyes, then began to cry very softly. She abandoned herself, but kept her long legs clenched tightly together. Calmly Rose shoved the punishment dress almost up to the girl's armpits, then twisted the little panties so that they would act as an effective restraint when Marilyn began to kick-as she certainly was going to do very shortly once the hairbrush began its heinous work.
Then, her left arm tucking Marilyn's waist, she reached for the hairbrush with her right hand and began the spanking.
As in the past, the auburn-haired young dominatress commenced with about twenty light taps, alternating on the cheeks from the tops of Marilyn's hips to the base of her upturned, jut-tingly rounded white-skinned ass. Apart from a few groans and gasps, Marilyn took this part of the spanking very well, not lifting her head. Only an occasional squirming and shivering reaction, and sometime a stifled "Ohh!" escaped her as the flat back of the hairbrush made impact with the jouncy, resilient bare flesh.
Pausing now, Rose readjusted her grip around the penitent's waist, and then resumed the spanking. Now the crisp "Smack!" and "Thwack!" became even more audible, as were Marilyn's gasps and sobs. Her body began to jerk and stiffen each time the hairbrush landed, decorating her squirming naked ass with a brighter pink than before.
Now Rose paused again, contemplating her handiwork. Once again she shifted her arm which curved round the culprit's waist, and Marilyn sobbed and groaned, now looking back, her elbows pressed hard against the bed and her fists clenched, her eyes blurred with tears and very wide. "Oh please, M-Mother, I'll be good, I'll be neater, I promise I will, please don't spank so hard!" she begged.
"You big crybaby, you know perfectly well I haven't even started to give you half your spanking yet," was Rose's answer. "Now stay still and keep in position, young lady."
Then the hairbrush came down with a hard "Thwack!" and at once Marilyn reacted. Both her lovely stockinged legs kicked up, though they were hampered by her twisted, clinging little panties. Her pump shod feet waved in the air, and now she glanced back almost every time the hairbrush rose and fell, emitting a sobbing wail of "Ahrrr I'll be good, oh don't spank so hard, I'll be good, please, Mother!" as Rose continued inexorably.
After about twenty of these vigorously hard spanks, which made a total of sixty, Marilyn was twisting and struggling frantically, sobbing as if her heart would break. Her bottom was a flaming red from her chinkbone down to the base. Rose hadn't touched up the thighs yet. Now pausing, pressing the flat back of the hairbrush over the crease of those plump round ass-cheeks, Rose demanded, "Do you think you can remember to keep your room tidy from now on, young lady?"
"Oooh, boohoo, y-y-yes, M-Mother-I'll be so good-oh please, please, it hurts awfully, oh I can't stand anymore, I just can't, Mother!"
"Very well, young lady. That is your punishment for being untidy. But just stay where you are, because I have something else to discuss with you. Now then, I want the truth!" Rose raised the hairbrush and brought it down with a quick little smack on the upper right thigh of the sobbing blonde culprit.
"Oww! That hurts so!...Oh please, no more, Mother, please no more!" Marilyn wailed.
Rose could see that the slim hands were just dying to plunge back and cover up and protect the owner's flaming ass, but she also knew that Marilyn, understood perfectly well that if she tried such a trick, she would get a good deal of extras.
"Now pay attention and tell me the truth. This morning, when I made up your bed, I noticed that there was a wet spot. Also, you had a handkerchief wadded up and stuffed under your pillow. Now I want to know how you wet your bed. Don't tell me at your age, you naughty girl, you can't control yourself?"
"Ohhh!" Marilyn's face turned a furious scarlet. Then she buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
"I want an explanation, young lady, and quickly! Did you hear me? Did you-did you?" Each time, the hairbrush punctuated the question with a stinging whack which made poor Marilyn's ass bound and twist and squirm frantically, till at last the sobbing beauty committed the unpardonable crime of plunging her hands back to cover up her burning bottom.
"The very idea!" Rose scolded. "Take those naughty hands away at once. Now I want the truth, or I'm going to start all over again, and I'll use the bristled side if I have to!"
"Oh please, M-Mother, I'm so ashamed-please-please try to understand-I didn't-oh
Mother, please!" Marilyn blubbered.
Smack-Thwack-Crack!-the hairbrush rose and fell three stinging, noisy times, right over the crease and pinching the inner edges of those plump ass-cheeks. Marilyn screamed and kicked her legs, once again tried to put her hands back, but this time, Rose caught the struggling wrists in her left hand and pinned them at the small of the girl's back. "That's no answer! Are you going to tell or do I have to use the bristles on your bottom, young lady?"
This time, reversing the brush, she gave a light little tap with the bristled side of the hairbrush right down the sensitive ass crease, and Marilyn gave up.
"Owwahrrr!! Oh don't, not there, not with the bristles, Mother! I'll tell, I'll tell! Oh please, please, I'm so ashamed, I want to die! Please don't sp-sp-spank anymore, I'll tell, M-Mother!" Marilyn wailed.
During this part of the spanking, she had wriggled and twisted herself so frantically over her stepmother's lap that Rose had to pull the girl's body back, abandoning Marilyn's wrists and, her left arm around the settle, moist and satiny bare waist, forcing Marilyn's trembling body back closer to her. "Tell, then!" she warned as she added another light smack with the bristled side in the very same place.
"Owweeeyeoww!! I'll tell, I'm going to tell, only please let up, Mother, oh you're killing me!" Marilyn wailed.
"I-I-I was thinking about D-Dan, and I guess I was-I guess I was sexy-and I couldn't help it, honest I couldn't-you won't let me date or anything, and I'm over twenty-one and I ought to-I ought to have a fellow-"
"Yes you ought. But it's going to be a fellow we pick for you, young lady. This Dan is an absolute scoundrel, and you're better off without him. But I'm glad you told me the truth. Then you did play with yourself, Marilyn?"
In a dying voice, her shoulders heaving with sobs, the lovely blonde culprit faintly confessed her sin of pussy frigging.
"All right. I'm not going to blame you too much for that, young lady, because I understand what your needs probably are. Only don't you do it again from now on, do you understand? The next time I find any handkerchief or wet spots on the bed, you'll get your entire spanking with the bristled side of this brush, is that clearly understood?"
"Y-yes, Mother," Marilyn sobbed.
"You may get off now, and I'll pull your panties up first. And don't forget to thank me for the spanking!" Rose said sarcastically as she began to tug up the twisted little white nylon panties till they covered the flaming ass.
Slowly Marilyn slipped down to the floor, and then at once plunged her hands back to her burning behind and rubbed, the tears streaming down her face. "Th-thank-thank you for sp-sp-spanking m-Me, M-Mother," she blubbered, head hanging, her shoulders heaving with her sobs.
She began to smooth down the punishment dress, and once again tugged at it, always forgetting how short it was and how immodestly it exposed her delicious young charms. Rose glanced quickly over at the closet, and suspected in what a state of excitement Marilyn's father must be by now.
"All right, young lady. That will do for now. Now I want you to go to my room and put the hairbrush back. Oh yes, bring me my pack of cigarettes too, while you're at it."
"Yes-yes, M-Mother," Marilyn sniffled, walking slowly and very painfully out of the room.
Instantly Frank Foster hurried out of the closet, his eyes blazing, his face blushed. Rose could see that his prick was thrusting out against the bathrobe, and she whispered hastily, "Get back to your room, you wicked old man! I'll join you shortly!"
He hurried back to his room and closed the door just as Marilyn, sniffling and sobbing, emerged from Rose's room and came back with the pack of cigarettes.
"Thank you, young lady. Now you may go to bed. And we'll talk about the job tomorrow morning at breakfast." Rose took hold of Marilyn's shoulders and kissed her on the mouth, tasting the sweet nectar of that virgin mouth with the tears of anguish which her own cruelty had engendered. She shivered with desire, and then she bade Marilyn a curt goodnight and went quickly back to Frank's bedroom.
He had flung off his bathrobe and was standing there naked, waiting for her. Once she had locked the door, she took off her negligee and came to him naked as he. He flung her down, grabbing her by the titties, on the bed, and got into her at once. With a savage lunge, he put his cock deep to the hilt inside her cunt, and at once her legs wrapped around him and her arms strained his shoulders as, mouth to mouth, moaning and gasping, they began to fuck.
There was no doubt that it was one of the most furious and satisfying screwings Rose had ever known ,in all her short married life. And she knew why she was being rogered so royally: Frank was mad with lust after having watched his daughter's naked ass under the hairbrush.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Much to Marilyn's relief, Rose permitted her to assume skirts for her interview with Ben Haroldson on the following Wednesday morning, for the interview had been set for ten o'clock. However, the auburn-haired dominatress supervised her stepdaughter's dressing, and she observed with some inner merriment that Marilyn's voluptuous white-skinned ass was once again as smooth and unblemished as when the long-legged blonde had laid herself across the bed for her last hairbrush spanking, after which had followed Marilyn's weeping confessional of frigging her virgin pussy to obtain relief from the sexual yearnings which had begun to torment her soul.
"You're really a beautiful young woman," Rose said not unkindly, as she watched her stepdaughter tug on a chastely cut white satin slip over a matching bra and panty set, together with the garter belt which hooked to the tops of her tan-colored nylons. Marilyn was wearing a brown rayon dress whose hem modestly descended to about an inch above her dimpled knees, and the blushing beauty glanced down at herself and uttered a very audible sigh of relief. "Yes, I can understand why you are happy to have long skirts back, my dear," Rose jibed. "Only don't forget, I'm going to have Mr. Haroldson give me a report on how you behave on your first job, and don't forget also that you are still living here and that any time I feel you are still acting like an immature child, you can still put on your punishment dress and get yourself ready for the hairbrush."
"I-I won't, M-Mother," Marilyn blushingly stammered. Then she put on a trim little turban over her helmet-coiffed hair and awaited Rose's final inspection.
"Very good. Now your father is going to drive you into the Loop for your interview, and he'll take you to lunch, and then you can do some shopping if you like, since you have your allowance, and meet him in his office and come back home with him tonight," Rose told her. "If you get the job, and you're a very good girl or the next two or three months, your father might just buy a little car so you can commute to and from work without taking the suburban train. But mind you, you have to be awfully good."
"I'll try awfully hard, Mother," Marilyn exclaimed. Then, blushing violently, she impulsively put her arms around her ex-college roommate, hugged Rose and gave her a kiss on the mouth.
Then, as if ashamed of her sudden impulse, she gasped out, "G-goodbye, M-Mother, see you tonight!" and hurried out of her room.. . .
About an hour later, Marilyn was sitting in a comfortable chair opposite the desk of her potential employer, sitting very primly and blushing a little because he was obviously smitten by her charms. What the delicious blonde didn't know was that Frank Foster had had quite a chat with him on the phone at Ben Haroldson's house in Norridge, and since Doug Pryor was also a good friend of Ben's, Grant Foster and Ben were able to achieve a degree of intimacy in their chat on the phone which otherwise might not have happened.
"I'd like it a lot, Ben, after hearing what I have about you, if you'd give my girl a break and put her to work at something useful. You don't have to pay her too much, that's not important. She's never been in an office before, she needs discipline very badly," he had told the rising young business executive.
"Well, I could use an attractive receptionist for a start. I suppose she can type?"
"A little, but she doesn't really have any shorthand to speak of. But what I wanted to tell you was that if she misbehaves or goes around with a chip on her shoulder or gives herself airs, Ben, I want you to let me know."
"I'm not exactly a tattletale, Frank old man," Ben Haroldson had chuckled. "What are you going to do, stop her allowance?"
"Oh no, it's not that easy for that young lady," Frank Foster chuckled. "My wife will give her a spanking, that's what."
"You're kidding!"
"No I'm not. You may not believe it, Ben, but ever since I got married a few months ago, my gorgeous wife, who used to be a roommate in college with Marilyn, has been taking her over her lap, pulling her panties down and giving her the hairbrush on the bare tail whenever Marilyn gets out of line. I think she's reasonably obedient and submissive now, and it's a great improvement over what she used to be. Just the same, since it's going to be her first job, I intend to keep up that good discipline. So I'll value your opinion."
"Now wait a minute, Frank old man!"
"Quit calling me that," Frank Foster said with a wry chuckle. "I'm not really that old, and my wife only happens to be a couple of years older than Marilyn, if you want to know something. And there aren't any complaints from her lately, either."
"You know, this is really remarkable."
"What is, Ben?"
"Well, what you said about spanking your daughter. I'm a bachelor, you know, but the last couple of dates I've had with uppity teasers, I've used that same method to get them to come across."
"Say, that is interesting! I'd like to talk more about it. Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow, after you've seen Marilyn. Of course, if she doesn't make the grade, I won't be offended if you don't hire her."
"I think I'm going to already without seeing her," was the laughing answer. "I happen to have a penchant for spanking pretty girls, and just thinking about a girl of over twenty-one who still gets her lovely hind end tanned the old-fashioned way gives me certain notions."
"We'll talk about that at lunch tomorrow, then. I'll give you a ring in the morning." Frank Foster hung up the phone with a knowing smile on his face. Maybe here was just the husband material he was looking for on Marilyn's behalf.. . .
There was no doubt that Ben Haroldson was indeed enchanted with what he saw sitting in the chair opposite his desk. He liked tall girls, but she wasn't lean and Vogue-model-looking, with that starved and lean look so many of those commercial beauties had. Those titties of hers were for real, and she had beautiful long legs which didn't lose anything in their length so far as delightful rounding was concerned. And from the glimpse he had had of her juicy round bottom, he was already beginning to feel certain twinges in the region of his crotch.
The interview went very smoothly, and Marilyn found herself telling Ben Haroldson all about her college, the studies she had majored in, and something of her hopes for her future-though of course she didn't come right out and say she was looking for a husband. But secretly, she thought to herself that a handsome fellow like this would make a wonderful lover. And actually, he was so much better-looking than Dan that she was quite willing and content to forget all about Dan from now on in-especially when it cost her tender ass the hairbrush ordeal if she yielded to the temptation of seeing that notorious love-pirate.
"All right, Miss Foster, it's settled then. I'll start you off at seventy-five a week, but that's just temporary, of course. After a month, if you improve, I'll give you more responsibility and more money. This company is going places, and you're certainly going to make a wonderful impression on my important clients, just sitting at a desk and looking lovely."
"Why, th-thank you, Mr. Haroldson," Marilyn blushed divinely as she rose. Even though she was wearing a bra today, he couldn't help noticing how those sweet closely spaced big round tits of hers jiggled. He was thinking that he would just love to get his fingers on them and hold onto them tightly while he socked it into her. Exactly his type, because he'd always liked girls with long legs. And he liked the way her hair was cut, it looked cute and youthful. Remembering what her father had told him last night on the phone, Ben Haroldson began to feel his prick hardening, and he didn't want Marilyn to see that. But he was getting the mental image of what she must look like with her dress and slip pulled, up, her panties down around her heels, her big plump firm naked ass reddening and jerking and twisting all over creation as the hairbrush came down solidly on the firm meat of those gorgeous heinie cheeks of hers. And the thought of what she would sound like when she was crying and squealing under the stinging kisses of the hairbrush and the words that would tumble out of her mouth when she was begging off and promising to be an awfully good girl, made him almost blind with lust.
Ben Haroldson had curly brown hair, wore glasses, was about six feet tall and well fleshed. He had written one or two paperback novels under a pen name, and occasionally batted out a racy sex novel when he wanted a little extra money, like for spending money on one of his sweethearts or perhaps taking a trip to Hawaii in winter to spend Christmas away from the cold blasts of the Windy City winter weather.
His parents had been dead for five years, but they had seen him succeed in his venture. They'd left him just enough money to know that if any disaster happened, he wouldn't go broke. He'd been in advertising for a couple of years after college, and then got the idea of starting his own firm. A client whose copywriting he had done at the agency had expressed confidence in him, given him a chance to handle the account on his own, and ever since then it had been clear sailing for Ben Haroldson.
He'd knocked off his first piece when he was eighteen, a pretty red-haired senior-high school girl who was something of a nymph, but whose joyous and uninhibited outlook on fucking had really made a man of him without any guilty hang-ups. Marcelline had of her own accord cupped his prick in her palms and put it between her big round titties, as she knelt down before him, and then worked herself back and forth until he had lost all fear of what it was like to be with a girl for the first time. He had fucked her three times after that, once in the normal missionary position, then with her on top, and finally dog fashion where she crouched on all fours while he grabbed her titties and pinched and squeezed them and he crammed his whang into her eager hot tight cunt.
He was thinking of settling down and getting married, but so far he hadn't found the right girl. At the moment, he was winding up an affair with Julia Vickery, a haughty, light-brown-haired divorcee of twenty-seven, who was beginning to make broad hints that she would like nothing better than to make the arrangement permanent. The trouble with Julia was that she was too gossipy for her own good, and one of her girl friends had phoned him just last week with a sly offer of a date because she "wanted to know what sort of guy is making Julia's cunny itch so bad she can't stand it. I bet I can give you a time just as good as she can, honey." He had made a note of Sybil's telephone number and address just in case, but now that he had seen and just hired Marilyn Foster, he had a feeling that he was going to devote a lot of time to the cultivation of this sweet piece of virgin pussy.
Marilyn Foster had just those contrasting attributes which would make a man randy all the time. Apart from that gorgeous figure of hers and those long legs, which meant that she could do all sorts of bedroom gymnastics, she had the personality of a timid little girl in the one sense, and a very teasing nymph on the other who still hadn't really fully wakened to the realization of her true powers. He was sure she was still cherry, but she was the sort of cherry that would probably play with herself at night and dream about a man giving it to her. And the first man who got into her panties was going to be an awful lucky son of a bitch, and he wanted to be the one.. . .
Marilyn Foster got off to a bad start her first morning on the new job. Since she hadn't got a car yet and was obliged to take the suburban train, it was necessary for her to get up at seven and leave the house by eight. This time, however, she overslept, and she wasn't into the office until about ten. Ben Haroldson happened to be out in the reception room talking to a dignified gray-haired client when she hurried in, flustered and out of breath, with a hasty "G-good morning, Mr. H-Haroldson," and he merely nodded.
After the client had left and Marilyn had hurriedly got behind the reception desk and arranged herself for her first day, her new employer looked at her askance and said rather sternly, "Miss Foster, I thought we agreed on nine o'clock."
"I-I'm so awfully sorry, Mr. H-Haroldson," Marilyn blushingly stammered. "I guess-well, I overslept."
"That's not a very good start your first day."
"I-I know it. I-I'll go without lunch to make it up-"
"No you won't. I don't starve my employees. Just try to be on time from now on, if you please."
"Y-yes, s-sir," she faltered, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
Once back in his office, Ben Haroldson chuckled to himself as he lit a cigarette. There wasn't any doubt about it, Frank Foster's young wife had really tamed this lovely spitfire. Once again he could see in his mind's eye long-legged Marilyn lying over a young woman's lap, her skirt and slip tucked up and her little panties twisted around her knees, her pump shod feet drumming the rug as, her tearstained face turned back over her shoulder, her hands gripped by her dominatress' left hand, she implored her pardon, while the hairbrush continued to rise and fall relentlessly with good hard sound smacks on her naked ass.
The first day had no other incidents, and the next morning, Marilyn, having gone to bed just a little earlier the night before, was able to make it on time. But on the last day of the week, once again she overslept but this time didn't come in until ten-forty-five, because after missing the first two trains, she had to wait about fifty minutes for the next one.
This time Ben Haroldson was standing out in the reception room with his arms folded looking very cross indeed. "Now what's your excuse, young lady?" he sternly asked.
Marilyn shivered The tone of his voice was exactly that which Rose used when spanking time was near. And the thought of being spanked again, now that she was earning her own money and had a job, was just an anathema.
"I-I tried too hard-I guess I overslept-" : "I wonder what you do with your evenings, Marilyn, if I may call you that. I mean, you don't date or anything like that?"
"Oh no, s-sir!"
"I see. Well, maybe you ought to go to bed earlier."
"I-I'm certainly going to try."
"Come into my office for a minute, please."
"Y-yes, s-sir," she nervously quavered and, hanging her head, clasping her long slim fingers in front of her, just as she did when she had to toe in for a spanking, the lovely tall blonde followed her boss into his private office.
She sat down slowly, her eyes very wide and anguished. He was secretly amused, but he didn't let her see it: "You mentioned that you don't have any boyfriends, Marilyn."
"N-no, s-sir."
"I see. You know, quite apart from the fact that you're a very lovely girl, I happen to be a bachelor. What would you think of the idea of having a date with your boss?"
"Ohhh-I-I think that would be awfully nice-but-but I hardly know you-"
"I know a good deal about you, Marilyn."
"You-you do?" Now her eyes were very huge and full of questions, and her face was flaming.
Ben Haroldson nodded as he lit a cigarette. "Your father told me something about you before you started to work here. Apparently, your stepmother is quite stern and strict with you, isn't that right?"
"Ohh dear!" Marilyn involuntarily blurted, and then covered her reddened face with her hands to hide her emotions.
"She spanks you, doesn't she?" he went on.
"Oh please, Mr. Haroldson, if you only knew how ashamed it makes me just to think about it-"
"I'll tell you something else in strict confidence. Your father told me that I was supposed to report to him how you got along here on the job. I have a sneaking hunch, Marilyn, that if I give him a bad report about you, he is going to turn you over to your stepmother for another spanking. What would you say to that?"
"Oh my goodness! I'd just die! Oh I'm so ashamed, Mr. Haroldson, to think that you know such an awful thing-I'm over twenty-one, and-and-oh it's just awful! Oh my, how can I ever look you in the face again?" Suddenly she burst into tears, bowed her head down into her hands, and her shoulders jerked with convulsive sobs.
"So you see," he went on, "You'd better behave yourself, Marilyn, because I'd hate to see you wind up over your stepmother's lap with that lovely bottom of yours turned up for a hairbrush or a strap-or does she use her hand?"
"Ohhhhh!! " Marilyn Foster wailed, absolutely beside herself with shame at this unexpected querry.
"There, there," he soothed, as he got up from his desk and went around to the chair, bent over her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not that sort of louse. I won't squeal on you, Marilyn, but you're going to have to do something for me instead."
Slowly she raised her tear-ravaged, lovely face to his, and quavered anxiously, "Wh-what, Mr. Haroldson?"
"You can start by calling me Ben. Well, the first thing, you've got to agree to have a date with me tomorrow evening. Of course I'll call your parents and make sure that it's all right, and I'll bring you back at a proper time. I imagine she has you on curfew, doesn't she?"
Marilyn nodded miserably. "And she has to give me permission to go out at all," she blonde sniffled.
"Well, I don't think there'll be any trouble on that score. Now stop crying, but just make up your mind you're going to be a good girl and work hard and come down here on time. Because if you don't, you know what's going to happen?"
Bemused, she shook her lovely head, staring at him wonderingly.
"I'll probably spank you myself," he murmured huskily, because her beauty was really getting to him. His prick was aching madly now, and it was all he could do to keep himself from ripping her clothes off and flinging her down there on the couch and giving it to her.
"Oh my goodness! You mean you-you-you'd do that to me, Mr. Haroldson-"
"I certainly will and right away if you keep on calling me that. I told you to call me Ben, didn't I?"
"Y-yes, s-sir, I mean-I mean B-Ben," she sniffled, and her face was really scarlet, even to her throat and earlobes.
"That's better. Now you can go back to work, but I advise you to go to the John and put some cold water on those lovely eyes of yours and try to smile. I promise I won't tell your father about your being late twice this week. Only it better not happen again, young lady-or else!"
* * *
To her great joy, Marilyn was allowed to have a date with her boss, who had called Frank Foster on Saturday morning to explain the situation. Again what Marilyn didn't know was that Ben Haroldson had mentioned her lateness twice this first week, and Frank Foster had chuckled and said, "You sound like a chip off the old block, Ben boy. I'm really going to have to get acquainted with you. Tell you What, when you bring her back tonight, stop in, we'll be up late, we always are on Saturday night. And I'll tell you something else, if you're really interested in Marilyn, and I really mean seriously, there isn't any reason why you can't start disciplining her yourself and with my blessing."
"You mean that?"
"I certainly do. It's time she had a man's hand on her lovely bottom, Ben, and for obvious reasons I don't propose to spank her myself. She's quite a girl, and I may just forget that she's my beautiful daughter once I take a hand or a hairbrush to that gorgeous bare tail of hers. See you late tonight, Ben!"
It was really an enchanting evening for blonde Marilyn. Rose went out of her way to help her pick out a suitable attire, and chose a very pretty blue dress with becomingly cut skirt that showed just an inch and a half above Marilyn's knees.
Ben took her to dinner at the Blackhawk Restaurant, and then to a movie. When they got out, it was about eleven-thirty, and Ben drove her in his Buick back to the Foster house.
It was a few minutes after midnight when he rang the doorbell, Marilyn standing breathlessly beside him, smiling happily. Since he had already rung the bell, he had quickly taken her into his arms and given her a very passionate and satisfying kiss on the mouth, and she had just about melted.
"Well, Ben, come in." Frank Foster opened the door and extended his hand which Ben Haroldson heartily shook. "Come right in, boy."
Marilyn followed her employer-escort, trembling just a little. She saw her young stepmother sitting in an armchair, with legs crossed, looking particularly beautiful and poised in a black satin evening gown which left her shoulders bare, and with her auburn hair braided in the regal coronet as usual.
"G-good evening, M-Mother," she stammered.
"Good evening, darling. Have a lovely time?"
"Oh yes!" Marilyn exclaimed, her eyes very starry.
"Good. Sit down here, you and Ben on the couch," Rose prompted.
Ben gallantly took Marilyn's elbow and escorted her over to the couch and sat down beside her. Frank Foster lit a cigarette and, standing facing them, chuckled, "Well, young lady, you never thought that you'd wind up your first week on a new job going out to dinner and a show with your boss, did you?"
"N-no, D-Daddy." Marilyn stammered.
"Well, Ben, what do you think of my little girl?"
"She's a knockout, Mr. Foster. I've got ideas about her."
"You have? Why don't you tell us about them, Rose and I would be very happy to hear what you have in mind," Frank Foster went on amiably.
"Ohhhh, Daddy!" Marilyn gasped, dying with embarrassment again.
"Go on, Ben, don't mind Marilyn," the virile gray-haired business executive urged.
"Well, Mr. Foster, I've fallen in love with your daughter. I know it's short notice, but I'm really in love with her and I'd like to marry her."
"Ohhh, Ben-oh, Ben, what a way to propose-oh my goodness, I don't know whether I should run away or what," Marilyn impulsively gasped. Then she turned a rapturous look on the handsome brown-haired executive.
"You've got my blessing, and I'm sure Rose is just as happy," Frank Foster concluded. "It is a little short notice, but you don't have to get married right away. Marilyn has to learn a few things before she can really make a good wife. like, for instance, cooking. And getting to work on time, eh, Ben?"
"D-Daddy-oh v Ben, you promised you wouldn't tell him!" Marilyn gasped, looking at her handsome boss accusingly.
"I didn't tell him, he asked. Don't you think he knew when you were late? And your stepmother knew it too, honey. I couldn't very well lie and say you were on time when they knew that you'd missed a couple of trains."
"Oh dear!"
"I think," Rose said sweetly as she rose from her chair, "That we ought to leave these two lovebirds together. And I might say to you, Ben, as a prospective son-in-law, that the best way to teach Marilyn a lesson that she will remember is to give her a good sound spanking. I imagine you're going to keep her on the job until the two of you set a wedding date, so you had just as well begin quickly taking over her discipline where I left off."
"M-M-Mother-oh you can't mean that-oh no, Daddy, don't let him-oh please-this is just awful-I want to go to my room-" Marilyn wailed as she suddenly rose from the couch.
But Ben Haroldson had a strange smile on his face. "Are you serious, both of you?" he wanted to know.
"I should hope to tell you," Frank Foster chuckled. "Let's see what kind of husband material you really are, Ben boy!"
"You're going to stay exactly where you are, young lady," Frank Foster intervened. "If you need any help, Ben, we'll wait around here for a minute just to be on hand."
"No, Daddy-that's not fair-this is awful-M-Mother, don't let him do it to me-I've been a good girl-you know I have!" Marilyn tearfully protested, turning first from her auburn-haired young stepmother to her stern-faced father.
Ben Ben Haroldson now took over. Seizing Marilyn around the waist, he seated himself and flung her down over his lap.
"No, you shan't-I don't want you to-not in front of everybody-this isn't right-make him stop, Daddy, Mother, please, oh please-oh if I have to be spanked-do it yourself-but don't let him see, I don't want Ben to see-oh no-don't pull up my clothes-please-please, don't let him!" Marilyn wailed, kicking her legs and trying madly to twist herself off the couch.
But Ben Haroldson revealed himself to be a master at overcoming the lovely young blonde's most energetic maneuvers. Clamping his right leg over her calves, he pinioned her effectively. His left hand grabbed her wrist and held them in a vise, while with his right hand he whisked up her skirt and slip and tucked them high above her waist, exposing the lovely plump round cheeks of her voluptuous ass, encased in the snug white panties underneath which was the narrow circle of the clinging garter belt whose tabs hoisted the tops of her tan-nylon hose without a wrinkle on those long luscious legs.
"Noooooo!! I don't want you to, don't you dare take my panties down, I hate you, Ben Haroldson-I won't go to work for you any more-I'll quit-I'll-oh, Mother, make him stop-oh he's taking my panties down-oh don't-Ben, I hate you, I just want to die-ohhh!"
He had indeed taken her panties down, and twisted them round her knees. His eyes glistened as they fell on the white-skinned, squirming and huddling ass, for Marilyn naturally tried to tighten the cheeks of her behind as tightly as she could to prevent exposing her most intimate parts to this handsome, masterful man.
His right palm quickly passed over the quivering, palpitating white flesh, while Rose and Frank stood in a trance, an arm around each other's waist, feeling the sensual aura of the scene inspire them to their own passionate fulfillment later on.
Having appraised Marilyn's virgin ass, Ben Haroldson now moved to direct action. Raising his hand, he brought it down energetically on the right summit, and followed that quickly, even as poor Marilyn was wriggling and squealing with pain and embarrassment, with a second slap that flattened the other summit and left a correspondingly pink splotch on each gorgeous ass-cheek.
Now his hand rose and fell as he warmed to his task, and Marilyn soon forgot her shame and began to yell out, "Owww! that hurts, oh Ben, stop it-please, I'll be a good girl, I won't be late again-oh please, Daddy M-Mother, make him stop-he's killing me-oh it hurts-oh it's worse than the hair-brush--oh please stop!"
Her behind executed the most lascivious gyrations imaginable. She arched and shifted, flattened herself, twisted this way and that, jerked and squirmed each time his hand landed with an emphatic "Smack!" On the furiously discoloring cheeks of her voluptuous virgin seat. By the thirtieth spank, she was in tears, and she was pleading with him to stop.
But Ben Haroldson kept on spanking, and finally after about fifteen more, halted just long enough to ask, "Will you marry me, Marilyn, and be a good girl from now on?" Smack-whack! Twice his hand fell, each time over the crease of her luscious bottom, and each time Marilyn's ass wildly squirmed and twisted in the air, then wriggled madly over his lap: "Owww-eeeyowww!! Oh yes, I'll do anything if you'll only stop!" she tearfully yelled.
"Anything?" he demanded, adding two more stinging slaps to the base of her beautiful behind, and then one to her right upper thigh.
"Owwouuuu!! Oh yes, anything in the world, oh please, I'll be a good girl, I'll do anything you want, Ben, you can love me or anything, just stop spanking, please!" Marilyn sobbed hysterically.
When he glanced up, he saw that Rose and Frank had left the room. And with a good reason-they were on their way to bed, where quickly disrobing, they began to fuck violently. Marilyn would be in very good hands from now on in.
Ben Haroldson understood. He had been accepted as a son-in-law. And now that he was alone with the half-naked weeping blonde, feeling his prick ready to burst, he determined to put her to the test: "Do you really mean anything, baby?" he demanded, again raising and lowering his hand with a sonorous smack, first on one cheek and then the other. And then, when she sobbed and groaned and kicked and squirmed, he added two more to the lower summit of each globe.
"Owww, yes, yes, anything, oh you're killing me, you're just killing me!" she wailed.
"Get up then," he ordered.
Sobbingly, Marilyn rose to her feet, her hands rubbing her bottom, and her clothes remained upthrust just long enough for him to see the light-brown curls of her pussy fleece. She saw that his eyes were fixed, and she uttered a gasp and turned crimson with delicious shame and outraged virginal modesty, then tried to pull her clothes down.
"Oh no you don't!" he said. "You said anything, and I'm going to hold you to it. We're engaged now, and what I say goes, young lady."
"Yes-but oh-it was awful, and it shamed me so the way you did it, Ben-you oughtn't to have told-oh you're awful-"
"I see you haven't been convinced yet, young lady. Come back here to me," he said coldly as he reached for her waist, yanked her down over his lap, once again pulled up her skirt and slip and began to spank.
"Owwoeee! ! Oh yes, I'll be good, I'll do anything, I mean it, just stop spanking my poor behind-oh you're killing me, I'll be the best girl you ever had-oh please, let up, I'm dying, I'll do just anything you say, dearest!" she squealed, trying to kick and twist and wriggle away from the barrage of hot spanks on her already inflamed bare ass.
"All right. But this time you'd better be obedient. Now get up, and then get down on your knees and thank me for spanking you. And pull up your skirt and slip and hold them well up so I can see all of you. You're going to be my wife now, and I've got the right," he told her.
"Y-yes, s-sir," she sniffled as she stumbled to her feet, then sank down on her knees, not without a grimace of anguish at the pain it cost her burning bottom.
There on her knees, pulling up her clothes and trembling fingers, her panties twisted around her claves, she showed him all she had except of course her titties. Her face was flaming, and her eyes were downcast. "Now tell me you're going to be a good girl and obey me," he said huskily.
"I-I'm going to be a good girl and-and-do whatever you want, Ben darling-only please, please don't spank me anymore, please!" she entreated.
"Do you see what you've done to me, young lady?" he said sternly as he pointed to his bulging prick which thrust out against the fly of his trousers.
Marilyn stared, gulped, then nodded, scarlet to her ears and throat again. My, how big it was, she thought to herself.
"Take it out and look at it. You know what it's going to be used for once we get married, baby," he urged. And when she hesitated, he added, "Otherwise, back you go over my lap, and this time I'll use my belt on that big red behind of yours, Marilyn darling!"
She put one hand behind her as if to protect her threatened ass, and with the other, letting go of her clothes, suddenly reached forward and yanked down his zipper, then liberated his prick.
"Now take it and kiss it!" he ordered harshly
"Ohhhh, Ben!" she gasped. "Do it, or it's the belt on your bottom," he warned.
Sniffling, blushing, shivering, Marilyn tentatively bent her head toward his rigid ramrod and implanted a tremulous kiss upon it.
It was too much even for Ben Haroldson. He raised her to her feet, leaning forward and grabbing her by the elbow, pulled her down and flung her on her back. Then, fucking up her clothes and exposing her cunt again because her panties were still tangled around her ankles, he fell upon her.
Her startled cry turned to one of delight, and even that was silenced as their lips met in a burning kiss. She could feel his prick digging against the warm twitching lips of her cunt, and now she knew that she never going to have to use her finger.
Her cry of joy as he tore through her cherry and went on to the very depths of her tight sheath, was so loud that it was heard upstairs. Frank and Rose had been so engrossed in each other they had forgotten to completely shut the doer of their bedroom. And the sound of their lovely blonde daughter's cry of womanhood excited them all the more to resume their fucking in even more feverish style.
Ben Haroldson began to fuck his beautiful bride-to-be, his fingers digging into her sore red ass-cheeks, as he panted, "From now on, Marilyn baby, you're going to do everything I want, or I'm going to know the reason why. That spanking was just a sample, and I think I can do a better job than even your stepmother-do you agree?"
"Ohh-y-yes, oh my darling-give it to me-oh Ben-you can do it anytime you want, as long as you fuck me, like this," Marilyn panted joyously.
