Grant Walker didn't think of himself as a sadist. He was just doing his duty as counselor at Tranton High School when he made Betty take down her red panties and bend over his armchair. True, he licked his lips at the sight of her round, white buttocks still plump with baby fat. His hand was sweaty as it slapped painfully against that fat, teen-aged bottom. But it was his duty. Betty squealed and kicked when his fingers occasionally missed their target, but she didn't try to get away! As Betty's butt turned a warm, rosy color, Grant's eyes strayed between the tender, quivering white flesh inside her thighs. It was a temptation. The painful throbbing reminded him just how much of a temptation it really was....
ONE
She went to the armchair and bent over it without him telling her to; then he was standing behind her, looking at the soft, white buttocks that opened to reveal a bright red anal star-and below there was the soft fringe of hair and even softer lips that were already open, ready...
He reached to his crotch-his penis-his horse-cock was swelling. . .
"I'll help you, Betty," he whispered, lifting his hand. He'd done it before. He remembered the first time when his fingers had trembled as he lifted the hem of her skirt until it was around her waist. She was wearing tight, red briefs that strained over her young, rounded buttocks.
"I'll have to take these down," he had told her. "You want to be spanked bare, don't you?"
He had slipped his fingers inside the tight waistband, slipped the panties down as she lifted herself slightly to help him.
Her buttocks were white, unmarked, and the flesh seemed to quiver in anticipation. He had touched it lightly; it had been soft and warm under his hand.
The memory made Grant's hand tingle with anticipation. He was sweating, but he didn't notice.
She had opened her thighs slightly that time, then closed them-and he had had a brief glimpse of downy brunette pubic hair between the crevice of flesh. She begged him to do it and he spanked her.
His hand came down and he remembered the perverse satisfaction as his fingers sank into the softness of the young girl's buttocks...
She had wriggled her hips and a tiny trickle of wetness oozed between her thighs.
He had let his hand fall onto her bottom; casually, naturally, then gently drew his finger up between the red, throbbing cheeks. He had felt her flesh quivering, and her skin was slightly moist.
"Am I hurting you?" he had asked.
She had nodded an affirmative. But she begged him to continue. Grant remembered that. She had begged him to continue.
He had brought his hand up-then slapped down with all his strength. A muted squeal spurted from Betty's lips. He had seen the cheeks of her bottom part, momentarily, showing the tiny red star of her anus, then close and shiver. He had resisted the intolerable temptation to thrust his finger into the warm wetness of the little girl's anal orifice-that time.
Grant shivered at the memory. He remembered so clearly how it had started....
Grant Walker stared through his living-room window and thought what a lucky guy he was.
It was only four o'clock in the afternoon and his day's work was already done ... If he could call it work, he mentally amended his thought. Being social counselor at Tranton High School didn't entail too much effort. It was a new position, and he was the first to fill it.
He lit a cigarette, smoked it leisurely, thoughtfully. If any pupil at the school had a problem-personal or otherwise-they consulted him, and he listened to them, then did his best to help them. That was his job. All his job!
Mostly, he admitted to himself, all he had to do was listen ... and he was pretty good at listening.
He listened right then-and heard his wife, Maureen, talking to their sixteen-year-old daughter, Lori, in the kitchen.
He was lucky to have a wife like Maureen, he told himself, smiling at the thought. At thirty-five, she was even more attractive than she had been when he'd married her at eighteen.
Grant stood up, glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't so bad himself for thirty-nine, he decided, straightening his shoulders and noticing that his hair was still as black as it had been seventeen years ago.
"I won't be late-" It was his daughter, Lori's, voice. "Be home by eleven, Momsie-you don't have to worry-"
She was probably going to a movie with some kid from the school, he guessed. It was nice to have his daughter as a student at the school where he worked. He figured it made it easier to keep an eye on her, see that she was all right.
He moved toward the hall door when the bell gave its chime. Someone to see Lori most likely-but it could be a student for him. It wouldn't be the first time that some confused kid had come to see him at home.
"Yes, he's in the living room, Betty-would you like me to tell him you're here?" It was his wife's voice, and Grant frowned, trying to think of a student named Betty who would come to consult him at home.
"I-I just want to talk to him, Mrs. Walker-if-if he's busy, I'll come back again-"
He recognized the voice: Betty Malone, the quiet little brunette who was in the same class as his daughter.
Grant stepped into the hallway.
"Come right in, Betty-it's quite all right-"
The sixteen-year-old girl blinked her big brown eyes at Grant, and a small flush suffused her dimpled cheeks.
"I-I hope I'm not bothering you, Mr. Walker-it's just that I wanted to see you-to-to talk to you about-about something-"
Her voice was small and nervous, so Grant gave his most disarming smile and beckoned her into the room.
"It's all right, Betty-"
She entered the living-room with tiny, mincing steps then perched herself on the edge of the chair that Grant indicated. He closed the door, surveyed the nervous, little girl. She was still wearing the short, gray skirt and white blouse that she must have worn at school that day, and as she squirmed her buttocks on the chair's edge, Grant had a glimpse of tiny black briefs that showed at the top of her bare, rounded legs under her skirt.
He seated himself opposite to her, dragged his eyes off her thighs and asked: "Now, what's bothering you, Betty?"
She lifted her head, glanced at his face, then her eyes flickered, nervously, to the closed door.
"Is it-like private, here?" she asked in a whisper.
Grant's eyebrows went up. "Why, yes-no one will disturb us-"
Her lips moved with emotion. "I-I mean, Mr. Walker, I wouldn't want anyone to hear what I'm gonna tell you-isn't there any place more like-" she shrugged, helplessly. "I mean-your daughter, Lori, is in my class at school-and I know she's home-and your wife, Mrs. Walker, I wouldn't want her to hear-"
Grant's forehead creased in a small frown. "I have my study under the garage," he said, "where I'm writing a book." He smiled at his own confession. "It's quiet in there-quite sound-proof in fact."
Betty's head jerked up when he said "sound-proof". "That's what I'd like," she whispered, "a place where no one can hear. like you said-sound-proof. Can we talk down there?"
Grant hesitated, then: "Very well, Betty-if you'd feel more comfortable in my study, we can go down there."
He rose to his feet, looked at the small girl with a perplexed expression on his face.
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Walker. I'd feel much more free to talk." Betty gave him a tremulous, grateful smile, and rose to her feet.
Grant led the way into the hallway, moved to the kitchen door, spoke softly to his wife, then opened the stairway door that led to his private den under the garage.
He nodded his head, and Betty delicately stepped down the stairs ahead of him. Grant followed with a slightly puzzled frown on his even-featured face.
Grant's den was small but cozy; the floor was covered with a thick piece of broadloom that he'd bought at an auction the year before; a half-filled bookcase covered one wall and the other walls-windowless and covered with acoustic tile-were bare save for one abstract painting, a clock and the air-vents of the small air-conditioning unit.
"Sit down, Betty."
Grant waved his hand toward the deep armchair at the side of his desk.
Betty moved toward the armchair, then hesitated, seating herself on the small foot hassock in front of the chair instead.
Grant, about to sit in his swivel chair in front of his desk, changed his mind and slouched down in the armchair.
"Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?" Grant asked.
Betty dragged her knees up, clasped them, giving
Grant a close-up view of her nylon briefs and the bare white flesh below them.
"It's like awful," she whispered, "I mean what I did with the three of them-"
She dropped her eyes, wriggled her buttocks on the low stool until she was perched on the edge.
Grant sat very still; watching and waiting. A tiny strand of brunette hair had escaped from the leg of her briefs, and it drew his eyes like a magnet.
"Two of them I hardly knew, Mr. Walker, and yet-and yet-" she lifted her eyes, looked at Grant's face, "they did it to me."
"Did what?" Grant asked in a low voice.
She lowered her eyes again. "You know what I mean. They screwed me-you know-made out." Betty's face flushed, and the words seemed to choke in her throat.
Grant sat very still. "You mean you were raped, Betty? Is that what you're saying?"
She shook her head, violently. "No, no, no, Mr. Walker-it's worse. I let them-all three of them-"
"Let them what?"
She pursed her lips, moistened them, then spewed it out: "Fuck me-all three of them fucked me!"
Grant kept his voice calm with an effort. "Against your will, Betty? They did this by force?"
She shook her head again. "No! like I told you, I let them-" Her voice broke off, then she pulled herself together. "I feel so bad about it-like guilty-that I wanted to talk to someone, tell it like it happened. I-I feel so guilty, Mr. Walker."
Grant stirred, uncomfortably. "Are you sure you want to tell it to me, Betty? What about your mother or your father or-"
The girl's head jerked up. "My father's dead, Mr. Walker. My mother-my mother-" Her lip curled. "She's drunk all the time-or most of the time anyways."
Betty's small breasts bobbed with her emotion. "And if you're gonna suggest I talk to a minister or somethin' then I can't because we don't even go to any church."
Grant took a deep breath. The young girl's face was tightened up, and her hands were clenched into fists on top of her naked knees.
"So it's gotta be you, Mr. Walker. And you've gotta tell me what's right-and do what's right."
Grant dropped his eyes. How far did a school counselor's duties go ?
"Maybe you'd better tell me all about it," he said with a sigh, closing his eyes and pushing himself back in his armchair.
"That's what I wanna-"
"All right, Betty. Tell it to me."
She took a deep breath, then began:
"It was really because of Don, Mr. Walker. He's my boy friend, sort of-he's in the next grade at the school and we've been out a few times, like to drive-ins and to a couple of small dance-spots on the edge of town, so when he asked me to go to die Myscroft with him on Friday-well gee, I was real glad." A smile lit up Betty's pretty face, as at a pleasant memory, then she dropped her eyes, her face sobered and she went on in a lower tone of voice.
The Myscroft, Grant thought, that was the motel, restaurant and bar ten miles south of the city. Not the ideal place for a sixteen-year-old girl like Betty!
"We got there around nine," Betty murmured, "and there was a real cool combo, so we danced some-had a couple of drinks, then these two guys came in and joined us at our table. They were older than Don, but he knew them real well and they were generous, buying us drinks an' food, and I danced with them an' we had a lot of fun. One of the guys, Brad, was real funny, makin' us laugh, an' I guess I was a little high."
"How old were these fellows?" Grant asked quietly.
"I guess that Brad's about twenty-two or three-and Tim-well maybe he's twenty-five." She looked up, stared into Grant's face, "I don't really know, Mr. Walker-we didn't talk about ages." She gave a strained giggle.
Grant waited in silence.
"When the bar was closing-I guess it was pretty late-one of the guys suggested that we all go to his motel an' have another drink before Don took me home, and that's just where we went.
"He had a nice place; two big beds and a TV and bathroom, and they gave me a drink with a funny name." Betty wrinkled her brow, "I think it was called Pernod, I'm not sure, and maybe they put somethin' in it because after I'd drank it I began to feel real hot-all worked up, like sexy-then Don began neckin' with me on the bed."
Betty's face seemed pale and she lowered her eyes. She dropped her hand to the hem of her skirt, reached under it and spread her fingers across the crotch of her black nylon briefs as though she was protecting herself.
"I was wearing a very short skirt, Mr. Walker, and Don had dragged it up to my waist while we were necking. Then he pulled my panties off." She dragged air into her lungs, and her hand on her crotch seemed to stiffen. "He began caressing me. I could feel his fingers sliding into then out of my pussy, teasing the lips, makin' me feel wild. I was squirming and making noises while he darted his tongue into my mouth. Then he lifted his face away from mine, began unbuttoning my blouse and I looked up, saw the other two guys standin' at the foot of the bed, staring at me-looking right between my legs as I lay on my back, all stretched out, like I was doing a split. And-and I knew they were starin' at my pussy, Mr. Walker. I knew it, but I was so damned hot, worked-up that I didn't care. Then I saw their cocks-" Betty's fingers seemed to dig into the thin material of her briefs, and Grant thought he saw a sliver of moisture glide down her thigh. "They'd both unzipped their pants and taken out their cocks an' they were pointin' them at me-at my wet pussy, Mr. Walker-it was like crazy, everywhere I looked I seemed to see a cock pointin' at me, though there was only the two of them-and-and Don. He'd finished unfastenin' my blouse, so he reached down to his pants, undid his belt-then slipped his pants off. 'You've got a sweet, screwable pussy, Betty,' he told me, 'and
I'm gonna fuck it!' Then he lifted his cock and pointed it at me, too!"
Betty's eyes opened wide, and she stared in front of her as though she'd forgotten all about Grant.
"Three cocks-all pointing at me-and me lying there with my pussy wide open. I could feel it all wet inside where Don had been teasing it-and my clit kept bobbing, making me want to giggle and squirm."
"Weren't you afraid?" Grant asked softly. He felt a dull pain in his abdomen where it had contracted at the little girl's sensual words. There was an ache which was easing its way from the base of his penis to the tip-and he knew that the shaft was hardening...
"Afraid?" Betty repeated, then she wrinkled her brow in thought. "No." She shook her head quite violently. "I wasn't afraid, Mr. Walker. I was like excited-the drink or something had made me feel all sexy and groovy. I felt almost-it sounds crazy, but-I felt kinda proud of myself that three men were all worked up because of me-were waiting to screw me-that their cocks had grown big. That guy Brad had the thickest, fattest thing I'd ever seen. Just because of my pussy. Little Betty Malone's wet pussy was makin' three men almost ready to blow their tops..."
Her voice trailed off, and the small hand that covered her crotch moved slightly.
" 'I'm gonna fuck it'-that's what Don said, and he began tickling my breasts, pulling them out, squeezing the tips and making them glow. I could feel the little thrills runnin' all over my body and I felt all nice and warm and throbbing ... I reached down an' took hold of Don's cock, it'd got long and stiff like the others, and began running my fingers up and down it." She gave me a small sigh, "I'd never really done anything with Don before-he'd felt me before-tickled my pussy when we were watchin' the movies at a drive-in-and once he'd made me cream with his fingers, like diddling me until I came all wet on the car seat. But he'd never put his cock in me-not up my pussy-not until Friday night." Betty gave a small sigh. "I was lyin' on my back, squirmin' my bummie into the soft mattress while I squeezed Don's cock, feeling it gettin' bigger-and watching, too. The two guys at the foot of the bed were getting more excited. One of them, Brad, was holdin' his cock at the base and it seemed to stretch out a mile, the end all swollen and fat. I could see the slit in the round end opening and closing as he played with himself very gently. 'Don't,' the guy with the thick cock said, 'Don, I'll give you a five to get in first.' I was startled. I-I didn't know that-that he was gonna fuck me, Mr. Walker. I was all mixed up. I thought that maybe Don would screw me. But the others-I didn't know what they had in mind ... but just hearin' him say that and seeing his big thing get bigger-so big that it'd tear me wide open-made me feel crazy and more excited than ever. 'Make it ten.' Don said, jabbing his finger between my legs and twistin' it up my pussy. 'For a ten,' he said, 'you can have first fuck at this sucking, wet cunt.' He wriggled his finger about, and though I felt kinda mad at what he was savin', I could feel myself getting more wet and hot inside my pussy ... and then I saw Brad climbing over the end of the bed!"
Betty blinked her big, brown eyes at Grant, then went on in a whisper: "Don just sat there, watching, while Brad crawled between my legs...'Don,' I said, 'Don. What're you doing?' But he just sat still, light beside me, letting Brad get up higher and higher until he was spread on top of me. I-I was still holding Don's cock-but I let go of it when Brad was on top of me. He started to probe my pussy with his cock, but it was too big. He-he couldn't get it open. 'Open up wide,' he told me, 'spread your legs and your cunt way open.' I felt someone pulling at my thighs, stretching them apart-opening me up-then Brad tried to squeeze his cock in again. He could only get it in the neck of my pussy, and he told me: 'Lift up your knees-I'm gonna fuck you if I have to split your sweet cunt wide open!' I began to feel afraid, then, Mr. Walker. I could feel his big thing-all hard and wet at the end-pressing against the lips of my pussy ... I tried to stretch myself as far open as I could. Brad gave a big jerk forward and his cock jammed in me. I squealed because it hurt-the sides of my pussy felt all spread apart and the end of his cock was pressing against the top of me-I mean, inside ... I-I wasn't a virgin, because of something that happened when I was very small, but it was the first time I'd had a cock in me-and it hurt-a real lot ... at first. And then-then when he began moving himself, slowly at first then faster, in and out, up and down, I began to feel the glow again. Each time his cock touched my clit, little shivers ran all through me. I-I wrapped my legs around his back, and I could feel my bummie stretching open. Then someone, Don, I think, stuck his finger up my bottom!"
Betty jerked her small body on the low stool as she spoke; as though she was experiencing again the sensation of a stiff finger thrusting into her anus.
"It hurt me, Mr. Walker-really hurt-and then I forgot about it because the thick cock was swelling inside me ... Brad's face was all red and wet with sweat. I could see it in front of my eyes...'Oh, you sweet, fucking kid,' he kept saying, 'You tight, little sucking cunt!' Then the hot stuff spurted inside me, and I knew that his cock had shot off. At the same time, my clit began bobbing like mad-and I started squealing and squealing until Brad jammed his mouth over mine to stop me."
Betty rocked herself forward and backward on the low stool. Grant watched her. The pain at the end of his shaft was near intolerable.
"And then?" he whispered.
Betty kept her head bent forward as she started to speak again. Grant could see that the wet patch on her briefs was spreading...
"Tim, the other guy, said, 'I'm next,' but Don said, 'Oh, no-she's my piece of pussy-I wanna get in.' Then Tim shouted: 'I'm all hardened up after watching. If I don't get a piece of cunt right now, I'm gonna blow.' Then he like grunted, and said, 'How about another ten, Don?'
"Brad was still on top of me, but I could feel his cock gettin' softer and smaller and slipping down my pussy all the time ... but I still felt hot, like worked up...
" 'Okay,' Don said, 'but make it fast, man, I'm all ready to blast off, too.'
"Brad rolled off me, and I sorta turned over, feeling my pussy still throbbing, like a vibrating motor that was all warmed up. Don brought his hand down on my bummie with a loud slap. "Turn over, Baby,' he said, "Tim wants to fuck your sweet cunt, too.'
" 'Don,' I said, 'Don-I don't know-I don't-' He brought his hand down real hard, and I knew that his fingers had left a red mark on my bottom. 'I know, Baby,' he said, "Turn over. You're gonna get fucked again.'
"I-I was gonna turn over, but Tim reached down, put his hand on my bottom, pressed me down onto the bed. 'Wait a minute,' he said. 'She's got a sweet little ass-hole there. I don't mind getting in that.' He gave a kind of laugh. "The first time. And anyways, her cunt's all filled with Brad's fucking juice.'
"I felt him lying down on top of me. His penis wasn't as thick as Brad's, but longer, poking at the hole in my bummie. 'Not there,' I squealed. 'It's gonna hurt. Don't fuck me in there!'
"He gave a funny kind of laugh. 'You'll like it,' he said, then laughed again. 'I know I'll like it. I'm gonna fuck this wet hole 'til I blow!' I could feel his cock wiggling about between my cheeks, trying to find the way into my tiny hole. Then Don said, 'If you're gonna fuck her ass, I can screw her cunt at the same time.'
"He squeezed himself under me, pulling my bare breasts down against his chest, and sliding his cock under then up until he found my stretched-open pussy. 'I'm going to fuck you, Baby,' he said. 'Who'd have ever thought that our first fuck would be like this?' He jammed his cock in me and I felt Tim squeezing his cock into my ass-hole-hurting me, tearing me ... until it felt like the two cocks were tearing me apart."
Grant closed his eyes. "Your poor kid," he breathed.
Betty slid forward until she was on the edge of the stool. Slowly, her buttocks slid onto the floor. Her knees pressed upward, almost under her chin, then she reached down, pulled at the waistband of her tiny briefs, eased them off her body. Her hand went onto her vagina, and a finger disappeared inside.
"Yes," she said. "Poor kid is right." The finger inside her briefs slid into her vagina, then dragged out, slowly, reluctantly. "But I liked it, Mr. Walker. After the first shock was gone, I liked having two cocks in me-fucking me-one at the back, and the other in my pussy. The thrills came again and again until I was throbbing and orgasming all the time. It was like heaven."
Grant stared at Betty's face, her closed eyes, the finger that moved rhythmically in and out of her vagina.
"Like heaven or hell-" he muttered.
She opened her eyes. "That's right." A tiny smile crossed her lips. "That's exactly right, Mr. Walker. It was like heaven or hell. How do I know which?"
"How does anyone?" he muttered. The pain in Grant's penis was growing instead of lessening. He moved himself in his armchair, then asked, his voice harsher than he intended, "Is that all?"
"All?" Betty echoed, blankly, aggravatingly.
Grant could feel that the blood had drained from his face. How could he let anything affect him like this? "Have you told me all you wanted?" he asked.
"Oh, no," she said, softly, squatting in her impossible position in front of the stool. "There's so much more!"
He could still see the small hand moving, sensuously, persistently, inside the black nylon briefs.
"They-they both came inside me ... almost at the same time. I felt the hot wetness inside my bummie-then Don blasted off in my pussy. My clit was all bobbing and excited. But it wasn't as thrilling as when Brad did it."
"Then what?" Grant grated. He had moved his hand onto the front of his pants to hide the betraying bulge.
"Brad did it again," said Betty, simply. "He turned me onto my back again and fucked me from the front. And that-that, Mr. Walker, was when I really blew. I-I really orgasmed-like for real-like I've never done before. I felt his thick thing, swelling and swelling, getting bigger and bigger then shooting off all hot and sticky. I creamed-all over me-inside my belly and my pussy and even my breasts felt on fire though no one was touching them or doing anything to them. I jerked and jerked and squirmed and musta made a noise ... because Tim said, 'I'll finish that hot little cunt,' and he climbed on top of me, stuck his long cock into my soaking wet pussy. 'I told you I'd do it again,' he said. Then he was fucking and fucking, and all the time the thrills were coming and coming-one after the other-like a continuous thing, Mr. Walker, until he spurted his stuff again, too."
Betty had pulled her briefs down, and Grant could see the brunette thatch of foliage on her belly. Her finger still moved, sliding in then out of her vagina-as though she was quite oblivious of Grant's transfixed eyes.
"And then?" he whispered.
She didn't look at him as she spoke. "Then Don did it again."
"Again?"
She nodded. "Twice, once in my pussy, and then in my bummie-right up my little hole. He said, 'She's my piece-and I want a bit of all that's going.' Then he laughed, kinda nasty, and screwed me again."
"Is that all?" Grant asked. He felt as though he'd been asking the same question for hours. "Is that everything?"
Betty looked up, blinked her shy brown eyes at him; then glanced down, saw her exposed belly, dragged-down briefs, and pulled them up quickly, as though she was surprised or ashamed of herself.
"Almost," she whispered. Grant waited.
"After that-Tim, he-he sucked at my pussy until I-I came again-while Brad and Don put their mouths on my breasts and licked them, bit them, until I was glowing all over. I came like crazy, jerking and squirming all over the bed ... all over-all the time-like crazy."
Her voice died down and Betty breathed jerkily through her nostrils.
"After that Don drove me back home. It was late-real late, Mr. Walker-almost daylight."
Grant tried to pull himself together.
"Was your mother worried about you?"
Betty looked up, stared him in the eye. "My mother?" Betty gave a dry laugh that was too bitter for a girl of her age. "She was in bed, Mr. Walker. Passed out-drunk as usual-that's how worried my mother was!"
"Why did you want to tell me all this, Betty?"
She wriggled across the floor until she was squatting at Grant's feet. "I-I had to tell someone, Mr. Walker. Who could I tell? You're kind and understanding. I-I had to tell someone!"
He reached down, patted her soft brown hair, gently. "Okay, so you've told me..."
She buried her face against his legs. "I-I felt like guilty, Mr. Walker."
"You don't have to feel guilty, Betty. They did these things to you."
"But-but I coulda stopped them, Mr. Walker. They didn't force me to do nothing. I coulda stopped it any time. They weren't bad guys. I-I let them do what they did."
He didn't know what to say, so he stroked her head instead of speaking.
"And-and I feel guilty, Mr. Walker-so guilty-because I-I enjoyed the things they did-and-and I wanna be punished!"
"Punished?" Grant's hand stopped moving.
"Yes, Mr. Walker. I want you to punish me-for doing what I did. That way I'll feel better."
"But, Betty-" Grant took a deep breath. "I can't do that! It's not possible-not right. How could I punish you?"
"By spanking me, Mr. Walker. I want you to spank my bummie so hard that I won't feel guilty any more!"
Grant closed his eyes, tried to still the tremor that ran through his body. Spanking this sweet young girl! He felt the twitch in his penis at the thought. It wouldn't be right!
"You gotta help me, Mr. Walker. There isn't anybody else!"
He swallowed. "If-if it'll make you feel better-"
"Oh, but it would!" Betty embraced his knees, eagerly.
"All right," he said heavily. "I-I don't want to do this, Betty, but if you're sure--. "
"I'm so sure, Mr. Walker."
He took a deep breath. "Come here tonight at ten o'clock. And-and I'll spank you."
Betty's face lit up. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Walker!"
He showed her the side door that led from his den to the garage. She could use it to enter his den that evening, when she came for her punishment-her spanking-his hand slapping down on her soft white buttocks ... Grant felt the hardness arc down his pain-filled shaft.
At ten tonight ... He was only doing this to help her, he told himself, then he unzipped his pants, stared in wonder at his penis that he'd never seen so swollen and large.
It was his duty, he told himself, his duty as a counselor!
TWO
Grant climbed the stairs from his den to the hallway with slow, thoughtful steps.
He had sat, slumped deep in his armchair, for a long time after little Betty Malone had left.
I want you to spank my bummie, Mr. Walker, she'd said. A quiver ran through his body each time he remembered her words. He'd spank her bare, of course. It wouldn't be right any other way. He'd have to make her take off her tiny briefs, expose her cute little bottom-then his hand would slap down hard, sinking into the soft girl-flesh and he'd feel her yielding and squirming under his fingers.
He reached down, felt the hardness that was his penis through his pants. No wonder those three fellows-rotten bastards that they were-had gotten erections just by looking at the tempting little girl.
Betty was a sexy little morsel of flesh!
Grant recalled the way she had wriggled her buttocks when she'd walked across the den in front of him, then squatted down on the stool showing her delicious little legs with their small rolls of baby-fat on the thighs ... and the tiny nylon briefs that were dragged into a tight vee at her crotch. Would she be wearing the same sexy panties tonight?
A flicker of shame at his sensual thoughts made Grant screw his eyes closed. He was only doing his duty, he told himself, it was his job to listen to-and help-mixed-up kids like Betty.
Even if helping meant ... spanking their naked bottoms.
He frowned at the question that still nagged at his mind, then his face cleared. Betty had suggested it. It hadn't been his idea.
Grant rose to his feet glancing at the sheet of paper that was still in his typewriter on his desk. It was another page in the pretentious work he was writing on juvenile psychology...
He allowed himself a wry smile. After Betty Malone, he'd have to write a new chapter for his book!
What he would do to Betty tonight could really be considered as research, Grant told himself. He felt a stirring at his crotch, and glanced down at the bulge. I know that spanking a sixteen-year-old girl's bare bottom is really only my duty-or research, he murmured to himself. But do you know that, too, penis?
His penis twitched in answer.
Grant glanced at his face in the small wall-mirror above his desk. The lines round his mouth seemed tighter, and his eyes were over-bright. He hadn't felt so excited for years, he realized when he tried to remember when he had last spanked anybody.
It had been years ago-when Lori was about eleven years old and she had committed some small misdemeanor. But Lori was his daughter, and her young bottom had been small and babyish, not rounded and softly fleshed like sexy Betty Malone's!
Some things made a difference, Grant admitted to himself. Then he remembered his wife, Maureen...
He'd forgotten about that!
It had been about five years after they were married, and he'd come home from work to find her with her old girl friend, Mavis, drinking and still wearing her housecoat-though it was five o'clock in the afternoon.
The two of them had been drinking all day and Maureen was quite drunk. Grant had been furious.
As soon as Mavis had left in a taxi, he'd taken his young wife into the bedroom, told her how angry he was, how shocked-how hurt. She'd laughed at him, taunted him with drunken, obscene words and actions.
Grant had been horrified and frightened. Maureen was so cool and correct; so prim and proper; sedate and sophisticated ... he'd never known she could be like this!
"So what do you want to do?" she'd asked. "Treat me like a naughty little girl and spank me?"
Grant had taken a deep breath, blurted, "Maybe I should do just that."
And Maureen had unwrapped her housecoat. She was nude underneath. "Then what're you waiting for-I dare you," she said, and she'd flung herself face down on the bed.
He'd looked at the naked body of his wife as though he was seeing it for the first time-then he stepped forward, brought his hand down, hard and heavy, onto the milky-white buttocks that she thrust up so provocatively.
He'd slapped her soft flesh about a dozen times, and she hadn't made a whimper. She just kept lifting her hips, pushing up her buttocks to meet his hand with a contemptuous roll of her body each time his hand came down.
When he'd finished, she'd twisted herself onto her back. "Satisfied?" she asked.
He'd stared at her. breathing hard through his nose. "You deserved it," he muttered.
"And are you satisfied?" she repeated.
She was lying with her thighs parted and the insides of her thighs seemed wet.
"Are you?" he asked, instead of answering.
Her face twisted into an expression he'd never seen before. "You'll never know," she whispered, then she raised her voice, "Now, get out-leave me alone!"
Grant turned to the door, groped his way out, blindly. Then, as he turned to close the door, he froze in a moment of shock.
Maureen had been sprawled with her eyes closed, but her hand had slid down her body and she was caressing the curled-open lips of her vagina as she lay with her legs stretched apart. As he watched in horrified fascination, he saw her finger find the head of her clitoris, and as she teased the slithery spire a low hiss began to escape from her lips.
Grant closed the bedroom door very quietly, then groped his way to the bathroom.
He stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. It was tightened up, tense. My wife, he had whispered to himself, diddling herself-making herself come-desiring herself more than me! It was unthinkable-but true, because Gran! had seen it.
He had ripped open his pants, looked at his penis. It was gross, bloated, enlarged.
Maureen had liked her own finger better than his penis!
A strangely sensual horror had run through his body. And as he had looked at it, his penis throbbed, lurched-then spurted out juice as he orgasmed, involuntarily.
He remembered leaning against the bathroom wall, weak and shaky; frightened by his own unconscious reaction. Had it been seeing his wife masturbating-or was it the spanking that had caused his ejaculation?
The next day, Maureen had been her usual, cool, sweet and docile self. They'd never spoken of what Grant had done-or what he'd seen Maureen doing. As far as he knew, she hadn't seen her friend, Mavis, again.
She was the only woman he'd ever spanked, except for his small daughter, Lori.
But tonight, there was Betty-little but sexy Betty Malone.
He opened the door to the kitchen, and Maureen was there, preparing his evening meal.
She smiled at him. "Everything all right, dear? You were a long time."
He glanced at the clock. Eight o'clock! He hadn't realized he'd been in the den so long.
"Yes, it's all right," he said, seating himself at the kitchen table. It wasn't necessary to tell Maureen that Betty was coming back that evening ... for her punishment; with her cute breasts bobbing and rounded bottom wriggling in anticipation of her spanking. It wasn't necessary, or wise, to tell that to Maureen. It might remind her of something that happened so long ago; something that they'd both pretended to forget.
"Here's your supper," she said, placing the plate on the table in front of him.
Grant ate it, mechanically and distractedly, just like a normal husband would.
"Lori's already gone," said Maureen.
"Where?" he asked.
"To a movie," said Maureen, "I told her to be back before eleven." He nodded.
"Are you working tonight?" She meant-was he working on his book?
"I'll be in the den until late," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on his plate.
Maureen seemed to give a sigh of relief. "I'm very tired, Grant, I'm going to bed early." Then her voice became casual. "What time will you be coming to bed?"
"Late, I expect. After twelve, maybe much later."
She spoke to him with her face turned away. "I'll be in bed early, ten o'clock or so."
"I won't disturb you."
"Lori'll let herself in-she has her key."
"Yes," he said.
Then Maureen moved into the living room, turned on the TV, and Grant finished his meal in silence, by himself.
THREE
He went down to his den shortly after nine o'clock while Maureen was still watching TV.
There'd been some idea of working on his book in the back of his mind, but when he sat down at his typewriter, all he could think of was a sixteen-year-old girl who'd been abused by three men-and whom he was going to spank as punishment.
She didn't really deserve to be punished, he told himself: what had happened hadn't been her fault. But she wanted it. She wanted the pain and humiliation of having her naked flesh spanked to appease the guilt in her mind.
So ... he would do it!
It wouldn't be right if he didn't ... there was no one else she could go to-talk to ... it was his duty!
Grant got up, strolled to his small bar and mixed himself a rare drink. It wasn't often he allowed himself the luxury of hard liquor-but tonight he felt that he needed it. His nerves were tight, stretched to their limit. A dull pain filled the lower part of his abdomen and spread to the base of his penis, making it swell and twitch with urgent demands for release.
He sipped at his drink. Maybe-just maybe-after he'd spanked Betty, he'd go upstairs, surprise Maureen in bed, crawl in beside her and thrust his eager penis into her still-sensuous vagina.
But she was tired, she'd said. That's why she was going to bed early. She didn't want to be disturbed!
For the second time that day, he remembered the time that he'd spanked her-then watched her start her ritual of masturbation. It was listening to Betty's story that had started that train of thought...
The little girl seemed like a catalyst for sexuality!
He thought of her boy friend, Don, the men at the motel-and himself! For he was not immune...
A small sound at the side door of his den warned Grant that Betty had arrived. He had left the garage door open so that she could enter unobtrusively, as though they were having a secret affair-instead of a punishment session.
"H-hello, Mr. Walker," she said, tremulously, when he opened the door for her.
"Come in, Betty," Grant replied gently.
He watched her as she minced past him.
She was wearing black, high-heeled shoes and a short black skirt. Her legs were encased in tan hose that ended at the hem of her tight skirt. Firm, full breasts pushed out from her see-through blouse, and the pink tips of her nipples were clearly visible.
Betty was dressed more for a date than a spanking!
"I-I hope I'm not late." Her lips trembled when she spoke, and her eyes seemed bigger than ever.
"No," said Grant, feeling emotionally tense, "it's not ten, yet."
She walked up to the small bar, picked up his glass, twisted the stem of it between her fingers as she spoke.
"I-I've been thinking about it ever since I left here."
He watched her, not speaking; thinking about her words.
"The-the spanking, I mean," she said. "Yes," he murmured.
She was such a small girl for her age. Less than five feet tall, but compact, so neatly built-so sweet-looking, so sensual-
"Will you use a-a whip?"
"What!"
She turned her big, brown eyes on Grant's face. "Will you spank me with a whip?" Grant felt shocked. "Oh, no."
"Then what?" she asked. "A-a cane or a strap?"
Grant moved up to the bar, took the glass from her hand, drained it.
"I haven't really thought about it, Betty." He gave a tight smile. "I'm not used to spanking young girls."
She managed a small smile. "I don't suppose-"
"Wouldn't my-my hand be all right?"
She moved up close to him, looked up into his face. "You gotta hurt me, Mr. Walker-I feel so guilty, you gotta make me hurt."
"All right," he sighed. He put the glass on the counter of the bar.
"Now?" she asked, her lips parted, trembling.
He nodded.
"Go to that chair. Lean over the arm of it." He pointed to his old armchair.
She hurried across the room and he watched the switch of her hips as she moved.
"Like this?" she asked in a whisper, bending herself over the arm.
Her short skirt worked up as she leaned over, and Grant saw her white flesh above the tan hose. Thin straps were attached to her stockings and disappeared under her brief skirt.
"Yes," he said, moving to her.
His fingers trembled as he lifted the hem of her skirt until it was around her waist. She was wearing tight, red briefs that strained over her young, rounded buttocks. Grant felt a new pain in his penis as he stared at them.
"I'll have to take these down," he told her. "You want to be spanked bare, don't you?"
"Yes." Her voice was muffled as she let her head fall down low, buried her face in the seat of the chair.
He slipped his fingers inside the tight waistband, slipped the panties down as she lifted herself slightly to help him.
Her buttocks were white, unmarked, and the flesh seemed to quiver in anticipation.
Grant touched it lightly; it was soft and warm under his hand.
She opened her thighs slightly, then closed them-and Grant had a brief glimpse of downy brunette pubic hair between the crevice of flesh.
He drew in his breath.
"Make me smart," she murmured.
Grant swallowed. "You're going to have a very sore little bottom, Betty."
"That's what I want."
He lifted his hand, poised it for a moment, then brought it down hard onto the soft, yielding buttocks.
Betty took it without a whimper.
His hand came down again; and Grant felt a perverse satisfaction as his fingers sank into the softness of the young girl's buttocks.
The third time was the hardest, and Betty made a small sound.
Grant looked down. The flesh turned red, then white as he watched. He spanked her bottom again.
She wriggled this time, and a tiny trickle of wetness oozed between her thighs.
Grant saw it, and his penis lurched. He gripped himself at the crotch; secure in the knowledge that he was out of Betty's line of sight. He'd never felt his penis so swollen, so painful, so demanding.
He let his hand fall onto her bottom; casually, naturally, then gently drew his finger up between the red, throbbing cheeks. He could feel her flesh quivering, and her skin was slightly moist.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked.
She nodded her head into the seat of the chair. "But I want it-more, Mr. Walker-harder and more." Her voice was muffled.
He brought his hand up-then slapped down with all his strength. A muted squeal spurted from Betty's lips. He saw the cheeks of her bottom part, momentarily, showing the tiny red star of her anus, then close and shiver. Grant resisted the intolerable temptation to thrust his finger into the warm wetness of the little girl's anal orifice.
He spanked her again. This time his hand hit the soft flesh so hard that he felt the shock of it run through his arm to his shoulder.
The palm of his hand was smarting. He gave a grim smile. Maybe he ought to use a strap or a cane...
Then the shock of his thought made him tense ... Was he going to enjoy this?
His hand came down again, lower this time, just above the dusky hollow where her thighs didn't quite meet under the small roll of her buttocks. She jerked herself upward and Grant saw that the arm of the chair was wet ... a small trickle of water had escaped from the little girl's vulva.
The sight of it excited him. He had an urge to pull out his penis-thrust it into the wet hollow between her thighs and her buttocks ... but he restrained it.
He hit again, frustration making his blow harder than he intended. Betty's whole body jerked up, she lifted her face and squealed so loudly that
Grant was glad they were in a sound-proofed room. "Had enough?" he panted.
"Whatever you think," she sobbed. "No-more, Mr. Walker. I deserve more." Her buttocks wriggled and Grant could see the red and white blotches on the soft, young flesh where his heavy blows had landed.
"Sure you want more?" he asked, hoarsely.
She parted her thighs, half-lifted herself, and he saw the damp hairs around her vulva. The lips of the sexual slit had parted and he saw the pinkness inside.
"More-" she whispered.
Grant unfastened his shirt at the front, let the air cool his sweaty body. Then he eased his pants at the crotch, moved behind the waiting, passive girl again.
He slashed down with new strength.
She moaned weakly, and he saw the arm of the chair get wetter.
His hand hit again with a startlingly loud slap, and the sobs spurted from her lips.
He held his penis with his free hand when he spanked her the next time and he felt his shaft jerk in his fingers.
The sweat blinded his eyes as he slapped again and again and the young flesh was a mass of red and white blotches that would turn blue.
He stopped at last, sank down onto his knees beside the unmoving girl.
"That's all, Betty-it's finished-all over."
She turned a tear-streaked face toward him, passed her hand, tenderly, over her beaten bottom, then managed to lisp, "Thank you, Mr. Walker. You were-good to me."
She dragged herself up, stood on shaky legs, gripping the arm of the chair to steady herself.
Grant pulled himself to his feet, then sank down into the armchair.
"You poor kid," he murmured, "do you feel better? Less guilty?"
She smiled through her tears.
"Much better."
He pulled her toward him, and she let herself drop onto his lap. He caught his breath ... he hadn't wanted her quite so close...
She pressed her face against his chest, sobbed quietly.
"I-I'm not a bad girl, am I, Mr. Walker?"
He stroked her tear-streaked face. "I think you're a very good little girl, Betty," he said, huskily.
She lifted her mouth, kissed him on the cheek.
"You were so good to me-I feel much better now that I've been punished."
He glanced down; her baby-fatted thighs were on his lap and below the hem of her dragged-up skirt, he could see the brunette foliage. His breath caught in his throat.
"I didn't want to hurt you-but-"
"I wanted you to, Mr. Walker. Oh, how I wanted you to-and you did!"
"As long as you're all right-" he murmured.
Betty managed a giggle.
"Sore-very sore-but all right." She snuggled her soft, warm body against him. "My poor little bummie's so hot-it's like on fire."
"Poor little girl," Grant murmured, stroking her soft brunette head of hair.
"I'd like to take a cold shower, let the cool water go on my bummie, cool it off-or-or-" she sat more upright, "I've got some cold cream in my purse. Do you think-I mean, would you, Mr. Walker, like spread some on my bummie?"
He caught his breath. Touching her flesh so intimately, so sensually...
"I mean-I'm gonna be marked if I don't do something. I wouldn't want anyone-like my mother or anyone-to ask me where I got all marked up!"
Grant tensed. My God, I never thought of that!
"All right," he muttered. "Give me the cream and I'll cream you all over your bottom. It'll make you feel better and look better." He gave a wry smile. "If anyone looks at your bottom."
Betty giggled. "I don't intend to let them. I mean, look at my little bummie. But I'd like it to be cooled."
She squirmed herself off his lap, picked up her tiny purse from where she'd left it on the bar; opened it, took out a small jar of cream and handed it to Grant.
"Cream me up good, Mr. Walker. Cool me off for real."
Grant smiled at her words, took the jar from her small hand and unscrewed the top.
Betty bent over his lap, wriggling herself into position until her bottom was staring into his face. He pulled her skirt up higher, dropped his hand onto her flesh. It was hot and throbbing to his touch.
He scooped out a gob of cream, began to smear it on her soft buttocks. The sensation was softly sweet, sensual and exciting. His fingers wove a cool path of pleasure on her skin.
"Go in real deep," Betty whispered.
Her head was over the side of the chair, and her feet stretched over the opposite arm. He could feel the soft swell of her belly pressing on his lap. His penis moved and he wondered whether she could feel it, was aware of it-and what she'd think if she was...
Her thighs parted and Grant looked down into the dusky hollow again. He could see the edge of the pink slit and the tiny lips that were still oozing open.
He took another scoop of cream, massaged her bottom, kneading the cheeks gently, sensuously-then sliding his hand to her cleft. She seemed to stretch her buttocks apart, and his finger felt the tiny orifice of her anus. He touched it, passed over it quickly, then touched it again.
Betty lay very still; not saying anything, seemingly unaware of his action.
He massaged the inside part of her butt cheeks, working in closer and closer to the cleft-then he felt her anus again. He inserted his fingertip with soft, stealthy care. Betty seemed to lift her buttocks slightly, as if to meet his hand. He withdrew his finger quickly, massaged the rest of her bottom-then his hand strayed back again. This time he probed a little deeper and a low sigh hissed from Betty's lips.
"Did I hurt you?" Grant asked anxiously.
Betty shook her head, making her whole body shake at the same time. "Oh, no-you didn't hurt. It feels so good-so cool-please cream me all over-like-" She drew in her breath. "I'm like burning-in between the cheeks of my bummie, you know where you spanked, please cream it-please!"
Grant's hand trembled as he scooped out more cream. He hadn't spanked her on her anus. He'd been very careful not to hit her there. He closed his eyes, hesitated with his hand poised above her flesh. Was he as bad as the rest of them? like the guys at the motel who'd taken advantage of her? He couldn't help wondering.
His finger slipped between Betty's creamy cheeks, found the wet and warm and tight hole and insinuated itself.
Betty squirmed with pleasure.
He probed deeply, feeling his penis growing as his finger penetrated.
"That feels so good," Betty sighed.
Grant dragged out his finger as though it was burned. This wasn't why he'd asked a guilt-ridden little girl to come to his den! He was a counselor, with the job of helping mixed-up kids-not seducing them.
"That's enough," he said, his voice sounding harsh.
"Please go on, Mr. Walker," she whispered. "No!" Grant brought his hand down onto her buttocks with a light slap. "You're cooled off now.
That's all."
She turned her head, looked at his face with hurt, troubled eyes. "Are you mad at me?"
He stroked her gently. "No, Betty. I'm not mad. It's just that-that-" he broke off, swallowed. "You came to be punished and I've punished you." He looked into her sweet, trusting face. "I hope you feel better-not so guilty."
She smiled then. "Oh, but I do. You've helped me a lot, Mr. Walker. You'll never know how much." She twisted herself over, then reached up with her face, pushed out her lips and kissed him gently on the mouth. "Thank you, Mr. Walker."
Grant pressed himself back in his chair resisting an impulse to push her away-and another, conflicting instinct to drag her close to him and thrust his tongue into her sweet, warmly-inviting mouth.
"It's all right," he said, huskily. "Now you'd better go."
She got off his lap slowly, reluctantly, holding her skirt high around her waist so that he had a clear, sensually-enticing view of her naked buttocks, and-when she turned-the small rounded belly with its soft thatch of pubic hair.
Her lips smiled at him.
"You've been so good-"
He dropped his eyes. He'd spanked her bottom, thrust his finger deep into her anus-and she told him he'd been good! He felt an unwanted guilt of his own.
"I hope I've helped," he murmured, feeling like a hypocrite.
"You've helped," Betty whispered. She picked up her red briefs from the floor, wriggling herself into them, then pulling them up tightly at the crotch.
Grant watched her; getting pleasure from the sight-and a growing excitement, too.
She picked up her small purse and moved up to him, standing so close that her small breasts were thrust against his chest. He could feel the tiny nipples pressing hard against him.
"Thank you," she said again, and turned up her face to be kissed.
This time he let his mouth go onto hers, felt her small tongue dart out, probe into his mouth. He drew back.
"You'd better go, Betty."
His chest rose and fell as he panted from an unexpected warmth of emotion. "Yes," she said, "it's late-"
His eyes flashed to the small wall-clock. He'd completely forgotten about time. It was after midnight.
"Yes," he said. "I-I didn't know it was so late."
She looked up at him, still standing close, her lips parted and a gentle expression in her soft brown eyes and on her sweetly sensitive face.
"But you'll spank me again?"
"What!" Grant was startled.
"I mean-I feel better now-not so guilty, but it's good for me-to be spanked, I mean-"
"Do you want me to?" His voice was choked.
She nodded, earnestly. "Oh, yes, I want you to. I mean it, Mr. Walker."
For some crazy reason that he didn't understand, he blurted: "My name's Grant."
The smile filled Betty's face with sunshine. "I know it. Can I call you Grant?"
He swallowed his emotion, nodded.
"And you'll spank me again, Grant?"
"Yes," he muttered, hoarsely.
"Every week?" she insisted.
"If-if that's what you want. If that'll make you feel good."
"Yes, it'll make me feel good. I've never felt so good as I feel right now."
"Then I'll spank you."
"Every Friday?"
The thoughts raced through his mind. What am I getting into? What am I starting? It was a crazy situation-a crazy thing for him to agree to do. It could lead to...
Betty lifted the hem of her skirt, adjusted her red briefs into a higher, tighter position ... and his eyes followed her movements.
"Yes, every Friday," he said.
"And if I really need it-I mean, need it real bad-I'll come at other times too."
"If-if you must," he mumbled.
"I may hafta, Grant," she said in a purr.
He took a deep breath. "And now you'd better go home, Betty. It's so late-"
"I've been out later," she reminded him. "My mother doesn't worry."
"I remember what you said. But you'd better go."
"All right, Grant. Goodnight."
She reached up on her toes, pushed out her lips to his mouth, flicked out her tongue and touched his lips briefly , . . then he was watching her mince toward the side door of his den.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Grant sank into his armchair with a sigh of exhaustion, then glanced down and saw the wet, dark patch at the crotch of his pants. It hadn't been there before...
FOUR
It was twelve-thirty when Grant finally roused himself to ease his emotionally exhausted but sexually stimulated body out of his armchair and clicked off the lights in his den, then ascend the stairs to the hallway.
He thought, absently, that Lori must be home and asleep in her bed before he went upstairs to his and Maureen's bedroom.
He was very aware of his enlarged penis and heightened desire that the spanking session with Betty had brought on, and he wondered, too, whether it would be feasible to awaken Maureen and persuade her to engage in one of their infrequent sessions of intercourse.
He sighed at the thought; it was unlikely that she would agree.
All their friends thought that Grant and Maureen were an ideally happy couple, and this was true-except for one thing: sex!
"I hate it!" Maureen had told him right after their marriage when they'd had their first session of sex. His wife had been a virgin-and Grant had thought that was something to be proud of at the time. But he hadn't been aware that they were so completely sexually incompatible.
By some unfortunate freak of circumstance, Grant had selected a girl whose vulva was abnormally small while his penis was abnormally large!
The first time they'd made love, he'd used so much salve on Maureen's vagina merely to gain entrance that he felt as though he was plunging into a tunnel of cream ... but he had enjoyed it. The tightness of the tiny vagina clutching his gross penis was exquisite delight ... or would have been, if Maureen's screams had not shattered his ears.
"I can't stand it," she'd screamed. "That horrible big thing is tearing me apart. I'm small. I'll always be small. I don't want your big cock inside me."
"But you're my wife," Grant had pleaded. "You've got to. I'm normal-I need it-I-"
"Normal!" she shouted. "That gross thing isn't normal! It's more like a horse than a man!"
Grant reached down, touched his horse-like penis now, and thought about it. She'd finally agreed to allow him-on special occasions as though she was giving him a precious gift-to make love to her.
"It's an ordeal," she'd moaned. "You've got to cream me all over and go in very slow and stop whenever I tell you."
It had been an indescribable thrill to feel her tiny, tight vulva sucking at his cock-and he usually reached his orgasm very quickly-much to Maureen's relief.
He had made love to her often enough, however, that she got pregnant. He'd hoped that after Lori was born, Maureen's vulva would have stretched and they'd be able to enjoy more frequent sexual sessions. But it hadn't happened; Maureen's vulva seemed to have shrunk back to its former size within weeks of Lori's birth. And his wife acted the same way again-only more so.
"You've got a daughter now," she'd say. "You don't want me to go through that again. If you only knew the agony I went through when they stretched me wide open to get that little brat out-I thought I'd die-but you don't care. All you want to do is fuck. How can you be so cruel to me, Grant? I thought you loved me, not just wanted to fuck my little pussy!"
So Grant's love-life with his wife was rare and unsatisfying. For days after a reluctant session, she was cold toward him and-illogically-Lori.
She'd go to bed early, and when he came to bed she'd be asleep-or feigning sleep-and he didn't often dare wake her up. When he did rouse her and insist, she would be so miserable-tempered and reluctant that sometimes he'd lose his desire.
Grant wondered, now, as he stood outside their bedroom door, whether he'd dare wake her and make known his demands.
He slipped his hand inside his pants, caressed the swollen head of his penis, then looked down-and it was then that he saw the sliver of light beneath the bedroom door. Maybe Maureen was still awake.
He opened the bedroom door, quickly but quietly, then stood very still, holding his breath.
His wife had fallen asleep with the bedroom light still on. There was a peaceful, satisfied, dreamy expression on her face that he rarely noticed when she was awake. The sheet had been thrust off the bed and Maureen was completely nude. She was on her back with her legs stretched apart, thighs open wide ... and her vulva ... Grant closed his eyes, then opened them again with an effort. The tight little-girl vulva was stretched wide open, lips curled apart to accommodate the long, slim rubber dildo that protruded from the wet, red opening. His wife had been masturbating herself with an artificial penis until she fell asleep!
Bitter lines of pain and frustration etched themselves into Grant's forehead. Then he unzipped his pants, let his swollen organ burst out and he gripped it with both of his hands.
He walked into the bedroom slowly; holding his penis in front of him, as though it was a gun he was about to fire. He stopped at the foot of the bed, stared up into the red maw of Maureen's vulva. He pointed his cock, aimed it at the hairy thatch above the lips that clutched the grotesque dildo with wet, sensual intensity. He held it, feeling the tremors run from his scrotum, down the shaft to the rounded, bulbous tip-then he orgasmed, strongly and viciously, letting the hot juice squirt across the bed until it landed in thick, white blobs on the inner thighs of his sleeping wife.
He watched with a perverse satisfaction as the thick juice trickled from her thighs onto the slim piece of rubber; and other blobs of whiteness had fallen onto her neat triangle of modest pubic hair.
"You'll never know, Maureen," he muttered, crazily, "but I fucked you-without even gettin' near to your precious cunt!"
Then he turned, staggered down the stairs to the living room, and fixed himself a drink.
FIVE
The sound of a car stopping outside their quiet suburban house roused Grant from his reverie.
His eyes jerked to the clock as he rose to his feet.
Two o'clock!
He hadn't realized he'd been sitting here so long, brooding about Maureen-and, unconsciously, thinking of Betty-until he noticed the time.
He strolled to the window, wondering who was arriving at that hour-and he noticed then that his penis-his damned horse-like penis-had swollen up again.
Thinking of Maureen? he asked himself ... then changed the thought: Not Maureen but Betty!
He glanced through the window, noticing the car driving away, but not thinking anything special until he heard the key in the front door, and realized with a shock that it was Lori coming home.
Lori! At two o'clock!
He hurried into the hallway, and almost bumped into his daughter as she turned away from the front door.
"Oh, Daddy-" she stepped back in surprise, "I thought you'd be in bed!"
"Where've you been?" he snapped.
"Why-why didn't Momsie tell you-I've been to a movie," she blurted.
"Until two o'clock?"
Lori hung her head. "A drive-in-they finish late."
Grant breathed deeply.
"With some man, I suppose."
"Just a boy from school," she murmured. "We didn't realize it was so late." She started to move toward the stairs.
"Just a minute, Lori," Grant spoke with controlled emotion. "I want to talk to you a minute."
She turned her big blue eyes on him. "It's late, Daddyo. I've got to get ready for bed."
Grant looked at his daughter. She was cute, blonde and sixteen years old, with the figure of a girl much older.
She started up the stairs and he followed her.
"But two o'clock, Lori-" he began, then stopped.
She was wearing a tiny miniskirt, and as Grant followed her up the stairs he could see underneath it. Lori was wearing stockings, garter-belt and nothing else! The cheeks of her bottom flashed whitely each time she took a step up.
Grant took a deep breath. Oh, my God!
She walked into her room with demure little-girl steps, and Grant followed her into the bedroom.
Lori turned. "Got to get ready for bed, Daddyo."
He reached forward, took the hem of her skirt, lifted it. "What about this?" he asked.
Lori looked at her father; not shocked, or surprised even-but amused.
"That's a mini. Do you think it's too short?" she asked with a small laugh.
"I didn't mean that," said Grant. He was still holding her skirt up and could see the small cluster of blonde hair on her abdomen. He hadn't realized that she was growing up so fast. "I mean your panties."
Lori dropped her eyes for a moment, then tried to give a bright laugh. "I'm not wearing any. See-" she reached to her waist, unwrapped the skirt, then spun around with a blur of white buttocks, blonde hair and a wet crevice of flesh at her thighs.
"Why aren't you wearing any?"
Lori raised her eyebrows, making her cute face look too wise. "Why should I, Daddy? There isn't any law that says you have to wear panties!" She giggled.
She had dropped her skirt onto her bed. Her nude buttocks glistening, she walked to her dressing-table, examined her face in the mirror.
Grant stared at her naked buttocks. They were sleekly rounded, soft-fleshed and there was a dampness at the base of her cheeks where her buttocks met the tops of her thighs. For a fleeting moment, Grant remembered Betty and the sexy, dusky hollow ... but this was his daughter, Lori, not Betty, the girl who was screwed by three men! He caught his breath.
"You probably wore them when you went out. Then you took them off," he hissed.
Lori wheeled around. Her face was scarlet. "Stop it, Daddy! You're makin' a fuss about nothin'! "
"Nothing!" Grant echoed, "My sixteen-year-old daughter comes home at two o'clock-not wearing panties-an' you say I'm making a fuss about nothing!"
She dropped her eyes, then her hand went down to her abdomen and she covered the light thatch of hairs.
Grant was reminded again of Betty.
"Did you leave them in the car?" he asked, a vicious note in his voice. "Did some guy take them off you and drop them on the floor of his car before he--? "
"Stop it!"
Lori's breasts rose and fell with anger. She had unfastened her blouse while Grant was talking, now her bare nipples made angry red points.
"Did he?" Grant persisted.
"No!" hissed Lori, "no, no, no!"
Grant's eyes flickered from the warm, angry flesh of his daughter to the bed. There was a small purse there where she'd flung it when she entered the room. He moved quickly, opened the purse.
Lori threw herself across the room. "Don't-that's mine-you've no right to-" her voice broke off.
Grant held them up in front of her face; they were small and thin and silk.
"Pink bikini panties," he said very softly. "You were telling the truth-you didn't leave them in the car. You put them in your purse."
She dropped her eyes. "Just happened to-" she muttered, weakly.
Grant threw them onto the bed; they landed in a tiny pile that seemed to reproach them both.
"How far did you go?" Grant asked very quietly.
Lori bit at her lip, then her hand scrabbled between her thighs. "Not so damned far-" she blurted. She raised angry eyes to her father, "not as far as I would have liked!"
Grant raised his hand as if to strike her, then let it drop weakly by his side.
"Little bitch!" he muttered, letting his eyes go down. Suddenly, he jerked his head up. "How many were there?"
"What?" Two scarlet spots appeared on Lori's cheeks.
"How many men were with you?"
The breath spurted from Lori's lips. "Why you-you monster. Daddy-how can you ask me--? "
"How many?" He kept his voice quiet.
She moved so quickly he was taken by surprise. Her hand lashed out across his face. "One," she said. "Just one-if you really have to know!" She stood back, panting with her anger and emotion.
Grant kept his voice low, under tight control. "I'm going to spank your sweet bottom so hard that you'll yell your blonde head off."
The color drained from Lori's face. "No, Daddy-please no!"
"Oh, yes!"
Lori spoke quickly, nervously. "Can't I talk to you about it? You're the one who always understood me better. Momsie never was the same as me. She can't understand things. Let me tell you about it, Daddy. Don't spank me. Please, don't spank!"
He nodded his head.
"You can talk to me about it-before or after you've been spanked ... because you're going to be spanked, Lori. If anyone ever deserved to be spanked-it's you."
Her bare breasts rose and fell as she looked at her father.
"But not here," Grant went on. "We'd wake up your mother-and I don't think you'd like to explain this to your mother, would you?"
Lori shook her head violently.
"Then we'll go down to the den," said Grant. "Grab a robe and follow me down. Don't bother to bring any clothes."
Lori's eyes followed her father as he left her bedroom. Then she picked up a shortie robe, threw it casually over her shoulders and walked calmly down the stairs.
There was a strange, anticipatory look in her eye as she opened the door to the den.
SIX
Grant watched his daughter flounce into his den with a swirl of the robe that she'd draped so casually over her glistening flesh.
Lori was the same age as Betty, he was thinking, but they were so very different.
Betty was brunette, gentle and shy-while Lori was blonde, self-assured and outspoken.
She threw the robe onto his desk top, then slithered across the room. She flaunted her blonde nakedness in front of him with a near-disdainful negligence.
Lori had never been shy in front of him, Grant recalled, but he hadn't seen her quite so naked as this since she was a very small girl and he bathed her.
"If you have to, I suppose you have to," she said, her eyes moving arund his den.
He pointed to the armchair-the same one that little Betty had bent over not so very long ago.
"Lean over that-I'm going to beat your bottom."
Her eyes showed a flicker of fear.
"With-with your hand, Daddyo. Just your hand."
Unconsciously, he lifted his hand, looked at the palm. It was still slightly red from the spanks he'd rained down on Betty.
"Yeah-with my hand," he said hesitantly.
Lori moved toward the chair and Grant saw the thin trickle of liquid that was sliding down the insides of her legs. He remembered Betty again, and the water escaping from her vulva and dampening the arm of his chair.
Instinctively, his eyes flickered to the armchair, but he couldn't see any trace of moistness on it.
"Bend right over," he told his daughter. "Put your head down on the seat."
He watched her do as he told her, and thought: I'm getting to be an expert at this!
Lori's buttocks were fatter, better developed than Betty's. The cheeks looked softer, the cleft between them deeper-and the thighs seemed thicker, moister, sexier.
My daughter, he told himself grimly.
He brought his hand down so hard that he winced from the pain.
Lori gave a high, loud squeal, then shouted: "What're you tryin' to do-break me in two?"
His hand was throbbing from the pain. He shook it weakly. This was going to hurt him more than Lori!
"Why can't I talk to you?" Lori blurted. "I can explain things. You don't have to beat me to bits."
Very slowly, Grant unfastened his belt.
"Let me talk now," Lori's voice was muffled as she kept her head buried in the seat of the chair. "I've always been able to talk to you, Daddyo. You understand me. Momsie doesn't."
Grant's pants slid down as he removed his belt. He hesitated, then slipped them right off, stepped out of them. Lori couldn't see him with her head bent down as it was.
He glanced at himself; his penis made a visible bulge in his silk briefs. But it didn't matter!
"You can talk after," he said.
He lifted his belt. It hissed through the air as he brought it down in a wide arc.
"Eeeeh-" the scream burst from Lori's lips. "Eeeh, Daddy-what've you done? That wasn't your hand!"
Her soft buttocks reared up, then sank down. She shook her head wildly, then half-turned it to see him, standing belt in hand, wearing his clinging silk briefs.
"You're hitting me with your belt!" she screamed. "What're you going to do-kill me?"
Grant watched the thin red mark on Lori's bottom fade into a thin white line, then he lifted the belt again.
This time, Lori nearly jumped off the chair when the thin leather bit into her skin.
"You're tearing me all open," she sobbed. "You're going to mark me for life. What're you trying to do? Are you going crazy or something?"
The sound of the strap eating into Lori's soft flesh had been sweet, sensuous music to Grant's ears. He was shocked at his own reaction-at the perverse pleasure he obtained from the feel of leather hitting on flesh ... his daughter's flesh!
"Just two more spanks-and then-then you can talk to me," he slurred out the words. "Then I'll decide whether you deserve any more..."
There was something about his tone of voice that made Lori jerk her head around. She stared at her father's face, then her eyes went down, saw his briefs with the bigger bulge inside ... her eyes dilated...
But Grant wasn't aware of Lori's observance. His gaze was fastened on her buttocks, on the cross-cross lines, and on the quivers of pain or fear or excitement that flickered across the flesh of her thighs.
"Just two more," he repeated thickly.
He was aware of his penis throbbing as he lifted his belt. Lori's buttocks were moving, squirming on the arm of the chair. He aimed carefully, bringing the flat side of the belt onto the lower curve of her buttocks.
Her body half-lifted in a spasm of pain.
"Eeeh-that cut into me-please stop-" She tried to pull herself up, but Grant slapped at her bottom, then pushed her body back into place.
"One more," he hissed. "Just one more!"
The sobs jerked from Lori's throat and Grant stared ... a wet patch of water was soaking the arm of the chair again-just like it had with Betty!
The sight excited him for some strange reason. He covered the head of his penis with his hand. It felt huge and throbbed like a motor.
He gritted his teeth together, brought his belt down with all his strength. This time he drew blood.
Lori screamed a high scream-then reared her whole body upward, fell down again, then slithered onto the floor.
"Eeeeh-urgh-no more-please, nooo more!"
The strap dropped from Grant's nerveless fingers.
"No," he said in a whisper. "That's all."
His whole body began to shake with a delayed reaction and he groped his way to the armchair, his gross penis-so visible through his briefs-forgotten, and slumped his body down.
Lori looked up at him from where she sprawled on the floor. Her eyes were filled with tears and sobs jerked from her throat.
"Oh, Daddy," she sobbed. "Why did you have to-"
"After what you been doing tonight-" he muttered.
Lori's whole body shook and Grant could see the wetness spreading between her thighs.
"I-I only act normal-Daddy. Can't I talk to you now? Explain how I feel?"
He nodded his head, feeling very tired. "Yes," he said. "You can talk."
She scrambled to her feet, shivered her way to him, and collapsed onto his lap.
He could feel his daughter's quivering softness pressing against the hardness at his crotch.
"Can-can I talk?" Lori asked again.
He stroked her very gently. "Yes," he whispered.
She drew in a tremulous breath.
"I-I went to the movie with Billy. You know Billy?"
Grant nodded slowly. The quiet kid who was in the same class at school as Lori. Funny, he'd never thought that Billy was the kind of kid who would keep a girl out until two in the morning! Then a memory returned, and he asked: "And he took off your panties-your pink bikini briefs?"
Lori wriggled her body, made a small sound of pain as a sensitive part of her bottom pressed against Grant's bare leg. Then, surprisingly, she giggled.
"No-not Billy! He wouldn't do that!"
Grant could feel his penis, still hard, still swollen, pressing through his thin silken briefs against his daughter's bare thigh. "Then who?" he muttered.
She made herself more comfortable, wriggling her bottom on his lap until it was resting between his bare thighs.
"I'm so sore," she murmured. "Why did you have to spank me so hard?"
His hand dropped onto her leg quite naturally, casually, but he was aware of the softness of her flesh.
"Because you deserved it," he muttered. "That's what you think," she said in a whisper. "And who took off your bikini panties?" he asked again.
She giggled. "I did!" Grant stiffened. "You?"
"Little me," she giggled again. "Little Lori Walker!"
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I wanted to," she said, perversely. "Do you want to get spanked again."
"No, oh no, Daddyo-"
"Then quit stalling. Tell me what happened."
Lori sighed, deeply and poignantly, and Grant felt his hand move onto her thigh. Her flesh felt warm and slightly wet. He felt his fingers-moving as if of their own accord-slip into the crevice of flesh between her thighs.
"Billy took me to the drive-in and we sat and watched the show," said Lori.
"And I suppose he fooled around with you while you were watching," murmured Grant.
Lori squirmed herself. "Not so much. If you have to know-Billy's kind of slow that way."
Grant let his hand move a little; his finger slid higher, found a wetness where Lori's thighs met, where the blonde fuzz ended at its triangular base. He forced himself to keep still. This was his daughter, his little girl, Lori, and she was making a confession.
"He-he necked with me, Daddy. There's no harm in that, is there? And kind of stroked my face and rny breasts."
Grant stirred, uncomfortably, but said nothing.
"I-I'm not cold, Daddy. I'm a warm kind of person. Maybe you don't know-but you ought to-I'm warm and I love you-and Momsie too-even though she's so cold."
"Why-why do you say your mother's cold?"
Grant asked.
Lori looked at Grant's face, then reached down, squeezed his hand and-seemingly accidentally-moved it until it was tight between her thighs. "Aw, come on, Daddyo-I got ears!"
Grant swallowed, half-closed his eyes and let his daughter's words sink in.
"What do you mean?" he whispered.
He could feel her legs gripping his fingers. Above the edge of his hand there was a soft wetness that pressed down that could only be Lori's vulva. He swallowed again, painfully. He should drag his hand away, stop savoring the soft feel of his daughter's sexual flesh. But it was so warm and sweetly trusting that he couldn't bear to break the intimately sensual contact between them.
She answered his question: "I-I've heard you-you an' Momsie talking at night." A slight shiver ran through her body and Grant felt it shimmering down until it reached his hand. "When-when you're in the bedroom, I-I can hear all you say awful clear..."
Grant's mouth felt dry, and he kept his eyes closed so that he wouldn't have to see his daughter's sweet face. What horribly personal things had Lori heard Maureen spew out at him?
"What have you heard?" he whispered at last.
Lori wriggled her nubile body as though she was nervous or uncomfortable. Grant felt a soft hip press against him a little harder, trapping his erect organ between a sensuous female buttock and his own naked thigh.
"Do-do I have to talk about that, Daddy? I was telling you what happened last night. Do you want me to go on?" Her voice was low, husky.
"All right," he mumbled. "Go on telling me."
"Well, like I said," Lori went on, her young, girlish voice very low, "Billy was-was necking while we watched the movie, and he's kind of shy, but he squeezed at my breast through my blouse." Lori moved her hand across her body as she spoke, touched the tips of her nipples with an unconscious and gentle caress. "But he-he didn't unfasten my blouse. He didn't touch my-my tits underneath."
"And you-you let him do this?" Grant asked hoarsely.
"I-I let him," Lori whispered, squirming herself very slowly and gently.
"Why?" Grant croaked. "Why did you let him feel at-at your breasts? Why didn't you stop him?"
"Like I told you," Lori said in a murmur. "I'm a warm kind of person and I liked him to feel at me, squeeze my breasts. It made me feel hot and excited."
Grant breathed deeply through his nose, but said nothing.
Lori buried her face against her father's shoulder. "I-I'd have liked him to do more," she whispered. "You know what I mean-my tits felt all stiff and I kept-kept squeezin' my thighs together because I was beginning to get warm down there ... you know where, Daddy, at my-my pussy."
Grant kept his voice steady with an effort.
"Then-then he felt you down there, I suppose. He slipped his hand under your skirt and felt at your-your pussy." He mouthed the intimate term that she'd used with an effort.
"No!" Lori breathed out the word. "Like I just told you-Billy's slow that way. He just kept on squeezing at my breasts through my blouse and necking while I was getting hotter and hotter."
"You-you'd have liked him to do something else?" Grant hoarsely asked.
"Yes-" she sighed. She burrowed her face against Grant's chest.
"What?" he hissed.
"Like feel under my skirt, inside my panties and touch the-the lips of my pussy. I mean, it was all hot and wet and squirmy inside and I wanted it to be tickled and soothed." She squeezed her thighs together tightly as she spoke. "He could of put his finger inside me-pushed it up my pussy and tickled me until-until I like-like came."
"But he didn't?"
"No," Lori let out her breath.
"Then what did he do?"
She made a sound that was more like a sob than a giggle. "He-he stopped necking very suddenly and I looked down and saw that he was all tight, like tensed up, at the front of his pants. Then he said: 'I'll go get us some Cokes.' "
Grant opened his eyes, craned his neck so that he could peer at his daughter's face.
"That's what he said?" he repeated.
She nodded her head, and Grant felt the movement against his shoulder.
"He went to get you a Coke?" Grant said as though he couldn't believe it.
"That's what he did." She made a sound like a muffled giggle again.
"Lori," Grant muttered, "you're tellin' me the truth. You're not-not-"
"Like putting you on?"
"Are you?" he asked. "Are you-puttin' me on?"
"No, Daddy, honest." Her young voice was filled with sincerity. "That's what he did-that's exactly what Billy did."
Grant was silent for a moment. "So he didn't take off your briefs?"
"I told you," she murmured. "Why don't you believe me? I told you that I took them off myself!"
"Why?" he whispered.
"Because of what happened while Billy was out of the car. It made me get hotter and more excited."
"What happened?"
Lori took a deep breath. "As-as soon as Billy got out and went to the refreshment bar to get the Cokes, the guy in the next car to ours-an older guy, all by himself-he opened his car door-and I saw it."
Grant tensed. "Saw what?"
"He-he had the dash-light turned on," Lori whispered. "His pants were all open at the front-and it was stickin' straight up, all hard and stiff. I saw it so clear-his-his cock, I mean. It-it was so big and long. He meant me to see it. He was watching my face and his body was half-turned toward me-" Her voice broke off. "It-it made me all hot-and kind of mad, too. And it made me come wet at the crotch of my panties."
Grant let his breath out very slowly.
"It-it made me think of you, Daddy," whispered Grant's sixteen-year-old daughter.
"What?" His voice was ragged with shock. "Me? Why-why did it make you think of me?"
"Because it was so big," Lori mouthed the words softly. "So thick and long like yours..."
Grant swallowed the lump in his throat. This was his own young daughter!
"But you've-you've never seen-" he choked on the words, "seen me-that way."
"Oh, but I have," she murmured.
"When?" he croaked.
Her voice was very small. "Your-your bedroom-yours and Mom's-is opposite the bathroom-and-and I've seen you."
He felt numb with shock.
"You-you mean when I've been getting dressed?" he asked.
"I've seen you then," Lori admitted. "And other times."
"What other times?"
"At night," she whispered. "When you've been arguing with Mom."
He was silent, wondering, worrying.
"The-the first time," Lori said, "was-was-oh, so long ago. But I remember it so well-real well."
Grant was silent. The color had drained from his face, and he felt a new kind of weakness flooding his limbs. His little daughter, Lori!
"I-I heard Mom shouting, T don't want it in me-it tears me wide open-you're like a horse-you've got a-a cock like a horse.' But Mom didn't say cock, she said-'penis-you've got a horse-sized penis-' " Lori let out her breath. "I-I knew what she meant. I felt all excited, so I crept out of my bedroom and into the hall. The light was still on in your room ... so I peeked through the keyhole and you were standing there."
A tremble ran through the young girl's body and she squirmed herself on her father's lap.
"Right beside the bed-you were standing there-all so naked. Mom-Mom was in bed and I could see her face. It was all twisted up as though she was looking at something she hated. 'You're more like a horse than a man,' she said. When I looked at you, I knew what she meant. Your-your cock was so big-long and thick-it was like the ones on the ponies at the farm. It was stickin' straight out-and-and I got hot inside me when I looked at it. I-I'd never felt so excited before. I-I was still staring through the keyhole when you switched off the light. So I went back to bed. I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of it-of your thing, your long thing-your cock-and then I-I started to diddle-"
Her face shook against Grant's chest.
"That was-it must have been-the first time I ever diddled myself. I tickled my clit-though I didn't know it was called a-a clitoris then-and pushed my finger inside my pussy and imagined it was you and your big, long cock that was going inside me. I wished-I wished that you'd come into my bedroom and jump on top of me and push it right in hard, making me all tight inside. I wished you'd do it to me-though it was a crazy thought because you're my Daddy and I knew you were in bed with Mom-even though she didn't want you to push it in her because it hurt. I heard her say that. 'It's an ordeal,' she said, 'like torture.' But I'd have liked it-I thought I would have liked it. My pussy had been all thrilly and throbbing and jerking like it does when I push my finger in real deep-only more so. And I couldn't-just couldn't forget it."
Grant could feel her young breasts swelling against his body as she cuddled herself close to him.
"I-I always think of it-of you-you and it. When I diddle myself to sleep I hope that you'll do something to me-even if it was only tickling me between my legs. I used to bend over in front of you, show you my bare bummie and hope-kind of-that you'd see me and understand that I-I had a pussy-that even though I was your daughter, I had a pussy-and maybe someday you'd touch it. But you never did. I used to push myself against you-hoping I'd feel the big horse thing that Mom said you had. And sometimes I did, though you didn't know it. But it was best of all at night, when I was in bed and everywhere was dark. Then I'd think of you-of it. I'd begin to tickle myself ... starting at my thighs on the insides and working up higher and higher until I felt my lips-they're always wet-under my fingers. I'd push my finger inside-or maybe two fingers-and squeeze at my clit until I came. Sometimes I squirmed all over my bed and made noises. I was afraid that Mom-or maybe you, though I'd have liked it to be you-would hear me and come in my bedroom to see what I was doing."
"And-and that's why I thought of you when this-this guy in the next car showed me his cock. Though it wasn't like yours-not as big as yours-it was big enough to make me think. And that's why I-I took off my briefs before Billy came back with the Cokes-so that I'd be ready. I was so hot an' worked up, ready, that if he-he did something to me, like touch me on my pussy, tickle my clit, I would have come so quick ... so oozy quick. But he didn't do nothing, Daddy. Not anything at all. Just necked and drank Coke-though I made him stay an' see the feature film twice-just waiting for him to do something. But he didn't."
She stopped again and Grant sat very still, aware of the words and flesh of the young female on his lap.
"So you see, Daddy-maybe I didn't deserve to be spanked-though, maybe I did!"
Grant sat very still. His flesh tingled from the contact of the young body above him. His penis-his horse-like penis-was swollen, gross, alerted.
"I-I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know whether I should have spanked you or not. But I thought I should. That's why I did it."
"I understand, Daddyo-I understand."
"I-I wouldn't hurt you for no reason," he muttered hoarsely.
"I told you, I understand," she said. "It's all right, Daddyo, I understand."
Grant could feel his penis moving and Lori lifted her legs, stretching one long limb over the arm of the chair and leaving more room for his hand ... the hand which had been trapped between her girlish thighs.
"I always hoped you'd touch me here," she whispered, reaching down, pressing his hand a fraction higher until he could feel the warm, open lips of her vulva sucking at his fingers.
"But-but Lori-" he began.
She made a purring sound and one of his fingers-as if acting of its own volition-slipped inside the edge of her young, vaginal lips.
"Is there anything else I have to tell you?" she whispered. "What else do you want me to say?"
His finger moved. Grant could feel the tiny wet head of her clitoris.
"I don't know," he muttered.
Lori opened her thighs a little wider, let her voluptuous young body sink lower. He felt his finger slide in higher ... his daughter wasn't a virgin!
"You-you ever been with a man?" he muttered. Her body quivered and he could feel her letting out breath.
"You mean like-like let him get in me-like fuck?"
He restrained a wince at her words. "I-I guess that's what I mean."
"No!" She jerked herself to give emphasis to the word, and Grant felt his finger slide in deeper.
He dragged air into his lungs. "You-you're not a virgin," he muttered.
She gripped his hand with her thighs, tightening the clasp of her young legs until his hand was powerless to move.
"You mean-because I broke my pussy," she murmured, "I mean-like broke it inside-the-the-hymen-it's like torn?"
"Yeah," he sighed. "That's what I mean."
His daughter shocked him by giggling.
"I did that with one of Momsie's things."
Grant tensed. "What things?"
Lori giggled again. "The little things that she sticks up her pussy."
Grant was glad that Lori couldn't see his face. My daughter ... and the things she'd seen!
"She has so many of them," Lori went on, "that she didn't miss one bitty, teeny-"
Grant squeezed his eyes shut.
"I took one out of her dresser drawer and took it to bed with me," Lori sighed. "It's like nice, I guess-but I don't understand why-why she'd rather-rather"
Grant stayed silent.
He knew what Lori meant. Knew it-and hated it.
Lori wriggled her body.
"Can I-I look at it?" she whispered.
He tensed.
She slithered off his lap, crouched between his feet. His hand slid out of her vagina with a wet sadness.
He could see her breasts, too big for a sixteen-year-old, with their nipples projecting stiffly, expectantly...
"I've seen it before. I want to see it real close, Daddyo. Can I?"
Grant felt too weak to even answer.
Lori's little-girl hands glided up to his waist and her fingers slid into the waistband of his silk briefs-then she was slithering them down his body.
Automatically, he lifted his buttocks as she slid the briefs off his thighs ... then they were around his ankles.
"No" he croaked.
Her eyes fastened on the thick shaft of muscle and flesh.
"It's like-like beautiful," she whispered.
"No, Lori-no!" he groaned.
She reached upward holding the swollen organ with both hands.
"I-I've dreamed about it. Oh, Daddy, how I've dreamed about it. But-but it's bigger than I even dreamed."
"Stop it, Lori," he muttered weakly.
She moved her head forward.
"I'm going to kiss it, Daddy. Can I kiss it?"
"No," he groaned. "Oh, no!"
Her lips reached forward, and the bulbous head with its slitted lips seemed to weave toward her. . .
"Oooooh, Loriiii-"
The long drawn out groan spasmed from Grant's lips.
She opened her mouth wide, encircled the massive shaft, sucked with sweet devotion.
The shivers of pleasure spiraled through Grant's body. His body slid lower in the armchair. His penis thrust more deeply into his daughter's mouth.
"Lori," he groaned. "You've got to stop. I'm going to-going to-"
Her lips slid off his penis. "I know, Daddyo," she said wetly, saliva trickling from the corners of her mouth. "You're going to come in my mouth. Don't you want to?"
"It's-it's not right, Lori baby. You're my daughter. It's not right!"
She slicked out her tongue, licked the tip of his penis.
"I want to, Daddyo-I'd rather do this to you than anyone!"
Grant let his body slide lower in the armchair. He could feel the soft wetness of his daughter's lips as she encircled his penis again. He pushed upward with his pelvis, letting the long, shiny shaft glide into the warm cavern of Lori's mouth with a sucking, sensual sound. The hard ball at the end of his organ was pressed to the back of her throat.
He felt the squeezing sensation as she half-gagged, then swallowed with an effort. But her tongue still licked its sexual pattern of desire.
The breath rippled out of Grant's body in a series of uneven jerks. Oh, Lori!
The cheeks of his buttocks began to tremble, then parted, as if in capitulation, and he felt his anal orifice open.
All parts of his body felt aroused, awakened, as though they'd never been so fully aware as they were now. Lori's lips gripped his huge penis, squeezed down the length, then slid back.
Grant's testicles began to ache.
As though she could read his mind or emotions, Lori reached under his vibrating body, cupped his large balls with a small hand, then kneaded them with a soothing, caressing motion of her fingers.
The thrills that raced through Grant's flesh increased in intensity.
He forced his eyes open and looked down at his daughter's face. Her eyes were closed as she bobbed her head up and down. One of her hands was strained forward, under his body, as she performed her erotic massage. But her other hand reached around the swell of her small belly as she crouched over him. He could see the ripples in her arm as she squeezed her fingers into and out of her vagina.
He screwed his eyes closed and a crazy melange of thoughts kaleidoscoped through Grant's mind...
He had brought his daughter down to his den to punish her-for something that he'd thought she'd done....
Then he had strapped her unresisting flesh with his belt, deriving a perverted satisfaction from the leather sinking into her pliant buttocks. But the punishment had been undeserved.
She'd told him her strange story of her passive boy friend, Billy, and the things he'd done-and hadn't done-and of the lewd actions of the man in the car beside theirs...
The bizarre tale of the words she'd heard from his bedroom, and how they'd affected her so sensually, so erotically, was true. He knew that.
Him! He was the cause of his daughter's obsession with a gross organ that was more like an animal's than a man's!
His damned, oversized horse-cock!
It swelled in her mouth as he thought of it.
"Oh, Lori," he groaned. "You poor kid-you're not to blame!"
She tightened the pressure of her lips, as if in reply, and Grant felt the early spasms of an impending orgasm swirling through his belly.
"You sweet, sweet kid," he groaned.
His hips lifted, carrying his daughter's mouth with them, then squashed down onto the padded seat of the chair.
The thrills came more quickly, compressing themselves into a tighter-more ecstatic-rhythm of excitement.
"Oh, Lori," his voice rose shrilly. "I-I'm going to-going to-urgh!"
The sound from his throat plunged to a gurgle. He felt his penis contracting-jerking forward then retracting-and the hot, thick spurts of juice squirted from the slitted head of his cock and splattered against the back of his daughter's throat.
She gagged, then swallowed, retched, swallowed again. A small white trickle of mucous fluid slid from the corners of her mouth.
Lori lifted her head and let her lips part from her father's cock with a wet, sucking sound.
Her face was pale, but she managed to smile at her father as she stared-her eyes too big, too wide and bright-at her father's face.
"You-you came, Daddyo," she murmured, wet globs of juice running from between her lips with each word. "I-I made you come!"
Grant stared down at his daughter; a slow-sad almost-smile fringed his lips.
"Yes, little girl," he whispered. "You made me come."
Her hand was still on her vagina. She moved it slowly, smiled up at him. "I'm so glad, Daddyo-so glad-"
She rose to her feet, half fell onto his lap. "I-I played with my pussy while I licked you. I had the most-the real most-wonderful feeling when your cock was in my mouth." She pressed her cheek against Grant's, then turned her head and slicked out her tongue, licking him on the cheek. "When you-like blasted off-I nearly choked. There was so much stuff-so much hot, thick stuff-" She moved her head away, looked into her father's face with her eyes wide open in wonder. "It almost choked me, but I-I swallowed it."
"You-you didn't have to," he groaned.
"I-I wanted to. I wanted to feel your stuff going into me-from you into me-it made me feel oozy inside." Her small hand slid between her thighs again, and Lori touched the top of her sexual slit. The tiny clitoral spire was alert and aroused.
"I-I almost like came when you blew off in my mouth, Daddyo. Almost, but not quite." She reached for his hand, pulled it onto her thighs then opened her legs and glided his hand high. "Will you finish me, Daddyo? I mean with your hand?"
Her thighs were warm and slightly sweaty from her exertions. Grant let his fingers extend and felt the warm lips, so wet and creamy, and the tiny tip above.
"Diddle me, Daddyo," whispered Lori, squirming her soft body, hungrily, urgently against him. "Stick your finger right in-real deep-make me come. Please, Daddy."
The sweat streamed from Grant's forehead into his eyes, blinding him, seeming to block out his rational thoughts.
This was his daughter, Lori, sitting on his knee with her thighs spread apart-her wet pussy open.
He blinked. He knew he should push her off his lap-send her up to bed-maybe spank her bottom ... His thoughts garbled there. He'd already spanked her bottom, that was how this all began.
His finger moved. He reached up with a finger and thumb, gripped the slippery head of her clitoris, tickled it. . .
Lori gave a low moan of appreciation.
"Make me come," she pleaded.
His hand moved more sensually. After what she'd done, he had an obligation-a moral obligation-to satisfy her sexual needs.
She placed her lips close to his ear. "Daddyo," she whispered. "Do you want to-want to like fuck me?"
His hand-his whole body-froze. Lori was his daughter!
"I-I can't," he moaned.
She wriggled and Grant was aware of her soft, naked flesh against his.
"You-you mean because you've just come you can't do it again so soon?" she asked, sounding young, innocent and naive.
Grant could feel his penis swelling at the thoughts in his mind. His daughter's vagina would be tight and soft and hugging. It would grip his cock like nothing else ever had.
"That's not what I meant," he muttered. "You-you're my daughter, Lori."
"And I love you," she whispered, kissing him on the mouth. "And I want you to be the first-the first to fuck in my pussy."
"It-it'd be wrong," he said weakly.
"I-I want it. Mom doesn't want it but I want it. I want you to fuck me, Daddy."
The air whistled from his lungs. "Even if," he began desperately, "I wanted to do it-I-I couldn't. You know it's not possible." He lowered his eyes. "I'm too big. Your pussy's too small. I-I couldn't get in. I'd tear you-"
"No!" Lori spoke so vehemently that her whole body shook. "I don't care if you hurt me. Just the thought of having that big thing-that horse-cock-inside my pussy makes me get all so-I don't know how to say it." She squeezed her thighs together tightly, leaned herself slightly forward.
She grabbed Grant's hand, pressed it against her vagina. "Feel it, Daddy. It isn't so small. You can get in. Maybe it'll hurt, but after it's in-oh, Daddyo-oh, Daddy!" Grant could feel the soft walls of Lori's vagina contracting against his hand. It was the smoothest thing he'd ever felt.
"Oh, Lori," he groaned, feeling his penis lurch.
She looked into his face, spoke with her mouth just inches from his. "Fuck my cunt! I've let you spank me. You liked doing it-I know it even if you won't admit it. And I've sucked you-made you come-swallowed your stuff. Now do something for me, Daddy-fuck my cunt!"
She slithered herself off his lap; stood in front of him, staring at his face, at his belly, at the huge snake that writhed between his thighs.
"Are you going to?" she asked.
He moved his lips soundlessly.
"Do you want me to lie on the floor?" Her voice was too high, and her eyes raced madly from side to side as though she was over-excited or drugged with some bizarre potion.
Grant dragged himself to his feet. His penis projected in front of him like the shaft of an aroused stallion.
"No," his voice was hoarse. "Don't lie on the floor." He drew in a ragged breath. "Bend over the side of the chair." He saw the relief and mixed joy and excitement rippling through Lori's body. "That way-I may be able to-to-" he broke off.
"Fuck me," Lori prompted.
He nodded, face pale, legs shaking. "It may be possible to-to get it in," he whispered.
She gave him a tremulous smile, shivered her way to the side of the armchair, glanced at him over her shoulder, then bent her quivering body forward.
Grant moved behind her slowly.
Her buttocks looked plumper, more inviting than ever. He could see the marks that his vicious strapping had left on her tender flesh. He reached down, touched a red line very gently. She quivered more violently.
He placed his hands between her thighs, high up where they met the roll of her baby-fatted buttocks, and parted them slightly.
The blonde pubic hairs showed in the dusky hollow.
He touched it with his finger. Her lips were still wet and warm. They seemed to curl open in readiness as he touched them.
It was such a small opening!
He glanced down at his penis. His damned monstrous cock!
He moved his body closer and let his cock reach out until it was poised at the crisscross of flesh. He touched the pink lips with the gross bulbous head.
The shiver flickered all through Lori's body.
He pressed himself forward. The sides of her vagina clutched at his cock-but impeded it. He was so damned big!
Grant placed his thumbs on the soft, inner thigh-flesh, stretched it gently apart.
He tried again.
Lori made low sounds of anticipation, delight and fear.
The opening was still too small.
Wildly, Grant's eyes flickered around his den.
On his desk was a small jar, the top still unscrewed. He stared at it.
It was the cold cream that he'd used on Betty!
He dragged himself away from the waiting sexual flesh of his daughter, picked up the small jar, returned to his place behind Lori.
She hadn't moved.
He scooped out a big gob and smeared it onto the warm inner-lips of Lori's open pussy. She squirmed in pleasure.
"Cream," he explained in a thick whisper. "I'm putting cold cream on your-your pussy to make it smoother, easier to-to-"
"To fuck," she mouthed.
"To get in," he mumbled. "I-I don't want to hurt you."
She made a choking sound like a giggle.
"You already have, Daddyo."
He creamed her without speaking.
"I mean, with your belt. You touched up my bummie but good."
His fingers gripped her clitoris, spread a thin sliver of cream around it.
A soft hiss of air came from Lori's lips.
"It-it makes me feel more sexy," she whispered. "I mean, spanking like you did. It makes my bummie get all hot and like stimulated-and want more and more."
The lips of her vagina were creamily white. Grant dropped the jar onto the floor. His cock reared up of its own accord. He took hold of it very carefully and guided it to the crevice of flesh and tissue and sexed-up creamy lips.
He moved his pelvis forward, felt the large head squeeze in.
A gasp of pain spewed from Lori's lips. "Hurting?" he asked hoarsely. "Go on doing it," she mumbled. Her hips wriggled. The opening seemed to open more widely.
Grant drove himself inward.
The young walls hugged his cock with an intolerable sweetness. He'd never felt anything so soft and smooth and sweet.
"Tell me," he panted, "if I hurt."
"Just go on." Lori's voice seemed to have dropped an octave.
He screwed his penis in.
"Eeeeh!" The squeal rose from Lori's throat.
Grant felt his shaft swelling and throbbing inside the warm sexual cavern. It was too late to stop now!
He drove in more deeply and Lori squealed again, higher this time and louder.
Grant gritted his teeth. His sexual excitement was so intense that he was almost uncaring of any pain that he might inflict upon the young flesh of his developing daughter.
He squeezed his buttocks together, dragged out his shaft slowly. He could feel the soft, porous walls clutching at it, titillating it with tiny quivering thrills of tremulous expectancy.
The ball at the head of Grant's shaft expanded. He felt the slit opening and closing as he moved himself so sluggishly.
He paused when the thick end of his cock was about to ooze out of his daughter's pussy, glanced down, saw the pink lips stretched wide open, clutching at his penis with wet devotion. Then he drove in again-still slowly-watching the inches of his thick cock slide deeper and deeper in.
There were still two inches of his sensual shaft outside the soaking vagina when he felt the head of his cock hit the top of Lori's sexual sac. Her body jerked forward and a new kind of sound bubbled from between her lips.
A sadistic impulse made Grant drive himself forward. Lori screamed-a long, high wail of pain-and her body was lifted upward off the arm of the chair.
He withdrew almost completely, then drove upward again.
"Eeeeh, Daddyoooo-eeeh, my poor pussy!" The words babbled from the young girl's lips.
"You want me to stop?" he gritted-though he knew that he wouldn't no matter what she said.
"Nooo," Lori moaned. "Oh, noooo!"
Grant drove in again, deeply and cruelly, and felt his long shaft bending inside her contracting vulva. He placed his hands on Lori's buttocks, tried to stretch them open more widely.
"You're tearing me, Daddy-tearing my bummie."
He could see the star of her anus above the thickness of his shaft as it projected from her cunt like a living snake. He reached up with his thumb, touched the wet orifice, thrust in-heard Lori scream again-then he was feeling his shaft through her flesh.
A gurgling sound trickled from Lori's lips as Grant eased his organ in and out. Each time his penis moved inside her vulva, he could feel the sensation with the tip of his thumb thrust deep in her anus.
He groaned, feeling remorse at his own cruelty-but was powerless to resist.
Lori's wet sounds of pain died. She changed her position slightly, pressing her head deeper into the seat of the chair, lifting her buttocks higher until her feet were barely touching the floor.
Grant's penis drove in and out with rhythmic regularity. Pleasure-sounds began to trickle from Lori's lips.
Each time the gross organ screwed in its thick sides pressed against Lori's erect clitoris and new thrills rippled through her flesh.
"Oooh, Daddyo-like-I like it-ooh, Daddy!"
The air panted from Grant's throat. He could feel his climax nearing.
He lifted his hands off Lori's buttocks, taking his thumb from inside her anus. A small trickle of blood slid out as the tip of his thumb emerged. He reached under her body.
"Like that," she mouthed. "My tits, squeeze my tits while you fuck."
He felt for her nipples; found them, gripped the tensed tips. They felt iron-hard between his fingers. He dragged them away from her body.
"Oh, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah-" she breathed. "Fuck my cunt deep while you pull them."
Grant pushed in to the limit, felt the head of his cock swelling, contracting, swelling bigger than before. The soft walls of Lori's young pussy seemed to grip more tightly than ever.
"Lori," he mumbled, breathlessly. "Lori baby, I'm going to-going to come-"
She vibrated her buttocks wildly.
"Me, too-Daddyo-me, too!" Her voice raised high on the last word.
The end of Grant's cock was a huge ball of fire. Grant could feel all the strength and desire and frustration draining down his body and coalescing in the sexual tip of his penis.
"Now!" he shouted. "Now, Lori!"
He jerked his body fiercely, thrusting in, dragging out, feeling his legs start to tremble.
Lori's buttocks were a shivering mass of jelly. Saliva dripped from her mouth and saturated the seat of the old armchair. She pulled herself backward, increasing the tension on the tortured tips of her nipples, then shuddering spasms cascaded through her whole body.
"Eeeeh, Daddyo-Eeeeh, eeeh, eeeh!"
He felt the hot juice throbbing up from his scrotum. Grant gripped Lori's breasts as though they were a support for his shattering emotions.
"Urgh-urgh, Lori baby-urgh Loriiiii!"
His penis reared, spurted, jerked back then spurted again. The hot juice squirted deep inside the young girl's vagina, saturating the unused, sensitive walls, then drained back and oozed out at the sides of the over-sized shaft that had blasted its sexual secretion.
"You sweet sucking kid. Ohhh, Lori baby-"
Garbled words spluttered from Grant's lips; all strength had ebbed from his body and his softening penis, no longer horse-sized, slipped from her saturated pussy.
He leaned against her buttocks, limply, dragging great breaths of air into his lungs. His hands dropped off her teased and tortured breasts. He took a staggering backward step, then his feet weakened, his legs shook and he collapsed in a feeble pile of saturated sex-soaked flesh.
"My little baby girl-" he said with obscene affection.
Lori lifted her head slowly, stared down at her. father as he sprawled on the broadloom on the floor.
"I-I came, Daddy-like I never-" Lori gave a sigh of tired satisfaction. "You hurt my little cunt. It's small and you're so huge. But I came. And I loved it-and I love you, too."
Grant gave his daughter a tired and satiated smile.
She smiled back; lifted herself off the arm of the chair where she'd received a new kind of initiation, then moved over to her father, stretched herself out on the broadloom beside him.
"Do you feel good?" she whispered.
Grant closed his eyes.
"I-I shouldn't," he said. "But I do. I feel so Goddamned good!"
She kissed him on the cheek, tenderly, lovingly. "Me, too," she murmured. "I've never felt so good!"
He stroked her face absently, noticing her breasts as he did it. They were red, marked. The nipples seemed elongated, as though they'd been stretched too far.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, touching the tip of one breast very gently.
She started to shake her head, then changed her mind. "Yes, but-" she hesitated. "It's like a pleasure-pain-hurtin' but nice."
Her hand crept between her thighs. She stroked the wet lips of her vagina very slowly.
"Poor little pussy," Grant murmured.
She blinked at him. "You-you sure fucked it, Daddy!"
He stared at her face in remorse, then she laughed. "But it was-oh, so good-you'll never know how good!"
Grant dropped his eyes, feeling a blend of pride and remorse.
"Daddyo," Lori's voice was serious. "We'll do this again..."
Grant started, then screwed shut his eyes.
"One thing," said Lori. "One thing that Mom's right about-"
He opened his eyes. "What's that?"
"You're like a horse-just like a horse," Lori giggled, wetly, sexily and happily.
He just stared at her young face.
"I've never been fucked by a horse before." She gave another soft giggle. "Nor a man either, come to that. But after this-I won't want anything else." Her body shook as intimate ripples of amusement flickered through her flesh. "Just a horse-cock-just you, Daddyo-that's all that Lori wants."
"I-I don't know-" he muttered indecisively. She put her face close to his, flicked out her tongue, licked his cheek. "But I know, Daddy. You're going to fuck me whenever-" she broke off, kissed him full on the mouth.
He drew back breathlessly. "Whenever what?"
"Whenever I want it," she purred.
"No, oh no!"
She nodded her head like a serious little girl, "Oh, yes-you got to." She smiled at him, a wicked, brazen smile.
"Why have I got to?" he whispered.
She stroked his face as though he was the young one and she was a mature, wise woman.
"Because you did it once, that's why." Her eyes were fixed on his face very seriously, "and if you do it once, you're gonna do it again. That's the way it is, Daddyo. You know it and I know it. You're going to do it again-fuck me, I mean-whenever I want it." She smiled. "And I guess I'll let you do it-fuck my pussy-whenever you want it!"
All Grant could say was, "Oh, Lori!"
Before she got up to go to bed, Lori kissed him very softly on the lips again. "I hope you'll want it often," she said softly.
Then he watched as she pulled herself to her feet, not looking tired or abused or ravished, and threw her shortie robe over her nakedness then trotted across his den.
"Goodnight, Daddyo," she said from the doorway, "Goodnight, lover-"
His lips formed the words: "Goodnight-sleep tight, Lori baby." She smiled, lifted her hand, then he added: "And Lori-"
She paused, her hand on the doorknob.
"'I-I-" he swallowed. "I love you very much."
The smile spread all over her face, making her look younger and sweeter than ever.
"I know that, Daddyo-I'd never have let you do it if you hadn't!"
The expression on Grant's face was confused, but the glow in his heart was warm as he dragged his aching body upright.
The clock on the wall indicated four o'clock. Grant stifled a sigh of resignation.
It had been quite a night, he thought. He switched off the lights and prepared to go to bed.
SEVEN
There was no sliver of light under Grant's bedroom door and he tried to remember whether he'd switched off the lamp when he'd left the room more than two hours before.
He had no recollection of doing it, so he opened the door cautiously then padded around to his side of the bed.
The even, rhythmic sound of Maureen's breathing was audible to his ears.
He turned on his dim, bedside light.
Maureen's soft hair curled in a tousled mass on the pillow. Her eyes were closed and her breasts-under the chaste sheet that was pulled up to her neck-rose and fell gently.
Very carefully, Grant eased the sheet down his wife's sleeping body.
She was wearing a short nightie now, and it was rumpled around her waist.
The slim rubber dildo no longer nestled between her girlish thighs.
Maureen must have awakened after he'd left the bedroom-after he'd performed his unspeakably bitter act of spurting his juice of frustration onto her naked body-and dressed herself in her little-girl nightie, replaced the dildo in its secret hiding place, then turned off the light and gone serenely to sleep.
Grant didn't cover his wife with the sheet immediately. He sat on the edge of the bed staring at her buttocks, exposed beneath the rumpled nightie as she slept on her side.
The dusky hollow, where thigh-flesh met soft, rounded buttocks, was clearly visible.
Grant stared at it, intently.
He had seen the same sight when little Betty Malone had bent over the side of his armchair to receive her spanking ... and it had excited him.
With Lori, it had excited him more intensely.
He glanced down at his bare penis. It remained dormant, flaccid, unmoving.
His wife, Maureen, didn't seem to affect him any more.
He pulled the sheet back up her body, then turned to the mirror, examined his face in it, thoughtfully.
How many rubber dildos did Maureen possess, he wondered. Grant frowned, glanced at the dresser-her dresser-with the numerous drawers. He wouldn't know where to start to search.
Lori had said: "I used one of Momsie's bitty teeny things!"
How many did she have?
Did it matter? he asked himself. Do I care?
Grant paced about the room. He didn't feel tired. Even after such an event-filled night, he felt wide awake, alert.
Where did Maureen hide all her appliances-and what other weird rites did she perform?
The unanswered questions in his mind began to bug him!
It was a bitter kind of jealousy, he supposed. Or hurt pride that Maureen should prefer a rubber artifact to his own magnificent penis.
His horse-penis!
At another time, in another mood, Grant could have smiled at himself, but now...
He paced the bedroom, restlessly.
Suddenly, he moved to the door, opened it silently and slipped into the hallway.
Lori's bedroom door was ajar, and the light streamed out. His daughter was awake, too.
Grant pushed the door open and entered.
Lori was sitting in front of her dresser-mirror, carefully creaming her face.
Her eyes brightened when she saw her father's reflection in the glass. "Hi," she murmured.
"Hi," he answered softly, moving into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Some of the tension eased from his body at the sight of his daughter and the casual warmth in her greeting.'
"Gonna sleep with me tonight, Daddyo?" she asked, smiling at him and smearing cream around her eyes at the same time.
He smiled back. It was a tempting thought!
"It wouldn't be right," he murmured.
Lori picked up a tissue from her dresser top, began to wipe the cream off her face with dainty dabs.
"It-it was wonderful," she murmured, between dabs. "The very most-"
Grant sank down onto the edge of Lori's bed. He was still naked beneath the cloth robe that he'd flung over his body before he left his bedroom; now, it fell open and he glanced down, saw that his penis was revealed. The sight of his naked daughter, sitting in front of the mirror, had caused the thick shaft to harden imperceptibly.
It didn't do that when he looked at Maureen, he told himself with a vague sense of wonder.
Lori noticed it, caught his eye in the mirror, smiled again.
"You shouldn't feel bad, Daddyo. You're not the only one-"
Grant didn't understand what she meant.
"What?" A puzzled frown appeared on his forehead.
Lori was combing her lustrous blonde hair with long, sensual sweeps. She half-turned on the low stool that was always in front of her dresser. "I mean about me-what you did to me-"
He dropped his eyes.
"If-if it wasn't that you're my daughter."
"There's others," said Lori. "Daddies and daughters, I mean." She started to comb her hair again.
Grant's heart beat painfully. "What do you mean, Lori? What daddies and daughters?"
Lori took her time about answering. When she spoke her voice sounded more mature, more self-assured than a sixteen-year-old's should.
"There's lots of fathers who do it with their daughters. You know what I mean-make out, screw their pussies, sleep with them." Lori turned her head, screwed her lips into a suggestive position. "Like fuck, Daddyo."
The blood drained out of Grant's face. He couldn't believe it! He was supposed to know about these things ... he was a counselor ... an advisor ... an-
"You don't know what you're saying," he muttered. "You're just guessing-and guessing wrong most likely."
Lori's cute face tensed in a flash of anger. She lifted her small foot-then put it down again without stamping.
"I do know!" she snapped.
He stared at her.
"There's lots of girls and fathers," she insisted. Grant tried to smile, but his face wouldn't respond.
"Name one," he murmured. Lori's eyes opened wide. "Name one what?"
"One girl who-who-" he choked on the word, "fucks with her father."
Lori stared straight at her father.
"Coral Bates," she said clearly.
Grant caught his breath with the shock.
"You-you're putting me on!"
Lori shook her head, seriously and severely. "I mean it. Coral sleeps with her father." Grant shook himself. "How-how can you know?" Lori picked up a clasp, clipped it onto her hair. "Because Coral told me." He still didn't want to believe it. "She-she could be lying."
Lori faced him again. "Why? Why would she do that, Daddyo? What reason?"
"I-I don't know," he muttered. Why would a girl say a thing like that if it wasn't true? And yet ... yet....
"I've known Jim Bates for years. His wife and your mother are friends." Grant's voice dropped. "He-likes sports-all kinds of sports. Why, he goes fishing just about every weekend."
"That's when he sleeps with Coral," said Lori.
"What!" Grant sat straight up.
"On weekends he goes away. And Coral goes with him. They sleep in a tent and he fucks her. I know, she told me. I believe her, Daddyo-she almost brags about it."
Grant sat very still. He felt stunned. It could be true! He knew that Jim Bates took his daughter with him when he left on his weekend fishing trips. That was when Jim's wife, Trudi, would visit with Maureen ... and he, Grant, would retreat to his den to escape from their incessant gossip. It could be true-it just could-
"She's only a kid," he whispered the thought.
"Fifteen," said Lori, serenely. "She's in the grade below me."
That was right, Grant knew. Coral Day was a year younger than his own daughter.
"She's a damned well developed kid," Grant muttered, more to himself than Lori.
Lori whirled herself around. She drew in a great draft of air, made her breasts project.
"Not more so than me, Daddyo." Her voice was angry.
It hurt his face, but Grant smiled at his blonde daughter's anger.
"You're nicer," he told her.
She started a smile that turned into a sexy, suggestive giggle. "I-betcha that Coral's daddy hasn't got a horse-sized cock!"
"Oh, Lori," he remonstrated.
"I don't know it," she said. "But I betcha-"
Grant tried to make himself frown.
"Don't talk crazy-it's time you went to sleep. You know how late it is."
Lori giggled. "I ought to-you've been fuckin' my pussy half the night."
"Go to bed," Grant said severely, like a dutiful father should ... then he wondered out loud. "Why would Jim Bates do a thing like that?"
Lori stopped giggling.
"Maybe-just maybe he-likes Coral better than his wife Trudi," she suggested.
Grant stared at his daughter. She could be right!
Lori got up, slithered her naked body across the room to where her father was sitting on her bed. "Do you like me better than Momsie?"
She was so close to him that her naked hip was pressing against his side.
"Don't ask me that," he muttered.
"But do you?" she whispered. "I-I want you, Daddyo. Oh, how I want you-and you know it. Don't you want me?"
He looked down at her cute, serious face.
"Yeah-I want you, Lori baby. Geezus, I want you!"
'She snuggled herself closer to him, turned her cute face up. "Sleep with me, Daddyo," she whispered. "Sleep with me tonight."
"Oh, Lori-"
Her small hand slid over his thigh, found his penis, encircled it.
"Tonight, Daddyo." She squeezed at the thick shaft and it swelled in sympathy, " I want to feel it in me again-this big cock, this horse-thing-I want it. Maybe Momsie doesn't want it, but I want it."
Grant felt his whole body tense at the little blonde girl's words, but something still nagged at his mind.
"Lori baby," he murmured. "You told me that you used one of your Mom's things-her teeny bitty things-in your-your pussy."
She squeezed her thighs together, let the air escape from her lips in a sigh.
"The-the diddly thing," she whispered.
"Yeah," Grant breathed. "How did you find it? How did you know where to look?"
Lori's soft, curvy body rippled with amusement.
"I-I saw where she put it. After she'd used it-and-"
Grant interrupted her.
"You mean you were peeking when she was--. "
"When she was diddling her pussy on the bed," said Lori. "I came home from school early one day and walked up the stairs real quiet." She made a smothered sound of giggling. "I heard these funny noises coming from your bedroom-yours and Mom's-so I peeked in."
Lori wriggled her small body as though the memory excited her.
"Momsie was on the bed-all so naked-with her legs wide open. She had this teeny thing in her hands-" Lori's breath came jerkily. "She was pushing it in and out of her pussy-lifting her legs up high when it went in-then stretching them when it went out."
Grant tried to speak. "She didn't see you-I mean, peeking at the door--? "
Lori's small body shook with amusement. "She had her eyes shut tight!"
Grant let out his breath. So that's the way it was...
"And after," he mumbled, "you saw where she put the-the thing?"
Lori let her blonde body shiver. "Oh, yes-I saw."
"Where?"
"She-she keeps the things in a brown leather case in the bottom drawer of her dresser-way at the back."
Grant thought about it.
"How many things are there?"
Lori dropped her eyes. "I didn't count them, Daddyo. I don't even know what they're all for." She giggled, nervously. "All I know is that the long one's for-for sliding up your pussy."
Grant took a ragged breath.
"All right, Lori baby, you don't have to talk about it if it bothers you."
Lori's eyes were wide and blue. She turned them on her father. "It doesn't bother me, Daddyo. I just thought you wanted to know."
"Yeah," he said. "That's right. I wanted to know-"
She moved her buttocks on the bed, edging them closer to him.
"Now," she asked, "are you going to sleep with me-like all night, Daddyo?"
He couldn't help but smile at her persistence.
"Not tonight, Lori baby. But maybe-just maybe-" his voice trailed off.
"Ummm-mmm-" She pressed her face against his, slicked out her hungry tongue. "Sometime soon? Real soon?"
"Maybe-" he promised, as he kissed her back, then dragged himself to his feet, fastened his robe around his body and moved toward the door.
EIGHT
Maureen was still fast asleep, in the same position as when Grant had left the bedroom just minutes before.
He glided around to her side of the bed, soundlessly.
The bottom drawer of her dresser opened smoothly, and he found the brown leather case-at the back of the drawer where Lori had told him it was-without any difficulty.
Grant lifted it out surreptitiously, opened it on the floor. His face turned a dirty gray color as he surveyed the contents.
There were small tins and tubes of lubricants and salves, and five rubber appliances of varying shapes and sizes.
Grant stared at them, wonderingly.
There was the long, slim dildo that he'd seen that night projecting from Maureen's vulva as she slept the sleep of sexual satiation ... and another one, similar in length, but thicker. Two more had small rubber teeth at the ends and along the sides. Grant wondered, fleetingly, which one of these his young daughter had borrowed to perform her sexual acts. But it was the fifth appliance which caused his eyes to harden. It was similar to the first one he'd seen-the slim dildo that Maureen had used that night-but there was one glaring difference: there were straps attached to it, as though, Grant swallowed with distaste-as though it was adapted for someone to fasten around their body to use on somebody else's sexual flesh!
It was, Grant knew, a Lesbian device! Who is my wife's partner when she performs her perversion with this unspeakable appliance? he wondered.
Grant glanced toward the bed as though he would find an answer in his wife's innocently sleeping face. He closed the leather case carefully, replaced it at the back of the bottom drawer in his wife's dresser, then pushed shut the drawer.
He rose to his feet, aware of the cold sweat that had broken out on all parts of his body, and moved to his side of the bed.
The gray light of dawn was seeping through the drapes, so he switched off his bed-light, crawled between the sheets and lay on the edge of the bed.
He didn't want to feel any of his wife's body touching his. Just the thought of it sent a creepy sensation crawling all over his skin.
The dildo-the artifact that Maureen preferred to him!
His flesh flinched...
And the unknown partner, who'd strap on an artificial cock then fuck his wife until she reached her weird orgasm ... Who?
It must be a woman, he told himself. A man-any normal man-wouldn't need a perverse attachment!
But why should he assume that Maureen's sexual partner was normal?
He turned onto his side, his back to his wife, and fondled his over-large cock; it was semi-erect, vibrant and alive ... not like the monstrosities in the soft leather case.
Could Maureen have found someone who shared her strange tastes?
He screwed shut his eyes, tried to sleep. But questions tortured his mind.
Where did she meet this weird partner-and when, how often-and who?
He stifled a sob of self-pity as the thought of how he had deluded himself that Maureen was a loyal and, despite her aversion to sex with him because of her own tiny, little-girl vulva and his abnormally large penis, loving wife.
The things he hadn't known!
And Lori-sweet, sex-loving Lori-had told him about little Coral Bates and her father.
That was probably true, too!
It had been a night of revelation...
Jim Bates, forty-five and overweight, with a jovial salesman's laugh and small beady eyes that never seemed still . . .Jim had been a casual friend for years.
Grant thought about him-him and Coral-their bodies squeezed together in a tiny tent beside some fishing stream...
Jim probably delighted in screwing little Coral's tight pussy-if she still had a tight pussy, Grant added to himself with a trace of bitterness or envy-after the times that Jim must have fucked it!
Grant felt his penis move at the sexual thought of gross Jim Bates fucking little Coral's cunt ... the thought was somehow obscene!
But how about him and Lori?
That was different, he told himself with smug hypocrisy. That was just something that had happened!
Maureen stirred in her sleep. One of her smooth legs touched Grant. He flinched away from her as though she was scalding him.
Grant let out his breath. If only he could go into Lori's bedroom, sleep with her small, warm body pressed against his. But it wasn't possible, he told himself. Not yet, not tonight. But-who knew how things would be later?
The light outside the bedroom drapes was getting stronger. It was Saturday. No school on Saturday. Grant usually worked on his book on Saturday-but what would he do today?
He felt too worked up, too nervous, too over-stimulated after a night of unexpected and undreamed-of sexuality to concentrate on his book.
His eyes felt tired, so he closed them.
Maybe he'd take Lori for a drive. Maureen usually had things to do on Saturday that took her out of the house.
It was going to be a beautiful fall day. The sun was already trying to penetrate the drapes. Grant yawned, relinquished his tired body to sleep. The last thought he had was: It's a perfect day for fishing-Jim Bates and his daughter, Coral, might already be sleeping beside some remote stream...
NINE
As soon as he opened his eyes, Grant knew it was late. The bedroom drapes were still drawn, but the sun was beating against the side of them and he knew it must be after noon.
Maureen was no longer beside him, and Grant felt a small relief-then the events of the previous night blasted through his mind.
The spanking-first Betty, then Lori-and the incredible sexual acts that they had performed!
Oh, my God! The things I did!
Grant squirmed his still-naked body in the bed and became aware that his penis was enlarged-gross with bloated blood-as it often was when he first awakened in the morning.
He threw off the sheet, swung his legs off the bed-and the bedroom door opened. It was Lori!
Her eyes flickered, her cheeks dimpled and her whole face lighted up.
"Hi, Daddyo," she said in her heart-breakingly young voice.
Grant drank her in with his eyes. She was wearing her shortie robe and it swirled open, showing young naked flesh beneath. She looked good enough to eat.
"Hi, baby," he murmured.
Her eyes irised down to his penis, then she pursed out her lips. "Like a horse," she whispered.
He smiled, made no move to cover himself.
She slithered her lithe body across the bedroom, went down on her knees in front of him.
"I just got up," she whispered. "I haven't even eaten yet."
Her head went down and before Grant was really aware of it, her soft, young lips encircled his bloated cock.
"Lori," he groaned. "No-oh, no-"
She lifted her head, her lips parting from his cock with soft, moist reluctance.
"Why, Daddyo-I want to-" her cute face pouted up at him.
"Your-your mother-" he muttered.
"She's on the phone downstairs," said Lori. "I heard her from the hallway."
Grant drew in his breath.
"Get up," he said urgently. "Get up!"
Lori scrambled to her feet, looked down at her father with a hurt expression on her face.
The bedroom door opened and Maureen came in. Her eyes flickered from Grant, sitting on the edge of the bed, his penis exposed, to Lori, as she stood with her robe flowing open.
"Lori!" Maureen's voice was too high. "Don't walk around half-naked-go back to your room and get dressed."
She stood very still, breasts heaving, eyes cold and angry as Lori stalked out of the room.
As soon as the door closed behind Lori, Maureen turned to Grant, her eyes blazing.
"How could you?" She clenched her small hands into fists. "Sitting there like that-in front of your own daughter with that horrible thing-that monstrous thing sticking up?"
Grant dropped his eyes, half covered his thighs with the sheet.
"I-I just got up," Grant muttered. "Lori came in to say good-morning."
"You-you let her see that-" spewed Maureen, "that-that horse thing!"
"I just told you," Grant muttered, "I just got up."
Maureen closed her eyes, rocked herself back and forward. "It's too horrible. It's enough to make her hate men for the rest of her life."
Grant's lips tightened angrily. He stood up, letting his organ project unimpeded.
"All women and girls aren't like you, Maureen," he said bitterly.
She opened her eyes, stared at him. Grant never spoke to her like that!
"W-what do you mean?"
"Just because you hate cocks doesn't mean that all other women and girls feel the same way."
His wife's face became icily cold.
"She's your daughter-your own daughter!"
Grant picked up his robe, threw it over himself casually.
"She just happened to come in. Why make the big deal out of it? Haven't you got anything better to do?"
Maureen's face was shocked.
"Grant! What's come over you?"
He moved to the window, opened the drapes and let the strong sunlight stream in.
"Nothing's the matter with me," he said calmly, "how about you, Maureen?"
"Why-I-I don't understand," she muttered, her face shocked and pale.
He managed a strained smile.
"Don't worry about it." He gestured toward the window. "It's a beautiful day ... just perfect for fishing or golf."
For some reason, Maureen seemed to lose her anger.
"I-I was just talking to Trudi Bates," she said very quietly. "Jim's gone fishing and taken Coral with him." Maureen glanced at Grant's face, then looked away. "She invited me over for the afternoon. She's got some new paintings to show me."
Grant stood very still. Trudi Bates! Slim, boyish Trudi in her inevitable pant-suit...
His eyes flickered to the dresser on Maureen's side of the bed-and he thought of the things in the bottom drawer-especially the long, slim thing with the straps attached for...
"You see quite a lot of Trudi," he said very casually.
Maureen's whole body seemed to tense up. "She's-she's alone a lot," she said defensively.
"Jim's on the road during the week, and on weekends he goes fishing and often takes Coral along with him."
Grant didn't say anything.
"You're usually busy on your book. I like to go over and see her."
Grant picked up his electric shaver, moved toward the door.
"If you're going over to Trudi's, I may get in a game of golf. Can you fix something to eat while I shave?"
The relief seemed to flow through Maureen's body, and she smiled for the first time that morning.
"Of course I will, Grant. It'll be ready when you come down."
She moved out of the bedroom like a woman who was suddenly ten years younger.
Gram stared after her thoughtfully, then moved into the bathroom.
He almost bumped into Lori in the hallway.
"I-I heard you," she whispered. "Can I come with you?"
Grant stared at his daughter's pretty and flushed face.
"Come where?"
"To the golf club," she said eagerly.
Grant looked at her doubtfully. "Well, I don't know about that."
"Please, Daddyo," she appealed, "I-I can drag your bag around."
He frowned. "But why do you want to?"
She moved close to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and Grant realized she was still naked beneath her shortie robe.
"Because I want to be with you-is all. It is enough, isn't it?"
Grant kissed her gently on the forehead.
"We'll see," he half promised.
Lori gave a small sigh of pleasure, then scurried into her bedroom.
Grant shook his head, smiled after his blonde daughter, then entered the bathroom to shave.
TEN
Lori was already finishing her breakfast when Grant, fully dressed and shaved, came down to the table to eat.
Maureen placed a plate of food in front of her husband with unusual alacrity.
"Where're you going to play, Grant?" she asked, trying to sound interested.
Grant sipped at his coffee, thoughtfully.
"Haven't played at Benton for a long time," he said, casually.
Maureen looked surprised.
"Benton? It's so far-"
"A hundred and fifty miles," Grant said easily. Maureen's eyes flicked to the clock. "It's after two already-you'd be so late getting back."
Grant finished the food on his plate in silence. Lori opened her mouth.
"Benton's Golf and Country Club is like beautiful, Daddyo. It's real super."
Grant nodded, then spoke to Maureen. "I suppose I could stay over-come back in the morning."
He watched his wife's reaction as he spoke. Was that a flicker of relief that rippled through her body ?
"Well, if you really want to play there, dear," she said. "I suppose that's the best idea."
Grant poured himself some more coffee.
"It's pretty tough to get a caddy on weekends. I'll call them. If there's none available-well then, I'll just forget it."
Did he see Maureen's shoulders tense as he said the last few words?
"Daddyo-oh, Daddyo-I can caddy for you."
Lori bounced her compact blonde body up and down on the chair.
"You?" he said, pretending to be surprised.
"Sure, me. I can caddy as good as anyone!"
"Well, now," Grant said slowly. "I don't know." He looked at Maureen. "What do you think, dear?"
His wife busied herself near the window.
"I don't really know, Grant. But I suppose it'd be all right."
"You'd be all alone for the weekend," he said, solicitously, "are you sure you wouldn't mind?"
Maureen didn't turn to face him, but he saw her shoulders move. "I-I'll be all right, Grant." She seemed to take a deep breath, then turned, a smile on her face. "You go to Benton. It'll be a nice change. And good for Lori, too."
"Oh, Daddy," Lori squealed. "I'll be the best darn caddy ever."
"Well-" Grant pushed his chair back from the table, "if we're going-we'd better make a move."
Lori jumped to her feet. "I'm all ready, Daddyo. I'll just pack my teeny grip-" then she was running out of the room.
Grant looked at his wife very soberly. "Are you sure that you'll be all right?" he asked.
Two small spots of color appeared in Maureen's cheeks, then she turned away.
"Don't worry about me, Grant. I'll manage okay. The change may be good for-for both of us." She hesitated, then added, "and Lori."
Grant moved toward the door.
"We'll be ready to leave in about half an hour." He exited and Maureen stared at the closed door for a long time before she moved to her small phone in the corner cubbyhole, dialed quickly then spoke in a whisper.
"Trudi? I-I've got some news for you." Maureen took a tremulous breath. "I hope it makes you as excited as it makes me, dear-"
ELEVEN
"Are you tired?"
Grant smiled at the small blonde caddy who dragged his golf cart to the side of the eighteenth green.
Lori smiled back at her father, then pulled out the putter and handed it to him. "No-and I hope that you're not, either."
"I'm all right," said Grant, walking onto the green. He picked up his ball, marked the spot, then handed the ball to Lori.
She cleaned it quickly and efficiently.
"Why?" he asked, replacing his ball on the green.
"Why what?" Lori asked as he stepped back, watched his partner putt out.
"Why do you hope I'm not tired?"
Lori crouched beside Grant as he studied the line of putt. "Because you're going to the dance at the club tonight," she murmured.
Grant stroked the ball, missed the cup by inches then tapped it in and walked back to Lori.
"Is that so?" he said nonchalantly. "I suppose you don't know that you've got to have a reservation for that-"
"We got a reservation, Daddyo," she said, smiling up at him. "I made it before we teed off."
He nodded, walked off the green and shook hands with his partner.
"Very efficient caddy," he said as they walked back to their car.
"I try," Lori murmured, pulling the golf cart onto the parking lot. "Reservation for Mr. Grant and Lori Walker. They'll hold the table until ten o'clock."
"Well, now." Grant looked into her face, then folded the golf cart, stuffed it into the trunk when Lori opened it.
She slammed the trunk closed, smiled at her father.
"Sixteen years old," he said, shaking his head. "What're you going to be like when you're twenty?"
Lori giggled. "Just wait and see!"
Grant walked round to the driver's seat. "I intend to," he said dryly.
She slid in the car beside him, slithered across the seat until her thigh was touching his. "I just can't wait to get there," she said breathlessly.
The car moved forward. "To the dance?"
Her hand moved between his thighs, found his penis, squeezed it. "No. The motel-our motel-where we've got our bed booked for the night."
Grant's foot went down on the gas and the car moved more quickly. He could feel his penis jamming between his thighs as his foot went down. He could feel, too, Lori's small fingers circling the head of his penis.
"Yeah," he breathed. "There's that-"
She made a small bubbling sound, and Grant glanced down, saw that her short skirt had slid higher, and her tight red briefs were stretched and strained against her rounded crotch.
"What're you going to wear?" he muttered.
She giggled. "You mean in bed? Why nothing, Daddyo-you're going to screw me in the raw."
His penis jerked as she spoke.
"Your cock's getting bigger, Daddyo," Lori whispered. "I can feel it jerking in my hand."
Grant's chest hurt. He breathed painfully. "I-I meant-what're you going to wear at the dance. It's a pretty formal affair."
"That's all right," Lori said easily, caressing the hard ball of desire. "I packed my party-dress-and I'm going to look real cute. You won't have to be ashamed of me."
Grant squeezed her hand, then pressed his fingers between her deliciously soft thighs.
"I'm never ashamed of you, Lori baby."
He drove in silence for a minute. The motel where they had booked before they started their round of golf was fifteen minutes' drive from the club.
"Wonder if there'll be anyone there that we know?"
Her fingers tightened their grip on his penis.
"Yeah, there will-"
Grant gave Lori a sideways glance, then turned back to the road ahead.
"I took a peek at the reservation sheet while I was talking to the secretary at the club." Lori's breasts swelled as she filled her lungs with air. "This is going to surprise you, Daddyo, but James and Coral Bates have a table."
"No!" Grant's breath spurted out.
"Oh, yes."
Grant let the news sink in.
"So Jim and Coral do something else besides fishing and-" he let his voice trail off.
Lori giggled. "Fucking-maybe."
Grant winced. "Don't talk that way, Lori baby-even if-if-"
"It's true?" Lori murmured.
Grant wriggled his body in the driver's seat. "Maybe, but even so-"
"The place where they go fishing isn't so far from here," said Lori. "Maybe they do this quite often."
They were close to the motel. Grant turned off the highway.
"I wouldn't know," he muttered.
The car stopped outside their unit and Lori slithered herself out.
By the time Grant locked the car and entered their deluxe room, Lori had switched on the TV and was watching the screen while she slipped off her skirt and blouse.
Grant dropped tiredly onto the bed. Eighteen holes of golf after the night he'd spent before was quite a lot.
Lori squatted on the edge of the bed beside him. "Relax, Daddyo-I'll undress you." He was too tired to resist.
She unbuttoned his shirt, eased it off his body, then unfastened the wide belt that hugged his still slim waist.
"Lift up," she commanded in her little-girl voice as she dragged the trousers off his body.
His penis, swollen, throbbing, made a huge bulge in his silken trunks.
"These, too," Lori whispered breathlessly, gliding them off his body.
His penis stood straight up when Lori removed the confining briefs.
"I love you, big horse-cock," she whispered. She bent her head, sucked at the tip with pleasure.
Grant writhed his body with the newly discovered ecstasy.
"I'm-I'm going to fuck you, Daddyo." Lori slithered to her feet, stripped off the tiny bikini briefs that covered the base of her belly, then she dragged off the tiny bra that barely covered her developing breasts and threw herself on top of her father's body.
Her legs straddled him and she lifted her small belly until it was poised above Grant's abdomen.
"I'm gonna slide down right on top of it," she squealed. "Your big cock's going to slip into my cunt. Then I'll fuck-you lie still-and I'll fuck you until I come."
She lowered her buttocks, felt her open vagina lips touching the tip of the penis.
"You'll come, too, of course." She reassured her father.
The small cunt jerked down and Lori restrained a cry of pain as the gross organ slid inside her.
"Oh, but you're big, Daddyo-so big!"
She lifted herself slowly, letting the long shaft ooze gradually from her pussy. Grant's hands slid around her back, gripped her soft buttocks, pulled them.
"Eeeh, Daddyo-don't tear me!"
Lori wriggled her small bottom frantically as Grant's fingers sank into the soft flesh, pulling the sensitive young cheeks apart.
She pressed herself down again, savoring the exquisite pleasure of an over-sized cock squeezing between the lips of her fresh, little used vagina.
"It-it like hurts. But it's good," she mouthed, squirming like a small fish impaled on a hook and feeling her clitoris wirggling against the base of Grant's gross cock.
"Oh Lori," he moaned. "Oh, Lori baby!"
His penis was enlarged again, congested with blood. As Lori slid herself upward, he felt each small sexual ripple titillating the sides of his organ.
"I'm-going to-going to-blow," he moaned.
She moved herself down again-then up-working her small blonde body with frantic urgency.
"I-I want to come at the same time, Daddyo-the same time as you."
The words spurted from the little girl's lips at the same time as Grant felt the head of his penis retract, regorge itself, then spit forward, squirting a hot arc of juice into Lori's sexual cavern...
"I-I'm coming, Daddy. My clit's gone crazy. I'm coming all orgy come-"
The small wet head of Lori's clitoral spire bobbed and jerked in orgiastic abandon.
Grant felt the excitement and tiredness ebbing from his flesh with each sexual squirt.
"Your-your horse-cock," Lori squealed, jerking herself spasmodically. "It's squirting in me, filling me with red-hot juice."
The strength and the desire waned from Grant's tired flesh.
He opened his mouth, let the words-obscene, intimate but loving-trickle out.
"Oh Lori baby, Lori, Lori, Lori. You sweet little girl; you cock-suckin' cunt, you soft pussy-you lovable, fuckable, suckable and screwable piece of sex-soaked young flesh-I love you, Lori-Lori baby-I love you!"
Lori felt the huge organ inside her cunt gradually subsiding. She lifted her small body, flicked out her tongue, licked at Grant's cheek.
"Daddyo," she said with devotion. "You say the sweetest things!"
TWELVE
Trudi Bates was five years older and three inches taller than her closest friend, Maureen Walker.
She stood beside her now, looking slimmer than she really was because of her form-hugging pant-suit, and pointed to the painting that was propped on an easel in front of them.
"I think the colors are really something," she murmured, slipping her arm casually, nonchalantly, around Maureen's shoulders.
Maureen turned her face up to her friend. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. She flicked out her tongue, moistened the edge of her mouth as though she was emotionally aroused.
"I feel so excited," she whispered.
Trudi smiled down at her, a cool, almost condescending smile. "You like the colors-they do something to you?" she asked.
Maureen flushed a deeper red. "I-I wasn't thinking of the painting," she murmured. "It's being here with you-just the two of us-for a whole day and night."
Trudi smiled again, then walked to the low table, picked up two glasses and handed one to Maureen.
"I've got a surprise for you, too. But first-let's drink a toast!"
Maureen gave her a tremulous smile. "To the two of us," said Trudi, lifting her martini, "and the things we like to do." She drained her drink.
Maureen lifted her glass, sipped then drained it. She looked breathlessly at her friend. "And-and the surprise?" she asked. Trudi just smiled at her.
Maureen blinked her eyes. There must have been something in the way that Trudi was standing that made her eyes go down.
The tight pant-suit was snug across Trudi's breasts. It hugged her waist, pinkly and flatteringly, and at her hips ... Maureen drew in her breath with a gasp. "Oh, no-Trudi!"
Trudi smiled sardonically-then thrust her pelvis forward.
There was a hard bulge inside the pink satin pants that extended from her crotch to her navel.
"For real," whispered Maureen. "It's not for real?"
Trudi's lips were a thin, red, sexual gash in her face.
"Try it," she hissed. "You know there's a zip-" Maureen's fingers trembled as she reached forward. The pink pants opened at the front like a man's. Her finger groped for the zipper. "Aaaagh!"
The sound of horror and fascination spewed from Maureen's lips.
There was a long, flesh colored, rubberized dildo extending from Trudi's crotch to the middle of her belly.
Maureen touched it gingerly, as though it was alive.
"Is it strapped onto you?"
Trudi's lips curled back from her teeth as she laughed. "No! It's a double-ender. The other end's inside my vulva!"
"You-you mean-" Maureen's lips quivered.
Trudi wrapped her arms around her friend. "I mean that we can do it to each other, at the same time, Maureen darling. We'll do it together-really together-and come together."
Maureen's face became slack.
"Ooooh, Trudi!"
"We'll do it together," Trudi promised. "Then after-you'll kiss me-suck me until I come again like you always do."
"Oh, yes-darling-yes!"
"You'll suck me at the front and at the back-you'll do everything I want."
"Yes, Trudi-I always do."
"Because if you don't," Trudi's voice became lower, more male than female, "you know what you'll get."
Maureen's eyes became panicky. "Don't talk that way. I always do what you say!"
Trudi stared at her friend. "Yes," she hissed.
"You always do, don't you, Maureen?" Her eyes glittered. "You have to, don't you?"
"It's because-because I love you." Maureen's lips trembled.
Trudi stared at her, then indicated the glasses on the table. "Fix up two more drinks-and bring them to the bedroom."
Maureen hurried to obey. "Yes, Trudi."
Trudi shook her head, making her red hair swirl around her face as she watched Maureen hurrying to obey her. There was a cold gleam in her green eyes as she sauntered toward the bedroom with the king-sized bed that she and her husband, Jim, rarely used. It was so much better for both of them if Jim used the spare bed in the basement on the rare occasions when he slept at home.
She kicked off her shoes as soon as she felt the ultra-soft broadloom under her feet. Soft carpeting, soft draperies, soft clothes-and extra-soft bodies were some of the things she liked.
She threw herself on the bed without bothering to remove any of her clothes. Why should she? Maureen-her sex-slave Maureen-would do all that!
A small sound at the door made her lift her head from the satin pillow.
Maureen was standing, hesitantly, at the doorway, two glasses in her hands.
"Come in," Trudi said petulantly. "Don't just stand there."
Maureen brought the two glasses to the side of the bed, handed one to Trudi.
Trudi sipped at her drink.
"For God's sake, Maureen-take off your Goddamned clothes."
Maureen shivered. "Please, Trudi-don't get mad at me!"
Trudi drained her glass without answering.
Nervously, Maureen unzipped her skirt, slid it off her body, then took off her chaste blouse.
"The rest, too," muttered Trudi, watching.
Maureen unfastened her stockings, rolled them off her legs and feet. Then, shyly, as if she was being watched by a man, she slid down her briefs, bared her thighs, belly and sparse pubic thatch.
"Now undress me," slurred Trudi.
Maureen's hands trembled as she slipped her fingers in the waistband of Trudi's pants. She dragged the pants down and off the slim woman's body.
Trudi lay still, sipping her drink and watching.
Beneath the pink satin pants, Trudi was bare. She opened her legs widely, exposing the weird contrivance that she wore.
"Pull it out of me," she ordered her slave.
Maureen's fingers trembled as she reached for the end of the rubber extension that projected from Trudi's vagina.
"Will-will it hurt?" she quavered.
Trudi stretched her thighs wide. "You know damned well it won't hurt. Pull the fucking thing out!"
The shaped rubber dildo slipped out of Trudi's cunt with a sucking sound.
Maureen looked at the double-ended penis with surprise. "I-I didn't know there were things like this," she murmured.
Trudi laughed, her belly vibrating with the sound.
"Now suck it," she commanded, making herself more comfortable on her back. "Suck my cunt 'til I come."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Maureen sprawled on the foot of the bed, reached up with her mouth and lips.
"Suck it," Trudi hissed. "Grip my clit with your lips and pull."
Trudi's clitoris was long and slithery. Maureen's lips closed on it, pulled it outward with a sucking action. She held the twitching end between her teeth, then slicked out her tongue and titillated it.
"Aaagh!" The sound that spewed from Trudi's lips was a guttural groan of pleasure. "Keep sucking it-like that!"
Maureen's mouth moved frantically as she strove to retain the bobbing clitoris between her lips. Her neck muscles ached as she moved her tongue incessantly, sensually.
"Now-stick your tongue inside." Trudi lifted her hips upward as she spoke.
Maureen's tongue darted out, thrust into the hot, wet cavern of Trudi's vulva.
"Right up my cunt, you little fool. Deeper and deeper-urgh-" The slim, sensual woman on the bed rocked herself from side to side.
Suddenly, her buttocks contracted, parted, contracted again. Low moans sobbed from her mouth, then her pelvis pushed upward, vibrated. Her clitoris bobbed wildly, and the mouth of her cunt opened and closed spasmodically.
"More," she moaned. "More!"
Trudi's body whirled over and she flattened herself face down on the bed.
"The rest," she hissed.
Her buttocks reared up, thighs parted, and the wet red hole of her anus seemed to project. "Tongue it," she commanded, her voice low and vicious.
Maureen shivered, pressed her face downward again until her mouth was between the quivering buttocks.
"All inside me-as far as you can," Trudi commanded, breathlessly.
Maureen's tongue slid out again, found the wet, sticky sexual hole-thrust into it.
"Urgh-" Trudi's voice was muffled as her face pressed into the satin pillow.
With a frantic compulsion, Maureen pressed her face deeper between the shivering white mounds of flesh, opened her mouth wider, thrust harder with her tongue-gliding it in-snaking it out with ever quicker movements.
Trudi's buttocks and pelvis began to move with a rhythmic sensuality.
Maureen lifted her head a moment, glanced at the double-ended dildo that lay on the bed, then she bent to her task again.
"After you've-you've finished me," Trudi said in a sexual sob, "I'll fuck you, Maureen darling. I'll screw your puny cunt with the slim, rubber cock that you love."
But Maureen didn't answer. Tremors of anticipation flickered through her flesh and she redoubled her efforts with her fingers, mouth and tongue.
THIRTEEN
"Groovy," said Lori. "Old-fashioned-but groovy!" Her firm young breasts were pressed against Grant's chest as they danced close together on the crowded floor at the Benton Country Club.
Lori looked breath-takingly young and beautiful in the gay party dress that she'd packed for this occasion.
"You're the prettiest doll here," murmured Grant, glancing around the room. He was glad they were a hundred and fifty miles from home-glad there were no raised eyebrows at the sight of a father dancing cheek to cheek with his sixteen-year-old daughter, though Lori looked too sophisticated to be sixteen on this night, at least-and glad that when the dance was over, they would go back to their motel and sleep, flesh against flesh, and make love. His penis moved at the thought of the soft body that would be his for the night.
"There's another doll over there," murmured
Lori into his ear, "who's even younger than me."
Grant let his eyes rove round the floor. Then saw whom she meant.
"You were right," he whispered. "I can recognize the back of Jim Bates' fat neck from here. But I can't see the girl he's dancing with."
"It's Coral," murmured Lori.
"Like I thought...."
"She's all dolled out in white." Lori giggled. "Like some virgin."
"If what you told me was true," muttered Grant.
"It is."
"She's wearing the wrong color."
Lori lifted her head off Grant's shoulder, turned her head. "Maybe. But she looks real good." Lori snuggled her head against her father's shoulder again, murmuring, "She's seen me. I saw her eyes open wide."
"Geezus," Grant smothered his words. "It had to happen."
Lori looked up. "Don't worry, Daddyo-it's not like so awful."
"I know, but-" Grant muttered. "Let's go over to the bar. I feel like a drink."
The bartender mixed the fourth vodka cocktail for Grant and the second weak gin and lime for Lori.
"Don't you want to dance any more?" Lori asked.
Grant lifted his glass, drained it.
"Sure," he muttered. "Later on-sure." He waved his hand at the bartender. "Fix me another of the same."
Lori took a delicate sip at her glass, then turned when the soft voice spoke at her ear.
"Hi."
"Coral!" She smiled, let her eyes rove round, "Where's--? "
The small, dark-haired girl didn't let her finish.
"He's dancing with some old woman that he knew a hundred years ago."
Lori let her eyes flick to the dance floor. Jim Bates was dancing with a woman who looked about forty years old.
"Hello, Coral," Grant said, slurring his words.
"Mr. Walker!" Coral cooed. "How nice to see you here."
Lori examined Coral Bates with her eyes. The fifteen-year-old looked at least three years older than her actual age. Her eyes were made up, and the lids shone greenly in the light from the back of the bar.
"Having fun?" she asked softly.
Coral smiled with her mouth but not with her eyes. "Not as much as I'm going to," she murmured.
Lori let her eyebrows go up.
"We're stayin' right near you," Coral said. "The same motel. I saw your father's car before we came to the dance. If you want to, come over to our place after the dance. We're in twenty-one." Then the green-eyed, dark-haired girl moved away.
"What did she say?" Grant sounded half-drunk.
"You okay, Daddyo?" Lori asked. "Coral and her father are staying at the same place as us."
Grant nodded his head. "That figures." He lifted his hand and the bartender obediently refilled his glass.
Lori looked over her shoulder.
Jim Bates was standing at the edge of the dance floor, talking to his dance partner. As Lori watched, Coral approached the couple, then after a few words she moved away with her father, leaving the woman standing alone.
Lori smiled.
"Coral's a smart little doll," she murmured, more to herself than her father.
"Uh-huh," Grant muttered into his glass.
Lori looked around the room again.
Jim Bates and his daughter, Coral, were moving toward the door.
She gripped her father's arm.
"Want to go, Daddy?"
Grant stared at his empty glass.
"Any time-Lori baby-any time you want."
The car weaved through the entrance to the motel courtyard, came to a shuddering stop outside their unit. Lori breathed a sigh of relief.
"We made it."
Grant gave a drunken laugh. "Why, sure we did, baby."
She helped him out of the car, then opened the door and they entered the room where they'd made torrid love that afternoon.
Grant staggered to the bed, let himself collapse on it.
Lori stared at him with a disappointed and puzzled expression on her cute face. After a moment, she walked across to her father, sat on the edge of the bed.
"You okay, Daddyo?"
He muttered, kept his eyes closed, and squirmed his body deeper into the mattress. "Just tired, baby-just want to sleep for a while."
Slowly, Lori unzipped the front of Grant's pants. His penis-his monstrous horse-penis-was dormant, supine. Lori caressed it, absently and gently.
Grant began to breathe more deeply; his chest rose and fell.
Lori took a deep breath, pulled up the bed-cover and spread it over the sleeping form of her father, then she wandered to the door of their motel unit, opened it and looked out.
There was a car parked in front of unit number twenty-one. Coral and Jim Bates were back.
After another searching glance at her father, Lori opened the door of their motel, then quietly, surreptitiously almost, slipped out.
Lori could hear the raised voices as soon as she reached the door of unit number twenty-one.
"So I danced with her," Jim Bates was saying. "So what? She's an old friend, is all."
"If you want an old doll like her," Coral Bates said viciously, "you can quit using me."
"Aw, don't get mad, baby." Jim Bates sounded contrite and alarmed.
"You know what I'm going to do?" hissed
Coral.
There was the sound of a man's heavy breathing, then Jim Bates said: "I know-I know-" His voice sounded subdued now.
"I was less than fourteen when you started," Coral was plaintive, bitter. "And you've been using me ever since."
"I know, baby-I know!" Jim sounded resigned, as though he'd heard the same words before.
Lori had raised her hand to knock at the door. Now she lowered it. The conversation was interesting!
"You took me on a fishing trip with you when I was just a little kid," Coral muttered.
"Not so little," said Jim Bates. "And a damned cute kid, too."
"And we had to sleep together in a little tent," Coral continued as though she'd rehearsed the story. "All squeezed together under the same blankets, and you kept pushing against me-feeling under my nightie and tickling my pussy."
"But you liked it, baby. You just loved it!"
"Then you pushed it into me from the back," Coral said as though her father hadn't spoken. "You opened up my legs at the back-made my pussy all wet-then pushed your cock into me. You made me bleed."
"The first time," muttered Jim. "You always bleed the first time."
"You fucked me and fucked me all night."
"Yeah," Jim sounded reminiscent. "You had the tightest little cunt-"
"Then we went fishing again the next weekend," Coral said.
"And you wanted to-"
"It wouldn't've mattered if I hadn't. You wanted me along. And I know why."
"Yeah," breathed Jim. "I wanted you."
"To fuck," spewed Coral. "Not just my-my cunt. But later you poked it in my bummie-up my poor little bottom."
"Don't sound so sad. You love it-still love it. And you've got the cutest little fucking ass-"
There was the sound of Coral letting out breath. "You know what I'm going to do, Jim?"
He drew in a rasping breath.
"I-I can guess."
"I'm going to beat your fucking ass!" Coral Bates' voice was so sexually vicious that Lori scarcely recognized it.
Lori felt a wild, unexpected excitement throb through her body. Her eyes flickered around the motel, frantically. There was a small window at the side of unit number twenty-one that seemed unshaded. She left the front porch, glided round to the side of the wooden building, lifted herself up on tiptoe. She could see inside.
Jim Bates was sitting in his undershirt and shorts on the edge of the double bed.
Coral had stripped off her virginal white dress, and was standing braless and pantiless in front of her heavy-set father.
The fifteen-year-old girl made a motion with her hand, and Jim Bates shifted his bulk.
Lori watched as he turned himself over, then slid off his shorts.
His buttocks were fleshy and protuberant.
Coral dragged the belt off his pants which lay in a heap on the floor.
Lori felt a new kind of thrill spiral down her body. She slid her hand across her breasts. The tips were erect and hard. Then she glided her fingers down her body, reached for the hem of her gay party dress and slipped her hand underneath it.
Coral was standing behind her father, fingering the soft leather belt. Lori could see the dark girl's breasts rising and falling as though she was under deep emotion.
Her eyes went back to the man who was lying, face down, on the edge of the bed. His buttocks looked fatter and fleshier than ever, and between his slightly spread thighs, the back of his fat balls was visible ... they seemed to move as Lori stared at them ... She eased her hand inside her tight bikini pantileg.
The bottom part of the small window that Lori was using as her spy spot was slightly open and Coral's voice came to Lori's ears quite clearly.
"I'm going to strap your fat bottom 'til you squeal," mouthed Coral with pent-up emotion.
As Lori heard the vicious, sensual words, she felt a trickle of wetness ooze from her open vagina. She scrabbled with her fingers, then thrust upward into her cunt.
The strap was lifted. Lori could see Coral's arm trembling with anger or excitement before she brought it whistling down.
"Aaagh!" The sound spurted from Jim's face, buried in the depths of the bed.
A red mark spread across the gross buttocks and, as Lori stared at it, a deeper, wilder excitement flickered through her flesh.
The strap was raised again, slashed down harder.
Jim's body lurched upward, and the sound from his throat was muffled.
Coral strapped the huge mounds of flesh again-then, excitedly-again.
Lori could feel the pounding of her heart, and her legs ached from standing on tiptoe for so long.
Coral half-turned, and Lori caught her first glimpse of her schoolmate's face since the fifteen-year-old had started her sadistic task. Her mouth was all tightened up, and her eyes shone with unnatural brightness. As Lori watched, she saw Coral touch herself between her thighs-then run her fingers higher up her flesh until she found the protuberant tissue that oozed from the lips of her pussy. She squeezed it, teased it, sensuously.
Lori caressed her own stimulated pussy.
Before she strapped the waiting flesh again, Coral slightly parted Jim Bates' thighs and Lori saw his penis, long but flaccid, coiled between his legs.
It wasn't like Daddyo's, she murmured to herself-but it increased her excitement.
The strap flicked down, carefully calculatingly-and Lori saw the end of it slap on the bulbous balls.
A high sound squirted from the man's lips, and his whole body jerked spasmodically.
Lori felt a sudden warm wetness saturate her fingers and crotch of her briefs ... the sensual sight that hit her eyes seemed to blast all through her flesh.
"Eeeeh," she screamed. "Eeeh!"
Coral jerked herself around; her whole body seemed to tremble, then she dropped the strap onto the floor and scrambled across to the window, wrenched it wide open.
"Lori!" she gasped when she saw her friend. "What-what-"
The man on the bed twitched, half-turned over. "Who did that?" he stammered, only half aware of what was going on. "Who's there?"
Coral turned her head back to him, let the words spew out. "Stay where you are, you fat slob. Stay still."
Obediently, as though he was a slavish animal, Jim Bates turned himself face down again, then a groan grated from his throat.
"What're you doin' here?" panted Coral.
Lori's legs trembled. "I-I-" she stammered. "You-you asked me to-to come over-and-"
Coral's eyes widened. "So you peeked through the window-watched me spanking my daddy."
Lori swallowed, moistened her lips. "I heard you talking when I got to the door-so I-I-"
Coral let out her breath, then-unexpectedly-a high, over-shrill laugh pealed from her throat.
"Well, come in, Lori," she invited breathlessly when her paroxysm of mirth subsided. "You've seen it already. So come on in."
Lori's knees shook as she took hesitant steps to the door of the motel. Coral opened the door cautiously and Lori slipped inside.
Jim Bates stirred again.
"Who-who--? " he stammered.
"Stay where you are," Coral snapped, "it's Lori Walker. I saw her at the dance at the club." She drew in breath. Then added, "When you were so Goddamned busy dancing with that old bitch."
Jim half-raised himself. "Geezus, Coral. I want to get dressed." He dragged air into his lungs. "Geezus," he said with feeling, "I-I know Grant Walker and-and Lori."
"Stay where you are," Coral snapped. She picked up the strap off the floor, gave him a vicious slash. "Lori knows all about you. I told her long ago."
He groaned when the strap came down. "Knows what?" he gasped.
"About you fucking me," said Coral with cruel pleasure.
Jim's body shook. "Geezus, Coral-you're crazy-what're you trying to do? Telling that to-"
Coral leaned forward, bent down, placing her face close to Jim's. "Don't worry too much, Daddy dear ... Grant and Lori are stayin' in a motel here, too."
He twisted his neck, stared at Lori.
"You-you mean--? " he stammered.
"I mean you don't have to worry," said Coral.
Coral took Lori's arm, led her to the dresser at the side of the big TV.
"You like a drink, Lori?" Coral asked, as though having her father lying face down on the bed with his naked bottom exposed was the most ordinary thing.
"Yeah-yeah, I need one," Lori muttered.
Coral fixed drinks for both of them, ignored the man on the bed.
He lay very still, only the rise and fall of his flesh showing that he was awake.
"I suppose you wonder why Daddy lies there so quiet," said Coral, giving a small giggle.
Lori nodded, swallowed, then sipped at her drink.
Coral held up a small vial of capsules. "He's been taking these." She giggled again. "They have a peculiar effect on him-make him want to be punished for all the things that he's done."
Lori didn't understand. She shook her head helplessly.
"Like fucking my little pussy when I was an innocent little girl-"
"You're not so damned innocent now," Jim muttered from the bed.
"Thanks to you, Daddy," Coral spewed. "I'm not finished with you yet, Jim-you and big, fat ass. I'm going to beat hell out of it-and-and-" her eyes became excited "-maybe Lori would like a few lashes at it, too."
Lori felt her face flush. A strange flicker rippled through her body, but her lips whispered, "No, Coral-I couldn't do that. I just couldn't."
Coral reached inside a drawer in the dresser, took out another vial of pills. "Take one of these," she hissed to Lori, shaking a pill onto the palm of her hand. "It'll make you feel more alive. Take it, Lori."
"I-I don't know," Lori hesitated.
"I'm taking one, see?" said Coral. She popped a pill into her mouth, swallowed it with a gulp from her drink.
Doubtfully, Lori took the proffered pill, placed it on her tongue, then sipped at her drink. She felt differently almost immediately.
The warm glow of pleasurable excitement spread throughout her flesh. She held out her glass to Coral. "Another, please."
Coral laughed, her eyes too bright. "I knew it'd make you feel better."
She refilled Coral's glass generously with gin.
Lori sipped it, strolled across to the bed, her eyes fixed on Jim Bates' buttocks and the balls and cock between his thighs.
"Do-you-I mean, do you like do this often?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the dormant snake of Jim's penis.
Coral joined her beside the bed. "You mean, spank?" she asked.
Lori nodded.
"Uh-huh." Coral sipped at her fresh drink, then sat down on the bed beside Jim's unmoving body. "I like it-and he-likes it." Casually, as though he was a pet dog, Coral reached between her father's thighs, cupped his balls with her hand, then gave them a sudden squeeze.
Jim moaned weakly, opened his thighs more widely.
Coral laughed again.
"Feel them," she invited Lori.
Lori's face flushed scarlet. "No-no. I-I-" she stopped talking suddenly, then turned to her friend. "Give me another of those-those pills."
Coral looked at her sharply, then shrugged. "All right."
She went to the dresser, shook out a couple; gave one to Lori-then reached under her father's head, popped one into his mouth.
"Swallow that, Daddy dear. It'll make you feel better. More ready for what we're going to do."
He gagged, swallowed the small capsule, then his body gave a twitch.
Lori watched breathlessly. When Jim moved, his penis became more clearly visible. Hesitantly, she reached down, touched it with her fingers.
Coral's face tightened up. "Is-is your daddy's like that?" she asked, the air panting from between her lips.
Lori looked at Coral's face, then the giggles spurted from her mouth. The pill that she'd taken was making her feel light-headed, over-stimulated. "Oh, no-it's-it's-" she stopped talking, giggled again, "it's like a-a horse!"
"A horse!" gasped Coral.
Lori nodded, serious now. "He's got a horse-sized cock. It's so big-so big that-that it almost like tears you apart."
Coral thrust both her hands between her naked thighs, then squeezed at her vaginal tissue.
"Nooooo," the word hissed from between her lips.
Lori nodded. She felt drunk as well as stimulated. "That's why Momsie won't let him fuck her any more. He's too big for her little cunt."
Coral thrust two fingers inside her pussy and bent her body forward. "Is-is that right?" she hissed.
Lori reached down, lifted Jim's penis, examined it, dispassionately. He lay very still, breathing hard through his nose.
"That's so," she assured her friend.
"How about you?" The words shot from Coral's mouth.
"Me?"
"Does-does he fuck you?"
Lori giggled again, nodded.
Coral's face was pale. "Does it-hurt?"
Lori nodded very slowly. "Oh, yes. It fills me so completely, but it's so good-" she half-closed her eyes "-you'll never know how good."
Coral's face tightened up.
"Why're you here now? I mean-why aren't you fucking with that-that horse-cock? Why-"
"Because Daddyo's too drunk. He's passed out on the bed," Lori murmured regretfully.
"Is that so?" whispered Coral.
She rose to her feet suddenly, picked up the strap again. "You and your puny penis, Jim. You and your pint-sized cock. Why haven't you got a cock like a horse? Why? Why?" She lifted the strap, brought it down with all her strength onto the fleshy roll of her father's buttocks.
He gave a low sob of pain.
Coral strapped him again, then again and again. His flesh began to shake like a mass of blubber. Lori watched with growing excitement.
Coral noticed the little blonde's emotion, and suddenly she handed her the strap. "You do it, Lori. Real hard. He-likes it-and I think you'll like it, too."
The excitement made her pussy get wet again as Lori took the strap from her friend.
"You're sure that you want me to," she murmured.
Coral nodded, vehemently. "Yeah, sure. Go on-he loves it. The fat slob just loves to be spanked."
Lori lifted the strap, rose to her feet, positioned herself behind the prone man.
The strap came down with a satisfying squelch onto the already bruished flesh.
The air panted from Lori's nostrils. "I-I liked it," she muttered. "It's awful-but I liked it!"
"Go on doing it," whispered Coral.
She moved to the side of the bed, picked up a skimpy mini-dress, shrugged her naked body into it.
"I-I want some fresh air," she told Lori. "Just go on spanking Daddy 'til I come back. I-I won't be long."
Lori looked at the throbbing buttocks, then reached inside her briefs. She was soaking, sopping wet.
"You're sure it's all right?" she asked. But she was already lifting the strap for another vicious slash.
"Yeah, sure," Coral assured her, moving toward the door. "Keep on spanking. I won't be long." Then she whipped open the door, glided out into the night.
Lori brought the strap down, hard.
Jim stirred. "You can keep on doing it, Lori. It's all right," he muttered. "If you like it-then I like it-so keep on."
Lori squeezed the tip of her clitoris with her free hand. Then the strap slashed down again.
A tiny spurt of fluid gushed from her vagina.
She dropped the strap for a moment to drag her mini-briefs off.
This was much better, Lori decided, holding herself tightly, sexually with her free hand as she stood with her legs astride, and slashing at Jim's naked buttocks with the strap that she gripped so tightly in her other hand. This was fun, real fun!
The slashes rained down...
FOURTEEN
Grant Walker opened his eyes and gave a low groan. His head! Why did he have to drink so much at the Club?
He half raised himself, glanced around for Lori. She was nowhere to be seen.
He felt a momentary alarm, then forced himself to relax. She'd probably gone to the motel snack-bar for a coffee. He couldn't blame her, he told himself, dragging himself to his feet.
He shouldn't have let himself pass out like he had done, leaving little Lori all alone.
His pants were open at the front, he discovered, and his penis, his gross, oversized penis-was sticking straight out. like always, it had swollen into an erection when he was sleeping. He fingered the huge shaft absently, then stripped off his clothes completely, savoring the small breath of air that wafted against his hot, naked flesh.
He'd pour himself another drink, just a small one this time, then watch TV until little Lori came back to the motel.
He squeezed his thighs together as he moved about the motel room. He felt excited, worked up at the thought of the young girl-flesh that would be his.
He switched on the TV, carried his drink to the bed. But his mind wasn't interested in the program, he closed his eyes and thought of the blonde nymph that was his daughter-who monopolized his mind and desires.
He was still dozing when there was a slight sound at the door.
Grant smiled, but didn't open his eyes as soft footsteps padded across the floor.
The small hand reached between his thighs, found his penis, closed on it, gripped it, sweetly, excruciatingly.
He opened his eyes, smiling. "Lori-" he began, then he tried to raise himself up in shock.
"Coral!" he spurted out the name. "Coral Bates-what--?what--? "
She smiled at him, a cool, self-possessed smile.
"It's all right, Mr. Walker. It's just me."
Her hand slid up his swollen organ, caressing it, feeling it, savoring the gross size and Grant could feel the sensual tremor in her tiny fingers.
"Coral, what're you doing here? You oughtn't to be-"
"I said it's all right, Mr. Walker," she said in a sexy whisper. "Lori's all right. I just saw her and she won't be back for a while. But she's all right. I-I wanted to see you-"
Coral's small, soft, knowing fingers were having an effect on him. He should jump off the bed, get dressed, tell this sweet, dark-haired little girl to get away from him-to go back to her father-to-toBut what she was doing was too sweet-too sensually sweet. And Lori wouldn't be back for a while, she said.
"Why-why did you want to see me?" he muttered.
Her hand tightened its grip, and he felt his penis rearing to its full horse-sized thickness.
"I want you to fuck me," she sighed. Then she was on the bed beside him, dragging up her skimpy dress and he could feel her bare flesh pressing against his.
"No, Coral," he groaned. "Oh, no."
"I've always liked you," she lied. "Kind of adored you from a distance. And I want to be fucked by you, Mr. Walker."
His cock was twitching and throbbing in the grip of her tiny hand.
"Don't call me Mr. Walker," he said, feeling more drunk-and excited-than he had been all night.
"I want you to fuck me, Grant," she hissed into his ear. "My pussy's small and tight. I want you to tear it all open with your big cock-your lovely horse cock." Then she was lying on her back, spreading her thighs wide and reaching down, opening the lips of her vulva so that the head of her clitoris could slide out.
"Fuck my little cunt, Grant. Squirt your stuff inside me. Make me come. It'll feel good. For you, too. I'm a good-a good fuck. I know it, my daddy's told me so."
The air spurted from Grant's lips; in some way he was lying on top of the tiny girl who had spread-eagled herself on his bed ... He could feel his enlarged cock between her young thighs, searching for and finding the hot, wet entrance to her vulva. Her pussy ... her cunt!
The soft walls of her vulva gripped at his cock; he forced himself upward ... Geezus, it was tight! He'd never felt anything so tight-not even Lori! He slid in deeper. Her pussy was soaking wet, a slithery, greasy wetness. He drove inward and the small girl gave a high squeal.
"Hurt?" Grant panted. "Did I hurt?"
Coral wriggled herself, sucking him deeper inside her.
"Go on fucking," she gasped. "That's what I came for. That's what I want. Fuck my cunt, Grant ... Hurt me, thrill me-and make my pussy go!"
His body vibrated with a new excitement.
The ecstatic squeals rocked from Coral's throat. She could feel the huge snake pressing into her until it seemed to reach to her belly.
"I-I'm going to come soon, Grant," she said, her voice high, wild.
Her small pelvis began to jerk spasmodically and Grant felt his organ swell.
Geezus, but this was good!
The thrills ran from his scrotum to his balls and base of his shaft. He could feel the thrills making larger and larger circles at the bulbous end of his cock.
"I'll fill you," he panted. "My stuff'll overflow from your tiny cunt."
"Do it," Coral squealed. "Fill me so full it'll squirt from my ass."
His cock expanded. The spurts started to jerk down the length of his shaft.
"I'm coming," Grant panted, working himself with violent motions.
"Go, go, go!" Coral chanted, writhing herself in a sexual frenzy.
"Urgh, Coral-urgh-you tight pussy. You squeezing cunt. I'm blasting!"
"Eeeh, eeh, eeh!"
Coral's buttocks opened, closed, opened again as the hot squirts of juice shot into her.
"Eeh, I'm going to burst right open with all your sex stuff. Eeeh, Grant-I've never blasted like this. Aargh, I'm blowing-like shattering-eeeeeh!"
Her voice shrilled to a high peak and shuddering spasms spattered through the young girl's flesh.
Grant felt his orgasm reaching its highest point, then the soft relaxing ebbing of desire satiated his body.
His whole body lay limp on top of Coral's. Slowly, he rolled himself off.
"Nothing like that," he murmured weakly. "Nothing like that ever. You're the real end, Coral. The softest, sexiest end!"
She wriggled with ecstatic satisfaction. "Better than Lori?" she had to ask.
The name reminded him. Grant tensed.
"Don't ever tell Lori, Coral. Don't ever!"
She kissed his face gently, reassuringly. "Don't worry about that, Grant. Lori'll never know."
He sighed with relief.
"But we'll do this again," she said, softly.
His body reacted. "Tight little cunt," he whispered.
"Am I?" Her voice was pleased.
"The tightest," he told her. "And wettest."
She giggled.
"Your big cock made it that way."
He could feel it hardening again.
"How about," he hated to ask it. "How about Jim, your father. I mean-is he like that?"
Coral gave a wet laugh. "No-nothing like yours, Grant."
He felt himself swelling with a guilty pride.
"There probably isn't another one like it in the whole world," Coral whispered, then giggled. "Not on men. Maybe horses."
He drew in a gulp of air.
"Don't tell Jim," he cautioned.
"Oh, no-"
"Or Lori."
Coral wrapped her arms and her legs around him. "Neither'll ever know," she promised, then she began rubbing her open pussy against Grant's cock as she started to entice him to thrust his huge organ into her small cunt again.
FIFTEEN
Jim Bates moved his body on the bed. "I-I can feel them throbbing all through me," he panted. "The spanks, the spanks that you're giving me-"
Lori stared at Jim Bates' crisscrossed buttocks on the bed.
"Does it like do something to you?" she asked, her voice excited. She was still feeling the effects of the pills that Coral had given her.
"Geezus, yeah," he blurted. "How about you, Lori-does it do something to you, too?"
Lori glanced at the wetness that streamed from her pussy. Even the cheeks of her bottom felt stimulated and the tiny star of her anus was wet and vibrating.
"Oh, does it," she moaned.
Jim turned himself over and Lori saw his penis. It was small after her father's oversized cock. "I-I'd like to fuck you, Lori," Jim muttered. Her eyes focused on the balls under the penis. "But-but-Coral-" she murmured.
"She won't be back for quite a while," he said too quickly. "I know Coral. When she gets too excited-or too mad at me-she goes and walks and walks-"
Lori closed her eyes. She felt the excitement rippling all over her flesh at the thought of a new penis, thrust into her!
"Lori," muttered Jim, "I'd like to fuck your ass!"
Lori's eyes opened wide. She remembered then what Coral had been saying. "But, but-" she began.
Jim sat up, reached out to the small blonde girl and pulled her onto the bed.
"I want to, Lori. And you'll like it. Coral-likes it. She always-likes it."
Her legs and arms felt limp. The strap dropped from Lori's hand.
She didn't resist when Jim Bates turned her over on the bed, lifted her short skirt and bared her soft, plump bottom.
"Right inside here," Jim muttered, thrusting his finger between the smooth, soft cheeks.
"Urgh-" the gasp spurted from Lori's lips as his finger found her anus.
"So tight," he whispered. "Tighter than a cunt-so soft and wet-"
He dragged himself upward, stood with his penis projecting, then let himself go down onto the pliant body of the blonde little girl.
"It'll only hurt for a moment," he assured Lori as his hands pulled her buttocks apart. "And then it'll be pure delight." His penis probed at the wet hole of her tiny anus, found the opening, then thrust itself inside.
"Eeeh-it's splitting me!" The words came from Lori's lips in a shriek.
"Just for a second," Jim grunted.
He thrust inward hard and his cock penetrated the fragile tissue, lurching a slimy path inside the tight, soft canal.
Lori buried her face into the mattress. The sensation of a cock pushing into her anus hurt ... but was thrilling.
She moved her thighs, felt her clitoris move.
"My clit," she muttered. "I want to have my clit go, too."
"Sure!" The word spurted from Jim's lips as he savored the tight sweetness that was sucking at his cock. "I'll fix that." He reached underneath her, found the slippery clitoral head and squeezed it, pulled it outward, strongly and sensually.
Lori rocked her body gently. This was nice!
"Don't tell Coral," she muttered. "Nor Grant."
The beginning spasms of his orgasm were starting to surge through his flesh.
"No," Jim panted. "They'll never know. This is just between you and me, Lori."
"I'm startin' to glow," she whimpered, wriggling her buttocks.
"Glow and go, go, Lori-" Jim worked himself fiercely.
"Faster," urged Lori. "And pull at my clit. Harder an' harder."
Jim felt his penis swelling.
"Squeeze your cheeks together tight, Lori. Grip my cock with your ass."
"Eeeh, yes, Jim-Eeh, yes!"
The spasms were undulating from his cock to Lori's anus to her clitoris. She felt like a mass of sex-soaked flesh.
"Now-" Jim shouted, thrusting forward with his pelvis. "Now, now, now!"
Small bubbles of sex-sounds spewed from Lori's lips as she felt the juice squirting inside her. Her clitoris bobbed, out of control as Jim flicked it with wild excitement.
"I'm going!" sobbed Lori. "Eeeeh, eeeh!"
"Aaargh!-" The juice spurted again, then again-then Jim's penis softened.
After a few moments, Jim rolled his body off Lori.
By the time Coral returned to the motel, Jim was lying face down again on the bed. Lori had replaced her bikini briefs and was standing with the strap in her hand.
"Was I long?" Coral asked softly, her eyes taking in the scene.
Lori shook her head. "No-but," her eyes wavered, "maybe I'd better get back to Daddy."
Coral turned her head away, walked to the dresser and poured herself a small drink.
"Maybe, Lori." She turned, smiled. "It's been kind of nice having you here." Her eyes flicked to the body of her father on the bed. "Maybe we'll do this again some time."
Lori dropped her eyes, whispered, "Yes."
"Did you enjoy it?" Coral asked, her eyes flicking to the strap in Lori's hand.
Lori flushed, then nodded slightly.
Coral turned away to hide the smile on her face. So did I, she told herself as she thought of Grant and his huge organ. "We must do it again," she said sweetly. "The whole bit-all over again!"
SIXTEEN
Maureen Walker lay on her back on Trudi's oversized bed. Her thighs were stretched apart in an impossible split and the lips of her vagina were curled wide open to accommodate the slim, rubber dildo that Trudi was driving in and out of her cunt.
Each time the slim woman pressed herself forward to thrust the rubber penis inside, the other end of the appliance drove deep into her own open pussy.
"This is the wildest thing ever, Maureen darling," Trudi whispered as she worked herself with sexual intensity.
"My poor, poor pussy," murmured Maureen. "It's never been fucked so much!"
Trudi let her body shake with amusement and excitement.
"A day and a night of non-stop sex, lover. How did you like it?"
Maureen clasped her female lover in her arms. "I loved it, Trudi-but I'm tired."
"I feel fresh as ever," Trudi laughed, driving the rubber cock into Maureen's cunt with a vicious thrust.
Maureen winced.
"But you've been lying on your back for hours-while I sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked!"
Trudi giggled. "My cunt's never been sucked off so many times."
"And you liked it?" Maureen sounded anxious.
"Just loved it," murmured Trudi.
Maureen wriggled as though her vaginal walls were getting sensitive.
"You-you even made me suck you off while you were eating at the table," she murmured.
"Yes," Trudi sighed, reminiscently. "You make a perfect little dog, Maureen. Slave or dog, that's what you oughta be-"
"On my hands and knees under the table eating your pussy?"
"While I ate my lunch," put in Trudi. "But you liked it, didn't you?"
"Of course I did, Trudi-you know it!"
Trudi placed her hands under Maureen's buttocks, dragged her body up higher, then drove forward with her pelvis and forced the rubber dildo deeper in Maureen's vulva.
"You like me better than Grant, don't you?"
Maureen shivered. "You know it."
"I'll bet you squeal when he forces that horse-sized cock into your tiny cunt."
"Oh, do I?" moaned Maureen. "You can't imagine how it hurts!"
Trudi seemed to get more excited. "I-I'm coming, Maureen."
Maureen tried to work herself more quickly ... but her used and abused pussy was aching.
"Aaagh-Maureen, I'm going-aaagh!"
Trudi's body rocked and rocked, then abruptly she rolled off her girl friend and the two-ended dildo slid slowly from their vulvas.
"That was good," murmured Trudi.
"Yess," whispered Maureen.
Trudi seemed thoughtful. "Tomorrow, you'll be back with Grant-"
Maureen gave a small shudder. "Do you have to remind me?"
"But it's true. And Jim and Coral will be home at the same time."
"Yes."
Trudi glanced at the slim woman, lying on her back on the bed with her eyes closed.
"I've got another surprise for you, Maureen." There was a sly expression on Trudi's face as she spoke.
Maureen opened her eyes, gave a tired smile.
"Just lie still with your eyes closed, and keep your legs like this-" she reached between Maureen's thighs, opened them a little wider, "and I'll bring you your surprise."
Quickly, Trudi slid off the bed and ran to her dresser. She returned to the bed almost immediately, holding something behind her back.
"Keep your eyes closed, Maureen. You're gonna get a surprise."
Maureen gave a sad smile, screwed shut her eyes.
Trudi brought her hand from behind her back, held it poised between Maureen's thighs for a minute. Between her fingers she was holding a monstrous leather dildo.
A tight, cruel expression flicked across Trudi's face as she surveyed the object in her hand and the small, tight cunt with its red, raw lips.
"Don't open your eyes 'til I tell you," she warned. Then she drove the thick leather dildo upward until it hit against the wet lips with a sickening, stretching sound.
The squeal burst from Maureen's lips, bounced off the ceiling.
"Trudiii-what're you doing?"
Trudi drove the leather implement deeper into the squirming, wriggling cunt.
"Squeal, Maureen," she gloated. "I like to hear you squeal."
Frantically, Maureen strove to squirm herself off the torturing artifact.
Trudi reached upward with her free hand, smacked Maureen across the face. "Don't try and get away."
She drove the implement in deeper. The walls of Maureen's small pussy were stretched open until a sliver of blood spewed out.
"I'll fuck you, Maureen. You like me to fuck you. So I'll fuck!"
"Not with that!" screamed Maureen. "You're breaking my cunt in two!"
Another ear-splitting squeal spasmed from Maureen's lips.
Trudi's face worked with her excitement. "Keep squealing, darling. It does something to me. Keep squealing."
She twisted and screwed the leather dildo viciously, cruelly.
The sobs and screams blended in a cacophony of sound.
"You know something?" Trudi sounded wondrous. "If you keep squealing like that-you're going to make me come again!"
And the dildo tortured as the squeals became a blubbering blend of agonized sound...
SEVENTEEN
Grant and Lori arrived home late on Sunday night. A pale-faced, haggard-looking Maureen opened the front door for them.
"You have a good game?" she asked as if she didn't really care.
"Wonderful," said Grant, not meeting his wife's nervous eyes.
"Hi, Momsie," said Lori, running past her mother, then scrambling up the stairs to her room.
"Hello, Lori," she answered slowly, not giving the girl a second glance.
She followed Grant into the living room.
"Have you eaten?" Maureen asked.
"Yes-we had a meal on the way."
Maureen sighed. "There's someone here to see you. She insisted on waiting. She's been here for almost two hours."
Grant looked startled. "Who?"
"That girl who came to see you the other night-that Betty Malone."
Grant tensed. "Is she all right?" Maureen shrugged. "Seems so. I sent her to wait in your den."
Grant took a deep breath.
"I'll see her right away." He started to move toward the door, then hesitated. "Are you all right? Is there anything you wanted to talk about?"
Maureen shrugged again. "No."
"I'll see the girl right away," Grant said.
Maureen moved toward her kitchen. "All right," she murmured. "I won't disturb you."
She was sitting in his armchair, looking smaller and cuter than ever, and she rose to her feet as soon as Grant entered the den and closed the door behind him.
"I-I'm like sorry to bother you, Mr. Walker," Betty began.
"It's all right, Betty," he said gently. "Is there something new the matter?"
A small smile flickered across her face. "Not really new, Mr. Walker."
Grant sat down at his desk, waited for her to go on.
"You know you said that whenever I felt I needed it, I could come to you."
"I remember," Grant said quietly.
She stared at him with her big eyes wide open, then she reached to the waist of her skirt and unwrapped it.
"Like again, Mr. Walker. I did it again."
He didn't say anything, just watched her slip her fingers inside the waistband of her tiny briefs and slide them off her flesh.
When she turned, he saw that the marks he'd made when he'd spanked her were still visible on her flesh.
"I feel guilty," she whispered. "I want you to spank me."
"What did you do?" he asked quietly.
She played with the small thatch of brunette foliage as she answered him.
"Two guys-they-they gave me a lift. Then, you know-"
Grant sighed. He could see the edge of pink vaginal lips that looked curled-open, ready, under the hairs on her crotch.
"They-they drove into the woods-and like undressed me, Mr. Walker."
"I've told you to call me Grant."
"They took off my briefs, Grant, opened up my pussy then bent me over the car seat and did it."
She wriggled her rounded thighs against each other.
"Their cocks were long and shot off so hot inside me-I-I liked it. I didn't try and stop them. They fucked me-both of them-twice each. And I did something else-something bad, Grant. You'll be shocked..."
"What did you do, Betty?"
Her face flushed. "I went down on one of them. I sucked his cock with my mouth. He went off inside my throat."
Grant was silent. What could he say?
"So-I feel guilty and I want to be spanked. Will you spank me-like now."
"Do you want me to?"
Her face lighted up. "Oh, yes. It'll make me feel so much better-"
Grant dropped his eyes. He was a school counselor. It was his duty to help the pupils!
"Yes, Betty. I'll spank your bottom."
She went to the armchair and bent over it without him telling her to. Then he was standing behind her, looking at the soft, white buttocks that opened to reveal a bright, red anal star-and below there was the soft fringe of hair and even softer lips that were already open, ready...
He reached to his crotch-his penis-his horse-cock was swelling.
"I'll help you, Betty," he whispered, lifting his hand. He was a counselor-and had duties to perform.
Very slowly, he began to unfasten the front of his pants...
