Caroline saw the fierce look in her father's lust-glazed eyes. He glared at her darkly, burning with lust.
She knew she was going to get it. She was powerless in his strong arms as he pressed her against his body. His embrace was tight and she could feel her young breasts pressing against the coarse hairs of her father's enormous chest.
Her body shuddered with dread and helpless desire as he lowered his face and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her brutally. She felt his tongue plunge into her mouth and the rough stubble of his unshaven face burned her soft tender cheeks.
Her father reached between her milky thighs and pried them apart. He tore at the bottoms of her bikini to expose her blonde pubic fur.
Suddenly he cupped her groin in his huge hand and Caroline felt herself dripping hotly into his palm. Her father buried his face in her tits, sucking and biting her stiffening nipples.
He took her tits into his mouth, one at a time, licking, gobbling and biting them. Her breasts thrilled to the heat of his expert tongue and her hole heated in anticipation of his attack.
Her father pressed his bulging groin into her beaver and Caroline felt the throbbing immensity of his powerfully potent cock. He grabbed her hand and moved it to the swollen power inside his swimming trunks. She felt his cock on her palm. It was thick and meaty and his giant balls were hard and gnarled with masculine urges.
Her clit yearned and her cunt ached for her father. She felt him move against her, stripping his swimming trunks from his huge hairy body. She felt his muscles grinding against her flesh.
CHAPTER ONE
Some things are impossible to deny. Other things are possible to deny, but too silly to bother denying. Caroline knew it would be silly to deny that first class was superior to coach. It would also be impossible. There was no denying it. She liked first class more. To pretend otherwise would be foolish and hypocritical.
The view of the clouds was the same. The altitude, the pressure in the ears, and the slight chance of crashing between Boston and Los Angeles were the same in the front or rear of the airplane. Caroline knew that, but somehow her fear of flying was less in first class.
The few times she had been in an airplane she had been in the back, in coach, usually in a center seat, feeling crowded by other passengers on either side of her. She had always been nervous, too apprehensive to read, write letters, or even watch the movie. Invariably, she would light up the moment the plane was in the air and the "No Smoking" sign turned off. She would bite her finger nails and chain-smoke throughout the flight, racing through two or three packs until the sign went back on.
Liquor was another way to calm her terror of airplanes, but more often than not the stewardesses would ask to see her I.D. She hated them when they did that. It wasn't fair. If she was old enough to risk her life in a flight across the country she was certainly old enough to have a drink. But the stewardesses would always look at her through their stupid looking eyes, smiling vapidly. Actually they did not smile. Caroline did not consider the tricks they did with their mouths to be smiles.
No, they didn't smile. They flexed their glossy lips and flashed their polished teeth and waited for Caroline to hand over her I.D. The stewardesses were like computers; they had to live by the rules because they had not been programmed for anything else. Were they really so stupid that they could not realize that a frightened and rather naive seventeen-year-old girl needed a drink just as desperately as a tired business man who hadn't done anything but lift telephone receivers and write checks all day, or a fat assed matron in mink whose greatest anguish all week had been riding in a cab to the airport?
Sometimes a man in the next seat came to her rescue. Caroline had often accepted drinks from men who had been sitting in the adjacent seat, eyeing her legs and tits and trying to think of a good opening line.
The last time she had been in a plane, on her way back to college from her spring vacation in Los Angeles, Caroline had accepted two martinis from an attractive man in the next seat. The drinks had soothed her nerves, and she was so grateful that she had let him reach inside her skirt during the movie. When the lights went out in the cabin and all the passengers turned their eyes toward the screen, Caroline even granted the man his request: she went down on him, squirming in her seat to take his cock in her mouth. She sucked him until he came in her mouth.
That had been her first taste of semen. She owed it to the friendly skies. She had not objected to his request at all; she had been too happy to oblige. It was the least she could do to repay his generosity. She had seen the movie anyway, or part of it. She had gone one night during her vacation with her father and her brother. They had found it too tedious to sit through. Sucking cock at an altitude of twenty-seven thousand feet was more interesting than a boring movie.
On this flight Caroline had accepted more than a drink or two from a man. She had accepted a first class ticket.
She had been in the bar of Logan Airport. She needed to fortify herself for the long flight from Boston to Los Angeles. The plane was scheduled to depart at midnight; at quarter after eleven Caroline was a bundle of nerves. Martinis interested her more than boarding.
She was reaching into her purse for the price of her second very dry, very strong martini, half resolved to drink herself to death rather than buy her second class ticket to the real-life disaster movie she expected to experience on the plane, high and helpless in the sky. Liquor had affected her just enough to make her giddy, but it had not completely soothed her nerves. She had two cigarettes burning, one in her hand and another in the ashtray.
From the corner of her eye she saw a tall, well dressed man approach the bar.
She felt a tingle in her body when he sat down on the stool next to her. She knew that he was staring at her; she could feel his eyes bearing into her like high-intensity light beams.
Her body tensed in anticipation.
Caroline had not yet looked at the man's face, and now she was too nervous to steal a glance. She knew that he had deliberately taken the stool next to hers for the purpose of making some kind of pass or overture.
That was all she needed! She was such a basket case already that she could not possibly command the dignity she needed to put down an aggressive man on the make.
Trying to focus on the contents of her open purse, anxiously trying to locate some cash among the lipsticks, the paperbacks, the pens and her supply of tampons, Caroline's eyes wandered in the direction of the man's lap.
She could see his sturdy legs. They looked muscular through the fabric of his trousers. Inevitably, she shifted her eyes to look at his crotch. His pants were well-tailored, and somehow the cut of them made his groin extremely arresting.
They were not the snugly fitted levis that all the college men wore, and there was no blatant bulge between the suited man's legs. Caroline could not estimate the proportions of the man's genitals, and his loosely fitted crotch intrigued and tantalized her.
She found it impossible to focus on her purse. The mysterious crotch of the man held her eyes like a magnet. She felt that she was at a disadvantage; he could estimate the size of her tits through her tight silk blouse. She was not wearing a bra, and she knew that her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. She felt her nipples stiffen, knowing that the man was staring straight at them.
Without having seen his face, Caroline knew that the man was examining her entire body with interest. She was dressed as minimally as possible, not because she had planned to look sexy today, but because it had been hot that day. Boston could be an uncomfortably hot city in June, and Caroline had dressed in a way to minimize both the heat and the discomfort of a long flight.
The result was sexy, nevertheless.
She was wearing her pink silk blouse, a casual and rather skimpy pink skirt, pantyhose and low heels. The pink blouse and skirt clung like adhesive to her moist, perspiring flesh, and she knew that her form was discernible under her immodest clothes.
Caroline wanted to look at the man whose eyes she felt drilling into her body, burning through her clinging clothes like ex-rays. But she was too embarrassed. She knew that she should not have looked at his crotch. Surely, he had seen her eyes twitch, or had felt her eyes on his body in the same way that she felt his.
Suddenly, she became aware of how ridiculous she must seem. She realized that she had a cigarette in her hand and another in the ashtray, that she was fumbling through her purse, without even looking at it. She felt like an idiot, the epitome of the disorganized Woman conducting a solitary scavenger hunt through the chaos of her bag.
She also felt helplessly lewd, her eyes locked on the man's crotch and her brain calculating his dimensions through the haze of her increasing intoxication.
On an empty stomach, and with her current nervousness, two dry and double martinis were lethal. But she did not feel at all torpid; she felt terribly on edge, too alert for comfort. The liquor had done nothing to slow the rushing currents of her body. Her heart was throbbing and a warm tide was beginning to flow between her legs. She felt her pussy come to life, as though someone had trespassed into a locked room, flicked a switch and illuminated a gallery of naughty pictures.
She knew she should be ashamed of herself. In forty-five minutes she was supposed to board an enormous aircraft. She was frightened out of her wits, and yet she was concentrating all her thoughts on the groin of a man whose face she had not even seen.
It was madness: her cunt was getting off on a crotch that had no name or face.
Caroline's eyes devoured the sight of the man's charcoal gray trousers. Her father often wore the same color, the same flannel fabric. Her father was apt to sit at a bar as this man was sitting, his knees spread apart, or crossing his legs by resting the right ankle at the left knee.
Without seeing the man's face, Caroline was reminded of her father by the body alone. Her father had the same sturdy looking thighs, the same firm, strong haunches, and the same loosely outlined crotch that always made her wonder.
"May I be of some assistance, young lady?" Caroline heard the man ask.
His voice was deep, firm, gallant but business-like.
She liked the sound of his voice. Different women were attracted by different attributes of men. Many of the girls she knew claimed that men's asses were the first thing they examined, and that if a man didn't have a nice looking ass they would never be turned on by him. Others said that they looked first at his eyes and could tell instantly whether they wanted to know him or not; others said that they made their initial assessment by looking at a man's lips.
To Caroline, it was the crotch that caught her eye first. It would be foolish to deny it. If the crotch didn't interest her she was not apt to look at the man's ass or eyes or lips.
But if a man with a terrific looking crotch opened his mouth to speak and had a bad voice she lost interest; no matter how furiously her pussy had steamed at the sight of his crotch and the suggestion of his cock, it would dry up like the Mojave Desert if the voice didn't live up to the outline between the legs.
It was a rare joy when a good crotch had a good voice. More than a joy, it was a miracle. Caroline was so often disappointed by men's voices. Studs rarely spoke well, but this one did. If he had spoken in a high, raspy or flat voice, Caroline would have told him to go to hell. But he had spoken with fine tone and a thrilling sound of authority, and there was no denying that she was in dire need of some assistance, although she did not know what kind.
What could this man do for her?
Maybe he could take her away from this airport nightmare? Maybe he could give her one last fey fuck before the plane crashed.
Still pretending to be mesmerized by her purse, digging her hands in frantically, Caroline began to mumble, almost incoherently.
"It's so silly," she began without yet looking him in the face, "you'll think I'm a fool. I'm supposed to get on a plane at midnight. I'm scared to death of flying, and I absolutely must have another drink. I mean, I need two more before I can possibly get on the plane, but I need at least one more before I can even go buy my ticket. It's absurd! I'm too nervous to get my ticket. Everyone in the world flies back from school this time of year; I don't even know if I can still get a seat. But I don't even care, at this point. I just need another drink, but I can't find my damn pocket book. I simply can't find it inside this purse."
Caroline could have babbled nonsensically for hours. She had almost started to explain to the strange man that she was unable to find her pocket book because she had the curse and her bag was loaded with tampons. That's how out of control she was. She would have told him anything, whether he wanted to know or not. She might have told him that she had been staring at his crotch because his trousers were like her father's.
Fortunately, the man interrupted her, good naturedly.
"Perhaps you are unable to find your pocket book in your purse for the simple reason that it is on the bar." He said.
Caroline could hear the smile in his voice, and for the first time she moved her eyes from his crotch to look directly at his face.
"Oh, how unbelievably asinine. How stupid of me! I've been looking for it for the last five minutes." She said.
She did feel utterly ridiculous. When she saw the man's amused expression on his handsome, dark complected face, she felt even more idiotic. He was wondrously good looking. He had dark brown eyes, dark hair, firm and sensual lips, and a substantial nose with slightly flared nostrils. Caroline cared about men's noses. They excited her. Everything about a good looking man excited her.
"Not at all," he said indulgently, "everyone can become befuddled when they're nervous."
"How would you know what it's like to be nervous?" she asked, almost impatiently, "you look as though you've never been nervous in your life."
She knew that she should not speak so familiarly to a total stranger, but she was not herself. She could not accurately judge this man's nerves, of course, but she was annoyed by his assumptions about her condition. He had no idea what she was going through.
She watched the smile break out his face. It was almost lewd. She saw him place one hand on the bar and another on his thigh, close to his crotch.
"Believe me," he said, "I know what it's like to be nervous. I'm nervous right now about how to ask if I may buy you a drink."
For the first time Caroline relaxed in this man's presence. "You don't have to be nervous about that. You can ask me anyway you like. In fact, you don't have to ask me at all. Of course, you may buy me a drink."
He did buy her a drink. He bought her two drinks.
Caroline was delighted to hear that he was also taking the midnight flight to Los Angeles.
When he told her that she did not have to buy her ticket she was astounded. He explained that he had expected to travel with his daughter, but that she had decided at the last minute to spend a week in New York. He had not yet cashed in her ticket, and he would be happy to give it to Caroline in exchange for her charming company during the long and rather boring flight.
It was not the kind of offer that Caroline usually accepted, perhaps because it was not the kind of offer she often received. In fact, she had never received such an offer. To her surprise, she accepted. She was too tipsy to turn a good thing down, and she was attracted to the handsome man in the charcoal suit. He was handsome and distinguished looking. He looked close to forty, but in exceptional physical condition. Actually, he did not look close to forty. But Caroline had a intuitive feeling that he was. Her father was close to forty, and this man was very like her father. He was attractive, protective and conveyed animal grace and authority in every movement and gesture. And he had the wonderful voice.
In the bar, Caroline had felt her pussy getting wet and hot. She felt tingles in her clit and stiffening in her nipples.
For the first time she found herself looking forward to a flight.
And it was a heavenly flight.
"I've never flown first class before," she whispered.
"Honey, you don't need to fly first class; you are first class." He replied, meaning it.
They had more drinks, far better food than she had ever had in coach, good wines that never ran out.
The stewardesses had not dared ask for I.D. Caroline felt mature, adult and sophisticated. After a few hours in the air she was ready for anything.
She was so content in the company of this wonderful man, in the dark sky, the tastes and magic of wines flowing in her heating blood. She felt as though she were flying to the moon on an enchanted ship, or a magic carpet. It was marvelous, and she knew it could be even better.
They had enjoyed fine conversation and had delighted in the fine turns of each other's minds. Now Caroline was ready to enjoy his body.
The cabin was dark. Across the aisle a fat woman in mink snored, making sounds like an unmuffled motor. Even the stewardesses were sitting in the back playing cards and gossiping. No one had moved in the cabin for an hour.
Caroline reached for the man's hand. The martinis, the wines, the cognacs had fortified her courage and inflamed her lust.
She took his hand from his thigh and placed it on her knee.
"Please," she whimpered, "touch me."
"Here?" He asked.
"Yes! Here on the plane," she moaned, "and here," she guided his hand inside her skirt and up her thighs, directing him to the oasis between her legs. She needed him to touch her first class cunt.
The man was not surprised by Caroline's sudden lust. In fact, it did not seem sudden. He had been expecting it to happen.
From the moment he spied this girl in the airport cocktail lounge he could tell that she would be an exciting travel companion. He could tell from the way she crossed and re-crossed her long, slender legs, and the way she dug her graceful hands into her handbag absent-mindedly.
Joshua Ramsay had been attracted to the girl instantly. She was not like the kind of woman commonly found in airport bars.
Airport bars proliferate with a kind of woman Joshua knew too well. The perfectly coifed, sleek women who, no matter their age, always struggled to look a few or many years younger. They were women who invested too much money and two many hours in their facade. When a man cracked the facades of these women he found another kind of hardness underneath. Inside these women a man encountered a hardness, and a dryness. He had known that Caroline would be different. He recognized her youth, her freshness, her naivete. She was a beautiful woman, not at all crude, but with a lack of that certain polish that tend to put layers of crust and artifice on other women.
Joshua liked the silky feeling of this young woman's legs.
He rubbed his hand up Caroline's thigh, pressing his fingers admiringly against the firm softness of her delicate flesh.
He liked the feeling of the sheer pantyhose, but he wanted to feel her skin. He knew that it would be moist and tender, warm and delicious to his touch. He knew also that she would like the feeling of his hand on her skin, that she would want him to touch her more, further, deeper. He explored further into the mysteries inside her skirt. He pressed one hand against her thigh, taking a handful of her young flesh. He grabbed it and felt it fill his hand, almost oozing through his fingers like kneaded dough.
With his other hand, Joshua played with Caroline's bra-less tits through her sheer pink silk blouse.
During the martinis, the dinner, the wines and the cognacs, Caroline had played with the buttons of her blouse. Joshua did not know if she were doing it absent mindedly, or if she had deliberately been seducing him. Either way, Joshua was grateful. Her half-unbuttoned blouse gave him free and easy access to her twin female mounds.
He roamed with his hand from tit to tit, enjoying them both. He felt the warm ripeness of their fleshy abundance, and the smooth, soft texture of her naked skin.
With his finger he found and flicked at Caroline's nipples. They were rigid, small, delicious pearls of flesh. Her nipples were jewels. He could feel them erect and excited against his fingertips, but he wanted to see them.
It was dark in the first class cabin. Passengers were sleeping, snoring contentedly, full of salmon mousse, rack of lamb and Chateau Margaux. No one would ever know.
Deftly, Joshua removed his hand from the interior of Caroline's half opened blouse. His hand missed the warmth of her tits, but he knew he would soon get back to them, not only with his hand, but also with his eyes.
He worked expertly at the small buttons of the girls silk blouse, pealing the damp fabric from her moist flesh, unraveling the wrappings of her lovely body, exposing her charms to his devouring eyes.
Caroline felt Joshua's hands unwrapping the gift of her flesh. She wanted to give herself to him. She wanted him to have her, and she wanted to have him. She would give anything to have him. She wanted his hands on her body. She wanted his hands inside her; she wanted his mouth to lick and nibble her skin, to heat her already over-warmed flesh. She wanted to feast on him, to complete the banquet of sybaritic pleasures they had only begun to enjoy together.
She squirmed in her seat, writhing on the fabric, rotating her hips and grinding her pelvis. She felt the comfort of soft cushions against her ass, but she ached at the same time. Joshua's fingers were only inches from her cunt, inches from her clit, but it felt as though he might never touch them fully.
Pleasure seemed near, .almost here, almost now. But fulfillment was not yet promised. It lurked enticing on a horizon of her being, but it had not yet distilled its perfect ambrosia nectars in her flesh. She wanted all the bounties of ecstasy's hot explosive elixirs. She wanted Joshua's body to complete this moment that was building in her mind and flesh. She needed his body to fulfill her.
Caroline squirmed in the seat, slouching downward, slipping her ass lower on the cushion. She arched her body, coaxing her cunt closer to the tips of Joshua's fingers.
Joshua undid the last button of Caroline's blouse. He gently opened the silk wrapping of her treasures, peeling the fabric to the sides of her body.
He looked at her tits. They were perfectly formed, peaches of female flesh.
As he lowered his face to them, beginning to kiss them with his lips, he felt the wet warmth of Caroline's groin rub teasingly against his fingers. He could feel the texture of her pantyhose, and through the slightly coarse fabric he could feel the mossy webs of her pubic hair.
He moved his fingers closer to the heart of the target. Her cunt was wet with her youth, her lust, her feminine wonders.
He massaged her womanhood with his hand, feeling her soft moss, her skin and her lascivious sex dew. Her cunt was secreting generous amounts of female ambrosia.
Exploring with one hand deeper into her grove of delights, Joshua stole his other hand from her tits to reach into his own pocket.
Caroline was too entranced to follow his movements, and she did not notice as Joshua withdrew a long, sharp silver nail file.
But she felt the cold tip of it between her legs.
Joshua pierced the dense webs of Caroline's sheer pantyhose, tearing the fabric to expose her wet cunt and her clit. He was determined to feel her female tissues on his hand. He wanted to experience the naked glories of this lovely young woman.
Caroline felt the sharp silver file tearing her pantyhose. She did not care what the man might think of her. Usually she did wear panties, but it had been too hot that afternoon when she had dressed. She had almost dressed without hose. He might think it brazen for a young woman to be virtually naked under her skirt, but she did not care. Maybe she was brazen. She had been thinking and dreaming about sex for days, scarcely able to contain herself during the last days of exams before the long-awaited summer vacation.
For some reason she had not thought out and could not understand, to be home in Los Angeles with her father and brother seemed delicious and promising. It seemed the sexiest place to be.
But it was sexy where she was. She loved being high in the skies with an attractive man who desired her body. She loved the slight stabbing of his nail file against her pantyhose, and she felt it touch lightly against her own flesh, teasing her cunt and clit with its hard cold metal.
Suddenly, she felt Joshua's fingers on her flesh. His skin was warm on her own, and she felt him teasing her cunt deliciously with his fingers. She wanted more of him.
Quickly, she reached for his zipper.
She found the magic metal tab and tugged at it eagerly.
She buried her hand in the opening she had made for herself in Joshua's lap. She felt the bulge inside his shorts.
She stretched her hand open over the frontal girth of his crotch. She felt her hand expand around the volume of his maleness.
Eagerly, she closed her hand around him, filling her palm with his manhood. She felt the thickness and length of his cock. It was a long snake of flesh, full bodied, powerful. It was a magic wand. A marvel.
Caroline felt Joshua stiffening inside his pants, thrilled to her touch. As she tightened her grip around him, she felt him respond in turn. The hand on her tits made an appreciative fist around her left globe, squeezing it excitedly, and his fingers began to invade her cunt, digging further into her torrid female swamp that was fervid with desire.
She tightened her hand around him, feeling his cock growing under her touch. She felt his balls in her hand, and she loved squeezing them through his shorts. They were large, firm orbs of masculine strength, and she knew that they held many promises of potency. She wanted to feel them naked. She wanted to pull them out of his shorts.
She felt Joshua digging deeper into her cunt, spiraling a finger in the wet hot tunnel of her thrilled tissues.
"Ah," she moaned lightly. It was too delicious to continue this way. They had gone too far to go back, but they were not yet far enough; they had to go further.
Caroline turned in her seat, squirming to face Joshua.
She extracted her hand from his trousers, and began to work with both hands on the necessary task of unfastening his belt.
She maneuvered the leather and hardware that kept his nakedness locked and unavailable. She wanted to have all his masculine flesh available. She wanted the gift of his virility to fill her hands and her body. She wanted to see his naked cock, his balls, his thighs, his male loins.
Joshua stole a hand from Caroline's tits to help her unfasten his belt. Together they drew his pants open at the waist. He helped Caroline to open the waist of his trousers and his fly. He watched as Caroline dig into his shorts to extract his cock.
All its mighty inches of potency came out stiffly from the opening in his shorts.
But Caroline did not stop there. She forced her hand into his shorts to draw out his balls.
Joshua felt her forcefully maneuvering them through the opening of his shorts, and he felt his balls being coaxed out by the eager girl who wanted them to fill her hands with their heavy masculine volume.
He felt Caroline's moist palm against his heavy balls, and he watched as she lowered her face toward his groin.
Caroline flicked her tongue on the hardening shaft of his cock. She felt it heating against her tongue, getting harder, stretching out to its full great proportions. It was getting even bigger as she teased it with her tongue.
She nibbled it with her lips, feeling it pulse against her kisses. She knew that he would like her to take it fully in her mouth and suck it. She would do that for him. She would do it for herself. She wanted to suck his cock, but she wanted to lick his balls too.
She wanted to stroke his chest, to open his shirt as he had opened hers. She wanted to explore all of his strong body with her hands, her mouth, and she wanted to feel the fullness of him in her pussy. She wanted it all. He felt her lips puckering up and down the length of his hardening cock.
Then he saw her mouth open and her head lower itself on his lap. Her mouth stretched to take the entirety of his balls. He felt her mouth close around them, engulfing his balls in her hot wet mouth.
He could feel the heat of her tongue and the wonderful strokes it made on the sensitive skin of his nuts.
Caroline felt Joshua's balls filling her mouth. She felt her cheeks stretch with the inserted size of his maleness. His balls gave her a renewed curiosity for the taste of his cock.
She wanted to taste his rod in her mouth before she felt it stiff and throbbing in her cunt.
Joshua reached for Caroline's head, taking it in both hands. He lifted it from his balls, raised it to the head of his cock, and arched his pelvis, directing his hard prick into her warm delicious mouth.
He pushed her head down on his standing dick, forcing her to take inches of his hot flesh.
Caroline felt the hard flesh of his cock filling her mouth, stuffing her face with more manhood than even his big balls had given her.
And she savored every inch of it.
She made suction with her cheeks, making a fleshy vacuum of her mouth.
She stroked her tongue up and down the length of his hard cock, giving slippery sensations to every inch of his hard standing dick.
Joshua inserted a second finger into her cunt. He felt it slip in easily, her pussy almost reaching out to gobble it up.
He felt her wet tissues grab onto his fingers, squeezing them, as though they were a cock and she wanted to milk the sperm out and drink it through her hole to nourish the secret abyss of her body.
He poked further into her cunt, delighting her. If her hole was this hungry for his fingers, he could not wait to give her the full feast of his big hard cock.
Caroline arched her body forward, squirming her pelvis, pushing her cunt down deeper on his fingers, grinding her hole toward the root of his fingers.
She bucked her body in the seat, squirming, rotating, widening her cunt around his fingers. She twitched her body, gliding forward and back, pushing and pulling her cunt on the hardness of his fingers, humping her body.
She moved her pelvis and her face in rhythm, coaxing his fingers in and out of the hot hole between her legs, and slurping her stretched mouth up and down the length of his big cock.
Instantly, Caroline pulled her cunt away from his fingers, raised her sucking mouth from his cock, pulled her tits away from his caressing hand, and removed her body from his touch.
She pulled her blouse together, wrapping it tightly around her body, but not buttoning it.
She lifted her body from the seat, stood up and moved out into the aisle.
"Follow me in two minutes," she said.
Joshua watched her ass as she went down the aisle, opened the door of the lavatory and closed it behind her.
He felt his cock throb and his balls tighten.
He put them back in his pants, zipped himself up half way, casually adjusted his open belt and sat back in the seat.
He looked out the window and watched the black darkness of the sky. The earth was miles below, but the world was up here in the sky with him, waiting in the bathroom of the airplane.
A minute was enough time to spend on the view of endless darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
When Joshua opened the door of the airplane lavatory, he saw Caroline pealing the pink silk blouse from her body.
Joshua reached for her flesh, helping her remove the garment. She caressed her shoulders, dragging the clinging silk from her long slender arms.
Her torso was naked. He lowered his face to her breasts, licking her nipples one at a time.
"Lock the door," she said.
Without moving his face from her tits, Joshua groped for the door and locked it.
Caroline reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one at a time. She opened his shirt and reached in to explore his hard chest. It was covered with dark animal hair.
She felt the muscularity of it in her hands. She flattened her palm and pressed his hard hairy pectorals.
With her other hand she reached for his pants. She unfastened his waistband, tugged at his half-closed zipper and reached in to feel the cock she had missed during her interminable wait of one endless minute in the airplane lavatory.
She moved her hand to the elastic waist of his shorts, digging into them and dragging them down his body.
She followed them with her hands, rubbing against his strong hairy thighs as she lowered them to his knees.
She did not stop there. She dragged them all the way to his ankles.
Caroline turned around, her back to the mirror over the stainless steel sink of the bathroom.
She raised herself, planting her ass on the counter.
Keeping one hand on his chest and another on his hard cock, Caroline leaned forward, lowering her face to his groin.
She licked his hard cock quickly in passing.
She moved her ass from the counter and kneeled between his legs on the floor of the small room. There was hardly sufficient space for their two bodies. Soon they would have to join together.
She put her face between his legs. She licked his balls, teasing them with her tongue.
She began to lick the hair of his muscular thighs. She felt the hardness of his flesh on her tongue, and the saline taste of his perspiration.
She licked the insides of his thighs, bringing her tongue closer to his cock and balls, almost licking them, but not quite.
Caroline's tongue played on the sturdy thickness of Joshua's hairy thighs, flicking, twitching, teasing. She did wonderful tricks with her tongue on his heated skin.
She moved her hand from his chest and brought it between his legs. She had two hands between his legs, and she firmly planted one on each thigh. She gently forced his thighs apart and buried her entire face in the dark vise of his legs.
Joshua felt Caroline's hot tongue lapping wetly on his thighs. Then he felt her head bury deeper between his legs.
She tightened her hold on his thighs, coaxed him to move his body slightly.
He felt her tongue on his buttocks.
Caroline advanced her tongue to the dark hairy crack of his ass. He felt her hot mouth licking in his ass crack, the tip of her tongue teasing his anus.
The sensation of her hot wet tongue on his asshole made Joshua's prick stiffen even harder. He could see it in the mirror, protruding proudly from his body. It was excited beyond perpendicularity. It stood up tall and fully vertical between his legs.
He could see Caroline's head in the mirror. He could not see her eyes, or any part of his face. But he knew that her face was pressed between his legs and that her beautiful moist lips were dedicated to eating the dark hairy exterior of his asshole. He felt her tongue teasing the puckering flesh of his sensitive ass. He felt her soft blonde hair brush against his balls and her skull moved to rim his ass.
Caroline moved one hand from his thigh to grab his balls. She had felt them on her skull, and the heavy sperm-filled weight of them was pleasurable.
She pressed his balls harder against the cornsilk of her blonde hair, grinding his male flesh against her head.
Joshua moved a hand to her beautiful shining blonde hair. He selected a strand of it and followed it with his hand from the roots to the end. He took the full length of it in his fingers and coiled it around his balls.
The texture of her beautiful hair felt good on his nuts. The gold of her hair against the darker flesh of his balls, mixed with the coarse black hair of his bag, looked good to his eyes.
He took another strand of her hair and coiled it around his tall standing cock.
He made spirals around his dick, wrapping its throbbing flesh her silky fragrant hair.
Her hair glimmered in the light of the airplane bathroom, and he tightened the coils around his cock.
Joshua took Caroline's head in his hand, moved it from his ass to his cock.
"Suck," he said. He needed her mouth on his urgent rod. Caroline took him obediently. She wanted his cock in her mouth again. She lowered her head all the way down the throbbing length of his shaft, taking him all the way.
She stretched her mouth wide to trace his cock down to the root. She felt it filling her mouth. She felt it in her throat. She sucked hard and took more of it. She felt the root of his cock throb against her lips. She felt the coarseness of his black pubic wire on her tongue.
She reached for his balls, trying to force them with his cock into her hot hungry mouth. But they would not fit; her mouth was already too full of his cock. There was no room for more. She could not possibly take one more centimeter of his horny male meat.
Her mouth full of his cock, rubbing the juices of his asshole into the hot sweating skin of his tall standing rod, Caroline felt Joshua's hand on her skirt.
He reached in back for the clasp. He undid it. He unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her milky thighs, feeling the texture of her pantyhose on his hand.
Caroline wiggled her body, freeing her legs of the skirt. She stepped out of it.
Caroline had nothing on but her shoes and pantyhose. Her blouse and skirt were on the floor, and her body was ready to be fucked. She felt herself dripping in anticipation of Joshua's invasion.
Joshua poked his fingers through the hole he had made in her hose. He had easy access to her hot cunt and her excited clit. He felt the syrup of her pussy nectar on his fingers.
He scooped out some of her hot sweet juices, coating his fingers with her flaming female brandy.
Watching her head working up and down the length of his cock, Joshua brought his fingers to his mouth. He inserted his fingers into his mouth and tasted the juices of Caroline's cunt. They were warm in his mouth, and tasted like sweet, salty cream. Her cunt juice tasted so good in her mouth that he could not wait to get his cock all the way into her hot juicy hole. He knew that he pussy would grab onto his dick.
He was going to fuck her.
He reached for Caroline's hair and pulled her mouth from his cock, pulling gently by the long glistening blonde locks.
He took her neck in his hands and lifted her body from the floor. He made her stand.
Grabbing her slender waist in his hands he turned her body around in the small room.
He turned her back to the sink and raised her body up on the steel counter. Her ass rested on the edge of the tiny sink.
Caroline felt Joshua's hands prying her legs apart. She looked down at the girth of his mighty, tall-standing fuck stick.
As she reached out to touch it, she felt Joshua's fingers quickly invade her hole. She felt him digging in her cunt, scooping out more of her hot gushing pussy juice.
She saw him extract his hand, and she stared in amazement at the glistening wetness of his fingers. She could see the syrup of her cunt on his fingers, and she marveled at the way it caught the harsh light of the airplane lavatory. His fingers glistened with her generous hot cunt juice.
"Taste yourself," Joshua said, bringing his fingers to Caroline's mouth, "taste the juices of the hot hole I am "going to fuck." Caroline opened her mouth to accept the gift Joshua was giving her. She licked his fingers clean of her steaming pussy cream, relishing the taste of her own hot flow.
"Fuck me," she moaned.
She leaned forward, extending her hand to grab Joshua's hard butt. She pulled his body gently forward, pressing against his hairy ass to coax his cock into her cunt. She was anxious to feel his invasion. She wanted her hole to be full of his horny manhood.
She felt the head of his cock against the opening of her cunt.
She reached down for his rod and made a tight fist around it. She felt the veins throbbing in her hand and she guided him deep into her hole.
The head of his cock disappeared in her cunt. She felt the thickness of his circumference tearing into her wet flesh, stretching the sensitive tissues.
His attack, however urgently she needed it, caused her some pain. Joshua had a big hard cock and her pussy felt the violence of it The walls of her cunt stung with pain as he pushed himself deeper into her, but she also tingled and burned with pleasure and lust.
They began to fuck slowly in the airplane lavatory.
Joshua struggled to force his cock deeper into her hole. He had buried the head and part of the long column, but inches of his cock remained in the cold, yearning for the heat of her cunt's embrace. Despite the pain Caroline wanted more. She pressed more demandingly against his hard ass, forcing his meat into her.
She grabbed his balls and made a tight violent fist around them, squeezing hard, pulling them closer to the gate of her hot hole, wanting him to fill her totally with his big cock.
"Fuck me," she moaned, "please, please, fuck!"
Joshua inched forward, conquering more of her dark territory. He punched his cock into her hole and felt her pussy walls grabbing onto his stick, squeezing it with wonderful warm tension.
He pushed his cock deeper and deeper into her hot cunt, and finally he felt his pubic hairs crash against her soft flesh. He was all the way in, and he began to fuck her.
He pulled his cock out until he could see the circular wedge of flesh around the head. He pushed all the way back in, slamming his rock-hard pole into her cunt, filling her with it, stuffing her with his potency.
"Ahh," Caroline moaned, loving it.
He banged in and out of her hot box, slapping his balls against her milky white buttocks.
He saw her eyes glazing over with the pleasure of the fuck he was giving her. She tossed her head back and her beautiful long blonde hair spread out on the gleaming steel counter.
He grabbed her head in his hands and brought it close to his own. He pressed her lips against his mouth and buried his tongue inside her, kissing her hard.
Caroline felt the roughness of his face against her tender cheeks. His skin was hard with the stubble of a half-day's rapid beard growth. It stung slightly as he ground his lips against hers and buried his tongue in her mouth. But despite the sting, the burning and scratching, it felt good. It reminded her of the sensations of her father's kisses when he would come into her room in the early morning, sitting on her bed in his robe and giving her the first kiss of the day.
She loved the heat of Joshua's tongue in her mouth, the heat of their mouths together and his huge cock fucking her cunt.
She felt him pushing and pulling between her legs, banging in, filling her hole, then withdrawing, leaving her for a long hungry moment, making her anxious and desperate for his plunging return.
She wrapped one hand around the back of his head, forcing his mouth closer to hers, forcing his tongue all the way into her. With her other hand she squeezed his balls, rejoicing in the size and weight and hardness of them in her palm. They filled her hand wonderfully, and she tightened her fist around them, squeezing them hard, loving them for the blasts of hot sperm they were going to release into her cunt.
As his huge cock slid in and out of her pussy, her clit trembled with joy. She could feel the thick base of his great cock throbbing against the center of her womanhood, each humping thrust thrilled her cunt and clit, and she felt her orgasm begin its miraculous dance in her body and being. It rose in her being like a chant, flooding her life with celebration.
Joshua could see her beautiful white back in the mirror. He watched the way her soft ass quivered to the rhythm of their fucking. She humped her undulate ass, moving her pelvis in tune to his accelerating fuck strokes.
He reached for her legs, grabbing them by the ankles. He spread them further apart and lifted them higher, making them embrace the trunk of his humping body.
As he spread and raised her legs above his chest, Caroline's body moved to his force. Her torso rocked backward and her shoulders pressed against the mirrored wall of the lavatory. Her ass lowered into the sink, and she felt the cold metal pressing against her buttocks.
A few beads of water made her nylon covered body wet.
Caroline's hole was now positioned in a perfect angle for fucking. Joshua arched his feet, raising his body higher to bang his cock into her cunt.
He rammed his hard cock into her pussy, fucking faster than before. He felt her hand squeezing his balls.
Caroline took her other hand from his head and lowered it to his hammering butt. She pushed his body deeper into her hole, forcing his dick as deep and far into her cunt as possible.
"Fuck my cunt," she said, no longer moaning, but urgently demanding him to give her all of his potency.
Joshua reached for her ass. He grabbed it in both hands, feeling the soft undulate flesh in his grasp. He lifted her ass from the metal basin and pressed her body closer to his, burying his fuck rod all the way in her deep dark cunt.
He felt the furnace of her pussy clinging to his fucking cock.
He pushed her body by the ass closer to his humping maleness, grinding her cunt against him, fucking her hard.
Caroline raised her hand and lowered it quickly on his ass, smacking his hairy buttocks with her hand, spanking him.
"Fuck my cunt with your big cock," she said, her voice a little too loud.
Joshua dropped her ass back in the sink and resumed fucking her from the same perfect angle.
He stiffened his entire body and raced his long hard cock in and out of her hot wet cunt, fucking her savagely in the airplane lavatory. He fucked her cunt hard and vigorously, banging his cock into her wanting flesh, pulling it out and making her hunger for his violent return.
"Cunt!" he said, barking lewdly at the young woman whose hole was full of his fuck rod. "you fucking cunt, I'm going to kill you with my cock."
"Yes, fuck me hard," she said.
They could feel the airplane drifting through the sky, the engine vibrating, sending shudders between their thrashing legs. Their groins were burning with their electric flames of the hot horny fuck.
Suddenly, they felt a terrifying rise and fall of the aircraft. The plane shook and bumped in the violent air.
They were going through turbulence. The rapid movement of the aircraft made Joshua's body lurch violently into Caroline's cunt.
"Jesus," Caroline shouted in panic and pleasure.
"It's nothing," Joshua said, feeling his huge cock pulse in the depths of her hot wet pussy, calming the young girl.
"No, Jesus, we're going to crash," she screamed, "Oh, my God! Help!"
Her voice was much too loud now. They might be overheard.
Joshua covered her mouth quickly with his hand, but she continued to scream incoherently, terrified, excited, swooning with fear and ecstasy.
"Shut up, cunt!" he said, "nothing's wrong. Just be quiet and keep moving your cunt on my cock."
"No, oh, no! We have to stop! We're going to die." She said, stupefied with fright and the sensation of his huge dick in her cunt.
Joshua slammed his cock into her.
"If we're going to die, we might just as well die fucking. There's no reason to stop." He said.
Caroline kept screaming in panic through the suffocating pressure of his hand over her mouth. She tried to shout through it for help and she breathed frantically through her nostrils. He punched his cock into her cunt, banging her hole with his iron hard tool.
Caroline thrilled to the violence of his thrusting and the force of his hand over her mouth. But her pleasure was mixed with the sheer terror of crashing or going up in flames. She tightened her fist around his balls, squeezing them for security.
Again, the plane rose and fell mightily in the dark sky. The air was choppy and the plane bumped and swayed frightfully in the night.
Suddenly, the lights went out in the lavatory.
Caroline could see nothing. She could not even make out Joshua's face. She could only feel his cock fucking her cunt, racing in and out of her body, pounding violently into her flesh, banging the open wound of her pussy. And she felt the terrifying, uncontrolled movements of the aircraft, rising and falling and swaying in the sky, thousands of feet above the earth.
She began to scream in panic, but Joshua pressed his hand harder against her mouth, stifling her sounds.
Terrified she squeezed harder than ever on his balls and tightened her fist around them. She felt the huge cock in her cunt, fucking her wildly.
"Ladies and Gentleman," she heard the stewardess speak over the sound system, "we are experiencing a change in cabin altitude and are passing through air turbulence. We are having some brief mechanical difficulty. There is no cause for alarm, but the captain has turned on the 'Fasten Seat Belt' sign. Please fasten your seat belts and return your chairs and tray tables to their full upright position."
"Oh, my God!" Caroline mumbled in terror through Joshua's muffling hand.
"Shut up, cunt," he said. He arched his feet, stiffened his body, and banged his hard cock brutally into her cunt, fucking her bestially, trying to knock some sense into her.
She felt his mouth on her tits, his cock hard in her cunt, and his balls tensing in her tightening fist.
"Squeeze my balls hard, cunt," he said, demanding cooperation.
Despite her fear and the terrifying shaking of the aircraft, Caroline felt unbearable sensations of pleasure mounting between her legs. She was getting well fucked and orgasm was building inevitably to shattering peaks between her legs, thrilling her cunt and her clit.
Thrilling them to death, she thought, as she felt Joshua bucking her body brutally, killing her with his hard violent fucking. One way or another she was going to die. She knew it in her heart and felt it in her cunt.
It was dark and terrifying in the small room, and Caroline was suddenly alarmed to hear a rattling noise.
Someone was trying to turn the doorknob.
"Please, return to your seat immediately." It was the stewardess.
Caroline could say nothing through the strong pressure of Joshua's hand over her mouth.
Joshua made no sound. He just pushed his cock further into Caroline's hole. He kept one hand over her mouth, and with the other he reached into the fold of her flesh to touch her clit.
Caroline felt his fingertip against her hot pleasure berry. She nearly fainted with total ecstasy. She felt orgasm rushing to its explosive pinnacle in her body. She was going to explode any second.
She was going to explode with Joshua's huge cock in her cunt. Her pussy and her clit were going to shatter into a million burning pieces as the plane exploded in flames. She knew that the fragments of her thrilled body and the scraps of the exploded plane would plummet to earth together.
The noise on the doorknob became quicker and more insistent.
"Please, return to your seat. This turbulence could be serious. I don't mean to alarm you, but we have temporarily lost one of the engines. You must go back to your seat this instant and fasten your safety belt."
Joshua heard the stewardess, but just barely. His total attention was focused on fucking. He felt Caroline's pussy grabbing onto his thrusting cock. She was squeezing his fuck rod hard in her cunt and grabbing his balls urgently in her fist.
He humped her hot hole frantically, fucking her as fast and hard as he could.
"Squeeze my balls hard," he said, "I'm going to cum in your hot cunt."
"Are you alright in there?" The stewardess called, "is anything wrong. Why aren't you answering me. I'm going to go get the captain."
Joshua was fucking so hard he could barely hear the stewardess. But he had understood something about getting the captain.
"No, it's alright. I'm just a little dizzy. This turbulence in making me sick, but I'll be fine in a second."
He rammed harder in Caroline's juicy cunt, feeling his orgasm building in his loins. His balls were hard with the need to shoot his sperm deep into her hot hole.
"You must come out, anyway, sir," the stewardess said. "I will go get the captain to help you."
"No, don't bother," Joshua roared, feeling his orgasm building, getting ready to release his scalding sperm from his gnarled, toughened balls.
The stewardess made no reply. She had already left, in search of the captain.
"Fuck," Joshua roared in pleasure.
He hammered his hard cock into Caroline's wet and steaming pussy.
"Ahh," Caroline groaned through Joshua's covering hand, nibbling at his fingers, feeling ecstasy seize control of her consciousness.
Joshua grabbed her tit and squeezed it hard. He lowered his face to bite her rigid nipple. All of his mouth engulfed her sex-flushed tits, and he tasted the delicacy of her breast as it filled his hungry mouth.
The airplane jumped higher in the air, then dropped quickly, shaking the plane terribly.
Caroline quivered in terror as Joshua gobbled her tit and banged his fuck meat deeper into her convulsing cunt.
He pressed his finger hard on the button of her clit, thrilling her and making ecstasy overwhelm her fear.
Joshua heard a loud pounding on the door.
"I don't know if this man is alright, captain," the stewardess said outside the door.
"I will have to force this open," a man's voice said. "We have to get him out of here and back into his seat."
Caroline was trembling with fear and overpowering joy. Her clit thrilled to the strong pressure of Joshua's expert finger, and her cunt rejoiced at the enormity of his big fucking cock banging the life out of her.
Joshua punched his cock all the way into her dark female depth and felt his balls convulse with orgasm.
His sperm flooded out of his balls and blasted up the hard length of his cock. He ground his fuck meat into her hole, stabbing the very bottom of her pussy pit with the head of his cock.
"Ahh," Caroline moaned, feeling his hot sperm blast into her burning hole, searing her delicate tissues with his ferocious potency. Joshua could vaguely hear her moan through his hard-pressing hand over her mouth.
"Jesus," he roared uncontrollably, feeling the last blast of cum splash from his cock into her hole.
"Are you alright, sir," the stewardess asked.
Joshua collapsed against Caroline, weak with the outpouring of his cum load.
"Fine," he said, pressing his finger hard against Caroline's clit, thrusting his exploded cock deep into her hole.
"Ahh," Caroline moaned in ecstasy, feeling the delicious swooning of her cunt and clit. "Come, cunt!" Joshua whispered, "we have to get out of here,"
"I am, just keep your cock in me and your finger on my clit," she whispered, almost inaudible.
Joshua performed rapid manual magic on Caroline's clit-berry, pressing, rubbing deliciously.
"Ahh," she moaned in orgasmic bliss, "ummm."
"Are you coming, cunt?" Joshua whispered, quickening the dexterous movements of his finger on her flaming, coming clit.
"Ahh," she moaned again, unable to tell him of the total ecstasy that was overwhelming her being.
Caroline felt the shocking volts of orgasm cascade through her inflamed flesh. Her cunt and clit popped and shattered into millions of glittering jewels
Heat and passion swept violently through her body, exploding every fiber of her being, burning, killing and restoring her.
She humped her box against Joshua's fingers, banging her body against him. She felt his huge cock in her cunt and his expert fingers strumming the sweet, silent harp of her happy clit.
"Sweet Holy God," she screamed in frenzy, "I'm coming, Oh, Jesus, HELP! AHH! I'm CUMMINNNGH!"
Her voice roared, out of control, mindless with the dynamite sensation of her total, overpowering climax.
"Fuck, baby," Joshua said
"AHH! FUCK!" Caroline roared, swooning with the final convulsion of her world-shattering orgasm.
At that moment the lights went on again in the lavatory and throughout the aircraft.
Joshua was startled by Caroline's sex-flushed face and by the sight of his sperm oozing from her cunt, in which his cock was still firmly entrenched.
They had deliriously spent themselves in the secret chamber of the enormous aircraft. The power of their lust had survived the failure of the plane's power. They had flown with then: own engines to heights hitherto unsealed by man.
Joshua and Caroline were so enraptured by their lust, so lost in their post-orgasmic trance that they could hardly hear the captain's slightly amused voice.
"Alright, certain problems seem to be over. But other passengers might want to use the facilities. Please return at your earliest convenience to your seat. Or should I say, your seats?"
Joshua strummed lightly on Caroline's exploded clit, caressing the delicate berry gently with his finger.
He took her undulant ass in his hands and scooped her body from the small metal sink.
He pressed her soft, contented body against his own, ground the long hose of his cock one last time into the depths of her cunt.
Then he withdrew it from her body, breaking their delicious union.
"That, honey, was a first class fuck," he said.
Caroline smiled blissfully.
Pressing his lips against her naked tits, Joshua retrieved her blouse and skirt from the floor.
As she accepted them from his hand, Caroline sweetly reached down for his trousers, pulling them up his strong sturdy thighs. Almost reluctantly she took the metal tab of his zipper in her hand. Stuffing his cock and balls into the smugness of his charcoal pants, she zipped them away from her sight and touch.
She looked at his now covered crotch. Now she knew what that kind of crotch was really like. Her father had the same kind of crotch. She wondered if her father's cock was as mighty as Joshua's. She wondered if his balls were as heavy and his blast of sperm as hot and generous. She certainly hoped so, and she rather suspected that her father was a man very like the wonderful specimen who had just fucked her so superbly.
Caroline dressed and returned to her seat. Joshua followed.
They sat happily together, enjoying another cognac and more of each other's inspired and scintillating conversation.
Soon they saw the bright lights of Los Angeles, miles and miles of lights shining through layers of familiar smog.
Caroline felt doubly happy. She had enjoyed a glorious fuck miles above the earth, a fuck that had taken her to heaven.
She had landed safely on her native turf. Even inside the plane she could almost smell the moist, torrid and curiously ever-fresh air of Los Angeles. She was terribly excited and thoroughly over-joyed.
She couldn't wait to see her father and her brother.
CHAPTER THREE
"Daddy!" Caroline called merrily over the thick throng of people who crowded the arrival gate at the Los Angeles airport.
But her father did not recognize her at first. There were so many passengers crawling out of the plane, exhausted from the long flight, or barely awakened from their slumber.
Then she caught her father's eye, and she saw his face break into an enormous smile.
They fought through the crowd, Caroline slinking between turgid, slow-moving bodies, her father impatiently moving them aside like a bovine herd or a mass of insensate obstacles.
"My angel," he said, taking her in his strong embrace.
"Daddy, I'm so glad to see you," she said, almost weeping for joy.
"You're a good sight for tired eyes, sweetheart," he said.
Caroline hugged her father tightly, unable to get enough of him.
Reluctantly, they broke their embrace and walked together along the endless length of the concourse.
Caroline was euphoric. She babbled happily about her semester, about papers she had written, exams she had taken.
It was not until they were in the baggage-claim area that she noticed the absence of Carl, the brother she adored madly.
"That's mine," she said, pointing to an enormous scarlet suitcase that had already gone twice around the carrousel, "and that, too," she said, indicating a smaller, matching overnight case.
She had been too excited to notice that all four of her suitcases, which were filled with clothes and books, had been almost the first pieces of luggage off the plane.
"Daddy, where's Carl?" she asked, as she helped her father remove the suitcases from the carrousel.
"He's sorry he couldn't come. He's up in San Francisco seeing your mother." Her father said.
Caroline found herself looking at her father's crotch, mesmerized.
She did not say anything.
"Caroline," her father said, "are you alright. You don't seem quite all here."
He looked at his daughter's face and could plainly see that she was staring between his legs. It was natural for a seventeen-year-old girl to glance at a man's crotch.
Simon Carlisle felt his cock flex like a muscle inside his charcoal trousers. It was tantalizing to think of Caroline, his little girl, becoming a full-fledged woman; it was almost impossible to believe that his angelic daughter was blossoming into a card-carrying cunt.
He found himself wondering what kind of pussy his little girl had.
"Caroline," her father repeated.
"What," she said, bestirred from her reverie, "I was just admiring your pants. They're nice. What were you saying?"
"Carl is in San Francisco," her father told her again.
"Right," she said, "I heard you. With mother. How is mother?" Caroline asked, not giving a damn.
Simon thought he detected hostility in his daughter's voice. Not toward himself, but toward her mother. He could not blame her; Muriel, his ex-wife and Carl and Caroline's absentee mother, was a real card-carrying cunt. She was a cunt who did everything short of charge admission and a cover charge. Simon had unloaded her all too happily, and without alimony, when he caught her with another man. It had taken him a long time to collect the evidence, although he had known for years that Muriel was the biggest tramp to be found anyway. She was the best-known cocksucker of Wilshire Boulevard, the dirtiest cunt on the street whose gutters were endless, the slimiest twat on one of the longest streets in the world.
Or she had been, until she began to suffocate in the contamination of her life and all the seething bacteria of her overly public cunt. Muriel had wisely gotten out of Los Angeles, where she was too well known. Her reputation had begun to smell too strong even for her. She had taken her twat to San Francisco. Simon knew she would rot there, too. She would contaminate everything she touched. She would not last in San Francisco. It was too small a town; she would go through it too quickly. Reputations, good and bad, grow faster than weeds in San Francisco. If she lasted there, she would burn out, sizzle to death in the tawdry heat of her foul odors.
"She's all right, I suppose. We don't keep in touch, really," Simon said.
"I know, and just as well, too. She's bad news. I don't know why Carl went to see her. I don't care if I never see her again."
"Well, for better or for worse, Caroline, she is your mother." her father said.
"Who cares?" Caroline said, "she's a bitch."
Simon shrugged, "No, she isn't a bitch," he said, "she's a cunt."
Caroline laughed, "You know more about that than I do."
Simon smiled despite himself, "I shouldn't have said that," he said, "after all, she is your mother."
"Yes, the cunt is my mother. To my eternal chagrin. But don't feel badly about what you said. Sometimes if you speak no evil, you speak no truth."
"Do they teach you how to spout epigrams in college?" Her father asked, "in my day they taught nothing but football and figures,"
"They taught you that because you were destined to become an athletic hustler," Caroline chided.
"Agent, Caroline. I am an agent, not a hustler," her father said.
"Same difference," Caroline said.
"Maybe," her father said.
Simon directed the porter to the car.
Caroline looked at the jade-green convertible sports car. She had not seen it before. She liked it, and it looked wickedly expensive.
"Nifty," she said.
"Do you like it?" her father asked.
"Of course, it's boffo, as they say. When did you get it.
Simon tipped the porter and slammed the trunk. "Today," he said.
"Perfect timing," Caroline said.
"Do you want to drive?" he asked.
"No, no. Your car, you drive. I don't know if I can drive here anymore. I might have lost my knack with the freeways." She said.
"You never had one," he father smiled, "but I thought you might like to learn. Actually, I bought this for you."
"This?" she said, surprised.
"Yes," he said.
"You mean it's mine?" She asked.
"Sure, if you want it."
"Of course I do," Caroline said, "Daddy it's so sweet of you. Thank you." Caroline put her hands around her father's neck and planted a kiss on his lips.
Simon felt his daughter's lips on his own, and was surprised to feel her mouth opening to receive his tongue. He put his arms around her and they french kissed for a long minute in the parking lot.
Caroline broke this kiss, only slightly embarrassed.
"Are you certain that you don't want to drive? There isn't that much traffic at three in the morning."
"No, not yet. I want you to drive us home, Daddy." Caroline said.
Her father opened the door for her gallantly, closed it and walked around the front of the car. Caroline watched his masculine, leonine grace. At thirty-seven her father was in better shape than many of the college boys she knew. He had kept his body strong and fit through years of constant swimming and tennis. She loved the sight of her father's fine body in his white tennis shorts. She loved the way his legs moved swiftly over the court, and the lines his body made when he hit the ball over the net. She never tired of watching her father play tennis, and he would always be her favorite opponent, although she was often too dazed by the spectacular lines of his body, the definition of his muscular chest and powerful arms, to play her best game.
As Simon climbed over the door of the open convertible, Caroline could smell her father's male scent. She watched the way his legs moved athletically, and she caught herself focusing again on his charcoal crotch, even though she knew she shouldn't. She imagined the crotch as being the source of the powerful, musky fragrance of his animal virility, and she felt, despite herself, a tingle in her cunt, that had been so well fucked only a few hours ago in the locked lavatory. She realized now that she had been so hugely attracted to Joshua primarily because he bore such an uncanny resemblance to her beloved father.
She breathed deeply, filling her body with the scent of her father. It was stronger than the leather upholstery of the car, and stronger than the curious fragrance of the warm Los Angeles smog.
Caroline was glad that her father had not pressed her to drive. He understood that she was excited to be home and that she wanted to enjoy her first moments without the distraction of driving. It was a long drive from the airport to their house on Wilshire Boulevard and the fringe of Beverly Hills, and Caroline wanted to talk to her father, to look at him, and to indulge in her private, secret thoughts.
They made their exit from the enormous parking lot and her father made a fast turn onto the freeway.
Caroline felt the warm air racing through her hair. Her long blonde tresses flew high, fanned out in the air they raced through together.
"Business is good, I assume. It must be if you can buy such a nice welcome home present for me," Caroline said.
"Not bad," her father said.
"Any interesting new clients?" she asked, wanting to give her father a chance to talk about herself.
"Well, I handle Carlotta Craig now," her father said, a tone of caution in his voice.
Caroline was silent for a moment. "So I read. I do look at the trades sometimes, you know."
Simon knew that his daughter was referring to the story in one of the big industry papers two or three weeks ago. It had been a gossipy story, alleging that Simon Carlisle was devoting all his professional time to Carlotta Craig at the expense of his other clients. It had also suggested that Simon was investing a significant amount of non-professional time. It even went so far as to imply that the relationship between Simon and Carlotta was unprofessional in more than one sense, and that the agent was handling his client in just about every way known to man. Snidely, the article had given Simon's age, 37, and Carlotta's, 22.
"She's an important client, Caroline. Her last film made a fortune and this week her new single is number three with a bullet." Simon said defensively.
"An important client isn't so unusual. Whoever wrote that story wasn't talking about revenues," Caroline said.
"Frankly, Caroline, I need a big client. I've had a lot of has-beens and two bit character actors on my hands for years. You know that I take a talent on the basis of some kind of belief, some kind of instinct that they'll turn out to be something. But my instincts have been leading me astray for a while. I need a big client. Some of the people I've got are hopeless. I can't even get them a part in a porno film. Carlotta's hot now; she's on top, and is going to stay there for a long time. She's a phenomenal talent, and she has a fabulous career in front of her." Simon said.
"If anyone can work with her. I've read that she castrates actors, infuriates directors, tells the cinematographer what to do. Half the crew walked out on her last picture; it's a miracle it was ever finished. I don't care what you say, no one is talented or successful enough to get away with that kind of arrogant shit."
Simon listened to his daughter. He had heard it all before. "Carlotta is. She can get away with almost anything. She's only difficult to work with because she's a perfectionist. She doesn't just care about the reproduction of her voice or the way she looks; she cares about the entire film."
"God, it must be true. That article must be right. You're so defensive about the little tramp. I guess you must be infatuated with her."
"She is not a tramp, Caroline. Compared to most of the trash in this town she's pure snow."
"If a dog is shitting in it," Caroline said, "I'm sure you could cast Carlotta in all the pornos you wanted. I bet she made a few when she was starting out," Caroline said.
"She has legitimate theatre experience. You know that." Simon said.
"Sure, sure," Caroline laughed, a little jealous of her father's involvement with the famous singer and actress, but not terribly emotional about it one way or the other. As long as he could spend plenty of time with her this summer Caroline didn't mind if he had a few meaningless fucks with Carlotta.
"Anyway, why are we talking about her. I haven't seen you in months and we waste all out time talking about some client you happen to be fucking."
"I want to talk about her, Caroline," her father said seriously.
Caroline heard the tone in her father's voice. It was the tone she had heard many times before, the tone he always used when he was about to tell her something important. It was the tone he had used when he first told her that he was divorcing her mother, the tone she had heard in his voice when he told her that he wanted her to go to college back east, to experience a new world, to live something other than the tawdry film-world life.
Caroline knew that her father was about to tell her something, and she knew that she did not want to hear it.
She made light of her dread. "So tell me, is it serious?"
Her father heard her struggling to accept the news she knew he was going to give her. In a way he hated to tell her. It was inevitable that she would be jealous. She had been the only woman in his life for four years.
Simon dead-panned, "Let's just say we're good fucks."
Caroline laughed weakly at her father's joke. Ordinarily she would have appreciated the twist on the hackneyed Hollywood line, but to be actually confronted by the knowledge of her father's cock in another woman's cunt made her miserable. She wanted to cry, to be comforted, and she wanted to kill him for betraying her.
"Tell me," she said, almost in a whisper, "tell me the truth. Be straight with me."
"All right, we're living together." Her father said.
"Where?" Caroline asked, astonished. She had no idea it had come to that.
"At the house," Simon said. Caroline could barely absorb her father's words. The idea of another woman in their house was unacceptable to her. It was altogether appalling. Jesus, it would be worse than having Muriel around.
"I don't want to see her," Caroline said, "not yet."
"You are going to have to see her. You won't have to tonight. She's due at the sound stage tomorrow at seven in the morning and she's sleeping now. But we are all having dinner tomorrow. Carl will be back tomorrow. We'll all go to that French place you like. The one on Sunset. What's the name of it?"
"I don't remember," Caroline said dejectedly, "La Ennui," I think, or something else like that."
They were almost home, but now Caroline was crushed. She hated the idea of Carlotta Craig sleeping in her father's bed, sucking her father's cock. She almost wished she were still on the plane, getting fucked brutally by Joshua. She wished this moment had not happened. She wished she were still happy, still looking forward to the reunion with her father, rather than disappointed, pissed off and dumped into despair.
She slouched back in the seat of the car her father had bought for her. It gave her no pleasure. He had bought it as a token, a compensation. He had bought it out of guilt, knowing that his news would hurt her. What a fool he was to think that a scrap of metal could appease the ache she felt over his betrayal.
"Are you going to marry her?" Caroline asked, thinking that at least marriage was out of the question, and that some things were still alright with the world. She would outlive Carlotta in her father's heart.
"Yes," Simon said.
"Oh, shit!" she hissed, feeling a tear flooding in her eye and stinging her cheeks.
She wanted to drive this car into the swimming pool and drown.
She did not say anything. The father and daughter drove in silence.
The house on Wilshire Boulevard looked the same. The lawn looked the same, and the front door. But the moment she entered Caroline could discern a difference.
There was a different smell. It smelled of a woman's perfume. Specifically, it smelled of the french perfume that Carlotta wore. It was impossible to open a magazine without seeing the full page advertisement of Carlotta's face, her neck, her earrings and her fingertips. In the advertisement she was supposedly dabbing the perfume on her neck, looking unbelievably gorgeous in a typically glamorous sort of way.
Caroline could hardly breathe. The patchouli was everywhere. It pervaded the foyer, the living room, the dining room. She could smell it in the stairwell as she went up to her room. The beautiful fragrance of the fresh flowers her father had purchased for her arrival was completely drowned out. Caroline wanted to get out of the house, to take a swim and breathe the fresh, smoggy air. But she was certain that Carlotta had filled the pool with the perfume. There was no escape from it.
She was not in the mood to unpack. She was too tired and too distressed. She wanted to go to bed, forget for a while that this had happened, and awaken refreshed in the morning. When she was fresh she would be able to think about this situation, what to do about it, how to remedy it and get her father back. She stripped off her clothes, pealing the shirt and blouse from her body. She examined her nakedness in the full length mirror, inspecting her budding breasts and her soft blonde jungle of pubic hair. She admired her body for a minute, remembering the pleasure it had given her on the plane, thinking of all the pleasure it was going to give her this summer. She wished that she could get Simon back with her body. She had no doubt that she was more beautiful than Carlotta, who could not be seen without her false eye lashes, her cheekbones exaggerated by shadow, her artificial coiffures.
Her body was beautiful. She felt herself becoming aroused by her own mirrored image. She could not take her eyes off her beautiful blonde beaver. As she watched herself, she felt a tremble in her pussy. She was beginning to get gloriously wet, and her nipples stiffened as her tits flushed with rapidly flowing blood, excited by an electrical sex current.
But this was nonsense. She had been fucked on the airplane and she thought that such a fuck should suffice for one day. It was nearing four in the morning California time, and by her accustomed eastern schedule it was almost seven. She had not slept and it was technically time to get up already. She had to go to bed.
Caroline turned to her familiar closet to fetch her favorite nightgown. It was a lovely pink sheath of satin and lace that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. She had never taken to school because she felt it belonged at home, in her closet, awaiting her return.
When she opened her closet Caroline was appalled. Dozens of unseen evening clothes, dresses and furs hung in her closet, crowded among the clothes she had not taken to school.
This made her angry. It was the ultimate in poor taste. How dare Carlotta use her closet for the overflow of her wardrobe!! It was unconscionably vulgar. It was bad enough that the slut had moved into the house, but to start scattering her clothes in other people's closets was the end! Caroline would not accept it.
She wanted to confront Carlotta this minute. She would have if she had been fresh and alert herself,, but she wanted to wait until she was in her best fighting form before facing the woman who was stealing her father's affections.
It occurred to her to take all the clothes in her arms, open the sliding glass doors and throw them over the terrace. She could scatter them in the swimming pool the way Carlotta had scattered them in Caroline's closet. It would be no more an outrage.
Caroline could almost smile at the thought of Carlotta awakening in the morning, with the cold cream on her face, having her frugal breakfast in bed, and then going to the window to see dozens of her most expensive garments spread out on the pools surface, ruined forever by water and chlorine. The pool would swallow them up and they would be another part of the starlet's sordid past.
But Caroline would not do it tonight. She would think of a better way to get even with Carlotta.
She could not possibly sleep. She was too insulted, too bitter and resentful to sleep.
She almost tore the pink negligee from the hanger, wrapped it sulkily around her naked body and loosed at herself again in the mirror.
There was no doubt about it. She was a beautiful young woman.
But at the moment she was a wretchedly unhappy little girl.
Caroline lit a cigarette, opened the glass doors and walked out onto the terrace, wanting to breathe.
The terrace ran the length of the house. There were stairs to the garden and pool below, but tonight Caroline did not want to swim or walk in the garden. Not yet. She was happy on the terrace.
Three bedrooms faced the garden, her father's, Carl's and her own. All the rooms had access to the terrace. Whenever she wanted to be alone or have privacy, when she wanted to masturbate, Caroline had to draw the shades and drapes over the glass doors of her room, as her father or Carl were apt to walk past on their way from their bedrooms to the pool. She always resented it a little, because she liked to jerk herself off with the daylight streaming through the trees and the glass, flooding her room. But she had been caught once, years ago, by Carl, when the sheets were kicked to the foot of the bed, her legs spread in abandon and her fingers dancing on her clit.
Now she was more cautious.
Carl had simply smiled on his way down the stairs to the pool, but Caroline had been almost mortified with embarrassment. She had been glad that Carl, not her father, had caught her in the act of herself love.
It was warm tonight. Caroline felt revived on the terrace. Away from the cloying odors of the perfume that had pervaded the house, Caroline realized that she could handle the situation. She could handle Carlotta.
Her mind began to clear and she inhaled on her cigarette. The tar, the nicotine, all the things that had been determined as dangerous, forbidden and no-no, soothed her. She gleaned a strength from the cigarette and from the unhealthy Los Angeles air on which she thrived.
It was warm in the wonderful way that is peculiar to southern California. The heat was not like the heat of the east coast, which can instill a kind of frenzy or madness. The Los Angeles heat instilled only a lazy sense of peace; it convinced one that everything in the world could go wrong but that none of it would matter. The air could be filled with a million warning signals, even an invitation to panic, but Caroline felt arrogantly certain that everything would turn out for the best and that life would be perennially lovely.
She heard sounds on the terrace. At first she could not trace their origin or identify their quality. Then she realized that they were human sounds. They came from her father's bedroom. They were the human sounds of animal sex.
Her father and Carlotta were fucking.
Quietly, Caroline walked along the terrace toward the glass door of her father's bedroom.
The curtains were closed, but the glass doors were half-open. Caroline could see that the room was dark except for a stream of light pouring from the dressing room adjacent to the bedroom.
Cautiously, Caroline slipped her hand through the curtain, creating a small space through which to view the scene.
The light from the dressing room served almost as a spotlight. It beamed directly on the bed, and Caroline could see the famous coiffure bouncing up and down between her father's legs.
Carlotta was giving her father a blow job.
Caroline could not see Carlotta's face, only the hair and a speck of cold cream on the famous nose. It was inevitable that Carlotta, even when sucking a cock, would perform in profile. It was as though Caroline's voyeuristic eyes were the movie cameras spinning quietly to capture Carlotta's virtuoso performance.
Caroline wished that Carlotta would move her boring photogenic face from her father's cock. Caroline wanted to see what her daddy looked like.
She could see Simon's face, or part of it, half visible, half obscured in the bizarre chiaroscuro lighting. She could see his eyes shut tight, as though he too wanted to block out the sight of the famous woman sucking his cock.
She could see his mouth, twisted in a baffling expression that Caroline could not read. It was part smile, part scowl, expressing both beatitude and chagrin.
"Umm," Caroline heard Carlotta's well known voice. Even when she was sucking cock the bitch seemed to be twirping in the style of Los Vegas showrooms.
"Suck it, cunt," she heard her father growl, "suck my cock."
Caroline saw her father sit up in the bed. She watched his hard stomach muscles rippled as he reached for Carlotta's head, messing her immaculate coiffure.
"God damn you, cunt! You better suck better than that," He grabbed the star's head and pushed it down on his cock.
"Ugh!" Caroline heard Carlotta choking and gagging on Simon's huge man stick.
Caroline saw her father raise a heavy hand in the air and lower it suddenly on Carlotta's bouncing tits.
Carlotta gasped in pain, her mouth too full of cock to utter a truly lyrical scream.
"Suck it," Simon roared, his voice loud, angry and sinister.
"Please, Simon, hurry and come. I have to get some sleep." Carlotta whispered through her cock filled mouth.
"You'll sleep when I feel like letting you sleep, and not before," Simon said, pushing her face further down the length of his cock.
Caroline could see the root of her father's great fuck muscle forcing its way into Carlotta's mouth. It was astounding, the size of her father's cock. She had not seen it all, because much of it was hidden in Carlotta's sucking mouth. But from the huge swollen base of it, and from the amount that she estimated to be hidden in the sucking mouth, Caroline knew that her father's fuck rod was even bigger than Joshua's.
"Keep on sucking, cunt," her father growled again, and Caroline was reminded of the way Joshua had commanded her to take his prick in the airplane lavatory.
Caroline wished that she were in bed with her father. She wished that just for this moment she could be Carlotta, naked and writhing between her father's powerful legs, gulping his big fuck rod in hungry, greedy loving mouthfuls.
Simon grabbed Carlotta's head and pulled her completely off his cock. Caroline saw the entire swollen enormity of her father's cock, standing tall and proudly between his legs.
The sight of her father's huge, blood-bloated cock sent shudders of excitement from her heart to her mind and from her mind to her cunt. She felt her nipples stiffen inside the pink negligee, and, instinctively, she groped inside to feel her own body. Her pussy began to manufacture sweet syrup of excitement. She felt a tropical breeze whisper between her thighs, and she felt hot rains oozing from the angelic cloud of her soft blonde bush, flooded by the warm honey dews of her simmering cunt.
She watched her father's thigh muscles as her moved on the bed, marveling at the animal grace of his movements. She saw his heavy balls swinging between his sturdy, hair-covered thighs. Their size and strong masculine appearance amazed her.
She saw Carlotta turn her head slightly, exposing her three-quarters profile to the camera of Caroline's prurient eyes.
There was no doubt about it: Carlotta's face, in a mysterious way of its own, was as gorgeous as it was famous.
"Sit on my cock," She heard her father command the famous and powerful celebrity.
"Simon, please! If I don't get some sleep I'll be a wreck. I'll be unphotographable. Please, I only have two hours left." Carlotta begged.
"I don't give a shit," her father growled. "I'm going to fuck you in the asshole."
"No, Simon! Jesus! You know I don't do that." Carlotta declared.
"Frankly, cunt, I don't give a shit what you do or don't do. You are going to do what I want you to do." Simon said vindictively.
Caroline watched from the terrace as her father seized Carlotta's hips, lifting her struggling body off the bed.
Caroline saw Carlotta's cunt, her thick pubic jungle, her big well-known tits and her thrashing white thighs. Caroline felt volts of electric excitement tingle explosively in her cunt, knowing that her big stud father was going to sodomize the big ass star.
She saw her father stretch Carlotta out on the bed. Carlotta's lay face down on the satin sheets, her face hanging over the foot of the bed.
Simon pressed Carlotta's body down, pushing her hard against the mattress with his masterful hands.
Caroline watched her father mount Carlotta's milky white body. She saw his massive cock sticking out magnificently from his hairy groin as his powerful thighs straddled Carlotta's pinned body.
Simon arched his body, took his cock in his hands and aimed it ruthlessly as the target of Carlotta's asshole.
"I'm going to fuck the literal shit out of you," Simon said, preparing to stab his cock into the woman's shitbox.
Caroline watched in awe, shock and wild envy. She felt her galvanized cunt burn and boil between her lust-trembling thighs. She reached inside her negligee to soothe her clit with her hands. She felt its hot pink flesh button against her inquisitive fingertip, and she bore down on it for the sake of her life. Her finger felt so good on her clit that the pleasure of watching her father shove his cock into Carlotta's ass was doubled.
"Ouch! Oh, Jesus," Carlotta screamed in agony.
And that was only the beginning, Caroline thought to herself, as she watched her father pressing his cock into the woman's shithole.
She could see that her father had managed to insert only the huge swollen head of his tumescent organ. He had many more inches of hard brutal fuck flesh to stab into her tight wounded hole.
"For God's sake, Simon, use some lubricant at least! You're killing me," Carlotta shrieked in pain.
Caroline could see Carlotta grimace, and the sight of the woman's obvious pain made Caroline's blood boil. She felt hot torrents of excitement rush to her cunt, flooding her hole as it flushed her entire body and made her nipples stiffen unbearably inside her pink negligee.
"I don't give a shit if I'm killing you, cunt! Maybe that's what I want. Maybe I want to fuck you to death. Spread you goddam fucking legs!" Simon barked angrily.
Caroline could see clearly through the open door and the parted curtain. She watched her father's enormous cock dig deeper into Carlotta's hot resisting shit box.
Simon pushed his hard rod farther into Carlotta's asshole, and Caroline watched the big beautiful column of hard male flesh disappear. Her father kept ramming into the writhing woman, who was in unbearable agony, but apparently some pleasure as well. Caroline heard Carlotta's moaning voice. It rose and fell in volume, as though she were performing a ballad, a lullaby and a torch number all at once.
"Please, Simon," Caroline heard Carlotta moan over and over, begging him to stop, begging him never to stop.
Caroline watched her father's huge balls rubbing against the prone woman's soft white asscheeks. He had his cock buried all the way in her butt, and Caroline could see him beginning to fuck the helpless woman.
She watched her father's powerful body humping the prostrate woman. His hard hairy buttocks made hammering motions against Carlotta's body, pounding his thick prick into her hot hole.
Her father looked like a beautiful fucking beast, humping the holy hell out of Carlotta's hole. She watched his body, hammering, humping, thrusting the big stiff dick in and out of the warm gooey embrace of Carlotta's fucked ass.
Caroline could hear Carlotta moaning in pain and sighing in shameless pleasure. Obviously the bitch liked it rough and dirty, but was too hypocritical to admit it. Why deny that you like sex messy and shameful, Caroline wondered, why bother to deny the instincts that would win out in the end?
The sounds of her fastly fucking father made Caroline melt in the fires of her desire. She wanted to be Carlotta, just for this blissful minute in time.
She wanted to be giving her father the kind of ecstasy he was enjoying at this minute by the woman who only half wanted to give it to him.
She wanted to be the body, the cunt, the asshole, the mouth, to receive her father's masterful cock. She wanted to be the hole that he humped and filled with his big virile cock. She wanted to be the pair of soft undulant buns that he rubbed his heavy sperm-filled balls against, and she wanted to absorb the hot jets of his cum, the scorching virile seed that had given her life. She wanted to drink her father's sperm from the source of her paternity.
Caroline heard her humping father's loud bestial growls. He was fucking Carlotta hard, pounding his hard meat into her wounded ass, banging her savagely, screwing her hole without love or mercy.
Simon was giving Carlotta's ass a brutal, lossless fuck.
She stroked her clit wildly as she watched her father accelerate the speed of his forceful humping.
She ground her fingers against her needing flesh, stabbing her clit and digging into her juicy, flooding cunt.
She frigged herself quickly, frantically, in utter desperation. She wanted to come at the very moment her father blasted his hot cum load into Carlotta's asshole.
She was close, excruciatingly near. She felt her loins melt like creamy, salty butter, oozing deliriously in the bowl of her cunt. She felt the hot sweet syrup of her pussy dripping from the gash between her legs, Coating her thighs with its simmering honey, glistening on her blonde muff of angel pubis.
Delirious with pleasure, Caroline let the pink negligee fall from her body to the tiles of the terrace.
She stood naked outside her father's bedroom, watching the animalistic movements of her father's savage fucking.
Caroline flicked frantically at her cunt and clit as she watched Simon bang his cock in and out of Carlotta's ass. His balls slapped against her buttocks and thighs as he bucked his body on the bed, pounding the shit of the woman with his huge hard dick.
"AH, FUCK!" she heard her father growl obscenely with ferocious fucking pleasure.
He held his body stiffly by the arms above Carlotta's body, doing pushups as he forced his cock all the way into her hot hole, drew the long length of it out, and then pounded it ferociously back in.
Caroline watched him slam his cock back and forth, in and out, in, in, deep into the dark smelly depths of Carlotta's asshole.
She pressed hard on her young clit, making herself swoon with female joy. She wanted to close her eyes and imagine that she was helpless under her father's thrashing body, that her ass, her cunt, her mouth, her flesh were all receiving his hard huge cock. She wanted to be fucked by her father's great big cock.
But she could not close her eyes. She could take her eyes off the wonderful sight of her father meanly fucking Carlotta, making the bitch suffer the indignity of being savagely sodomized.
"Ah, you cunt! I'm going to shoot in your asshole!" Simon roared, feeling the storm of his orgasm rising to explosive peaks in his huge balls, racing up the hard iron of his cock, thrilling his massive fuck muscle, spreading masculine lust through his body.
Caroline rammed her fingers into her cunt, stabbed her slit, and smashed her body against the wall of the house, grinding her tits against the stucco, feeling the hard rough texture press against her soft breasts and rigid nipples.
Orgasm soared through her boiling blood, burning her coming tissues.
Millions of pleasure volts exploded in her body, killing her with ecstasy.
"AH, FUCK!" She heard her father grown, "I came in your asshole. Jesus!"
Her father was speaking for her too. They had come together. Wonderfully. Simon had splashed his hot cum in Carlotta's ass, and Caroline had exploded on the terrace, getting off incredibly on the sight of her father's hard fucking body.
Caroline heard Carlotta moaning, probably coming herself, Caroline thought grudgingly. Carlotta did not deserve to share pleasure with Caroline and her father.
But let the bitch come, Caroline thought, deciding that Carlotta's fucks with her father were numbered.
Caroline picked up her pink negligee from the terrace, carried it in her hands to her room. She was too lazy to put it on, and too tired.
She fell naked into her bed, utterly exhausted from her sex-filled evening and morning.
She slept like a baby.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Carl," Caroline called merrily when she saw her brother step from the house onto the patio.
Her brother was wearing a tight white T-shirt and frayed denim cut off's that showed his strong legs.
"Hi," he said, almost bashfully.
"Is that all you have to say to me, 'Hi,' after three months of nothing at all? Come here you sweet thing and give your sister a big sloppy kiss," she said.
Carl walked over to the outdoor chaise on which Caroline was stretched out languidly, wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini.
Carl could see his sister's shapely thighs and her ample tits. Through the tight fabric of her immodest bathing suit he could see her nipples plainly.
"You're looking good," he said.
"Yeah, but I'm white. I definitely look imported from the frigid east. I can't go around looking pale. I need some sun. You're looking good too. You look as though you've grown," she said.
Carl felt distinctly that his sister was staring directly between his legs, sizing up his crotch. He decided that he thought mistakenly, that it only seemed that way to him because lately he had been focusing all his attention on his prick, always looking for a good place to put it. ,
"Maybe I have grown a little," he smiled, "it's probably all the tennis and swimming. It builds the body."
"Sit down. Talk to me for a bit. How were things in San Francisco. How's our wonderful mama?"
"She's being kept by some old fart on Russian Hill. She drinks all day, gets her hair done, eats, sleeps, fucks." Carl said contemptuously.
"In other words," Caroline said, "the bitch hasn't changed. I didn't know she was being kept, though. But I suppose it was inevitable. Fucking is all she's good for, and I don't suppose she's too good even at that. I didn't expect her to get a job and support herself normally. Tell me, what's her stud like?"
"He's not a stud," Carl said, "he's an asshole. He spends all day down on Montgomery Street making money, then he goes to his A.A. meeting, then he comes home, gets drunk with mother and they fuck like pigs."
"Sounds jolly," Caroline said.
She looked at her brother, getting ready for her next question.
"Speaking of assholes," she said, "what do you think of Carlotta?"
"I think she's a dynamite performer," Carl said, cautiously.
"I don't mean that. You don't have to talk like an agent. What do you think of her as a person, as Daddy's concubine?"
"I don't know. I'd like to get into her. She's not bad looking at all. But I get sort of tired of having her around all the time. She and Dad fuck every night and they're always screaming at each other to suck harder, or to fuck faster, or not to fuck at all. Sometimes I can't stand it." He said.
"I can't stand the way this house smells," Caroline said.
"Yes, it does stink of her perfume." Carl agreed.
"It stinks of her twat," Caroline hissed, "do they ever have fights?"
"All the time. They fight and fuck, and that's about it." Carl told her.
"It must be heaven to live here. I almost understand why you went up to see Mother."
"Yes, sometimes I have to get away. Things were all right before Carlotta came on the scene. Dad and I were getting along as well as could be expected. But he's turned into a real prick during the last couple of months. He never as time to talk about anything; he's too busy fucking Carlotta."
"I haven't had the dubious privilege of meeting her yet, but I did hear them last night. They were fucking like animals," Caroline said, careful to leave out the details. She did not tell her brother that she had tip-toed along the terrace to watch through the open window, and she did not tell him that she had frigged herself while watching the spectacle of the fuck. "Oh, they're always going at it. I envy him for having such constant access to that cunt. It's so easy for him to get laid. It's not so easy for me." Carl said. His voice was almost bitter.
"I doubt that you have such a hard time, Carl. There must be plenty of little girls who want to be fucked by a cute hunk like you. You know you are adorable. If I weren't your sister I'd want you to fuck me," Caroline said It was the truth. She did find her little sixteen year old brother very attractive. And he wasn't at all little. He was almost six feet tall, powerfully built, and it looked as though he had a gigantic weapon between his legs.
"And if you weren't my sister," Carl said, "I would fuck you. You're looking hot these days."
Caroline smiled at her brother. "Such a pity, isn't it, that our love has to be so pure?"
"Yes," Carl said, "sometimes sin is more fun."
Caroline thought it was wise to change the subject, at least for a while.
"Did you see the car Daddy gave me? It's in the driveway." she said.
"I did. It's great. Dad hasn't given me a car," Carl replied, his voice tinged with envy.
"Don't worry, he will." Caroline said.
"I don't know. Fathers are always nicer to their daughters." Carl said.
"That's as it should be, Carl," Caroline said facetiously.
"Let's go someplace. Let's take a ride," Carl said, "I just got back but already I have to get away from this place."
"Come to think of it, so do I," Caroline said, "I haven't been anywhere since I got in early this morning. I've just been lazing around the pool, getting quietly drunk. Want a sip?" Caroline extended a tall glass to her brother. Carl took a sip and instantly spat the liquid out, making a face.
"Ugh! That's straight Scotch. I assumed it was iced tea." He said.
"Maybe it should be. I'm sorry, Carl. I forgot you hated Scotch. But I need some fortification if I'm going to face Carlotta tonight. Did you know that we all have to go to dinner together?" She asked.
"Oh, shit! I'm really looking forward to that. I know you won't get along with her. It should be a swell evening." His voice was caustic.
"Where do you want to go? How much time do we have. What time is it?" she asked.
"It's almost four thirty. Carlotta never comes back until eight. She goes to a gym and gets her ass tightened and her tits lifted. She goes to the hairdresser, she gets her hair starched, or whatever, and her talons sharpened. Then she goes to meet Dad at the office. Usually they stop somewhere and have a few drinks and talk about how thrilling or boring their days were."
"I imagine there isn't much difference between the thrilling ones and the dull ones," Caroline said sardonically.
"Probably not," Carl shrugged.
"So we have at least four hours to do whatever we want with. Give me a minute. I'll throw something on and we'll go for a ride. You can drive, all right?"
"Great," Carl said.
Caroline ran upstairs, slipped a short casual dress over her bikini, pulled a comb through her hair and dabbed at her lips, coloring them with just a touch of lipstick.
"C'mon," she called to Carl. She was impatient.
Carl came in from the patio. Quickly they left the house, got in the car and started driving towards Hollywood on Wilshire Boulevard.
"Where should we go?" Carl asked, accelerating the car to sixty miles per hour.
"I don't know and I don't care," Caroline said. "Anywhere. It doesn't matter. It's such a beautiful day. Maybe we should go to the park, but I don't really feel like it. Just drive for a while."
Caroline liked the way the car felt. The leather felt good on her ass, and Carl was driving fast, making the engine vibrate between her legs. She felt a shudder in her cunt. She liked being with her handsome brother in the car her father had given her. Carl looked remarkably like her father. There was very little of Muriel in Carl; he looked completely like Simon. He had the same sensuous lips that appeared to have been made for kissing and eating pussy. He had the same smoldering blue eyes, and the thick texture of wild hair. Carl had the same awesome and mysterious looking bulge between his legs, the same promising looking crotch.
It was the first time she could remember ever thinking of her younger brother as a man.
And she enjoyed the thought.
They crossed to Sunset, then crossed on Los Palmos to Hollywood Boulevard.
"Jesus, it looks as tacky as ever," Caroline said.
"It's the trash heap of L.A. It always has been, always will be." Carl said.
"But it's irresistible. I'd forgot what a carnival it was. Park the car, Carl. Let's walk."
Carl slid expertly into a small parking place outside the huge, tawdry theatre with the footprints and handprints embedded in concrete. Most of the performers who had scratched their names in the concrete had been dead for years, but many of their names lived on, legends for as long as celluloid would last.
Caroline and Carl walked south on the long street, occasionally looking down at their feet to see the metal stars embedded in the pavement, checking to see whose name they were walking over. "She was a slut," Caroline would say.
Or: "He was a real stud," or "she fucked her way to the top."
"Oh, God, look!" Carl said.
They were approaching a movie theatre, a big one. There was an enormous poster on the marquee.
"Shit!" Caroline hissed.
All she could see was Carlotta's profile, the impeccably arched brows, the wistful eyes, the nose, the parted lips. She was staring into an actor's face, supposedly with love, awe, worship.
"She looks at him like that, yet she cut out all his good scenes. Jesus, she's a witch." Caroline said.
"You sort of expect her to fly off the poster on a broom, don't you?" Carl said.
"I can't bear the sight of her, Carl. I don't want to see her tonight. It's ironic. We leave the house to get away from the stink of her perfume and to get her off our minds for a while, and we can't escape her. We can't even take an innocent stroll on Hollywood Boulevard without bumping into her puss."
They walked in sullen silence for a minute. Then they saw another theatre, another marquee.
"Carl, it's such a lovely day, so warm and fresh and fragrant, so rarely smog free. Let's go into a movie and waste it." Caroline smiled.
"Perfect," Carl said, enjoying his sister's wry logic, "but this is a porno."
"What could be better? What's the matter, are you afraid you'll get a hard-on and that I'll see it. Would that embarrass you?"
"Come off it. You wouldn't notice it unless you were looking to begin with." Carl said.
"Or unless you got hot and horny and grabbed my hand and made me goose you," Caroline said, grabbing Carl's hand on the sidewalk, pushing it against his groin, her hand on his, goosing his crotch with both their hands at once.
"Would you make me do that, Carl?" Caroline laughed, squeezing Carl's hand against his own bulge, and feeling it in her own hand. She was surprised by the volume of it.
"Very funny, Caroline," Carl said, blushing with embarrassment. He had not wanted his sister to know that he had more than half a hard on since the moment he saw her.
"Carl, you're such a sweet thing," Caroline said.
"Do you want to go in to see this sleazy movie or not?" Carl asked.
"Sure let's take a look," she said.
They paid their admission and went in. The harridan behind the ticket counter was too insouciant to ask the brother and sister for proof of age. It was a tacky, disreputable theatre.
The theatre was like a million others. It had seen better days. The carpeting was frayed and worn from years of thousands of feet making incessant traffic over its surface. The seats were ratty and a number of them were broken.
Their eyes adjusted to the darkness as they looked for seats. They saw the lurid images on the screen, technicolor flesh, women's heads sucking men's cocks, women eating other women, cocks slipping in and out of tired looking cunts.
"My God, there are a lot of people here." Caroline whispered.
"It looks that way," Carl said. He did not tell his sister that he had been in this theatre dozens of times, that it was the most notorious porno house in L.A. Women as well as men frequented the place, and not to see the films. Viewers of the film became viewers of each other, and musical chairs was the game.
It was strange for women to come alone to a porno film. But they did. They came either by themselves or with another woman, a friend, and they came, just as the men did, to have cheap, quickie sex.
The female clientele tended to be young women, coeds or working girls who needed to release tension.
Caroline whispered in Carl's ear, "I expected to be the only woman in the place, but this theatre is packed with women. There are almost as many women as men."
"Sorry, you can't always be queen bee," Carl whispered back.
"Carl, look! That woman is sitting on that man's lap." Caroline was shocked.
"They're fucking," he said.
"My God, you're right. They are fucking. They're really into it. Jesus, what kind of place have you brought me to?" she asked, accusing Carl of the worst.
"It was your idea, Caroline," Carl said, telling the truth, "and I've never been here before," he said, lying brilliantly.
"Well, we're here. I guess we might as well make the most of it. Let's sit a few seats apart, Carl, and see if anyone has the nerve to approach either one of us." she suggested.
"That sounds fun enough," Carl said.
They advanced closer to the bright, flesh-flashing screen and found a half empty row of seats.
They sat down, four seats between them, and pretended to watch the movie. Their eyes strayed from the screen to watch the audience. There was more sex in the theatre than on the screen.
More than once they caught themselves looking at each other, seeing their excited faces illuminated dimly in the flickering light of the flesh filled screen.
Caroline felt her cunt working independently of her body. She was doing nothing to excite herself, no one was touching her, and there were four seats between her body and the body of her handsome brother.
Still, her cunt was excited. Something was titillating her beyond the copulatory images on screen. It was the presence of Carl. Just his presence thrilled and excited her terribly.
She turned her head slightly, very slightly. She saw Carl leaning back in the chair. His hands between his thighs, Carl was gently touching his bulging crotch inside his cut off's. His hand moved almost imperceptibly, but Caroline could see that he was stroking his dick and touching his balls.
At that moment Caroline felt someone beside her. A man had taken the seat on her right, not obscuring the sight of Carl, who was sitting four chairs to her left.
Caroline turned her head the other way to inspect the new presence. The theatre was so dark she could scarcely see, but she saw the whites of the man's eyes, a dark moustache, full lips and a large, well-developed body.
Instantly she looked at the bulge between the man's legs. She could see his cock clearly outlined in his denim, and his balls looked big in his pants.
Caroline felt his hand on her knee, it was sliding inside her dress and up her thigh. His big hairy hand was moving inch by inch up her soft white legs, getting closer to her quivering pussy.
She felt herself dripping in anticipation.
She felt the man's fingers make contact with her bikini bottoms. Her cunt released drops of liquor, staining the fabric of her bikini.
Expertly, the man found the strings that kept her bikini tied. He undid them and dragged the skimpy cloth from Caroline's legs, which squirmed in the seat to assist him in his task.
She saw her bikini slither down her calves and off her ankles. The man picked it from the floor and placed it wordlessly on the seat beside her.
She felt his fingers working on her bush, pinching her soft flesh, tickling her angelic pubis hair.
His fingers attacked her cunt. He jabbed two at once into her wet hole and slipped them far into her dark depths.
Not daring to look at Carl, Caroline leaned back in her chair, throwing her head back, ignoring the screen to concentrate instead on the delicious sensations the strange man was treating her to between her legs.
She spread her legs lewdly, giving him more access to her cunt.
Caroline knew that Carl was watching, and she imagined the hard-on that was surely throbbing between his legs, making his balls hard with the pressure of his building sperm.
The man lifted his body from the chair beside Caroline. He lowered his body to the floor, kneeling between her legs.
Caroline looked down in utter astonishment.
His head had disappeared under her dress.
As she felt his face come close to her cunt, Caroline heard the sound of his zipper. He was unzipping his cock inside her dress, preparing to beat his meat under the tent of her clothes while he ate her cunt.
Caroline felt his tongue strike her bush. One of his hands worked deeper into her cunt, and she felt his other hand hitting against her thigh as he pumped up and down on his cock.
"Eat me," she whispered to the strange man. She did not want Carl to hear, but she knew that he could. She could not help herself. She knew that it was shameless to be eaten out in front of her brother by a strange man in a porno theatre. It was perverse. But it was utterly delicious. She could not have stopped for anything. She needed pleasure this minute; she needed release from her anxiety. The huge poster of Carlotta on Hollywood Boulevard had almost ruined her day. Now this strange man was making everything better with his magic tongue and his extraordinary lips.
Caroline felt his moustache pressing against her soft pubic bush. She felt it against the lips of her cunt, which opened to welcome his prodding tongue.
Without looking she could feel Carl's eyes burning into her. Knowing that her brother was watching made the flames of her cunt hotter than hell. She was in a wicked heaven of pleasure, loving the good hot licking tongue that was coaxing her to a perverted paradise between her legs.
Caroline closed her eyes, blocking out the fucking on the screen to focus harder on her own quivering cunt.
She could feel the man's head moving under her dress. She couldn't help it: she had to look.
She knew it was brazen, but her instincts gave her no choice.
She lifted her dress, rolling it up on her lap and exposing her thighs, the man's body, his hand on his cock, his face, his tongue and her blonde beaver. She wanted to watch the man working on her cunt and clit, and there was something she could not deny: she also wanted Carl to see it.
As minimally as possible, Caroline turned her head to look at Carl, to see if he was watching her. To see the expression on his face.
Caroline had the shock of her life!
Four seats to the left, Carl also kneeling on the floor between a woman's legs.
Her brother was eating another woman's pussy.
It was too much. She watched the way Carl's head moved eagerly between the woman's legs, his tongue lapping up the hot cunt juices, swallowing them hungrily into his body.
It was dark in the theatre and Caroline could not make out details, but she knew that her brother had his cock out and that he was pumping it in his hand.
"Ahh," Caroline sighed with pleasure and shock. The man was eating her wonderfully. She felt his tongue scooping out her hot pussy flow, and his lips nibbled at her burning flesh.
He was thrilling her divinely.
"Lick my clit," she said, demanding more from the man.
Obligingly the man moved his tongue from her cunt to her clit. She felt the hot tip of it flick against her swollen pleasure berry, thrilling her body all over.
She reached down for his head and pressed it harder against her body, making him give her complete service,
Caroline saw his huge cock. He was pumping it hard.
"Put your hand in my cunt," she said, "give me three fingers, and use your other hand on my clit." she said, pulling the man up, aiming his groin at her face.
She took his cock all the way, all at once in her mouth. There wasn't time to fart around.
She gobbled up his cock, sucking hard and fast on it, making slurping sounds, filling her face with his hard male meat.
She felt his balls smack against her cheeks as she sucked hard on his hard rod, racing her hot mouth up and down the throbbing length of his stick, licking with his tongue, teasing him, and giving him hot, incredible suction.
The man was standing up in front of her seat, pumping his cock into her mouth.
Caroline squirmed in her seat, thrilling to the pleasure that the man's fingers were giving to her cunt and clit. His fingers worked magically on her womanhood, thrilling her with almost lethal pleasure.
Sucking hard on the man's blood-filled organ made the thrills in Caroline's groin, double, triple and overflow. She was in a heaven of her own. Her groin was flooded, running over with frenzied pleasure. She felt the man's huge cock in her mouth. She sucked hard on it, wanting it to come, wanting the strange man to pop his stud rocks in her gulping, sucking, cock-starved mouth.
Quickly she moved her eyes furtively in the direction of Carl, four seats to her left. She saw that he too had changed his procedure, adjusting it to complement or imitate her own. Carl was standing in front of the unknown woman, feeding her his cock. Caroline wished it were not so dark in the theatre. In the dim and flickering light she could not see her brother's cock. She wanted to. She wanted to see the size of it, the shape. She wanted to see his balls. She wanted to touch it, to hold it. She wanted to suck it and feel it hard in her mouth. She wanted it to stab her cunt and fill her with his hot seed.
She could only see that Carl was humping the woman's face, stuffing his cock into her hungry mouth. She could see the motions of his humping, the distance her drew himself away from her face with he withdrew his cock, and the distance her pushed himself forward when he humped to give her another feeding.
Carl was making big humps, moving his body, rocking it back and forth considerably. Caroline imagined that his cock must be big for him to be making such significant humping motions. It looked as though he were drawing ten inches of cock from the woman's face, and stuffing ten inches back, ramming it down her throat.
Caroline knew that it was unnatural for a brother and sister to carry on as she and Carl were doing, performing public sex in front of each other. But she did not care. She did not care at all. The thrills between her legs were too exquisite to worry about anything but the orgasm that she felt mounting in her body, burning in her blood, stretching her cunt in all directions, throbbing in her clit.
Caroline kept sucking on the strange man's, enormous dick. She felt it choking her, going through her throat, almost into her viscera, it seemed. She gagged and could not breathe and her eyes teared. But it was marvelous. It was glorious.
"Fuck my face," she mumbled through her mouthful of cock, "shoot your cum into my mouth, and keep pressing hard on my clit."
Caroline felt the man's hands on her groin. She felt his fingers inside her hole, stretching the tissues, widening her pussy, stroking the warm interior of her feminine mystery.
She felt his fingertips on her clit, pressing hard into the swollen sex berry, making quick little circles on its throbbing center of passion. His finger was performing a magic dance on her clit, and Caroline thrilled to his brilliant choreography.
The man pumped faster into her mouth, filling her face with his tumescent cock.
Swooning wonderfully with the thrills of the cock in her mouth and the man's fingers performing miracles on her groin, Caroline turned to sneak a look at Carl.
He was fucking the woman's face. Caroline could see that the recipient of her brother's cock was a good looking young woman, very pretty, with long blonde hair like her own. She could see that Carl was fondling her tits with one hand as he kept another on her face, pushing it down lower on his cock, making her suck every inch of his long hard spear.
Caroline closed her eyes to block out the sight she knew was thrilling her more than it should. It was shameless, wrong, unspeakable.
So was the ecstasy that was mounting in her loins, and so were the thoughts that were racing in her head.
She could not decide who this man was. This cock in her mouth, these fingers in her cunt and on her clit, whose were they? Were they Carl's or her father's? She could not choose which they should be. She could not make a definite choice, and she kept changing her mind. With one stroke of his fingers on her clit, Caroline decided that his hands were Carl's, than Carl was thrilling her clit; with the next thrust of the strange man's cock into her sucking mouth, Caroline knew for certain that she was being fed by her father, that her father was fucking her loving face with his huge fuck weapon.
Then when the man pushed his fingers deeper into her cunt, Caroline decided that they were Carl's fingers; Carl was giving her this pleasure.
Then, the cock in the mouth, the balls slapping her saliva-drenched chin had to be her father's; her father was going to pump his hot seed into her mouth.
Caroline swooned with mounting, climbing, killing pleasure. It was more than she could stand.
In a trance of uncontrollable madness, she spread her legs in abandon, swinging each one over the seat on either side of her, turning her cunt into a wide-open target.
Instinctively, the man quickly pulled his cock from her sucking mouth, lurched his body, seizing her legs.
Half squatting, half kneeling, he aimed his stiff cock at her open cunt. He rammed it into her all at once, filling her instantly with his huge fuck muscle, shoving it in all the fucking way.
He thrust in all at once, burying himself thoroughly in her cunt, which engulfed him eagerly, tightly, taking all the enormity of his weapon, from the bulbous head to the throbbing base.
She felt his balls press against her ass as her cunt took every swollen inch of his magnificent meat.
Quickly, Caroline turned to look at Carl. She could see that he was staring at her, watching as she took the strange man's cock all the way in her hot cunt.
At that minute, Carl began to convulse with orgasm.
Caroline could she him thrashing like a bull, banging his cock into the woman's face, throwing his head back and growling with pleasure.
Then she felt the strange man's hot cum splash out of his prick into her cunt, searing the tissue walls of her tender pussy.
No sooner had he rammed his cock into her than it exploded instantly in her hole.
His thick hot cum blasted in streak after streak into her hole, and he ground his cock and balls against her body, filling her with his fuck flesh and his sperm.
Caroline reached down to feel his balls. They were gnarled into one monstrous knot of exploded virility. Suddenly, the man pulled his cock from Caroline's cunt and rubbed it into her bush. He pressed its fat dripping magnificence into the fleshy folds encasing her desperate clit.
He pressed it hard against her sex, thrilling her hot berry to death.
She had sucked, she had been fucked, and now this was doing it to her. It was doing all she could ever ask for.
"Ah," she moaned, delirious to anything but the bliss or her orgasm building to its perfect zenith, spreading total joy through every inch of her over-thrilled flesh.
"Umm," her sigh stretched out, almost singing her ecstasy for all the world to hear.
Caroline held the man's cock tightly in her hands, feeling the thick bead of cum oozing from the head of his cock, dribbling down the long shaft.
She took the thick male cream on her finger tip and fed it to herself, swallowing the delicious male taste of it.
She had popped her rocks totally. She collapsed back into her chair, closed her eyes and began to relish the memory of the bizarre scene that had just unfolded.
She opened her eyes and turned slightly toward Carl. She could see that he had stuffed his cock back into his cut-offs and had sat down again to watch the movie. The young blonde woman had disappeared, her mouth full of Carl's cum load.
Caroline unfolded her dress and smoothed it tidily on her lap.
As the strange man zipped himself up and walked away, Caroline picked her bikini bottoms from the chair beside her, worked her feet through the holes for the legs and slithered them up to her crotch. She tied the strap around her hips and then smoothed her dress again.
Four seats away from one another she and her brother had sexed with strangers. They had humped and fucked and sucked like fiends, and had come enormously in the theatre, enjoying the extraordinary thrill of fast, anonymous sex in the seedy porno theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, one of the tawdriest streets in the world.
The brother and sister looked at each other with both amusement and shame. They were ambivalent about what they had done together. In one way, they knew that they should not have done it at all, or anything like it; in another way, they both wished that they had not wasted their young lust on strangers and realized that they had not done what they had truly wanted to do.
They "had wanted to have sex with each other. In a strange way they had, but they wished they had done it directly, rather than through the vehicles of strangers.
They could not speak these thoughts together. For a short while they would be unable to speak at all. They were both stunned with the merriment and the shock of their behavior.
Caroline could see Carl looking directly at her, giving her a signal. They had enjoyed sex too wonderfully to be excited by watching the images of fucking on the screen.
Carl's signal conveyed that they should go, and Caroline agreed. For the time being she had seen enough of this place, and had enjoyed enough sex.
They walked out together into the daylight that is always so peculiar after being in a movie theatre.
The Los Angeles light was obscured through the haze of smog. It was a bizarre yellow. The sky was yellow and there almost seemed to be a sense of doom in the air. Caroline knew that many people found the color of the Los Angeles sky ugly when the smog made its heavy blanket on the city, but Caroline loved the color, and she loved the feeling of the air.
She knew it was going to be a good night. She had an idea. An idea concerning Carlotta.
She would discuss it with Carl during the ride back to the house on Wilshire Boulevard. But for now, all she could think about was the forced proximity between them that was inevitable in a sports car. She wanted to be near him, to smell his maleness, to hear his maleness, to see, if she could, the bulge in his crotch.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Caroline, I'm so glad to meet you."
It was the famous voice. Caroline marveled at how Carlotta sounded the same in the living room as on screen. The seven words had a precise ring to them, a rehearsed inflection.
Caroline knew that she could do it as well, or better than Carlotta.
"I've been dying to meet you. I'm your biggest fan, and it's such heaven to have you here, I mean, living here." Caroline said, amazed at how easily her duplicity frothed from her mouth. Through her totally bogus but convincing smile she sounded sincere, even to herself.
"I hope you don't feel that I'm intruding," Carlotta said, as if that were of course impossible, as though Caroline and Carl should both be honored to have a famous star living in their house, sucking their father's cock. Carlotta seemed to dismiss the suggestion with the same breath that she made it.
"Not at all," Caroline said, "Carl and I are both thrilled to have you here, truly," she said, amazed at how natural she sounded. It was just as easy to lie as to tell the truth. In this case it was easier. The plan that she had Carl had devised would work only if Caroline won Carlotta's favor, so for the sake of their scheme Caroline was not going to tell the actress the truth. She was not going to say that she loathed Carlotta and couldn't wait to exile her from their father's life.
"Isn't that right, Carl? Weren't we talking about it this very afternoon and saying how marvelous it was to have Carlotta here?"
"That's right," Carl said, trying to express his sinister feelings with a friendly, rather than an evil smile.
"Oh, I am so relieved," Carlotta said, trying to invest significance in her words, but it was obvious that she did not care at all what either Carl or Carlotta thought, or how they felt about her. She thought she could rule the world with her voice, her profile, her tits, her cunt and her ass.
Caroline and Carl were going to show the bitch that she couldn't. They were going to make life rough for her.
"You father is having a swim before we go to dinner. I rarely swim. The chlorine is bad for my hair, and I suppose I'm too lazy to wear a bathing cap. Actually, I don't like the way I look in a bathing cap, and, anyway, if it weren't my hair, it would be my skin. Chlorine can make the skin dry or do something to the pigment. I don't know exactly what, but a camera man warned me once. I have enough trouble with my hair as it is."
Caroline just listened, utterly appalled. Carlotta's monologue might go on forever if she or Carl didn't do something.
It was amazing. This was the first time they had ever met, and Carlotta, the narcisist par excellence, was talking flatulently about herself. Not even herself, really. Her topics were her hair and her skin. Caroline had to admit that it was good hair and good skin. Carlotta had a luxurious head of wonderful hair. It was brilliantly colored to be darker in one spot, lighter in another. The streaks did not look at all tacky or even especially artificial. She looked elegantly glamorous.
Finally, Carlotta changed the subject to offer Caroline and Carl a drink. She had discussed it with their father, she told them, and he had said that they could have aperitifs before they all went to dinner.
As far as Caroline was concerned that was the limit! Where had Carlotta gotten the audacity to politely offer them drinks in their own house? And where had she picked up this aperitif nonsense. Their father had always allowed Carl and Caroline to drink in the house, as long as they promised never to drink too much and never to drive after they had been drinking. Their father's attitude was that it was only civilized to let children learn about liquor as a social grace in their homes, rather than having them booze furtively away from home and getting into all kinds of trouble all over town.
Caroline wanted a Scotch, and she wanted it strong. But there was no sense angering Carlotta. She would accept Carlotta's ever so gracious offer. She would sip sherry like a lady, and then before they all went to dinner she would slip into the pantry and take a few slugs from the bottle.
Caroline, Carl and Carlotta sat down together in the living room, their glasses in hand.
"So," Carlotta said, "tell me, Caroline, how did you like your year in Boston."
"I haven't decided. I liked it, but I missed Los Angeles. I missed Daddy and Carl," Caroline said.
"I do hope you are going back next year, though. College is so good for one. I often regret that I was too impatient for a career. I might have missed out on something," Carlotta said vaguely.
"But you haven't done so badly," Caroline said ingratiatingly.
"No, I can't say that I have. I've been lucky, and your father has helped me tremendously, you know. I might still be doing the warm-up numbers in Vegas, or something, if I he hadn't decided to handle me."
"I'm sure you would have gotten beyond that, Carlotta. Anyone with as much talent as you have is bound to hit it big sooner or later."
"Probably," Carlotta said conceitedly, "but it might have taken longer."
There was a short lull in the conversation. They all sipped their aperitifs.
Caroline lit a cigarette.
"Oh, Caroline, if you must smoke would you sit over there, please," Carlotta pointed to an uncomfortable chair across the room, "the smoke is dreadful for my voice."
Jesus! That was too much. Caroline wanted to scream. It wasn't as though she were blowing the smoke into Carlotta's precious pipes; she just wanted to have one cigarette while she shared the room with the cunt.
"Of course, I am sorry Carlotta. Forgive me, I should have realized that you have to protect your glorious voice." Caroline made her voice mock-humble as she crushed the cigarette out in a sparkling clean ashtray.
"I didn't mean to say that you couldn't smoke in your own house, Caroline. That would have been too presumptuous for me. But I am grateful to you for understanding. Even a little smoke can be disastrous. Even if you had smoked across the room it might have affected my work tomorrow." Carlotta said.
Caroline was amazed at how cunty Carlotta's voice could be. She knew of course that a little smoke could not possibly do any harm to the woman's singing voice. But she decided to play along with Carlotta's stupid eccentricities for the time being.
"Would you prefer that I not smoke at all, Carlotta?" Caroline asked, damned if she was going to give up cigarettes for this father-stealing cunt.
"Frankly, Caroline, I would. I had been wanting to ask you when I went into your room this evening to take a dress from your closet. I was surprised to find cigarettes. Then I realized that I had smelled them this morning. It will be very difficult for me to live in a house where people smoke. Would you mind terribly giving it up for my sake. It would be dear of you."
Caroline could hardly believe her ears. She had never encountered such audacity. This cunt had chutzpah, but it was the kind that Caroline couldn't abide. Her loathing of Carlotta increased by the minute.
"It's the least I can do for you, Carlotta. I want life for you and Daddy to be unmitigated happiness. Of course I shall stop." Caroline lied.
"Oh, thank you, Caroline. It is very sweet of you," Carlotta said, as though it were natural for people to give up smoking, drinking, eating, sleeping, fucking and breathing for her.
Again there was a silence. Upstairs, Simon's office extension rang in his study. Outside, a motorcycle raced by on Wilshire Boulevard. In the room, an ice cube rattled in Carlotta's glass. There were no other sounds, no words.
Caroline asked Carlotta about the new film she was making. Carlotta was happy to babble about how excellent the songs were, how wonderful she would make them, how smashing she would look in the costumes and how marvelous she was going to be in the film. That took up a good half hour.
When their father walked into the room, dressed elegantly in his charcoal trousers, the whitest possible shirt and a brilliantly colored tie, Caroline was instantly relieved. The sight of him soothed her, although she felt slightly guilty about how their plans for Carlotta might make him suffer. But it would only be for a while, and in the long run he would thank his son and daughter. Caroline was certain of that. She was especially certain that her father would be grateful to her.
Caroline was crushed when their father announced that he had been called to a special conference with an important client. There was a big deal to close, he told them, and if he didn't do a little business once in a while they would never be able to go out to dinner. He hoped they would not mind, but the three of them, Caroline, Carl and Carlotta would have to go without him to the restaurant on Sunset Boulevard.
He expected the conference to last all night and early into the morning. He apologized, saying that it would be best for him to sleep on the couch at his office rather than making the long drive back at an ungodly hour. He would grab a few hours rest at his office, start work early in the morning, and, hopefully, be back early the next evening.
At first Caroline was deeply disappointed. This was her first evening in Los Angeles and she would not be spending it with her father. She resented the imposition of clients on her father's time. She had hardly seen her father at all. She had seen him at the airport and had been with him during the long ride home, but she had spent most of that time sulking about Carlotta. They had not enjoyed together the quality of time they were accustomed to sharing.
Caroline was disappointed only for a moment. Then she realized that she would have plenty of time with her father soon enough, especially after she had arranged for Carlotta's removal.
She realized also that her stud father's absence that evening would make it that much easier for her and Carl to carry out their plans for Carlotta. In fact, the call from the client was a miraculous stroke of good fortune. It couldn't be better. Caroline hoped that her father would make a wonderful deal, get a wonderful commission and have a spectacular success.
She knew that she and Carl would have perfect success.
Simon wished them a good night and raced away.
Caroline and Carl were left with a rather dejected Carlotta. It was obvious that the bitch was going to try her best to win their favor, but she was transparently nervous. Caroline could see it and her made her that much more confident that she and Carl would be successful in their scheme.
Carlotta wished she were on the sound stage; she wished she had lines to deliver or a song to sing. She wished she had a character to play. Alone in the house with the two young adults she felt terribly ill at ease. Although she was closer to their age than to Simon's she felt uncomfortable with young persons who were not in the business, persons who did not need her.
Although she was only twenty-two, Carlotta had not been young for years. Her appearance was youthful, despite her meticulous glamour and elegant grooming, but she had begun to fight for her career so early in her life, and had been fighting so long that she had never enjoyed youth or had time to mourn its passing.
She had struggled to attain a pinnacle of success seldom reached by a young performer. Her peers in the industry, the few she had, were almost twice her age. Somehow, in the process of her remarkable climb, Carlotta had aged at a commensurate speed. She had aged and excelled at a double pace, and had become hardened. She had lost much of her youthful resiliency and had become brittle.
The only way she could handle the situation was to have another drink before they left for dinner. She had the sense to know that if she was going to have a drink it was only proper to offer another to Carl and Caroline.
They had three drinks before they drove in Carlotta's car to the restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. It was a typical Los Angeles restaurant imitating a typical New York restaurant imitating a Parisian restaurant. The ambience, the waiters and their heavy accents were ersatz or Corsican at best, but the haute cuisine was extraordinary.
Before dinner they had another drink, their fifth for the evening. The restaurant was far too tactful to request identification from either the seventeen year old girl or the sixteen year old boy. The management was thrilled to serve such a glittering celebrity as Carlotta Craig, and they were respectful and cautious in their treatment of the party of three.
They enjoyed superb cuisine and celestial wines, and with dessert they were given a complimentary bottle of champagne, which completed their rapturous intoxication.
With every sip and morsel of the excellent dinner Caroline ruminated deliciously on what she was going to do Carlotta. But in a strange way she was disturbed by her plans. After a few drinks Carlotta had softened to Carl and Caroline. The brittle young actress had seemed to shed some of her hard shells, some of the sharp edges had fallen off or had been smoothed over by intoxication.
To Caroline, Carlotta seemed significantly changed, relaxed and curiously vulnerable.
It was harder for Caroline to maintain her hostility toward Carlotta, and she began to wonder if she might actually enjoy the seduction that she and Carl had planned. She had known all along that she would enjoy it in a spiteful way, but as she sipped her champagne and nibbled her raspberries Caroline began to think that she might feel physical and emotional pleasure while seducing and dominating Carlotta.
After the champagne, Carlotta loosened up. She became soft, ebullient and amusing. Caroline could see the charm and charisma that had won the loyalty of her legions of fans. Carlotta had a warm womanly sensitivity under the brittle facade of rehearsed mannerisms. Caroline had seen this quality in the woman's screen performance, but she had assumed that only a cameraman could elicit the hidden qualities.
It was apparent that wine and champagne had the same effect as the camera, for at the dinner table Carlotta became radiant.
At first Carlotta had dismissed the suggestion of a liqueur, saying jovially that they had had more than enough.
"Oh, Carlotta, don't be silly," Caroline said.
"But, Caroline, I'm already ripped to the tits. Good Lord, what have you children done to me. I have to work tomorrow. I have to drag my ass to work and sing and look gorgeous. Oh, God, I can't bear to think of it. The bags under my eyes are going to be bouncing off my knees." Carlotta was so relaxed that she giggled at the idea of the disaster she would be in front of the grinding cameras.
Caroline looked at Carlotta affectionately.
"Oh, what the hell," Carlotta laughed, "if one is going to go to hell one should pass paradise en route."
She signaled to the waiter for three cognacs.
Instead of coffee they had a second cognac. Carlotta said that she was so bombed it didn't make any difference anymore. She said that she was a doomed woman, laughing merrily at the thought.
"I know this is going to surprise you, Caroline, after my tirade against smoking back at the house. That was rude of me, and I regret it, by the way. I know I'll be too hung over tomorrow to sing. I'll have to lip-synch later, so may I impose on you for a cigarette? I know it's ridiculous. I haven't smoked in years, but the cognac has given me a craving for a cigarette."
By the way Carlotta was squirming in the banquette and obliviously fondling her breasts, Caroline suspected that Carlotta was craving more than just a cigarette.
"Of course," Caroline replied, offering Carlotta a filter cigarette from her case and feeling deliciously amused by Carlotta's complete lack of inhibitions.
Carlotta handled the cigarette elegantly, taking rather demure puffs. Caroline could see that she was more holding it than smoking it, and she noticed that Carlotta did not inhale.
Gesticulating charmingly with the cigarette, Carlotta looked directly into Caroline's eyes with warmth and humor.
"So tell me about Boston again, Caroline. How's the fucking back there?" Carlotta's smile was wide and natural, as was the laugh that bubbled like a song from her mouth.
The candid question delighted Carl and Caroline. It was unfortunate that Carlotta could not be delightful like this all the time. There was nothing cunty about her behavior tonight. But they knew that she would be a monster again tomorrow and still had to be dealt with, despite her temporary radiance.
Carl drove them back to Wilshire Boulevard in Carlotta's car. Carlotta said she was having much too much fun to bother with the bore of driving and that Carl, as the man in the party, should protect the two drunken damsels in distress.
At the house, Carlotta excused herself for a moment, going upstairs to get into something comfortable and casual. She instructed Carl to fix them all a nightcap.
It was one-thirty in the morning. Simon was sleeping at his office on Beverly Boulevard.
"Do you have the cameras ready, Carl?" Caroline asked her brother.
"Do you mean that we're still going to do it? She's been so nice and we've had such a good evening, it doesn't seem fair now." Carl protested.
"I know. She has been charming and it seems perverse to go through with it. But what we've seen tonight is nothing more than Carlotta's temporary madness. You know that she'll be her bitchy self again tomorrow. She'll give the director hell, she'll harass the cameraman, she'll boss the sound people around. Then she'll come back here and treat us like unwelcome guests in our own house. We have to do it Carl." Caroline was adamant. "You're right, I suppose. Yes, the camera is ready. I drilled the hole in Dad's dressing room door when I went up to change for dinner," Carl said.
"And you're sure that you can shoot it so that my face doesn't show?"
"Well, it depends on where you put your face. If you put it between Carlotta's legs I probably can't shoot her cunt without getting your puss in the frame, but if she just goes down on you and you keep your head on the pillows, the shadows will hide you." Carl said.
"I don't know if I'm going to want to just lie back like a statue and get eaten, Carl. Maybe that's what I want, but it's just as likely that I want to move around a lot and jump up and down on Carlotta's cunt." Caroline said.
"Doesn't matter. I can cut the film whenever your face gets in the light, or I can shut the camera off and on. But try to keep it under some control, Caroline. If I get off on what you and Carlotta do I might not be able to keep turning the camera off when you put your face in her ass. And I don't want to have to do too much cutting." Carl explained.
"Well, try to keep your hands off your prick and on the camera, Carl." Caroline teased.
"Do you really think that Dad will dump her if he sees the film?" Carl asked.
"I'm positive, Carl. He thinks Carlotta is some kind of virgin goddess. When Daddy fucks a woman he gets it in his mind that he's the only man she's ever had or could ever want. You remember how fast he dumped Muriel when he caught her fucking that stunt man in the pool. He won't tolerate infidelity. When he sees Carlotta dyking it up on his own bed in his own house, he'll have her hauled away by a moving van. He'll be grateful to you for filming the scene and letting him know the truth. We'll get rid of Carlotta and he'll probably buy you that car you want. But, for God's sake, he can't recognize me. He'd probably pack me off to live with Muriel or some other fate worse than death." Caroline winced at the idea.
"No, he'd never do that. You're his little darling. He worships you. The worst thing he would do is make you replace Carlotta in his bed." Carl said, stretching his imagination.
Caroline wondered if Carl knew how much his suggestion thrilled her. At the sound of his words Caroline felt a sudden shock of fresh lubricity in her cunt. Carl's suggestion made her pussy hot and ready for Carlotta's feeding time. She needed to be eaten right away, and she needed to be eaten well. She hoped Carlotta knew how to go down.
If she really believed that her father would make her take Carlotta's place, she would have gladly stuck her face in the camera; she would have split her beaver directly into the lens. She wanted her father. She wanted her daddy's big cock more than anything in the world. She wanted to be fucked by her father. She wanted his fat fuck rod in her tight tender cunt.
"Carl, where are our drinks?" Carlotta cajoled playfully, "I want a drink, my darling man.
Caroline and Carl turned to watch Carlotta's sweeping descent from the staircase. She slinked elegantly into the living room, wearing a beautiful apricot-colored negligee that happened to be dazzlingly transparent.
Evidently she was so smashed on wines, champagne and cognacs that she did not realize what she was wearing or how lascivious she appeared. She had nothing under her negligee and both Carl and Caroline were astounded at the sight of her beautiful breasts and her luxuriant beaver.
Carl gaped in awe at the sight of the beautiful woman's body. He rushed from the room to make drinks and to hide his sudden hard-on.
He came back from the pantry with only two drinks.
"I made Stingers for you. I thought you'd like a switch from straight cognac." Carl said.
Caroline smiled at her brother's conspirational cunning. Stingers were appropriately named; they could be lethal.
"That was thoughtful of you, darling," Carlotta said, utterly relaxed and feeling naturally endeared to Carl, "but why didn't you make one for yourself?"
"I'm exhausted, Carlotta. I have to go to bed." Carl said, getting ready to make his exit, to leave Caroline and Carlotta alone. He wanted to make some last-minute adjustments to the camera.
"That's too bad. I thought the party was just beginning," Carlotta said innocently.
Caroline smiled again. The party was indeed just beginning. The real fun hadn't started yet.
"It's all right, Carlotta. We can continue. We can have a party of our own. We don't need a man around," Caroline said.
"Oh, I'm so glad that you're going to stay up for a while, Caroline. I couldn't bear calling it a night so soon. This is the first time I've truly relaxed in years. But you must be even more tired than Carl. I mean, your body must still be operating on Eastern time."
"Not at all, Carlotta. I'm not a bit tired," Caroline said. It was the truth. She was wildly exhilarated, knowing the events that were about to unfold. Her body was on neither East or West Coast time. Her body was in tune to a time of its own. The sea coast of the libido wound the impatient clock in her cunt.
The tides were violent, the foam and froth were rising between Caroline's legs, and a million eager, hungry creatures danced in the salty flow of her pussy.
"Goodnight, Carl," she said, blowing her brother a kiss, hinting that he should not linger.
Carl kissed his sister on the lips, letting his tongue explore her mouth. Pretending to fumble, he deliberately cupped her left tit in his hand.
Then he bent over to kiss Carlotta, who had spread herself provocatively on a long sofa.
Caroline was amazed at the length of the kiss.
Carlotta reached forward to accept Carl's kiss, throwing her arms around his shoulders, dragging him closer to her body.
Caroline watched as Carlotta moved her tongue in and out of Carl's mouth, taking Carl's tongue inside her own moist lips.
They pressed their lips together and kissed passionately. Carlotta put her hand on Carl's chest and stroked his hard muscle lovingly.
"We will see you in the morning, Carl," Caroline said, raising her voice.
Carl broke the kiss.
"It's a pity you're so tired, Carl," Carlotta said.
Carl wished he could stay and fuck Carlotta on the couch in front of his sister. He wished he could fuck Carlotta and then fuck Caroline. His hard-on throbbed inside his pants. He was sure that the two women could see it. It was a bitch that Carlotta and Caroline were going to have all the fun and that he was just going to hide in the dressing room photographing their lust.
Reluctantly Carl left the room and went upstairs, leaving Caroline and Carlotta in the living room.
"Such a good looking young man, your brother," Carlotta said, "you are both exceedingly attractive young people."
"Well our father ... " Caroline began.
"Him too. And just between you and me, Caroline, your father is a superb lover," Carlotta confided.
"Is he really?" Caroline asked. She was interested.
"Oh, he's divine. To be honest with you, Caroline, I've been around. I used to sleep with a lot of people. Frankly, your father's cock is something else. I've never been so happy with a man."
Caroline knew now that she could get Carlotta to say and do anything.
"I'm afraid I look too much like my mother," Caroline said, her voice indicating sorrow.
Carlotta stirred on the couch, shifting her long beautiful legs, sipping her drink through her moist lips and looking into Caroline's eyes.
"I've never met your mother, of course, but she must be lovely if you look like her. You are an incredibly beautiful young woman, Caroline."
"Do you really think so, Carlotta? There is no greater compliment for a woman than to be told that she is beautiful by another woman who is."
"Yes, I do, Caroline," Carlotta said.
Caroline moved from her chair to sit down beside Carlotta on the couch.
She reached for Carlotta's face and pulled it gently toward her own. She planted her lips on Carlotta's, kissing her once delicately.
Caroline was amazed at how warmly Carlotta responded. She had expected only an affectionate, sisterly response. But the kiss Carlotta gave her was instantly sexual. Barriers were shattered immediately by the contact of their pressing lips.
Carlotta probed Caroline's warm mouth with her tongue, and parted her lips to receive Caroline's sudden thrust.
They lay on the couch together, wrapped in each other's arms, their lips pressed together, their tongues chasing each other in and out of their beautiful mouths.
Brazenly, Caroline placed her hands on Carlotta's body, fondling both heavy, freely hanging breasts.
Carlotta made no gesture to remove Caroline's hand. It was as though this lovely lesbian sex were inevitable.
Caroline massaged Carlotta's tits in her hands. She held one tit in her hand, filling her palm with the size and weight of the womanly breast. With her other hand she flicked and teased Carlotta's stiffening nipples.
Carlotta writhed on the couch, sighing with female pleasure.
Suddenly, Caroline felt Carlotta's hand investigating the wetness between her legs.
Caroline thrilled to the touch of Carlotta's hand on her groin. Carlotta massaged the thrilling mound of blonde pubis, stroking the delighted groove that encased her smoldering clit.
Carlotta played her fingers upon the opening of Caroline's oasis, playfully exploring the womanly wilderness of Caroline's cunt.
It was happening quickly, perfectly, and magically. Caroline was enchanted by the skillful attentions of Carlotta's touch.
Caroline put one of her own hands inside Carlotta's apricot negligee, teasing the forest of her luxuriant bush, making tiny circles around the perimeter of the woman's pussy.
Carlotta caressed Caroline's cunt.
"I want to kiss you down there," Carlotta said.
"I want you to. We must love and sex together, but let's go upstairs," Caroline said, just barely remembering the plan and Carl waiting with the camera.
"Yes, yes, we must go to bed, Caroline. We must lie on satin sheets with nothing on. I want to eat your naked pussy."
"Come upstairs with me," Caroline said, taking Carlotta by the hand, pulling her from, the sofa and helping her slightly staggering body across the room and up the stairs.
In her father's bedroom Caroline stripped the apricot negligee from Carlotta's eager body, careful to keep her back to the dressing room door through which Carl was photographing.
This was going to be the best performance of Carlotta's career.
Carlotta worked rapidly on Caroline's clinging red dress, undoing the tiny hooks and the intricate buttons.
"Umm, you have nothing on under your dress, you little sex-kitten," Carlotta purred.
"That's as it should be," Caroline said.
Carlotta lovingly lowered the dress down Caroline's lovely thighs, following the red fabric with her mouth, kissing each inch of Caroline's leg as the falling dress exposed her body.
Carlotta was kneeling on the carpet, squirming as she lavished Caroline's fragrant skin with kisses. She kissed Caroline's toes, her perfect ankles, her knees, her thighs, and then she buried her face in the sweet smelling groin of the sighing, panting girl.
Caroline pulled Carlotta to her feet, and they stood together in the room, their arms wrapped around each other, locking their lips in passionate kisses and pressing their excited female flesh together, tits to tits, bush to bush, thighs to thighs.
"Angel," Carlotta moaned, worshipping the beautiful young goddess.
Caroline rubbed her bush against Carlotta's, swooning with delicious sensation.
She pushed against Carlotta, coaxing her to the bed.
Caroline pressed hard against Carlotta's abundant tits, pushing her down on the bed.
Carlotta lay spread out on the bed, her arms and legs open to receive her female lover.
Caroline looked down at Carlotta's body. It was flayed lewdly on the bed, the legs spread, open for Caroline's attack.
Carlotta reached for Caroline's hand and pulled her down on the bed. Caroline fell on top of Carlotta's body, feeling her tits and beaver rubbing against her own.
They rolled over, Caroline keeping her back to the camera.
Carlotta kneeled between Caroline's legs and put her face into the heated crotch of the young over-heated woman.
Caroline felt Carlotta's lips kissing the flesh lips of her cunt. Carlotta's tongue probed into Caroline's hole, stirring the simmering juices, lapping them up, devouring the hot female gushes.
Suddenly, Caroline lost control. She didn't care about the camera. She sat up in the bed, pushing her crotch into Carlotta's face, and lowering her own mouth to kiss the eating woman's tits.
Caroline raced her tongue over Carlotta's nipples, feasting on the erect womanly flesh. She sucked all that she could of an entire breast into her mouth, and wrapped her arms tightly around Carlotta's body, clinging to the beautiful woman.
Dazed, Carlotta leaned forward in the bed, her face still licking and eating at the flesh of Caroline's pussy.
She extended her arm and fumbled for a drawer in the bedside table.
Caroline, her mouth full of Carlotta's tits, her hands thrilled by nipples and her cunt swooning to the treats of Carlotta's sucking, licking face, was astonished at the sight of an enormous rubber dildo.
Carlotta held it firmly in her hand and began to stroke it against Caroline's breasts.
Caroline thrilled to the touch of the flesh colored rubber against her tits, brushing tenderly on her excited nipples. She was awed by the size of its phallic shape.
As Carlotta rubbed the rubber cock against Caroline's tits, Caroline began to lick Carlotta's skin. She covered both tits with her slobbering mouth, then lowered her head to lick Carlotta's stomach. She traced the exquisite lines of Carlotta's torso, lowering her head, until finally her tongue abandoned itself to the bounties of Carlotta's bush.
Caroline lapped at the luxuriant female pubis, licking lovingly with her lubricous tongue.
She buried her face in Carlotta's cunt, while Carlotta dug deeper with her tongue into Caroline's hole. The two women ate each other's pussies, delighting in the taste and textures of their female banquet.
Carlotta rubbed the enormous dildo over every inch of Caroline's sex-flushed breasts, teasing the excited orbs and the stiff, aching nipples.
Caroline fed on Carlotta's cunt, relishing the warm saline flavor of the flooding discharges of the hot, swooning female box. She thought of it as the cunt that her father fucked, and she imagined that she tasted the thick masculine cream of his sperm. She gobbled eagerly, wanting every morsel of Carlotta's hot culinary cunt.
Suddenly, Caroline pressed down hard on Carlotta's hot clit, stabbing the flaming button with her fingers.
"Fuck me, Caroline," Carlotta moaned, thrusting the huge dildo into Caroline's hand.
Caroline felt the strange object in her hand. She traced the length of it with her finger, and delighted in the flesh-like texture of it.
"Suck it, first," Caroline said, aiming the dildo into the mouth that was eating her pussy.
Carlotta opened her mouth ever wider to take the enormous pseudo prick that Caroline was stuffing into her mouth.
The sight of Carlotta swallowing the enormous dildo sent sparks to Caroline's cunt. She was in a rapture of sex and fantasy.
"Suck my cock," Caroline growled, "suck my cock in your hot whore's mouth."
Carlotta swallowed the huge dildo, taking it all the way in her mouth, gagging and choking, but loving it.
Caroline rammed it all the way in, forcing it into Carlotta's sucking face all the way to the big rubbed balls at the base.
Quickly, Caroline pulled it out of Carlotta's face.
She pushed Carlotta forward on the bed, reached between her thighs and spread them far apart, aiming the split beaver directly into Carl's camera.
She rammed the dildo impatiently, deep into Carlotta's dark cunt.
Carlotta groaned in pain and pleasure. The dildo was huge and it was ripping her apart.
Caroline pressed the dildo hard into Carlotta's hole, punching the cunt with the hard rubber cock.
She straddled Carlotta's body, climbing up the woman's prone torso, rubbing her young buttocks against the woman's tits.
She reached behind her back to ram the dildo into Carlotta's pussy. She raced it in and out of the hot slippery hole, fucking Carlotta wildly with the dildo.
Carlotta thrashed and writhed on the bed, humping her body quickly on the mattress to make faster contact with Caroline's violent thrusts. She bucked her pelvis frantically, making the huge rubber cock speed in and out of her greedy gash. She wanted all of it. She wanted to be filled by the fast fucking dildo.
Carlotta grabbed Caroline's tits with both hands, squeezing them urgently, kneading them, caressing them.
Caroline moved forward on Carlotta's pinned body, lowering her dripping cunt into Carlotta's face, bumping hard into Carlotta's mouth, grinding her hot cunt against the woman's outstretched tongue and eager, excited lips.
Caroline humped her cunt against Carlotta's face and fucked the hole with the huge dildo.
"Ahh," Carlotta moaned, her mouth full of Caroline's dripping cunt, licking the hot streaming honey from the wet pink hole, "feed me your cunt, fuck my hole."
"Eat, cunt!" Caroline said, "drink all my hot steaming pussy cream!"
Caroline felt trembling, burning, scorching bliss between her legs. Carlotta's tongue was rapidly performing one miracle after another.
She raced the huge dildo in and out of Carlotta's pussy, and the fucked woman felt it tearing the tender tissues of her hole, wounding her wonderfully with its hard immensity.
They were building together to a perihelion of pleasure, epical ecstasy lacerated their loins.
They were wild creatures, writhing on the hot bed of their insatiable lust.
Carl had been watching their nymphomaniac insanity, his hard-on killing him in his pants. He stripped in the closet and began to jack himself off, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to join his sister and Carlotta, to complete their joy with his enormous, pulsing cock.
He threw the dressing room door open and stepped into the room, trespassing on their perverse privacy.
CHAPTER SIX
The two women were too lost in their lust to object to Carl's invasion. Carlotta, delirious with pleasure, reached out for Carl's huge cock, as though she had been expecting it.
Keeping her mouth on Caroline's humping pussy, Carlotta swung her body around on the enormous, sex-covered bed, making her dildo-filled cunt available to Carl's newly arrived fuck-rod.
Carl withdrew the huge dildo from Carlotta's cunt and let it lay idle on the damp satin sheet.
He spread her eager legs further apart, watching her writhing body tremble with desperate desire for his cock.
Caroline watched her brother aim his long hard iron at the target of the pussy of the woman who eating her hot cunt. She saw him holding his cock in his hands, brandishing its tumescence as he stabbed the opening of Carlotta's hole with his bulbous head.
She watched the cock slide into the hot hole, slipping in easily at first as the hungry cunt sucked it in greedily. Then Carlotta's cunt was shocked by the enormity of the weapon. Despite her hunger, the hole resisted Carl's further invasion.
But it didn't deter the horny boy. He pushed his cock harder and deeper into the surprisingly tight cunt. He felt it squeezing his stick in its hot, wet embrace.
Carl felt the walls of Carlotta's pussy clinging to his hard fuck pole. He felt the cavity of her cunt widen for his entry. The warm tender tissues of Carlotta's hole stretched as he plunged his great cock deeper into her dark, torrid cave.
Carlotta squirmed her pelvis, lowering her cunt to the great fat root of Carl's pulsing prick.
As she struggled to accommodate more of the boy's hot horny cock, Carlotta gulped like a glutton on the young girl's gash, gobbling Caroline's pussy flesh, digging her tongue into the hole. She had one hand on Caroline's bush, exploring the fleshy folds, seeking the quivering clit. Her other hand was wrapped around Carl's balls, pushing against them to cram his cock into her cunt.
Caroline pushed her cunt into Carlotta's face, then moved her body slightly to aim her clit at the sharply flicking tongue.
Carlotta felt the pink pearl of Caroline's clit on her tongue and tasted the salty sweetness of the hot female berry.
She licked it eagerly as Carl shoved his huge cock all the way into her cunt. She felt his heavy balls slap against her ass. She writhed on the bed, squirming on the big stick she held tightly in her hot hole.
She moved her face under Caroline's box, licking the clit, using her mouth like a switch to turn the young girl on. She darted her tongue from clit to cunt, cunt to clit, back and forth with speed and heat.
Carl banged his cock in and out of Carlotta's hole, fucking her hard and fast, feeling the pressure of cum building in his big heavy balls.
He watched his sister banging her clit against the eating mouth of the woman he was fucking. He felt as extraordinary thrill, knowing that his cock was fucking his father's woman, who in turn was licking his sister's clit.
Carl was fucking the cunt his father fucked; he was fucking the woman who ate his sister. He felt his cock throb with vital virility. He pumped it in and out of Carlotta's wet fuckhole, getting ready to shoot his load all the way into her body.
He watched as Carlotta fingers pushed into his sister's pussy. He saw the huge dildo on the satin sheet.
Thrusting hard into Carlotta, Carl took the dildo in his hands and slapped it once lightly on Carlotta's face.
Carl reached between his sister's slender white thighs, feeling the dribbles of hot pussy liquor on her soft skin. He raised her body, lifting her cunt from Carlotta's face.
He held the big, threatening dildo straight in the air, so that his sister could see the size of it.
He pushed the head of the rubber fuck wand against the lips of his sister's hole.
He pulled his huge cock almost all the way out of Carlotta's cunt, then rammed it forcefully back in as he shoved the dildo into his sister's twat. Both women were filled with hard fuck power at the same time.
Caroline moaned at the sudden insertion of the dildo. Her cunt stretched to take it all in, but she felt its hardness tearing her apart, ripping her resisting tissues. She could not open wide enough. Her wet pussy walls clung to the long rubber cock as Carl slid it back and forth in her tight hole, pushing and pulling with his fast working hands.
With his other hand, Carl grabbed Carlotta's heaving tits, squeezing one, then the other.
He banged his bloated cock in and out of the woman's cunt, screwing her hard with his male fury.
Carlotta squirmed under him, rotating her body to make his cock circle in her hole. She felt his pulsing immensity filling her with deep satisfaction, and she moved her hot box up and down his long hard rod, thrilling his sensitive skin with her burning honey.
Hungrily, Carlotta returned her mouth to Caroline's clit. She stretched her pointy red tongue and flicked at the tender quivering fruit inside Caroline's wet fleshy folds.
Carl reached under Carlotta's body, lifting her from the stomach, making her kneel on the bed while he fucked her cunt from the rear.
As he humped into her kneeling body he banged Carlotta's face against Caroline's clit, doubling his sister's pleasure.
He kept one hand on Carlotta's swinging tits and another on the base of the dildo which he rammed in and out of Caroline's over-fucked cunt.
Carlotta took Carl's big cock from the rear and rubbed her mouth, her moist lips and her sticky tongue, against Caroline's clit, which thrilled to the fast movements of the rubber cock in and out of her hungry cunt.
Carlotta felt Carl's hand desert her tits and attack her swooning clit. The sudden touch of his fingers on the hot center of her burning sex nearly killed her with ecstatic shock. Volts of overpowering pleasure startled her flesh as fast hot thrills careened through her body,, rushing through her raging blood.
She felt her cunt convulse with the power of Carl's hard banging cock. Her flesh melted, simmered, boiled and overflowed. She was in flames and her clit exploded on Carl's pressing finger tip.
He thrust into her deep, filling her dark cave with his meat, and he felt her body tremble, vibrating spasmodically on his hard rod.
"Ahhh, help!" she cried out, chanting her pleasure.
Caroline was too oblivious to know that Carlotta was coming. She banged her clit against the woman's tongue, thrilling to the moist lips in her drenched bush.
Carlotta licked quickly at Caroline's clit, seizing the fat dildo in her hands and, in her delirium helping Carl bang it into the girl's gash.
Caroline pressed hard against Carlotta's mouth, and felt the huge dildo filling her hole as Carl and Carlotta pressed it all the way into her.
Her building orgasm peaked, hit its ultimate zenith. It went off like a rocket between her legs, killing her with unbearable ecstasy.
She felt the huge rubber balls of the dildo's base press against the lips of her pussy and hard against her asscheeks.
She came furiously, as she never had before.
The two women were totally spent. Sex had thrilled their hot bodies and cooled their burning souls.
Carl hammered his iron hard in Carlotta's hole, pumping like a crazy fuck-machine. He felt his balls slap against her buttocks as her luxuriant pubic hair meshed with his. He ground his steel flesh into her, feeling the hot sensations of their coupled meat.
His balls clenched into a fighting fist as he banged hard into her hot oasis, entering into the final throes of fucking.
He grabbed her knees and moved them back so they could no longer support her body. She flopped head-down on the mattress, and Carl pressed her body down hard, making her prone and prostrate.
He raised his powerful body in his arms, holding himself up to hump hard into her cunt. He hammered fast and brutally, feeling his sperm explode in his heavy balls.
He felt it rage up the pulsing pipe of his prick. It jetted out mightily from the head of his cock and splashed hotly into Carlotta's cunt. His thick cum filled her hole, drowning her with his scorching male seed.
Carlotta felt Carl's fiery wad blast into her already incendiary furnace, flooding her hole with the combustion of his cum.
She moaned in final ecstasy, as did Caroline, watching her brother pop his stud rocks in the swooned cunt of the prone woman.
Carl collapsed against Carlotta's body. He reached for Caroline's cunt and withdrew the dildo, touching her wet pubic forest.
He wanted to eat his sister's cunt, but he was suddenly exhausted.
Caroline wanted to suck the sperm and the honey of Carlotta's pussy from her brother's great, exploded fuck rod, but she found herself too spent to do anything but fall down upon the sheet, her legs spread out, her groin close to Carlotta's famous profile.
Caroline was awakened by the wind of Carlotta's heavy breathing on her bush. She heard the sounds of Carlotta's snoring. The actress was sleeping off her drunken, over-sexed stupor.
Caroline smiled reflectively, thinking of the performance Carlotta would give before the cameras in a few hours.
She heard her brother snoring. Carl was sleeping upon Carlotta's back, his cock still entrenched in her hole.
Caroline looked at her naked brother's body, and fought a terrible urge to lean over and kiss his hard, lightly hair-covered ass. She would have liked to lick his sweaty asshole, to spread his legs and dart her tongue over his balls.
But she knew that she could not do it. It would lead to more, and then more. However much she desired her younger brother and wanted to fuck with him, Caroline knew that it would not be right. If they fucked once, they would never be able to stop. They had to deny this one wonderful urge that, once started, would never leave them alone. If they fucked once, they would never be able to keep their hands or their groins off each other.
It would be the way if she ever allowed anything to happen between herself and her father. Once begun, there would be escape. Her desire for her father's love expressed through his body, her desperate yearning for his mammoth cock, was the obsession of her life. She wanted her father and her brother more than anything in the world. She would gladly be poor and hungry, without clothes or cars or perfume, if only she could lie forever in their arms, kissing their beloved masculine bodies, feeling their hard cocks in her cunt and asshole. She would give everything up without a wince or tingle of regret. But she knew that it must never be.
The thought saddened her as she lay close to the coupled slumbering bodies of Carl and Carlotta. Listening to her brother snoring quietly against Carlotta's moist back, Caroline closed her eyes for a moment to relish a fantasy.
She imagined that she, Carl and her father were in this room, naked, in bed, fucking. She imagined Carl's hot cock up her cunt, and her father's enormous male organ stuffing her asshole with its potency.
Then she imagined it the other way, Carl in her ass and Daddy in her pussy. They fucked her wonderfully at the same time, and she felt both their cocks in her body, humping, pumping, screwing her to life and death at the same time.
She imagined their sperm blasting into her body, filling her with their violent life.
She forced herself to open her eyes and apprehend the reality of the room. It was too much for her. The fantasy was too lovely to come true, and the reality was too deeply lost in history. She knew that Carlotta would go away. The happy episode would not be repeated. It would remain the closest approximation she would ever have to real sex with her brother.
And the taste of Carlotta's cunt was the closest she would ever come to tasting her father's sperm. She had only imagined its presence in Carlotta's box. It had not really been there; she had not really tasted it. She had only dreamed, and dreaming was all she could ever do.
Quietly, she moved her limbs, stole away from the bed and left Carl and Carlotta to snore in the somnolent post-coital embrace. Neither one woke, or even stirred, as she left the room.
Caroline took a robe from her room and went downstairs.
She went into the pantry and made herself a drink. She felt a melancholy she knew that nothing could dispel, but liquor would help, if only a little.
She lit a cigarette and took her drink out to the patio. She sat down by the edge of the pool.
She dipped her leg into the water and felt the cool caress soothe her for a moment. Then she felt a tear swelling involuntarily in her eyes.
She kicked the water angrily, splashing herself accidentally in the process.
She gulped from her glass, feeling the strong Scotch burning her throat. But she knew it would not help. Her life was ruined by intense desire for what she could not have, the two things in the world that she had to deny herself. She could never have her father or her brother. She would never have the two pleasures that could satisfy her.
She thought of Carl and Carlotta. They were up in the bedroom together, their bodies joined while they slept. How would they face each other when they awakened from their dazed stupor? What would they say to one another.
More important, what would she say. She didn't know what would happen when the intoxication wore off and Carlotta became her cunty self again.
She knew she could not face either of them in the morning. She could face Carl again, in a while; she doubted that she could ever look Carlotta in the eye again.
She had to get away. There was no choice.
She ran upstairs, dressed, threw some things in a small suitcase, scribbled a note to Carl, left it on his bed and got in her car. She drove quickly, and late that morning she arrived in San Francisco. The morning haze was just beginning to lift.
Caroline had no particular love for San Francisco. She had come only because she needed to get away from the messy scene she had left on Wilshire Boulevard, and to get away she had to go someplace.
She drove down to Fisherman's wharf and parked her car. She spent a few hours wandering around the Wharf. She had a drink at the delightful bar at the foot of Hyde Street. An attractive man flirted with her and offered her lunch. She did not want sex, but she did want some lunch. Just the sound of the word made her realize how ravenously hungry she was.
She knew that the man probably wanted to fuck her, and she supposed that he would expect her to put out for him after lunch. She was not certain that she would want to but she accepted his offer anyway .They had perfect Margaritas and an excellent Mexican lunch in Ghirardelli Square. It turned out that the man had known Caroline's mother. In fact, he had once known Muriel in the biblical sense. He was candid with Caroline about the short affair they had had years ago in Los Angeles, when Muriel was still married to Simon. Caroline found the man a delightful luncheon companion and his anecdotes about Muriel amused her. She marveled at the smallness of the world.
It was apparent that the man did not want to have sex with her any longer. Caroline supposed that he had qualms about fucking the daughter of a woman he had been with in the past.
They parted cordially, having enjoyed a brief interlude, knowing that they would not meet again.
Caroline walked the few short blocks to the Cannery and looked at everything that was for sale, wanting none of it.
She began to think about Muriel. It was funny that she had bumped into one of her mother's lovers. Caroline had not been thinking of Muriel when she decided to drive to San Francisco, but now her mother was in her mind. It would be silly not to pay the bitch a visit, and she was already at the bottom of Russian Hill. Muriel lived only a short distance away, a steep walk up the hill.
Caroline had not seen her mother in years. She was curious. She decided it would be an amusing way to spend a few hours.
She decided not to telephone. It would be better, more of a shock, for her to simply arrive.
She boarded the tourist-crowded cable car at the foot of Hyde Street. She had rarely seen so many cameras in her life. All the overweight people from Oregon, Iowa, New Jersey, or wherever, snapped their flashbulbs in each other's faces, wanting to capture forever their memories of riding up and down the steep hills on the curious cable cars.
She was glad to get off. Her eyes stung from the intense light of the flashbulbs, and everything looked white to her for a few moments. The sky and the bay looked white and Alcatraz seemed bleached out.
She had never been to her mother's house on Chestnut Street, but it was not hard to find. She could recognize her mother's house by the unkept lawn, the windows with every curtain drawn, and the car with a dented fender in the garage. Caroline knew that no one but her mother would live so chaotically in the midst of Russian Hill's staid elegance.
The small patch of grass facing the street looked like weeds growing in a desert. Caroline knew that Muriel could afford to engage someone to come once a week to care for it, but her mother was simply too lazy to bother with such details. She was not too lazy to have her hair done before a rendezvous, she was not too lazy to maintain a constant supply of every kind of liquor imaginable. But she was too indolent to care for anything that did not concern her body or her appetites.
Caroline supposed it was this trait in Muriel's character that had made her. such an insouciant mother.
Naturally, her mother was at home. Caroline was not surprised to find Muriel as slim as ever, as sleek as ever, as coifed and polished and young-looking as ever. It did not surprise Caroline to find her mother this way, because Muriel had always taken care of herself. It was her one achievement in life. It was a little amazing that the bitch could keep it so well together, despite all the drinking and debauchery she had indulged in since the day she slurped out her own mother's womb, probably with a hairy cunt, a throbbing clit and a martini in her hand.
Muriel was astounded to see Caroline at her door. The sight of her daughter almost made the woman drop her glass.
"Caroline, for God's sake, when did you get in town, you look marvelous, how are you." Muriel babbled effervescently.
That was the way Muriel spoke, asking questions and making statements in one breath so that it was always impossible to reply.
"I'm all right, mother. You look marvelous, too, everything considered," Caroline said, qualifying her compliment.
"What do you mean everything considered?"
Muriel twisted her face, which was never in repose, into an expression of mock-bafflement.
"Nothing, mother, forget it. Are you going to ask me in, or are we going to in the doorway like old hags?"
"Of course, my love, come in," Muriel said.
Caroline winced. Her mother always called every one 'my love,' using the same endearment for bartenders as she did for her own daughter.
She winced again as her mother leaned forward to give Caroline one of her cold, meaningless kisses.
Then Caroline saw Muriel turn her head slightly, offering her cheek to Caroline's mouth. This was the cue for Caroline to give her mother a sweet daughterly peck, but Caroline coldly ignored it, stepping past her mother to enter the house.
Flowers were dead in vases, glasses with dissolved ice cubes Uttered the tables, magazines were scattered on the chairs and the floor.
"What's the matter, mother, does the cleaning woman have a hangover?" Caroline asked tartly.
"As a matter of fact she's in Hawaii. I think the cleaning woman has more money than I do. Would you like a drink, my love?" Muriel asked, with no punctuation in her voice.
Caroline hesitated. It was only four in the afternoon and she had already had three drinks, one in the bar at the bottom of Hyde Street and two Margaritas at lunch. But she had to have something if she was to endure an afternoon with Muriel. They really had nothing to talk about; they might as well get drunk together.
"That would be nice, mother," Caroline said.
"Martinis all right? It's such a bother to fuss with different drinks."
"Fine, mother. I'll help you."
They went to the kitchen. Caroline was appalled by the number of empty Gin bottles lined up along the wall. There were cracker crumbs on the stove and open anchovy cans on the counter. Her mother was living in an expensive slum.
Caroline remembered Carlotta's line of the night before.
"So, mother," Caroline said, taking the glass and sipping from it, "tell me, how's the fucking up here?"
Muriel nearly choked on her olive. "My God, Caroline! What a question for a daughter to ask!"
"Actually, mother, it's quite a natural question, considering that you are my mother and I am your daughter. Mothers are supposed to help their daughters at certain stages of life. Or didn't you know that? Didn't you know that you were supposed to tell me, for example, about menstruation, or boys, or sex, or how not to get knocked up? Did it never occur to you that a daughter is supposed to learn certain things from her mother, and if she doesn't she has to learn them somewhere else?" Caroline was startled by her own eloquence; years of resentment expressed themselves in her tirade; years of anger and hurt poured out despite herself.
"Caroline, please. Can't we have a nice friendly talk without exhuming all the unfortunate debris of the past? Do we have to go into this right away? After all, you just got here." Muriel protested weakly.
"No, mother, you're wrong. I did not 'just get here.' I've been here for seventeen years. You just never had the time to notice." Caroline stared blank-faced at her mother, sipping her martini. She sucked the liquor greedily into her body, as though the visit from her daughter were an ordeal for which she needed instant strength.
Caroline watched her mother's eyelids lower and her enormous dark eyelashes flutter. Muriel's attention was focused on the drink in her hand.
Muriel turned her back on Caroline and walked out of the kitchen and back into the slovenly living room.
Caroline followed. She sat down beside her mother on the sofa, sipped her drink, lit a cigarette. She was silent for a while.
When she spoke her voice was determined. She wanted her mother to realize how negligent she had been.
"Mother, I know all about you. I know that you were never faithful to Daddy for more than ten minutes at a time. I know that you've had as many cocks up your garbage can cunt as you've had drinks. You've probably had more abortions than hangovers. I can never forgive you. It isn't just the fucking around that I resent; it's the total neglect of certain obligations you accepted, or should have, when you got married and had children. I'm not saying that every woman who marries has to be one hundred percent monogamous. That's a little archaic, maybe even unnatural, I don't know. But you don't rub your filth in your husband's face. You don't advertise your cunt in every bar in Los Angeles, as though you were having a garage sale. And you don't just ignore your children. You don't let your daughter remain ignorant of what's going to happen to her own body. I had my first period in a classroom, Mother. No one had told me it would happen. I was scared to death, and too frightened to ask anyone about what was happening to me."
Muriel looked at her daughter wryly. "Oh, God, Caroline. What was I to do. I'm sorry for what you went through. I'm sorry for Carl and for Simon, too. What else can I say. To say that I'm sorry doesn't undo anything, does it! I guess there are some women who should never get married and never have children, and I suppose I'm one of them. I can't help being what I am, Caroline. You can't ask me to be something I'm not. Maybe I can't even ask you to understand me, just as you can't ask me to understand you. Maybe we are not meant to understand each other. But, God, your first period must have been years ago. Why are you bringing it up now? Do you have to dwell on it forever?"
Caroline looked at her mother with an expression of complete disdain. Muriel was disgusting.
Muriel crossed her long, beautiful legs. "Maybe you are just one of the mistakes in my life, my love. But can't we let bygones be bygones?" Muriel raised her glass, smiled dazzlingly and clinked glasses with Caroline.
Caroline was appalled. She stared at her Mother, unable to adjust her face in any suitable expression.
"Good, that's settled. Let's talk about something else. Oh, I know. Come upstairs with me. I found some marvelous dresses yesterday. They were so divine I couldn't resist them. Come upstairs with me and I'll show them to you." Muriel frothed happily. Other than cocks and liquor, clothes were her only interest in life. She invited her daughter to approve of her taste and her acquisitions as she would any other woman. It was as though she were ingratiating herself to the wife of a man whose husband she had slept with. Muriel was offering her daughter some silly, typical girl-talk.
Muriel reached for Caroline's hand and dragged her from the sofa and up the stairs to her bedroom, which was even messier than the living room. Clothes were scattered everywhere.
Muriel opened an enormous walk-in closet that was brimming with clothes. Eagerly she began to show her daughter her newest purchases.
Caroline spotted a full-length negligee. It was pale blue transparent fabric, with soft feather plumes at the hem and around the plunging neck.
"That one is lovely, Mother. Why don't you model it for me?" Caroline said.
"Of course, my love," Muriel said, always grateful for an opportunity to model clothes and show off her superbly preserved body.
Without any hesitation Muriel began to peel her clothes off in front of Caroline.
"While you're at it, Mother, I'd love to try on that black one," Caroline said, pointing to a negligee she spotted hanging from a hook.
"Of course," her mother said, handing it to Caroline.
Caroline watched her mother undress.
CHAPTER SEVEN
First she saw Muriel's pale shoulders, then the shapely thighs extending from tiny red panties. The white of her mother's flesh against the red satin of the panties struck Caroline as being appropriately sluttish.
She had to admit that her mother had a good body. It would be good for any woman to have a body like Muriel's, but it was extraordinary for a thirty-six year old lush. Her mother's body showed no signs of having been through the mill.
When Caroline saw her mother unfasten her bra to expose her white abundant breasts, she decided that this was going to be more than fashion show.
The sight of her mother's tits awed Caroline. She began to strip herself, unzipping her jeans and peeling them off her long slender legs.
She unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her bra-less torso. Her breasts flopped free of the clinging fabric.
Caroline began to lower her panties from her warming pelvis.
"Oh, that's not necessary, Caroline," Muriel said, wrapping the negligee around her body, which was bra-less but still covered at the crotch by the red satin panties.
"I want to get the whole effect, Mother," Caroline said, appreciating the double meaning of her own words.
Caroline stripped off her panties. She caught her Mother's dazed expression as she advanced toward the mirror, which Muriel was hogging, admiring her body in the blue plumed negligee.
"That looks lovely on you, my love," Muriel said, although she scarcely looked at Caroline's heating body; she was entranced by the image of her own flesh in the mirror.
Caroline looked at her mother in the mirror. She saw the firm, plentiful breasts under the plunging plumed decolletage. She saw the sleek concavity of her mother's torso, the lean stomach and the slim but curving hips. She saw the bright red panties through the pale blue transparent fabric.
"Those red pants look terrible, Mother. I can't admire the negligee if you keep them on. You'll look much better without them. Take them off." Caroline's voice was adamant.
"I don't want to, Caroline," Muriel said, obviously reluctant to reveal her naked twat to her daughter, despite the fact that Caroline had nothing on under the black lace negligee.
Caroline wanted to see the dirty jungle of her mother's smelly beaver. She espied a nylon stocking hanging over the back of a chair. Quickly, she seized it in her hands and looped it around Muriel's neck.
She pulled on the stocking, choking Muriel's long slender white swan neck.
"You heard me, bitch! Get those fucking pants off," Caroline barked, her voice loud with contempt.
She was not going to be dismissed as a mere mistake in Muriel's messy life.
Muriel could hardly breath. In a gagging voice she pleaded with her hostile daughter for mercy.
"Get them off, dammit! Peel those whorish pants from your foul body. Let me see your trashy box!" Caroline insisted.
Obediently, Muriel lowered her hands to her crotch. She stretched the elastic waist of the panties, peeled them from her box and lowered them down her creamy thighs.
She knew that she had no choice. Her daughter was strangling her with the nylon stocking.
Caroline tightened her leash around Muriel's neck, and delighted in the desperate gasps of her frightened mother. She arched her foot and picked the panties from the floor with her toe, lifting them to her hand.
Caroline held her mother's red panties in her hand. She looked at her mother's dark thick pubic hair, awed by the denseness of the thick forest. A man could bury his cock in the tangled pillow of that jungle.
"Spread you legs, Mother," Caroline demanded, pulling the stocking harder against Muriel's neck.
Muriel was speechless. She could hardly breathe. Terrified of what her demented daughter might do, Muriel spread her feet apart on the white shag carpet.
Watching her mother's terrified face and trembling body in the mirror, Caroline reached inside the pale blue negligee and rubbed the red satin panties on her mother's white flesh.
With one hand securing the nylon stocking around Muriel's neck, Caroline rubbed the panties in her mother's ass-crack with her other hand. She pushed a panty-covered finger into Muriel's asshole, invading the tender territory.
She wiggled her finger in the dark smelly hole, making Muriel's red panties absorb the flavor of her ass.
Caroline moved her hand to touch her mother's beaver. She rubbed the panties into her mother's pubic forest and then pushed menacingly into the hot gism receptacle of Muriel's public cunt.
Muriel tried to defend herself against Caroline's aggressions, struggling to pull the panties from her pussy.
But Caroline would not tolerate Muriel's resistance.
She seized Muriel's struggling hands and forced them behind her back. Mercilessly, she bent her mother's arms at the elbow, raised them on her back and coiled the ends of the nylon stocking around them.
Keeping the stocking tight around Muriel's neck, Caroline fastened her mother's hands in a strong nylon knot, making Muriel powerless to defend herself. When she struggled to release her hands, which was a futile effort, the movement pulled the stocking tighter on her neck, choking her unbearably.
Caroline crammed the red panties deeper into Muriel's cunt, feeling the wetness of her mother's hole on her stabbing fingers.
Pressing hard against her mother's tits, Caroline pushed the bound body into a chair.
Muriel jumped to her feet but Caroline pushed her down again.
"Don't you dare try to move, cunt!" Caroline barked.
Muriel stared at her daughter in shock as Caroline took another stocking in her hand and tied it quickly and tightly around her mother's ankles.
She bound the feet securely, making movement impossible for Muriel, who knew that her daughter now had complete control over her body.
Muriel writhed in the chair, helpless. There was no use even trying to stand up. Caroline had tied her ankles together in merciless knots, and there would be no way for Muriel to maintain her balance. Were she to attempt standing, she would be unable to walk. She would fall over, face down on the floor. She was utterly bound and defenseless.
Caroline adjusted Muriel's body in the chair, stripping the pale blue negligee from her flesh.
"I like this one more, Mama, my love," she said vindictively, stripping the black negligee from her body and wrapping the blue one over her shoulders, delighting in the texture of plumes against her breasts.
Caroline lifted a hand mirror and a silver hair brush from the surface of Muriel's dressing table.
With the handle of the silver brush she pressed into the opening of Muriel's cunt. She pushed it in beyond the opening, deep into Muriel's surprisingly wet pussy, forcing the panties further into the dark depths of her mother's fuckhole.
Caroline moved her fingers over the stiff bristles of the hair brush. They were hard bristles. They were meant to be used on thick, luxuriant hair. They were coarse.
Caroline pulled the handle of the brush from her mother's cunt, leaving the red panties embedded in the hole.
Caroline held the stiff-bristled hair brush in her hand and lurched her body forward between her mother's spread legs.
She parted the pale blue negligee that hung on her body, enjoying the movement of the plumes against her young breasts. She exposed her flesh to her mother's shocked eyes and saw her mother gape at the sight of her naked breasts and the bush of her excited groin.
"Eat my cunt, my love," Caroline hissed sardonically at her appalled mother, delighting in the shock of Muriel's expression and the ghostly look of her fear-blanched skin, "stick your tongue up my hot hole. Lick and eat me!"
"No, Caroline! This is revolting!" Muriel said in horror.
"Yes, cunt! Do as I say!" Caroline turned the brush in her hand and spanked Muriel's bush with the coarse bristles. She slapped her mother's crotch once, then again, and ground the bristles angrily into the pubic jungle.
Muriel felt a bristle stab her clit. The hard impact, and the repeated impact, and the hard pressure Caroline applied, created an incredible agony in Muriel's sex berry.
The pain was excruciating, but, despite herself, Muriel thrilled to a bizarre pleasure. Her daughter's abuse was an outrage against nature, but she knew that she had been an unnatural mother. She knew that Caroline was punishing her ruthlessly; she knew also that she deserved it.
Caroline straddled the chair and Muriel's body. She took Muriel's styled hair in both fists and pushed it toward her scalding groin.
"Open your mouth and work me with your tongue, slut!" Caroline hissed, pressing the hard bristles against her mother's body.
She felt her mother's lips press reluctantly against her pubic hair.
Caroline pressed her mother's face harder against her hot groin, making Muriel's lips accept the hot moisture of her pussy opening.
"Get your tongue in there, cunt!" Caroline barked lewdly.
Muriel stretched her mouth open and probed her tongue into her daughter's cunt. She tasted the hot saline juices of Caroline's pussy and was amazed at the heat of her daughter's womanhood.
"Eat!" Caroline hissed, like an angry mother who has prepared fish for children who live on hot dogs. Holding the small mirror in her hand, Caroline lowered it between her legs, making it reflect the sight of Muriel's face licking the juices from her hole.
Caroline watched the mirror's reflection of Muriel's tongue digging into her cunt.
The sight made her clit get hotter. She knew she was going to climax in a moment.
Quickly, she pressed the stiff-bristled brush harder against her mother's bush. Then, pressing hard, she moved it up Muriel's torso, making contact with the naked breasts.
She raised it in the air and quickly smacked one tit at a time, striking the tender globes with the painful bristles.
Muriel moaned in pain and pleasure, feeling her cunt drip between her legs. She felt the hard knots of nylon at her wrists and ankles. She writhed in the chair, tasting the mouthfuls of her daughter's steaming pussy.
Caroline struck her mother's tits again with the hair brush, slapping the hard bristles against the white sensitive skin.
She returned the brush to Muriel's bush, and began to rub it hard.
Caroline arched her body, tensing with wonderful exploding pleasure.
She dropped the mirror on the floor and used the free hand to touch her hot swooning clit. She pressed hard against it, rubbing it quickly with her finger.
She rubbed her hot clit frantically and forced her cunt into her mother's gobbling face.
She saw Muriel twitching with lewd pleasure, and the sight of her writhing mother made her climax build unbearably in her flesh.
Fires flamed in her clit, which swooned to her touch and to the heat of her mother's tongue in her clit.
Orgasm rose in her body, breaking its great flesh wave. She convulsed from head to foot, trembling against Muriel's gobbling sucking face.
She stabbed her clit with her fingers, feeling pleasure break her body apart.
She roared in overwhelming ecstasy, feeling her shameless orgasm explode in her loins.
"AHH! Motherfuck!" She screamed obscenely.
She had come.
Quickly she pulled her discharged groin away from Muriel's face.
She jumped into her pants, buttoned her blouse and tidied her disarrayed hair.
She went back to the chair and looked down at Muriel's bound body.
Caroline rammed the handle of the silver hand mirror into her mother's hole.
She folded the pale blue and the black negligees neatly and tucked them under her arms.
"I like these negligees, Mother. Thank you for letting me take them."
Muriel did not reply. She was writhing her body, gyrating her cunt and clit against the handle of the hand mirror Caroline had crammed in her cunt. She was making herself come. And come she did. Like never before.
Caroline was relieved to find the house on Wilshire Boulevard empty. She was glad no one was home and that she did not have to face anyone yet or explain her absence.
She noticed that Carlotta's clothes had been taken from her closet. On her dressing table she found a note from Carl. He wrote that Carlotta had fled the house of her own will. Carl had not meant to show the film to their father. But when Carl had awakened the next morning, Carlotta had already disappeared, taking her clothes and everything with her. In his surprise Carl had forgotten to take the camera and film from Simon's dressing room. He had simply forgotten about the film altogether.
When Simon returned late in the afternoon he found the camera and had run the film that night. Fortunately, Carl had turned the camera off before getting into the action himself, but it had been impossible to keep Caroline's identity a secret. Her face was in almost every frame, as was her cunt.
Carl wrote that he had assured Simon that Carlotta had seduced Caroline. Their father had half believed the story, and half questioned it. Carl had explained that he had filmed the scene to expose their father to the truth about Carlotta and to protect Caroline. Simon had seemed to believe this part of the story, but he was looking all over town for Carlotta, determined to hear her side. Carl had gone with their father in search of Carlotta. He wrote that he would do his best to deny any accusations Carlotta made.
Caroline read her brother's note a second time. It was long and convoluted and hard to interpret clearly.
The situation both appalled and amused her. She wondered how she and Carl had ever gotten themselves into such a ridiculous mess.
But she was too tired to think about it. The long drives between L.A. and San Francisco, and the torrid scene in her mother's bedroom had utterly exhausted her. It seemed years since she had slept.
She collapsed on her bed, planning to take a short nap.
Hours later she awakened. The clock by her bed told her it was four in the morning.
Thoughts began to stir in her head, forcing her to attention. She could not possibly go back to sleep. She needed to get up.
She decided a swim was the only remedy for her condition. The water would soothe her and distract her from her torment.
She put on her slinky bikini, the one she had worn under her dress to the porno theatre on Hollywood Boulevard. She stepped out onto the terrace and went down the steps to the pool.
She jumped into the water and began to swim vigorously. She swam fifteen lengths of the pool and then became strangely enervated.
She felt the warm water on her skin. It felt delicious between her legs.
She began to float on her back, stretching her arms out to support her body on the water's surface. Her blonde hair spread out on the water.
She drifted slowly toward the edge of the pool.
Suddenly, she felt her wrists seized by hands and saw her father's angry face. His dark eyes glared at her.
He pulled her from the pool, dragging her by the wrists out of the water and onto the tiles around the edge of the pool. Her body trembled with fright as her father forced her to stand on her feet.
He pulled her to his body and she felt his huge muscular chest crushing her young breasts as he squeezed her into his strong, tight embrace.
Her father wore only his swimming trunks. Through the wet top of her skimpy bikini Caroline could feel the hairs of his chest scratching her nipples, and she felt his bulging maleness, his huge balls and his hard cock, pressing against her groin through her wet bikini bottoms.
"Daddy, what are you doing to me?" she whimpered.
"I saw Carlotta eating your pussy, bitch, and now I'm going to fuck it with my cock."
As her father tore her bikini top from her struggling body, her mind reeled with revulsion, but her legs trembled with desire.
