The end result of a well-meaning parent's over protectiveness often is a rebellious child. And when the child reaches the stage where he or she feels adulthood has been attained, even more serious problems may result. Witness the disturbing number of runaways in this country today.
This urge of freedom in a youth who has been stifled by over protectiveness often manifests itself in other ways also.
In BEND OVER, MOM, Brand Foxhill is trying desperately to find himself, to be a man, to stand up to his dominating mother�he eventually stands on his own two feet, but before his goal is achieved, he realizes that those times his mother spanked him and punished him were the only way she could express her love for her son.
A startling novel for entertainment, but also a commentary worth the attention of all who bear the responsibility of raising children.
�The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Arab Foxhill awakened in the early morning. The soft pink blanket slid forward to expose her full and naked breasts, long nipples erect, dark-ringed and womanly. A moment later she stopped stretching and relaxed again.
Arab's face clouded as she thought about her son. Of late the boy was turning into a real problem. The heat of youth was burning in his loins. She knew Brand played with his cock at night. Come stains on his bedsheets bore this out. So far he hadn't made time with anything except his hand ... she had seen to that. But how much longer could she keep him a virgin?
She hadn't realized how much or how quickly he had matured until she had discovered those stains on his bedsheets.
From that morning on she had looked for and found certain changes in her son's character. Steps had been taken to correct them. A deep sigh disturbed her magnificent breasts. Brand seemed to be getting more and more restless since she had given him hell for masturbating. Whacking his naked ass with the cypress paddle hadn't helped, either. If anything, it had served to make her son more secretive ... and more determined to get his cock softened in some way other than self-gratification. Like by burying it in a girl's cunt.
It didn't take genius to conclude that her son was on the prowl for a real live fuck. He would have no problem in scoring for a piece of tail. A handsome and wealthy boy never did. Girls would gladly surrender their cunts or mouths or assholes to the son of the richest woman in Harbor County.
Arab's breasts bounced as she sat up in bed and muttered darkly, "They'll play hell doing their sex numbers on my son if I can do anything to keep it from happening. He won't get rid of his cherry if I can help it. Not until I know for sure he can stand on his own two feet. Right now he can't. He's still a baby. I can still keep him in line with the paddle."
She thought about the cypress paddle. She had used it on Brand's naked ass only the other night. Lil Wheat, her confidential everything in business and otherwise, had been on hand to witness Brand's punishment. And later the strawberry blonde had told her, "You can't keep bullying Brand with that hunk of wood forever, hon. One of these times he'll take the damn thing away from you and do some ass-thumping of his own. Maybe on yours."
And she had replied, "When that happens, if it happens, then I won't need the paddle any more, love. That's when my baby will become a man."
"Your man, hon?"
"Am I that obvious about it, Lil?"
"Only to me and Stella Grabowski, hon."
"I won't deny that my feelings toward Brand are far from maternal, Lil. The person doesn't exist who isn't weak in some way. My weakness happens to be my son."
"Different strokes for different folks," Lil had said solemnly. "But I can't help worrying about the paddle and punish number you keep doing on him."
"I am a possessive bitch, aren't I?"
"Overly so, hon, but it won't work with Brand. I know it, Mrs. Grabowski knows it, and deep down in your heart you know it. Nobody is ever going to own that boy. Not outright. The kid's a born tiger. It's just that he hasn't learned how to growl yet."
"And until he does I'll keep him under my thumb."
"With the paddle?"
"What else?"
"I hope to hell you know what you're doing, hon."
"So do I, Lil. So do I."
Arab's thoughts jerked back into the present as gentle knuckles tapped against her bedroom door. A few seconds later the door opened and Lil Wheat came into the room, wearing a pale-blue dressing gown, and carrying a tray loaded with breakfast.
Lil beamed a smile at Arab and said, "Morning, hon."
Arab made no attempt to cover her naked breasts. The long-legged and beautiful strawberry blonde had seen them before. They were friends. They were also lovers. Ever since their early teens.
Lil placed the tray on Arab's lap, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of her left breast before she said, "I hope you feel as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as you look, hon. Today is Thursday and you know what that means. One ten o'clock pep talk to the various spokes that made up the wheel of Foxhill Enterprises, an eleven o'clock television interview on Meet the Realtors, and ... "
"You're a sadistic bitch," Arab laughed. "First you bring me a lovely breakfast, and then you quickly proceed to ruin my appetite."
" ... and after the television interview," Lil continued, "I'll drive you back to your office where I shall then lock the door, rip off your clothing and mercilessly eat your delicious and juicy cunt."
"Why wait so long? Why not do it now?"
Lil licked her lips. "After the way I drained you last night, I thought I'd give you time to recharge your battery."
Arab lost interest in her breakfast. "You just put this bird on overcharge, love."
Lil placed the tray on the floor, then straightened and looked at Arab, heavy breasts rising and falling. "Are you sure, hon?"
"Try me."
The strawberry blonde bent, kissed her briefly. Lil's lips were full and moist, and Arab seized her. Lil broke free with a pleased laugh, pushing Arab's hands back. Then she stood up beside the bed and said, "Let me get out of this damn night sack before we do our special number, hon."
"Need a hand?"
"Not the kind you want to give me, hon."
Arab laughed.
Lil Wheat unzipped the pale-blue gown. She was wearing nothing underneath. Arab's dark eyes feasted on the woman's exquisite breasts and the triangular patch of pussy fur between her legs.
"I'm still on overcharge, love."
"Tell me that five minutes from now," Lil laughed as she slipped quickly into bed with Arab. "Come here, wench."
Their breasts met, so did their cunts. Arab's cunt began to juice. She closed her eyes. "Lil."
"Yes, hon?"
"Suck my cunt."
"Now?"
"Yes, now."
Arab shuddered and kept her eyes closed. Lil's mouth dropped to her throat, then to her left breast. Arab moaned softly as Lil began to suck on her nipple. Slowly at first. Then harder and harder.
Arab panted, "You've got me, now take me!"
Lil's mouth moved away from Arab's breast and trailed downward toward her melting cunt. Lil's tongue prowled through the pubic underbrush, found and jolted her clit.
Arab writhed, hips twisting. She arched her body, legs doubled back, heels digging.
"Ah, ah, ah," she moaned, "your tongue feels so wonderful on my clit, darling ... but it will feel better inside my pussy. Do it, Lil. Lap me, lap me!"
Lil stopped licking and sucking on Arab's clitoris and thrust her tongue between the wet lips of Arab's cunt.
Ecstasy engulfed Arab, making her hips jerk faster. Gasps ripped loose from her throat as a sudden violent spasm shook her for an eternity of seconds. Then she went limp and warm back on the bed ...
When the room came into proper focus again, Arab found Lil seated next to her, smiling. She smiled back. "I do believe you can forget about having me for lunch today, love. I think I'm going to run on a low battery for the next twenty-four hours after the way you just drained me."
Lil reached out and patted her flushed cheek. "Thanks for the warning, hon, but don't sweat it�I won't go hungry. Not with that big secretarial pool you keep on hand for me to tap."
Arab made a sour face. "I wondered what their qualifications were, sweet thing." She laughed softly. "Speaking of secretaries, there's a little night-haired bird who would like to switch professions and come to Foxhill Enterprises. A real gourmet's special, Lil. Her name is Cherie Parten. Check her out when you have some free time."
"I already have, hon."
"And?"
Lil shook her head. "We don't want or need Cherie Parten. The kid is strictly bad news. The police ran her out of Miami for selling the world's oldest commodity. That, in itself doesn't bug me, hon. It's just that there's something about that chick that doesn't ring right. Neither does your day bartender at the Pour House."
Arab cocked an eyebrow. "How the devil did Ed Drake get into this conversation?"
"Through Cherie Parten. She's been teamed up with him since the day she landed in Harbor City. They're both bad news. Let her remain a hairdresser. We don't need her."
Arab's shoulders twitched, her breasts quivered. "Consider the subject closed, love. Now how about getting your beautiful rear in gear so I can get to the office?"
Lil bounced out of bed. "I'll draw your bath, hon."
"Like heck you will," Arab hissed as she sat up quickly, making her big breasts wobble. "Every time you do me that honor we wind up in the damn tub together." She pointed dramatically toward the door. "Go, pretty bird. Fly, fly."
"All right with you if I slip into my gown first?" Lil picked up her nightie and slipped into it. "Seeing me in the nude would send poor Mrs. Grabowski into shock. Which reminds. The monthly bill is due on the private care you're giving your husband at Sunshine Acres."
"I didn't forget," Arab said as she slipped out of bed. "You'll find the signed check in my home office."
She walked up to Lil. She flung her arms around the strawberry blonde's neck and kissed her resoundingly on the mouth. Breasts met, bodies strained against each other. The kiss held for several delicious seconds. Then Arab stepped back. "Enough is enough, love. Leave before I go bananas and rape you."
Lil trilled a laugh and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Arab's thoughts returned to her son as she ran water into the tub. Next week he would be nineteen. He was in his prime. Juices flowed easily and abundantly when a person was young. Her own juices had started flowing at the tender age of fourteen, for this was when she had surrendered her cherry ... to her twenty-year-old brother.
A shiver sliced through Arab's system as she lowered herself into the bathtub and drifted back to the first time she and her brother had fucked. Remembrance caused her nipples to harden and strange sensations seized the muscles of her loins. A shiver ripped through her. Damn, what a juicy first affair that had been!
The scene unfolded in her mind ...
Craig was waiting for her in front of the theater. As she walked up to him, she could tell by the prominent bulge in the crotch of his pants that his cock liked what it was seeing: A fourteen-year-old virgin dressed in a short skirt that fit her like a second skin, and a boyish white blouse through which he could see the outline of the bra that held her budding breasts.
Craig's eyes were on her breasts, his mind already between her thighs. She could almost hear his cock dripping in delight as he drooled over the prospect of prying out the cherry she still had in her tender young cunt.
"Right on schedule," Craig drawled, not bothering to conceal his erection. "The flick I want you to see is due to start in three minutes."
She smiled. "Being anywhere on time isn't one of my better habits, big brother. Consider yourself flattered."
"I am," Craig replied as his hungry eyes continued to feast upon her hard, lemon-sized breasts. "Where you're concerned, I always will be."
"Thank you."
"Any trouble cutting class?"
She shook her head. "I only hope our parents don't find out about my going the hooky route to keep a date with you."
Craig made a sour face. "Don't sweat it, Arab. In case you haven't noticed our good mother and father are too preoccupied with business and each other to pay very much attention to us."
They entered the semi-dark theater. She almost giggled at the way he had to hold down his hard-on by cramming a hand in his pocket so the usherette wouldn't notice it.
They settled down to watch the flick, but she sensed that Craig's heart wasn't in it. She knew his cock ached to find its way between the virginal lips of her young cunt, but he didn't push to make her. He led up to it slowly. He knew she was cherry and he didn't want to frighten her off before he copped it.
Craig eased his arm around her shoulder and waited for her reaction. There was none.
She smiled at him. "I like what you just did with your arm, Craig."
"You do?"
"Uh-huh. Having your arm around my shoulders makes me feel like your girl friend."
"You are my girl friend, Arab. You became my girl friend when I came home from the Army five days ago." His free hand dropped and came to a rest on her dimpled knee. "Mind?"
"No."
She shivered as Craig's hand became bolder and crept beneath the hem of her skirt. She made no attempt to stop him. His hand crawled along the inner part of her thigh and she started to breathe hard as a strange heat jumped into her cunt.
The hand crawling toward her panties was making her passionate.
Craig's hand trembled and instinct warned her that his cock was probably trembling, too.
Craig's fingers nipped at her warm flesh. Her thighs clenched for a moment, then drifted apart a little to make room for his prowling hand ... until it reached its destination.
She gasped and squirmed on the seat as Craig's middle finger flicked against her jutting clit.
"Oooh!"
Craig moved his hand away from the crotch of her panties. A second later she reached out and returned his hand to the material that covered her crotch. Her maidenhead sat waiting for his cock to come and take it away.
"Don't stop now, big brother," she whispered raggedly. "I like what you're doing to me between my legs. Your hand is making me feel creamy all over."
"Let's see how this makes you feel, little sister."
She gasped again as his fingers tickled the tense lips of her cunt. She was getting ready to climb the nearest wall when a wino staggered down the aisle and sat down beside them. Craig jerked his hand away from her burning twat and mumbled something about waiting for the jug bug to zonk out, but the man started sucking on the wine he had brought with him.
She couldn't wait. She didn't want to wait. Her cunt was on fire.
"Forget about that damn drunk." she whispered as she found big brother's hand and shoved it between her yawning thighs. "Do your thing. Touch my hot pussy some more."
"Not here, Arab. We picked a bad spot to sit. Somebody else might walk past and see what we're doing. Let's move down a few rows and then I'll play with your sweet cunt some more."
They groped their way forward and found seclusion near the wall. She wriggled her shapely ass into the seat and made her brother chuckle at the deliberate way she permitted the skirt to climb high on her smooth thighs.
"You might be inexperienced but it's obvious that you're more than willing to have me finger-fuck you some more." His voice turned sly. "Maybe you're even willing to let me teach you all I know about sex, eh?"
Craig's hand found its way between her legs once more. He caressed the crotch of her panties and commented about the moisture he found there.
She laughed. "I'm so hot I could scream."
"You really enjoy having your cunt played with, don't you?"
"Do I ever! I even like to play with it myself. I love the way it makes me feel mushy all over."
Craig nudged the wet panties to one side and tweaked her jutting clitoris.
She stiffened in her seat. "Damn, damn, that feels so beautiful!"
Craig's fingers continued to toy with her clit. "Has anyone else ever played with your juicy cunt, Arab?"
"Only old Nick Zorba."
"Who the hell is Nick Zorba?"
"One of my teachers."
"He played with your cunt?"
She nodded, giggled. "That old Greek sweats like crazy whenever I let him put his hand on my pussy. He says it makes his tongue hard."
"What else does he do to you, Arab?"
"Mostly he just puts his hand between my legs and tickles me with his fingers."
"Just his fingers?"
"Just his fingers."
"What else does he do?"
"Oh, sometimes he fools with my titties."
"Through your clothing?"
"No way, big brother. Old Zorba likes to remove my blouse and bra to do his thing."
"I see. Has he ever touched you in any other way?"
"No. Only with his hands and his mouth. He wanted to do something else once. He even tried."
"What?"
"Zorba tried to stick his thing in my rear."
Craig was flabbergasted. "He tried to shove his cock up your ass?"
"Damn sure did."
"And you were going to let him fuck you in the ass?"
"Yes, but we never got the chance to go through with it. Zorba was rubbing my asshole with vaseline when another teacher almost caught us. After that we were too scared to try it again, so all we did from then on was feel each other. Zorba would play with me, I would play with him."
"Do you still play with him?"
"Damn sure do."
"How?"
"Like this, big brother," she said. Her hand gave his hard cock a quick hug. "Only when I do it, he usually has it out of his pants, and it's usually all sticky from the fluid that's running out of it."
Craig shivered. "I know the feeling, Arab. I'm oozing myself. I'm also full of pain in the old balls and desperately in need of a massage, or something. Unzip my fly, little sister. Then take my cock in your hand and show me how you play with old Nick Zorba."
She opened Craig's pants and gripped his rock-hard cock. Her eager fingers tensed around the pulsating love muscle, then gave it a few quick jerks. Craig quivered with delight and caressed her budding breasts in a kneading manner. Her breathing turned ragged. He proceeded to loosen the buttons and get at her twin mounds of flesh.
She kept stroking his magnificent cock.
Craig's fingers clawed at the blouse buttons. His face glistened with sweat. He was hot to trot. So was she. The blouse gapped. She laughed. "I'm glad there aren't a lot of people on this side of the theater, big brother. I'm not used to showing my titties in front of a crowd."
"Same goes for putting my cock on exhibition."
"Do you like what I'm doing to your peter, Craig?"
"Damn right! Your fingers feel good, Arab, but I'll bet your mouth would feel a lot better."
She faked astonishment. "You want me to take your big peter in my mouth?"
"That's what I want, little sister."
"Wouldn't that be wicked, Craig?"
Craig shook his head. "Nothing is wicked if you enjoy doing it, Arab. Sucking a cock is one of the nicer things a girl can do for someone she likes. Hell, you might even get hooked on the taste of come and become a semen addict. How about it, little sister? Will you suck my cock?"
"You know I always do whatever you want, Craig. Do you want me to suck you off now?"
He grinned. "Later. Let's play a bit more."
"All right, big brother."
Her hand continued to stroke his rock-hard cock while her fingers tickled his balls. Her jerking motions made Craig stiffen in his seat.
"Don't make me pop, Arab. I want to save my cock juice for your mouth, your ass ... and your sweet young cunt."
She managed to keep a straight face. "What makes you think I'm willing to go three ways?"
"You're here, aren't you?"
She giggled and tightened her grip on his cock.
Craig's glance dropped as the blouse gapped to reveal her half bra. Her breasts were no larger than a pair of tennis balls, but the way he drooled over them told her that he thought them to be the most perfect tits in the world.
Drooling wasn't the only Craig did. He leaned toward her budding breasts and kissed their peaks through the half bra. She shivered and instinctively tightened her fingers around his throbbing and slimy cock.
He stopped kissing her breasts. "Want me to stop, little sister?"
"Do that and I'll never speak to you again."
He kept teasing. "Suppose someone catches us?"
"Who gives a damn? I don't."
He became serious. "I'm glad you aren't afraid, Arab. I like a girl with guts."
She was flattered. "And I like a man with a big cock."
"Is mine big enough to suit you?"
"You've got to be kidding. I'm almost afraid to hold it."
"Will you be afraid to suck it?"
"No way."
"Or take it up your ass?"
"I don't think so." She watched him, pursed her lips. "Will it hurt very much when you stick it in my rear?"
"No."
"Then I won't chicken out on you."
"And your cunt�will you be all guts when I stuff my prick in there and pluck your cherry?"
"No problem there, big brother. I'm looking forward to the plucking. Really and truly I am."
"So am I."
"When?"
"Not now, and not here."
"Ah, shit."
He tugged the half bra downward and tumbled her tits into nakedness. He glanced around the theater to make sure they were unobserved, then lowered his hungry lips to the peaks of her breasts. He sucked. First one. Then the other. She moaned loudly and her hips jerked as passion gripped her cunt in a maddening embrace.
She tightened her grip on his cock. "Stop molesting my titties with your lips and do something, big brother. Do something�do anything! Please help me! My pussy is itching like crazy!"
Craig's mouth left her breasts. He slipped both hands between her quivering thighs and attempted to force a finger in her cunt. It wouldn't go. Her maidenhead blocked the entrance. Craig did the next best thing�he pillowed his wet face between her hot thighs and shocked her jutting clit with the tip of his tongue.
She whimpered.
Craig trapped her clit between his lips. He sucked and raked it with his teeth. Her hips went into a frenzy and she made small animal sounds deep in her throat. Eruption threatened. Getting caught by someone no longer bothered her. She didn't give a damn about anything except the pleasure she was receiving from her brother's lips and teeth as he sucked and gnawed her toward climax.
She writhed. "Oh, Craig, my cunt is going off. Don't stop! Keep sucking and chewing on my clit! Sweet mother, you're going to make me cream all over this damn seat!"
Craig wasn't interested in having her come over the seat. He released her clit and mashed his mouth against the virginal lips of her cunt. He gave it a violent soul kiss. A moment later cunt juice flowed from her pussy and drenched his waiting tongue. He lapped her cunt and ate her honey. He finally lifted his head from between her thighs and sat up beside her.
She exhaled loudly. "Oh, Craig, what you just finished doing to my cunt with your tongue and mouth was out of this world!"
He licked his lips, grinned. "I sort of enjoyed it myself, little sister. I like to eat cunt. I always did."
"Will you eat mine again?" "Try and keep my tongue away from it. We'll do a lot of different things together, Arab ... even if it takes forever."
She rubbed her naked breasts against his arm. "You do say the sweetest things."
"Sweeter than Nick Zorba says them to you?"
"Much sweeter, big brother. Zorba doesn't even know I exist outside the classroom. He's too busy panting after that rich Kevin Foxhill's mother, hoping she'll get weak and let him marry her for her money. He's also too afraid of getting caught with me. You're different. You aren't afraid to risk your ass by doing an incest number on me."
Craig lifted his hands to her naked breasts. "Only a blind or stupid man would miss seeing you, little sister, and I'm neither. I noticed you the moment you stepped forward to welcome me at the airport. One look at those budding boobs of yours and I'd had it. If you had met me alone I would have tried to fuck you on the way back to Harbor City." He grimaced. "Talk about a sudden case of hot nuts. And these past few days and nights! Damn, all I kept seeing before my eyes were those hard little tits of yours. Seeing and wishing our folks would stop doing the welcome home bit on me so I could get at them. I was beginning to think I never would get you alone. At home I wouldn't. This is why I asked you to meet me here today."
"Craig."
"What?"
"Let's drive out to Mom and Dad's hideaway cottage on Crab Key and spend the afternoon there."
"We can't. Not yet anyhow."
"Why not?"
He grinned. "Because of my cock. It's so hard I could pound nails with it. If you don't do something to soften it, a few of the yo-yos in here might notice us when we walk out."
Her eyes found his. "Tell me what to do about getting your cock soft."
"You know what I want, Arab."
"Tell me."
"I want you to take my dick in your mouth and suck the juice out of it."
She cocked her head, a mysterious smile on her sensual lips. "I don't know, Craig. Your cock is so huge and my mouth is so small�do you think I can handle it?"
"No problem. Just yawn like mad and take the knob of it inside your mouth. After that you'll be able to handle the rest of my prick. Once you get it in your mouth, all you have to do is run your tongue around the knob, then bob your head over it. Follow?"
She nodded. "Follow. What else?"
His eyes glittered. "Keep your lips tight and suck like hell while you massage the old root. Nothing to going down on a man, really. Go ahead, little sister. Take my cock between your hot lips and drain the juice from it."
There was no hesitation on her part. She took his erection in her warm and eager hand and dipped her face toward it. She kissed his cockhead. A heartbeat later, her small red mouth formed into a perfect red oval and the knob of his penis vanished. She hesitated for a moment. Then she shocked the knob with her eager tongue. His was the first cock she had ever attempted to suck, but instinct took over and momentarily she was treating him to a blow job they would both remember for a long, long time.
"Now you're cooking with gas," Craig croaked. "That's the girl. Eat me, eat me!"
She closed her eyes and palmed Craig's sweaty scrotum. She mashed her naked breasts against his right thigh and worked to make him pop his nuts. Her neck craned and the entire length of his impressive prick found its way down into the depths of her throat. There was a sudden tickling sensation that produced nausea, but a moment later the feeling passed as his big balls came into contact with her chin.
Craig panted. "Keep sucking, Arab, keep sucking!"
She toyed with his nuts and proceeded to suck and gnaw him toward an explosive climax. She kept blowing. She moved her head up and down, her hot lips tense as she permitted his pulsating cock to slither in and out of her working mouth. Presently Craig's jerking body warned her that soon he would detonate and flood her mouth with his jism.
"Good kid," he said approvingly. "Keep blowing. I'm almost ready to come! Good kid, good kid ... "
Craig's cock was slippery with his semen and her saliva. She made loud smacking sounds as it slithered between her tight red lips. She increased the pressure of her breasts against his thigh. He caught her head in his hands and crammed his cock inside her mouth; the tip of if shot down her throat. A heartbeat later he made his point. She shuddered as his cock juice gushed forth to fill her mouth, and then she stopped trembling and gulped every delicious drop of his fluid ...
She finally permitted his softening prick to slip from between her lips. Craig pushed his sweaty scrotum against her mouth. She kissed his balls. Then her wet pink tongue flicked out to lick the sweat and the stray droplets.
"Cock juice tastes good," she purred. "But did I satisfy you, big brother?"
"For a beginner, you treated me to the best blow job I've had in a long time."
She clutched his sagging cock and nuzzled it against her cheek. "Would you like another one?"
"Later," Craig replied as he helped her to a sitting position and then holstered his wilted cock. "It's getting late, little sister. I don't think we'll have time for a trip to Crab Key, but my car is parked in the alley and I think we can do something about removing that cherry of yours."
"I'm with you, big brother."
He laughed softly. "Button your blouse over those cute little tits of yours and let's get the hell out of here."
She tugged the half bra into place over her budding breasts and buttoned her blouse. Then she dropped her hand to his covered cock. "I'm willing to risk it and let you throw a fuck into me right where you're sitting, big brother."
Craig laughed. "You're crazy."
"I'm crazy as crazy can be," she said as she stood up and led the way out of the theater. "Cock-crazy."
They stepped out of the popcorn palace. They quickly stepped into the nearby alley where Craig's car was parked.
The alley was graveyard silent. She climbed into the rear of Craig's battered Nash station wagon, her mind whirling, her pussy aching with eagerness to feel her brother's juicy cock.
Craig didn't waste time once he joined her in the station wagon. He quickly proceeded to undress her. The blouse went first. Then her skirt. When she was down to her bra and panties, he sat down beside her and made himself naked.
Her eyes widened as she got her first close look at his cock. Craig was hung like a prize bull. She suppressed a giggle. No damn wonder she'd had to stretch her jaws so much to get this big beauty in her mouth.
"Are you ready to have your cherry plucked, little sister?"
She trapped his stiff cock in her hand. She teased it with her fingers. "I'm ready, but I don't know about taking his big hard muscle of yours between my legs, Craig. I'm so tight you couldn't even tuck your finger between the lips of my pussy when we were fooling around inside the movie house, remember?"
"Cocks are different than fingers, Arab. Mine will fit inside your hot little box. You'll see. I'll work it in real gentle and make it fit."
"I hope it doesn't hurt too much."
"It won't," he promised. "There will be a little discomfort, but not a hell of a lot. I'll take my time. I'll work it in an inch at a time. No sweat."
She gave his cock a quick squeeze. "No sweat it is, big brother. I trust you." "Prove it."
"By doing what?"
"By kissing my cock."
Her lips touched the knob of his cock. She kissed it tenderly. Then her tongue came out to lick the moisture clinging to his spade-shaped knob. Her lips stretched in a circle. She was about to take his prick in her mouth once more when he quickly lifted her head away.
"No blow job, little sister. Not now. This time I want to fuck you into a come you'll never forget."
"Do it, Craig."
Craig bared her hard little breasts. She stretched out on her back and permitted him to remove her panties. Then she spread her legs and he crawled in between them. She grasped his throbbing cock and guided it against her clitoris. She moaned with delight and her tiny nipples burgeoned as the velvety knob shocked her clit and filled her cunt with flaming eagerness.
"Now, big brother, now."
"Move the head of my cock into position."
She slid his cockhead from her clit and touched it to the virginal lips of her melting cunt.
"Now you can fuck me, Craig. Do it. Bury your big juicy cock inside my tight little pussy and turn me into a real woman! Fuck me, big brother, fuck me!"
She elevated her buttocks and coiled her legs around his hips. He hunched forward and she gritted her teeth as the blunt tip of his prick bulled its way into her moist cavern. A few inches of his cock dug into her cunt and popped her cherry, but a moment later a moan of pain turned into a loud grunt of pleasure as he crammed it all the way home and brought his balls to rest against her ass.
Craig looked down at her. "Are you all right, little sister?"
"Yes, oh, yes! Your long fat cock feels wonderful inside my pussy. Just don't let it soak too long. Work it, big brother! Fuck me fast, fuck me hard! Cream me, cream me!"
Craig pumped away and zeroes in on her heaving breasts with his hungry mouth. He caught a tiny pink nipple between his lips and proceeded to suck on it. Having her nipples teethed while he poured the prick to her cunt increased the speed of her grinding hips.
"Something wild and wonderful is happening to me," she shrieked as his worming cock rocketed her skyward. "My pussy is bubbling like a volcano. I'm going to cream! Make it happen, Craig! Give me a come! Now, big brother, now!"
A moment later it happened.
Craig buried his big bone deep in her cunt and matched her climax with a violent eruption of his own. Their bodies fused, their juices mingled, and then relief brought them to a complete standstill.
"Damn, damn, that was beautiful," she said breathlessly as she felt his softening cock withdraw from her tingling cunt. "So was your explosion. I can feel your juice oozing out of me and running into the crack of my ass." Craig crawled out from between her relaxed legs.
She sat up beside Craig, took his limp cock in her hand and attempted to stroke it into firmness once more. She was succeeding nicely when, suddenly, the rear passenger side door flew open and an angry voice snarled, "Goddamn it, boy, if you had to slap the meat to your baby sister, the least you could have done was picked a better place to do it!"
She paled and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her father's voice. Craig jumped, too, but in a different way. He made a mad scramble for his clothing and attempted to escape from the station wagon by bailing out the other side. He was fast, but not fast enough, and momentarily their father was beating the living hell out of him.
Her punishment had come later, after they reached home. That was when Dad had produced and given her naked ass her first taste of a cypress paddle that would eventually become a part of her legacy after his death ...
Arab dismissed the past from her mind with a brief shrug and concentrated on her future. Her future. And her son's.
Arab finished her bath and stood up in the tub. She glanced down at her breasts. She put a hand under each. She stopped fondling her tits and dropped a hand to tweak her jutting clitoris. She shivered and silently wished for someone like Brand to come to her with a fierce hard-on, or sink to his knees and put the tongue to her cunt.
Arab stepped out of the tub. She admired her reflection in the door mirror. She was pleased with what she saw there.
Arab toweled herself dry and returned to her bedroom to dress. Twenty minutes later she was neatly groomed, ready to do battle in the business world.
Disappointment crawled over her face when she entered the kitchen and found the breakfast nook occupied by Mrs. Grabowski.
She sat down opposite the amazingly big-breasted Mrs. Grabowski, asked, "Has Brand been in for breakfast yet?"
Mrs. Grabowski poured coffee. "The boy did not even take time for a piece of toast, Mrs. Foxhill. Something important to do in town, he said. He drove off down the beach road like a bat out of hell."
Mrs. Grabowski was annoyed. The mountainous cook-servant always seemed to be annoyed where Brand was concerned. Arab said quietly, "Ever since Brand was a baby you and he have been thick as thieves, Mrs. Grabowski. Now you seem to almost despise him. Why?"
Mrs. Grabowski took a deep breath. "I do not hate the boy, Mrs. Foxhill. It hurts me to see you hurt him, but I do not hate Brandon." A sad look came into her eyes. "I worry about him, too. He does not eat good, and he is restless. Like he is trying to run away from something, or someone. Not good, Mrs. Foxhill. Not good at all."
Arab went out to poolside where she found Lil Wheat munching on a piece of dry toast and frowning over some office papers.
Lil stood up and said disgustedly, "Mitch Crocker padded his expense account again, hon. Two hundred dollars this time. How much longer are you going to let him keep fucking you in the bank book?"
"Make this the last time," Arab said as they walked toward their cars. "Enough is enough."
"Do you want me to can his cheating ass?"
Arab shook her head. "Mitch Crocker might be a thief but he's also a damn good spoke in the Foxhill wheel, love. Keep him on payroll. If push comes to shove, we can always transfer him to the Canadian boonies." She paused for a moment. "Also, break loose from the office as soon as you can today and see what you can do about locating Brand."
"Will do, hon. Any messages for our wandering boy?"
"Tell him he's expected home for dinner."
They reached their cars. Matched Lincoln Continentals. Arab opened the door of hers and slid into the driver's seat. Lil walked around to the other side and climbed in beside her. Arab knew why. The beautiful strawberry blonde wanted a kiss for the road.
"You are an insatiable piece of baggage," Arab murmured as she moved into Lil Wheat's waiting arms and kissed her.
The kiss was beautiful. Lil's lips were warm. They kissed, their tongues met and dueled in sweet delight. Lil's hands crept up to find Arab's rising and falling breasts and gently knead them. Nipples awakened, stiffened, tingled. Arab's cunt turned hot and started to juice. Lil's expert hands moved over her breasts, and within seconds Arab's torrid and vibrant body was rocking with passion ...
Arab broke free. "You've never done this particular number on me before, love. Why this morning?"
"To distract," Lil replied bluntly. "To keep you from brooding over what Mrs. Grabowski told you about Brand seemingly running from something ... or someone."
"You succeeded. The funk is gone."
"For how long, hon?"
Arab shrugged. "That's a toughie to answer, love. You know me."
"Like a book."
A sad look came into Arab's eyes. "I can't help it, love. You know how I am where Brand is concerned."
"I know, hon. Just try not to backslide."
"I'll try," Arab promised.
"That's my girl." Lil brushed her full red lips against Arab's and gave her left breast a quick but firm hug. "Don't worry about our voiceless tiger. I'll see to it that nothing happens to him."
"Thanks, love."
"Don't mention it." Lil climbed out of the Mark IV, then poked her head back inside. "If you have to brood over something, think about easing up on our boy with the do-as-I-command bit and the cypress paddle. Slavery isn't the answer. Love is a lot of things, but love isn't ownership."
"I know what you're trying to tell me, love," Arab said softly. "But you're the one who's wrong, not this person."
"Am I, hon?"
"You are. I don't want to enslave Brand. All I want is for him to learn how to stand on his own two feet."
Lil forced herself to speak quietly. "Then don't keep kicking them out from under him."
CHAPTER TWO
A smug smile curved Denise Crocker's sensual lips and her cunt twitched as she watched the young man enter the garden and conceal himself behind a clump of shrubbery. A moment later silent laughter shook her full and pointed breasts.
Brand Foxhill was right on time. Hot nuts and hot eyes always kept a man on schedule.
The blonde could almost feel Brand Foxhill's cock and balls being strangled by his Jockey shorts as he waited impatiently for her to emerge from the rented waterfront villa she shared with her father, and step into the garden to indulge herself in another session of moon bathing by peeling down to her half bra and bikini panties. She could almost hear the young man smacking his lips in anticipation while he hoped that she would go all the way this time, and show him her tits and cunt and ass.
She could read Brand like an open book. Skinning out of her gown to show him her half bra and bikini panties had been enough to turn him on the first two times, but now he wanted her to show her long-nippled breasts stark naked, to show him her tight and juicy cunt.
Seeing her tits and pussy bared to the moonlight would really make Brand's night, Denise Crocker told herself. She giggled softly. He would probably have to wring out his shorts after he finished popping his nuts.
She stood at the window and wondered idly how difficult it would be to get Brand to fuck her.
The thought of sexing it up with Brand caused more heat to jump into Denise's cunt. Strange scenes unfolded in her mind. Obscene fantasies. The sort of fantasies she always entertained during those finger-fucking sessions she always had with herself whenever Brand's mother sent Daddy out of town on business ...
One of the pictures in her mind was that of Brand trembling with sexual glee as his fingers removed her skimpy bra and bikini panties. The scanties went first. His quaking fingers gently nudged her panties down and over her swaying hips, exposing her pubic hair and hot pink clit standing at full attention.
Brand wadded the panties, tossed them aside. His fingers trembled as they unclasped her delicate half bra and brought her full breasts into view. His eyes grew large. She was standing naked before him, glowing in the moonlight.
The distant yapping of a dog cut into her thoughts. She cursed. "Tonight I'm going to find out if there's a man or a mouse behind those hungry eyes. I'll strip to the buff and show him my all."
No gown. No bra. No panties. Titties showing. Cunt exposed. Naked ...
The heat in her cunt became more intense. She turned away from the window and shook her head. It was time to get the show on the road.
She paused before the full-length wall mirror to give herself a final check. Satisfied with what she saw, she turned away from the mirror and made her way out into the garden where Brand crouched waiting.
She stepped out into the moonlight and came to a stop beside the Pissing Boy water fountain. The expensive white nightgown she wore was sheer and revealing. She knew that Brand could see the enticing outline of her long legs, her full thighs, and even the imperceptible swell hidden behind her bikini panties. Her cream-smooth shoulders were nude and the upper hemispheres of her overripe breasts shared this nudity. The deep cleft between her twin mounds of delight was shadow-filled.
She stepped away from the Pissing Boy fountain and started to do her number for the young man watching her from behind the bushes.
Her cunt juices as she went into her bizarre act of burlesque ...
She gripped the ground-length hem of her nightie. Long legs flashed in the moonlight as she slowly elevated the nightie's hemline upward. Dimpled knees appeared. Then her full marble thighs. Bikini panties came into view, then her navel and crowded half bra.
She dropped the gown to the grass and shifted slightly to treat her watcher to a full profile of her breasts. Her nipples were hidden behind the scrap of cloth that held them half-captive, and she wondered if Brand's hands were itching to claw her tits.
The thought of Brand doing a suck number on her breasts drove Denise wild. Passion kept clawing at her cunt. She gritted her teeth.
Here comes the pussy jackpot!
Denise made getting out of her panties an elaborate production. Slow motion all the way. Nylon murmured against cool flesh as she nudged the skimpy panties down over her glowing hips, her full thighs, and on down to her trim ankles. Bra-covered breasts moved away from her body as she knifed forward to follow the panties down to where she could step out of them. The scanties dropped to form a tiny puddle of cloth on the lawn.
She straightened slowly and turned so that Brand could see the triangular shadow of her cunt hairs.
She wanted to make his cock drip and give him a bad case of rock nuts.
She wanted him so hot he would have to come out from behind that damn clump of bushes to get relief from agony by soaking his cock in her cunt.
Now.
Tonight.
Flames of passion blazed hotly in her cunt as her hands moved upward, from hips to breasts, and then behind her back to unclasp the half bra. She struggled with the stubborn hooks and tried to make the Maidenform fall free, but it didn't happen. She fought the clasps for a few more miserable seconds, then gave up.
She turned toward the clump of shrubbery where her young voyeur was hiding.
"Why the hell don't you come in closer and take a real good look at my tits and pussy, Brandon?"
CHAPTER THREE
Brand popped into view and walked up to her.
"How the fuck did you know it was me doing an eyeball number on you?"
Denise laughed. Then she brought her bouncing bra-covered breasts closer. "Who else would have the balls to make like a peeping torn in an exclusive suburb of Harbor City like Beachview Shores? Nobody but a Foxhill, that's for damn sure,"
Brand restrained a smile. "I'm the only male Foxhill in these high-priced boonies, doll."
She rambled on. "Besides, Holly Amber warned me about your nocturnal habits the same day I winged in from Paris."
Holly Amber lived farther up the beach. Brand had looked in on her a couple of times, Holly said. Looked, nothing more. Holly hadn't moved Brand in Brand in the least.
"To hell with the titless wonder," Brand said harshly. "Let's get back to your knowing I was behind the shrubbery. My being there tonight isn't the first time, Denise."
"I know."
"You do?"
Denise took a deep breath that rocked her bra-covered breasts. "Unless my arithmetic is bad, which I doubt, this makes the third time you've watched me moonbathe, right?"
Brand nodded and said nothing.
Denise laughed softly. "The first night you made with the voyeur bit was really out of sight, Brand. I got so hot and bothered that afterwards I had to fall asleep with a finger in my poor little cunt." She laughed. "Shocks you, doesn't it?"
Brand made no reply.
"Well, let little Denise clue you in on something. Last night when you brought your hot eyes back for seconds, I creamed in my panties right beside the Pissing Boy fountain."
"You did?"
"I did."
"And?"
Denise's eyes dropped to the prominent bulge in Brand's pants. "And that's when I decided that if you returned to shoot some beaver again, that I would do something drastic about it."
His lips tightened slightly. "Something drastic? Like what?"
Denise smiled. "I decided I would call you out from behind the shrubbery so we could get together."
Brand's eyebrows lifted. "Get together?"
A bitchy smile came to her lips. "Oh, don't be obtuse, Brand. You know, friendly and tight." Her eyes dropped to the front of his tailored pants for the second time. "I figured it would beat getting raped."
Brand laughed. "Raping your pretty ass is exactly what I planned on doing tonight." His eyes dropped to her cunt, her navel, her breasts, then came to rest on her face again. "But I guess my doing the Ripper number won't be necessary now, will it?"
"No way, lover. I was about to shuck this damn bra when I decided to bring your ass out into the open."
"I know. I was watching and wondering why the' hell you didn't lose it."
A heavy sigh disturbed her breasts. "I couldn't lose it. The damn clasp gave me trouble. How about lending a horny hand?"
Brand lifted his slightly quaking hands and cupped her bra-covered breasts. Her nipples nuzzled against his moist palms and made her tremble with delight.
"They're beautiful."
Her voice turned teasing. "And tantalizing?"
"More than that, Denise. Yours are mind-blowing breasts."
"And speaking of blowing minds," she laughed, "if you don't take off my bra, I'm going to blow mine, so get with it, lover."
Brand kept his hands on her breasts and kneaded them through the cloth. Her hips came alive with motion. Her cunt was starting to catch on fire, and Brand continued to fan the flames by massaging her breasts.
"Damn," she panted, "I don't know how much more of your hungry hands I'll be able to stand, lover. My cunt feels like someone is using a blowtorch on it, and my nipples are tingling like crazy. I don't think I can take much more of your fingers on my titties! My bra. Take off my bra!"
Brand's strong fingers kept tweaking her nipples. Until ...
She shook her pelvic area like an exotic belly dancer and panted. "Damn you, Brand, stop trying to massage me into a juicy come and stab my cunt with your big cock. Get with it ... now!"
His hands slid around Denise's back, tugging her nearer to his prick. She felt the pressure of his erection against her stomach and the contact made her shudder. She felt a violent tremor pass through Brand's body as his mouth mashed against hers, and gut instinct warned her that he was as hot as she would ever be able to get him.
Brand returned his hands to her tumultuous breasts. He hugged her tits with his fingers, and she wondered if his mind was on his mother and what the domineering bitch would think if she could see her baby standing on the threshold of manhood.
"The bra, Brand. Stop exercising your fingers on my tits and remove my bra. Now, damn you, now!"
Brand bared his teeth as he continued to milk her nipples. "Hang loose, pretty bird."
"Hang loose?" she echoed. "You've got to be kidding. I'm so goddamned hot I feel as though someone just shoved a lighted candle up my cunt." She laughed. "I don't like lighted candles inside my cunt, which is a polite way of asking you to get with it, or so help me I'll turn the tables and rape you."
He chuckled. "You'd be raping a virgin."
"You wouldn't be my first one."
Brand groped for the bra clasp. The damned thing wouldn't unsnap. He fumbled with it. Then he did it the easy way. He gave the stubborn bra a fierce yank; it worked. The gauzy material ripped free and Denise's breasts quivered into nakedness, coral nipples jutting. A moment later she moaned as Brand's lips found the nearest one ...
They melted toward the lawn. Denise's firm breasts rose and fell in a fast rhythm. Her slender hips moved faster. She became oblivious to his pressing weight until he rolled free to kneel beside her, and then she glared at him over the trembling peaks of her breasts.
"Make like a brute, lover. Now, damn you all to hell, now! Drag that big cock of yours out of your pants and fuck the juice out of my cunt! Do it, Brand! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Brand licked his lips. His face dropped to her breasts again. His hungry lips did battle with her nipples. First one and then the other. Then he lifted his head again and looked down at her. Denise knew that the time was ripe.
Her cunt was on fire.
She needed a cock.
She scissored her legs to invite his cock into her tormented cunt.
"Fuck me, Brand, fuck me!"
She paused.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" She flicked a finger against his erection. "Bury this big bone deep in my cunt!"
Brand winced. She jerked her hand away from his cock and said, "What, lover?"
"My cock."
"Come on, I couldn't have hurt it as badly as you look."
Brand shook his head, croaked, "Not your fault, Denise."
"What isn't my fault?"
Embarrassment mixed with frustration crawled across his face. "What's happening to me. I've gone through this shit before with other girls. All desire is going down the tubes. The simple touch of your hand on my cock shifted my attention to my mother, and thinking about her castrates me every time."
"Tell the old bitch to go away, Brand."
"I am telling her."
Denise reached out and touched his cock. It was soft.
Brand said miserably, "It's no use, Denise. Mother won't go away ... "
Denise felt him slipping away from her. This she didn't want. Not while her cunt was still on fire. "Ginger Green and a few other chicks warned me you had the annoying habit of quitting short of the finish line." She paused, shook her head. "I don't read you, Brand. You make like a midnight cowboy, but only up to a certain point. What's with you anyhow? What makes you freeze?"
Brand swallowed hard. "I�"
Denise cut him short. "You're a fucking enigma, and I dislike enigmas." She shook her head again. "What's the real reason behind your problem, Brand? Gripes, don't tell me you're queer."
"Nobody kicks this man in the nuts with insinuations and gets away with it," Brand snarled as he pinned her shoulder blades to the grass and pried her legs apart. "Freak, am I? Damn your hot cunt I'll show you who's a queer!"
Amusement edged her voice. "You won't be able to show me anything without a stiff cock, stud."
His slumbering cock awakened and hardened against his thigh. He ran down his fly zipper and hauled out nine inches of meat that brought a gasp from Denise.
"Jeepers," Denise said sharply. "Talk about someone being hung like a prize stallion!" She reached out and wrapped a handful of fingers around his rock-hard cock. "Damn, is this kid ever going to go bananas when you ram this big rascal into her cunt!"
Brand jerked his cock free of her hand and smiled grimly. He shook his head at her. "I'm not feeding my cock to your cunt, baby. Not yet. Not until after I prove to you that I'm not some sort of freak. I ought to beat the shit out of you, but dumping girls isn't my bag, so I'll have to take care of you in another way. There's one game I know how to play like a pro, thanks to my mother."
"Then go home and play it with her, you bastard."
"Not a chance."
He dropped near the Pissing Boy fountain and attempted to drape her sunnyside up across his thighs. His rock-hard cock made contact with the side of her face as she fought to escape the hold he had on her.
"Turn me loose, you prick!"
"No way."
"I'll scream for Daddy."
"Your father isn't home tonight, Denise. I made damn sure of that before I came here tonight, so scream and be damned."
Brand's thighs scorched her naked breasts and a few seconds later she found herself pinned into place. He dropped to a sitting position on the garden floor and proceeded to feel her ass.
Denise suddenly understood what Brand planned to do to her. She paled. She squirmed like a worm. "You'd better think twice before you lay those hands on my ass, you dirty sonofabitch!"
"The time for thinking is past," Brand growled. "You were a bad girl, and now you must be punished."
Denise's anger flared. "Turn me loose, prick!"
"No way. Not until after I punish you."
Denise swallowed hard.
"Don't hurt me, big stud. Make me eat you off or jerk you off, but please don't hurt me. I couldn't stand that!"
Denise believed there was no mercy left in him. She had challenged his masculinity by calling him a fag, and now he was determined to show her in his own screwy way that he was a man.
"Spanking my ass won't make me think of you as a man," she hissed at him. "Until you fuck me I'll always think of you as a damn fairy."
"Shut up."
"Fairy, fairy."
Brand raised his right arm over her tense ass, but before he could apply the first blow, she fisted his stiff cock. She pumped his prick vigorously a few times. "If you want to make me scream while you get your rocks off, do it with this big fuck stick of yours, Brand."
She heard him grunt as her fingernails bit into the flesh of his prick. His open hand dropped to crack and sting the pale cheeks of her beautiful ass.
"Damn you all to hell," Denise yelped as she released her grip on his cock, "that smarts!"
"I'm glad," Brand growled. "I want you to feel pain." His hand whacked her across the ass again, again, and yet again. "Queer, am I? I'll show you who's a fag, you little bitch!"
Denise howled and tried to wriggle free. His palm and fingers stung her asscheeks again. She screeched. Then she stopped writhing and went suddenly limp across his thighs. "All right, you bastard, get it out of your system. Do your kinky number. Burn my ass, burn my ass, bum my ass!"
Brand's hand stopped stinging her ass. His mood gentled as he helped her to a sitting position on his lap. "Sorry, Denise. I didn't mean to go ape and put the hurt on you."
Her eyes glowed as she ground her tingling ass over his naked cock. "I asked for it. Now I'm asking you to soothe me with your juicy cock." She wriggled off his lap and stretched out on the lawn, on her back. She yawned her legs wide and smiled at him over the peaks of her heaving breasts. Then she held out her arms. "Come to mama, big stud. Ram that big far cock of yours in my cunt and fuck me into a nice hot come."
Brand stared at the triangular patch of hair between her legs. His hand reached out to feel her cunt hairs, and then explored lower. Her pink clitoris was eraser-hard, the tight lips of her twat moist with her juices. She was ready.
Brand's exploring fingers annoyed Denise. "Damn you all to hell, Brand. Put the prick to my cunt!"
"All right, bitch," Brand growled as he fisted his stiff cock and crawled between Denise's gaping legs. "I'll pour the prick to you, but not in your hot little cunt."
Brand draped her legs over his shoulders, then aimed and touched the knob of his cock against her pouting sphincter. She tensed. "Not in the asshole, you sonofabitch! Not in the asshole!"
Something went cold in Brand. He forced the egg-sized knob of his cock beyond Denise's tight anal ring and bared his teeth. Her eyes bugged. A moment later she grunted, then hissed, "Animal. Rotten stinking fucking animal!"
Brand gripped her hips and crammed more of his cock up her ass. "Growl, bitch, growl!"
Agony traced its pattern across Denise's face. She lay like a corpse while Brand backed his angry cock out of her asshole, nearly all the way out, and then rammed into her again. This time there was a reaction. Denise grunted like a pig, then howled at the top of her lungs. "Rotten stinking fucking animal, that hurts! Take your cock out of my ass, you goddamned freak! Do you hear me, take your cock out of my ass!"
Brand silenced her with a mean look and went for broke. He rammed his cock up her ass, all the way.
"There," he said harshly, "now you've really got something to growl about, you bitch!"
Brand's huge cock filled her asshole. Pain jolted her system. Breasts heaved, stomach muscles tensed, and then she went limp with a suddenness that startled him.
"What the hell-"
Denise came to life again. She coiled her legs around his neck, shifted her hips into overdrive.
"The pain is gone, lover. Now I'm ready to do the doggie number and growl for your big bone. I'm growling now. Listen to me growl. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me with your big bone! Do it, lover, do it!"
She wasn't faking it. Not one damned bit.
Brand proceeded to fuck her eager ass.
"Ah," she whispered breathlessly as she met him thrust for thrust, "I never knew an ass-fucking could turn me on like this! Far out! I like your cock in there! I love your cock in there! So huge! So wonderful! God, I love the feel of your cock sawing in and out of my asshole! Go, lover!"
Brand gasped as he poured his cock to her asshole. "It won't be long now. A few more pumps and I'll be exploding my first load of come inside a girl's body." He laughed. "If only mother could see me now!"
Denise tightened her legs around his neck. "Don't stop stirring the batter now, big stud. It's almost time for the happening. Don't leave me hanging by the thumbs. Fuck me!"
Brand started fucking her again.
Pumping.
Back and forth, back and forth.
"Game time!" Denise yelped loudly as she tightened her legs around his sweaty neck and held his cock deep within her bowels. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
A moment later she climaxed. So did he.
Come ripped out of his cock in hot spurts and jolted him with a feeling he had never experienced before. A few seconds later he stopped whimpering. Then he dropped his sweaty face to Denise's breasts and caught a nipple between his lips. He sucked at the nipple until the final spasm passed from his cock, and his breathing slowed down to normal. Then he relaxed.
"Talk about a wild trip!" Denise hissed as she unwrapped her legs. "Cripes, once I got with it I thought sure I'd never stop coming." Admiration drenched her voice. "It was out of this world!"
Brand stopped sucking and gnawing on her nipple. He came to a kneeling position, his slowly softening cock still in her back hole. "Do you still think I'm a fruit?"
Denise shook her head. "No way, big stud. No sissy could have done that to this kid."
Brand grinned and withdrew his limber prod from her asshole, then lowered his glance to watch his seminal fluid trickle out of her onto the lawn. "I didn't know I could come so much."
Denise reached out and grasped his wilted whang. She hugged it with her fingers. "You really did squirt a lot, big stud. More than any man I ever made it with before tonight." She giggled suddenly. "I hate to think what might have happened had I taken that big load in my cunt. Cripes, imagine me giving birth to triplets."
Brand laughed. "Keep playing with my dick the way you're doing and you just might wind up with a load in your tight little pussy."
"That wouldn't make me a damn bit mad," Denise purred as she tightened her grip on his again hard prick. "I'll take your cock juice any time I can get it�any way I can get it."
"Damn," Brand laughed as she made his big cock harden, "I didn't think I'd be able to stiffen up so quickly."
"I did, lover. Leave it to Denise. She knows what to do to keep a man turned on full blast. Now maybe you'll understand why your X-rated mother sent me to Paris for a year." Her eyes studied him. "To keep me away from you."
He smiled. "I'm not surprised, Denise. Mother is always chasing some girl away from me, but she never bothers to tell me why. She treats me like a damn kid, and this I've never been able to understand. Fuck trying to understand. Fuck Mother, too. I've got my own thing to do. Starting tonight."
"Atta boy, tiger," Denise said as she brought her hand to a standstill on his stiff and throbbing prick. "And here we are, right back where we began. Your pump is primed and ready for action again." She licked her lips. "Name the game, lover."
"Let's play elevator."
She looked at him curiously. "Elevator? How the hell do you play that game?"
"It's easy. I'll pretend I'm an elevator and you go down on me."
"You want me to suck your cock?"
"That's what I want."
Denise shook her head. "You might not buy this as gospel but I knew you were going to put the bum on me for a blow job, Brand. It's a pattern all you men seem to follow. You fight like mad to take off a girl's panties and then you shove your cock up her ass. Afterwards you get the poor girl to prime your pump again, and then you ask her to suck you off." She made a sour face. "I wonder whatever happened to plain old-fashioned fucking?"
Brand grinned. "I'd rather get a blow job and save the missionary number for another time,"
She watched him closely. "Have you ever had a blow job, Brand?"
"No, but I once saw Mother do that to my late father." His voice suddenly trailed off.
Denise caught his tumescent cock in her hand. "Don't go off on another brooding trip, lover. I didn't say I wouldn't play a tune on your skin flute, only it isn't going to be easy to do it in your present position."
"Do you want me to stand up?"
She smiled. "I have a better idea. Why don't you make like a rug and let me take care of the rest?"
Brand eased her hands away from his cock and stretched out on his back, his dick pointing skyward.
"Ready, elevator?" she asked teasingly.
"All aboard, passenger."
Denise scooted into position beside him and crooked a finger around the base of his palpitating prick. The fingers of her other hand toyed with his sweaty balls and made him shudder with pleasure. She watched his eyes grow large. Then she heard him gasp as she swallowed the velvety knob of his cock.
A series of muscular spasms racked his body as she raked the underside of his cockhead with the pointed tip of her hot tongue, and then she heard him croak.
"Damn, damn, that really rips me up!"
Denise made a mumbling sound around the fat cockhead to let him know that she had heard him. Then she palmed his big balls and attempted to do a deep-throat number of him.
She tried. And succeeded.
She heard Brand grind his teeth together to keep from having a premature ejaculation. She took the entire length of his cock inside her mouth and down into her throat.
"Damn, not even my mother knew how to take my father the way you just took me."
Denise got with it. Tongue and teeth and lips went into action, her head proceeded to bob over the tasty cock that filled her mouth, and in a few tortured seconds it was all over but the gushing.
Passion sauce poured out of Brand's cock and hit against the back of her throat, filling her mouth to the point of overflowing and dribbling down her chin. She made a small gagging sound.
"Don't spit it out, babe, don't spit it out!"
Spit it out? Brand had to be kidding.
She stopped gagging and started swallowing.
She made loud gulping sounds in the thick and sudden silence. Hungry sounds. Happy sounds.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
Brand finished creaming his cock and relaxed. Denise permitted his already sagging flesh to slither out of her mouth. "I think you drowned my tonsils with that big load, lover."
"You're a sloppy eater."
"Oh?"
"You missed a drop."
"Where?"
"The left corner of your mouth."
Denise's blushing pink tongue raced around her lips to devour the stray droplet of come. She made a loud smacking sound with her lips.
Obscene. She was being deliberately obscene. She was also insatiable.
She smacked her lips again as she touched Brand's sagging shaft. "I wouldn't get pissed off if you fed me another snack from this big sex machine of yours, lover. The pure protein will raise hell with my diet, but who gives a shit? How about it, stud? Do you want me to do another suck number on your juicy cock?"
Brand sat up and shook his head. "I think you'd better raincheck me, Denise." He looked at his wrist watch. "I didn't realize it was so damn late. I'd better haul ass before Mother comes unglued and sends Lil Wheat out to do a bloodhound number on me."
Denise reluctantly released her hold on his soggy cock and scrambled to her feet. She located her bra. She stuffed her heavy breasts into the cloth. Her voice turned teasing. "Ah, yes, I heard about the bloodhound bit your mother's major domo pulled on you the night you celebrated your eighteenth birthday by getting stoned in a waterfront bar."
His smile turned acid. "Lil only found me. No sermons from her. But Mother was something else."
"Did she dig out the old cypress paddle and lay the lumber to your ass?"
His face turned red, he shook his head. "Lil Wheat and Mrs. Grabowski talked her into letting me slide by without that because it was my birthday, so she grounded me for a week instead."
"That's still pretty harsh treatment."
"Mother's a pretty harsh person."
"You're telling me? I ended up doing a year in Paris right after she caught me walking along the beach with you." She tugged the panties into place over her slender hips, adjusted the crotch. "I wonder what you mother would have done if she'd caught you coming on heavy with one of the waterfront whores that night?"
Brand forced a laugh. "Drinking never did cause me to come down with a bad case of the stupids, Denise. I know how my mother operates. I was alone when her shadow overtook me."
"All night?"
"Almost all evening. Like I said, I know how my mother operates. She always gives me two or three hours before she puts Lil Wheat on my tail, so I spent the time with Ginger Green."
"Ginger Green?" A bitchy note crept into her voice. "Going with that flame-haired cunt wasn't the smartest thing you could have done, Brand. Your own mother's key office doll. Or is Ginger now on unemployment?"
Brand chuckled. "Ginger is still on the Foxhill payroll, but only because Mother doesn't know I tried to make her."
"Tried? You mean you didn't get some of her pussy?"
"Nope." Brand holstered his limp cock and zipped his fly.
He picked up her gown and handed it to her. "I know my mother. Anything that turns me on turns her off, like real fast. If she so much as suspects anything about you and me, you won't get another free trip to Paris this time. What Mother will do is grind you under her heel."
"Grind? I thought your mother liked me?"
Brand grunted. "She does. It's just that she doesn't want you or any other girl to like me. She thinks I'm too young to leave the nest and spread my wings."
Denise looked at him curiously. "Too young? You'll soon be nineteen, lover. And she thinks that's too young? Isn't that a kick in the ass!" She shook her head. "You know, Brand, maybe your mother has a mental block and still pictures you as kindergarten bait. Wave that big cock of yours under her foggy eyes and she'll damn soon see you in a different light, believe me."
Brand became suddenly angry and growled at her, "Let's don't start any of that off the wall shit about Mother and me, Denise. She might be a bit weird and over protective where I'm concerned, but there's nothing incestuous about it, so you can put a lid on-"
"Simmer down, Brand," Denise interrupted sharply. "There's no reason for you to come unglued."
He took a deep breath, regaining his self-control. Glances locked. A look of understanding flashed between them. Quick smiles were exchanged. They were friends again.
Brand reached out to touch her bra-covered breasts. "How soon can I see you again, little wanton?"
Denise squeezed his flaccid cock. "How about tomorrow night?"
Brand continued to fondle her bra-covered breasts, frowned. "Suppose it rains?"
"Then we'll fuck and suck in the rain."
His hands dropped away from her breasts. "That sounds like a winner."
She gave his now hardening cock another squeeze, licked her lips. "Well, until tomorrow, hang loose, big stud."
"Yeah," Brand said as he backed his rock-hard cock away from her hungry hand, "you too, Denise."
Brand kissed her fleetingly on the mouth, and as he moved off into the moon and star-kissed night she called after him, "And try to sleep with both hands on top of the covers tonight, okay?"
Brand laughed and vanished from sight.
Denise took a deep breath that shook her breasts and a strange smile curved her ripe red lips as she moved toward the villa. Her thoughts remained on Brand Foxhill. She had taken his big cock in her asshole and in her mouth, but she didn't consider him a man. No way.
Maybe she could break the strange hold his mother had on the poor bastard.
Maybe nothing. She knew damn well she could rip Brand loose from his mother's cruel breast.
"I'll do it just to satisfy myself ... and get even with the high and mighty Arabella Foxhill for shipping my ass off to Paris for a year," she said with quiet vehemence. "Like maybe tomorrow night."
CHAPTER FOUR
Arab Foxhill paused for a few seconds. She heard nothing. The beach house was as quiet as a morgue. The servants and Lil Wheat were probably asleep by now.
Where the devil was Brand? The boy should have returned hours ago. She had told him to be back in time for dinner, hadn't she? A heavy sigh disturbed her breasts. Spanking his ass with the ventilated cypress paddle he both hated and feared had kept him toeing the mark until just recently; now it seemed as though she would have to housebreak him all over again.
Arab Foxhill leaned back in her swivel chair and glanced at the wall clock. Ten minutes until midnight. She would give Brand these next ten minutes, and then she would send Lil Wheat out to bring him home for a taste of the cypress paddle.
At five minutes past midnight she saw Brand appear on the white sandy beach, approaching from the direction of Mitch Crocker's villa, and now she belatedly remembered that Mitch's not so little girl had returned from Paris a week or so ago.
A faint chill darkened her eyes as she thought about Denise Crocker. A real alley cat, that one. Greedy. Just like her father.
Had Brand gone over to see and play games with Denise Crocker?
Arab downed her drink. Then she left the huge and elegantly furnished room that served as her home office and went to greet her disobedient and long overdue son. A few angry steps later Arab found herself face to face with Brand in the king-size living room.
Arab stared at Brand. He looked like the victim of a mugging. She shook her head and sighed inwardly. The one final and irrevocable thing she had tried so desperately to prevent had finally happened ... her son had gotten his first piece of tail!
From Denise Crocker?
Arab forced herself to speak softly. "You're behind schedule, darling. Cook was disappointed when you didn't show up for the lobster she prepared in your honor. What detained you so late, darling?"
Brand tried to look innocent. "A poor abandoned puppy, Mother. Someone dropped it from their car near the Crocker place. I tried to catch it ... "
"I see." Arab's voice sharpened a little. "And did that same poor abandoned puppy put those lipstick smears all over your mouth, too?"
Brand swallowed hard. "I can explain the lipstick, Mother. It isn't what you think. I accidentally bumped into Denise Crocker during my walk along the beach and she kissed me. There's nothing to get up-tight about. Denise's kiss didn't mean anything, believe me."
Arab said acidly, "It's a nice little story, darling, but that's all it is�a story. Now tell Mother what really happened tonight."
Brand caught the warning in Mother's voice. He knew Mother was going to do another castration number on him, and ice filled his belly. He feared her.
Arab watched Brand suddenly deflate before her very eyes. This told her that although Brand had fed his cock to Denise Crocker, he as yet wasn't able to stand up to her like a man, which meant that it still wasn't too late to punish and bend him to her will again.
Arab took a deep breath. "Mother doesn't enjoy doing the wicked-witch bit, darling, but you did something this evening that merits punishment." She crossed over to the sofa and sat down among the pillows. She looked at him steadily. "Let's go over it again, darling, and this time I want the truth about what happened between you and Denise Crocker. Lie and you'll damn well regret it. Start talking."
"What's there to talk about, Mother? You already seem to know what came down between me and Denise Crocker."
Arab said icily, "I want to hear it from you. Every last dirty detail."
Brand shook his head. "It wasn't dirty, Mother."
"No more stalling. My patience is wearing pretty thin."
Brand looked at his mother as though seeing her for the first time. Mother was a beautiful creature. Mother was strong. She knew how to make others bend to her will. If they didn't bend, Mother would make them crack, crumble and then disintegrate ...
"I'm not going to repeat myself again, Brand," Arab said impatiently. "What came down between you and Denise Crocker tonight?"
"We did a sex number, Mother." There it was. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
She leaned forward on the sofa. "Sex numbers go as high as sixty-nine, young man. Which one did you and Denise choose?"
"Mother, please ... "
Arab silenced him with a glance. "I asked which number you and Denise chose to play."
"I-"
"Say it, Brand."
Brand said in a low voice, "We�I fucked her in the ass and later she gave me a blow job." His voice went suddenly hard and cold. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Mother? Ass-fucking. Blow job. Are those the words you wanted to hear, Mother? Why? So you could get turned on? Am I right, Mother, am I right?"
Arab sprang toward Brand, a perfumed bundle of fury. She stood before him, feet apart, hands on hips, breasts dancing. "How dare you talk to me like that! I'm your mother!"
Brand winced. A moment later he wilted. If only he could get over this damn fear of her! He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mother."
Fire began to blaze in her loins as she hissed, "An apology won't get it now, young man. Tune in and tune in good, Brand. This evening you managed to soak your cock in a woman for the first time in your life and it went to your head. Big deal? Wrong, baby. Losing your cherry doesn't make you a man. No way. Considering who you are and what you are, peasant girls will gladly let you plug any hole in their bodies with your cock. They'll let you knock them up, or find some other way to trick you into marrying them. This I don't want for you, Brand. Not now. Not ever!"
"What the hell do you want from me, Mother?"
Her eyes were dark with anger. "I want your solemn word that you'll never see Denise Crocker again."
Brand nodded. "All right, Mother, you win. I promise to never see Denise Crocker again."
She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "I think a taste of the paddle is in order, don't you?"
Brand paled. "No, Mother, not that. Please!"
"Don't you tell me what or what not to do, young man! You got some of Denise Crocker's ass tonight, and now I'm going to get some of yours." She pointed dramatically. "Go to your room and get out of those filthy clothes this instant. Move!"
There was no defiance left in him. "All right, Mother."
Brand was weak. The exact opposite of his late father. He tucked his tail between his legs like a whipped puppy and left the room.
Arab went to her bedroom to make herself ready for the ass-paddling she was going to give her son ...
Erotic paintings in expensive frames dotted the walls, and equally erotic statues and figurines stood or rested on marble bases. A king-size four poster dominated the center of the huge bedroom.
Needles of excitement went through Arab's Body as she lowered her shapely ass to the edge of the bed.
Arab was becoming passionate at the thought of punishing her own son.
She loosened the buttons on her blouse. The blouse yawned to expose her womanly charms. She looked down at her full and pointed breasts.
Her nipples were in full blossom and sensitive to the touch. She closed her eyes and envisioned herself whacking Brand across the ass. She trapped the right nipple between thumb and forefinger and manipulated it. Then she shifted to the other nipple.
She stopped toying with her tits and dropped a hand to the hem of her skirt. She hiked it high up on her tanned thighs until her bikini panties came into view. She went about the pleasant business of relieving the torment in her cunt ...
A few minutes later Arab reluctantly removed a slender red-tipped finger from between the wet lips of her cunt.
Arab made a sour face. She was in heat. Like a bitch dog. God, it was ages since she had felt this passionate!
Why the heat?
She didn't know, she didn't care.
The fire in her cunt subsided a little as she lowered her shapely ass to the stool before her cosmetic table. Lipstick first. Then she reached for her favorite French perfume and applied a bit of it between her breasts, and behind her ears. Touched it to the curly hairs of her cunt.
Arab smiled at her mirror twin. "You look like a high-priced whore, kid."
Her nipples stiffened again. Then she added rouge until each nipple turned pink. Finished, she cupped her breasts from underneath and lifted them. They were exquisite and worthy of being idolized.
Arab stood up and went about the task of selecting clothing suitable for this occasion. Black bikini panties and a matching net half bra, a mini-skirt with a wide leather belt. Black undies and black skirt were laid out on the bed. Next she selected a boyish cut white blouse with a deep vee neck and a collar to give her a liberated look, and black vinyl boots to further stimulate her son while she used the cypress paddle.
Maybe he would come up with a vicious hard-on. Arab desperately hoped so. She wanted Brand hard. Like a damned rock. She wanted him so hard his balls would feel as though they were locked in a vise. After the way he had fed his cock to Denise Crocker, the agony would serve him right.
Arab stepped into the black bikini panties and tugged them into place. She adjusted the crotch. She slipped the net bra around her slender waist, fastened the snaps and then twisted it around until the cups were directly beneath her breasts. She crammed, adjusted, smiled. The upper slopes of her breasts contrasted sharply with the black net bra. Again her smile broadened in appreciation of her tantalizing charms.
She shrugged into the white blouse and buttoned it into place over her breasts. Then she sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and slipped into her boots. The skirt was last. Another look in the mirror. A satisfied nod. Now she was ready.
A smile curved her lips as her thoughts went back to the last time she had been abused and seduced by her late husband. It had happened the night prior to his taking a fatal plane ride to Atlanta. She had costumed herself as a harem slave girl during the particular occasion. Hubby had done a rabbit number on her that night. No hickory or cypress paddle across her ass. He had simply trapped her in his arms and did his thing ...
He had shredded the transparent pants from her and then her briefs, halter and slippers. Jack the Ripper all the way. And when she was naked he dumped her on the king-size bed and buried his sweaty face between her big breasts. His granite-hard cock had palpitated against her thigh, and moments later he had moved into position and viciously rammed it between the dry lips of her cunt.
She had screamed in agony, the way she always screamed, only this time her howling had been for real, until the pain had passed, and then her hips jerked into life and went bananas.
They had slammed and smashed against each other like jungle beasts, moaning and groaning, until the moans and groans became shrieks of agony and ecstasy. It was insanity at breakneck speed, and yet it ended abruptly with the savage and mind-blowing detonation called climax ...
A timid knock sounded on the bedroom door. "Mother?"
Arab gave her shoulder length hair a final pat. "Come in, darling."
Brand entered the room and heeled the door shut behind him. He stopped, froze, stared. Seeing her costume brought him face to face with the cold fact that mother was not about to forgive and forget. He shook his head. "Mother, I don't want to be punished.
A contemptuous smile twisted her lips as she looked at her son.
Pliable. The boy was pliable.
And gutless. Not strong like his late father. Weak ...
Arab whirled toward the dresser to get the cypress paddle. His cowardice both disgusted and angered her. Severe discipline was the only medication she could offer as a possible cure for his malady. But she would have to administer treatment with extreme caution, otherwise his capacity for loving her might be crippled, and this she didn't want.
Arab gave Brand an over-the-shoulder glance. He was about to suffer at her hands for using his cock on Denise Crocker.
Arab opened the top drawer. The cypress paddle found its way into her hand. She examined it for a moment. The cypress paddle was two and a half feet long and three inches wide, with Swiss cheese holes drilled into the hard wood. This was the weapon Brand dreaded so much, and yet this was the same weapon he would meekly permit her to use on his ass.
Arab wagged the paddle at him. "Different strokes for different folks, darling. Take off your clothes."
"Mother ... "
"Obey," Arab snapped. "Now!"
Brand began to shake. He knew that begging was out of the question. At this stage he realized that her mind was closed to everything.
Brand stared at the shiny cypress paddle in her hand. Then he looked at her. Their glances met. A few moments later Brand wilted in the usual predictable way. He loosened his belt, ran down his fly zipper and removed his slacks.
He stepped clear of his slacks and toed them halfway across the room. He slipped out of his polo shirt and sent it flying after his pants. A tiny flicker of anger came alive inside of him as he removed his socks and shoes, then straightened slowly to stand before her, clad only in a pair of Jockey shorts.
The silence held.
Arab dropped her glance to the impressive bulge in the crotch of Brand's shorts and thought, Now I can understand why he left such big blotches of come stains on his bedsheets. Now I can also understand why Denise Crocker went all the way with him tonight. He's built like a real man. A damn shame he doesn't act like one whenever I put the hard lean on him.
"Take off those damn shorts!"
Brand hesitated. He locked glances with his mother. He shook his head. "No."
Arab's eyebrows arched in surprise for a moment, and then she slashed at him. "What did you say?"
Brand's gaze remained unwavering. "I said no, Mother. This mama putting her errant son to bed with an ass spanking is a bunch of shit. I'm not going to drop my shorts for you."
Arab tightened her grip on the cypress paddle. "In that case I'll have to burn your disobedient ass right through the damn things." Her voice flattened. "Come here and bend over."
Brand didn't bend, crack, crumble or disintegrate. She sensed something go cold in him. He was becoming objective, dispassionate. He was actually trying to stand up to her!
Arab tried to take the starch out of Brand's spine by saying coldly, "Your coming on strong isn't going to work, darling. I don't bluff worth a fuck, so all you're doing is prolonging the agony. I mean it, baby. One way or another, by the time you leave this room tonight, I'll have you house broken all over again."
"That's what you think, Mother."
"No, darling, that's what I know."
Brand stopped listening to her. Something primitive yet beautiful had happened to him during his wild orgy with Denise Crocker, and he had no intentions of surrendering it to his domineering mother.
Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever again.
It wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it happen. He had to be all man. And this meant that he would have to get rid of the strange shackles his mother wanted to keep him locked up in ... once and for all.
"Brand," Arab shrieked, "I'm talking to you!"
"You aren't talking, Mother�you're shouting."
"Don't sass me, young man!" Arab shrilled, breasts bucking violently. "Just shut up and get your naughty ass over here, now!"
His eyes flashed up to her. "Not a chance, Mother."
"Bend over and grab your ankles, you naughty little boy!" Arab screeched. "Now. Do you hear me, now!"
Brand watched her full and pointed breasts buck behind her boyish white blouse for a few more tense seconds. "Fuck you, Mother."
Arab's face mirrored shock. She forgot about the cypress paddle in her hand and did a wide-eyed number on Brand. Brand was coming on strong. The house cat was turning into a tiger. Was it really happening? Was she really seeing her baby become a man? Roaring mouse or roaring man? She had to be sure.
Arab tightened her grip on the cypress paddle in her hand, wagged it at Brand and said menacingly, "Game time, darling. Bend, damn you, bend!"
The corners of his mouth lifted. "Fuck you, Mother. I'm through jumping every time you snap a finger. Now I'm going to do some finger-snapping of my own. A switch, Mother. From now on you're going to be the slave and I the master."
Arab cocked her arm and prepared to whack him with the paddle. "Slave? I'll show you who's the slave in this house, you weak little bastard!"
Brand jerked the cypress paddle out of Arab's grip and shoved her away from him. Arab sprang back at him. He laughed and twisted her around so that her shapely ass turned toward him. Before she could whirl to face him again ... the cypress paddle made a whistling sound, then cracked sharply against her haunches and made her howl in agony.
Whack! Whack!
"Stop hitting me, damn you!"
Brand cracked her across the ass for the third time. Arab screeched, tensed, then whirled to face her son. A moment later she froze in shock. She saw Brand's deeply tanned and muscular body, naked except for the Jockey shorts, rippling with cat-like grace as he came toward her with a grim determination that sent chills racing up and down her spine.
"No more shackles, Mother. Not on me. Not ever again ... "
"Brand, don't!"
"Fuck you, Mother!"
"Brand!"
"Fuck you, Mother. You've had my ass a few times. Now I'm going to get some of yours."
The tips of Arab's breasts showed through the boyish white blouse as she attempted to back away from the cypress paddle. A moment later she landed on the bed in an awkward sprawl, face up. She lay motionless for a second, surprised.
Brand closed in for the kill with the cypress paddle and dusted her panties again.
Crack, crack, crack!
Arab writhed on the bed like a snake in heat. A moment later she began to make small whimpering sounds as agony changed from bitter to sweet. She was getting turned on, but she didn't know this yet. Throat muscles tightened; the whimpering sounds died.
"No more, darling, no more!"
Whack, whack, whack!
Putting the hurt on her asscheeks. Making her scream. Blinding her with pain.
Crack, crack, crack!
Driving her right up the wall of passion. Turning her on with pain.
Smack, smack, smack!
Sudden and hot flames of passion began to blaze in Arab's loins. Hot flames scorched the inner walls of her cunt and made her shriek.
"No more, Kevin, no more! One more whack over the ass and I'll go out of my bird! No more, Kevin, no more! I'm on fire! My cunt is burning up! Use your cock on my cunt! Put out my fire with your come! Hurry, hurry, hurry! Fuck me, Kevin, fuck me!"
Kevin? Brand frowned. Kevin was the name of his late father.
He looked at his mother curiously. Why was she calling him Kevin? It didn't make sense. At the moment nothing did. Fuck it. Let Mother call him anything she damn well pleased.
"Hose me, Kevin, hose me! Put out my fire with your come! Now, you sonofabitch, now!"
"Fuck you, Mother," Brand growled as he brought the cypress paddle into play once more. "You don't tell me what to do any more. I'll put out your fire when I get damn good and ready to put it out."
Crack!
"That hurts, that hurts!"
Smack!
"Bastard! Rotten stinking bastard!"
Whack!
The cypress paddle in Brand's hand kept striking, hurting. It didn't bug Arab. Not anymore. Misery was gone. Now the agony had turned into ecstasy, and now she wanted more of the wood. Kevin was forgotten. She knew Brand was dusting her panties, and she let him know that she knew, She chanted his name and begged unashamedly for him to keep hitting her across the ass, for at this point she was on the brink of eruption ...
The cypress paddle stopped stinging her asscheeks with a suddenness that startled her. Arab rolled over on her back and stared wide-eyed at Brand. She watched him fling the paddle against the wall and skin out of his Jockey shorts. A moment later his long fat cock sprang into view and pointed toward her.
Brand stepped toward her, his hard cock swaying.
"No, Brand, no! I'm not Denise Crocker or some other cheap whore�I'm your mother!"
Brand wanted to put the cock to her. He damn well intended to put the cock to her. Not later. Now.
"No, Brand, no! I'm your mother!"
Brand glared down at Arab for a few seconds. Then he fisted her shoulder length hair and forced her out of the rumpled bed. He released his grip on her hair and hugged her to his body. Arab winced. His arms were like steel bands. She felt his rock-hard cock against her gently rounded stomach. She struggled to break free of his savage embrace. The steel bands tightened around her. She couldn't escape!
"Damn you, Mother, stop fighting me!" Brand croaked as his cock wormed its way between her thighs. "It won't do you a fucking bit of good to struggle. No way. With or without your permission ... tonight I'm going to slap the prick to you."
Arab squirmed free of his embrace and shoved him away from her. She made a mad scramble for the cypress paddle. He reached and missed, Arab didn't.
The cypress paddle filled her hand. She was pissed. Really pissed. Mother's arm turned into a blur and cypress crashed into his hip. The force of the blow knocked Brand on his ass.
"All right, darling," Arab screeched, "let's find out how tough you really are!"
The cypress paddle met skull and dazed Brand. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain and staggered to his feet. The room kept spinning. Mother came toward him, breasts bouncing, nipples showing through the white blouse. She was determined to castrate him all the way, for good. It wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it happen, No way.
"This is a brand new ball game, darling," Arab hissed as she kept advancing. "And here is where I knock your big balls right out of the park."
Brand dropped to his knees as Mother swung the cypress paddle again. He heard it whistle over his head. He gripped her booted ankles and jerked both feet but from under her.
Arab went over backwards. The cypress paddle jumped out of her hand and landed on the bed. She landed on her ass, on the floor.
"Disobedient little bastard!" Arab screamed at him. "I should have popped your skull the first time I zapped you!"
Brand slid away from her and came to his knees. Mother made a hissing sound and tried to claw his chest. Brand cursed. His open hand cracked against Mother's cheek like a pistol shot, and he saw tears of pain flood her eyes.
"Kinky sonofabitch, you hurt me!" Arab hissed through clenched teeth, and then she attempted to bite him!
Mother was in a crouching position when he tagged her a second time. A moment later she was sitting on her ass, shaking her head.
He made it to his feet on the third try, and Mother attempted to topple him. She made a grab for his balls, missed. He stopped thinking of her as a woman and did what had to be done. He fisted the front of her boyish blouse and yanked her up from the floor.
There was a ripping sound as Mother attempted to escape his grip. Buttons popped free to reveal the black net half bra and the upper hemispheres of her bucking breasts. She attempted to spin free. She twisted and the blouse slid clear of her body.
Brand tossed the material aside and whirled her around to face him. His strong fingers bit into her shoulders. She struggled for a few more seconds, and then decided to fight him on his own terms. She suddenly went limp in his arms.
Arab insinuated her body against Brand and flung her arms around his neck. Bra-covered breasts mashed against his naked chest as she strained her pelvic area to his ... and then tried to sink her teeth into his neck.
Brand dug the heels of his hands into her tits and shoved her away from himself. A moment later he froze and stared at her in shock.
Mother's face was a flushed mask of passion. "Hang in there, darling! Don't stop now! Humble me! I want you to walk over me! Do it!"
"Do what, Mother? Say it. What do you want me to do?"
"You know."
"Say it!"
"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me!"
Brand scooped her up in his arms and stretched her out on the king-size bed. He climbed in beside her and assumed a kneeling position. He snagged his fingers into the front of her black net half bra and gave it a fierce jerk; the scrap of material broke clear and her breasts quivered into nakedness, rouged nipples jutting.
"That's it, darling," Mother panted. "Treat me like the dirtiest whore in the world. Your whore. Rip me, rip me!"
She was drowning.
Drowning in her own flesh.
Arab's body quivered as Brand removed the belt from around her waist, unlocked the hip zipper on her mini-skirt and removed it. Panties next. Now, except for the black vinyl boots, she was stark naked ... and ready to receive Brand's long fat cock.
Brand took a sharp breath as he viewed his mother's curly-haired cunt at close range for the first time. Pussy lips were moist, the clitoris erect.
Brand swallowed hard. "Your cunt."
"What about my cunt, darling?"
"It's beautiful."
"And it's all yours, darling. Take it."
"Not yet, Mother. Let me play with your tits first."
"Do whatever you want with me, darling."
Brand dropped his hands to her exquisite breasts and kneaded the jutting nipples. Mother's ass began to make thump-thump sounds against the mattress. He wanted her ass to bounce faster. He played a teasing game. His hands caressed her shapely haunches.
"Ah," Arab purred, "your hands feel delicious on my asscheeks."
"Let me know how my cock feels when I shove it up your ass," Brand rasped as he spread her legs and climbed in between them. "In we go!"
Arab paled and stiffened beneath Brand's pressing weight. His cockhead touched her tense anal ring. She begged, "Not in the ass, darling, not in the ass!"
Brand laughed and rammed his cock up her ass with one savage thrust.
Brand's cock rammed into her. Surprisingly, there was no pain.
"Are you all right, Mother?"
"I'm fine, darling," Arab answered as her hips began to grind over the long fat cock that filled her asshole. "You didn't put the hurt on me. Your cock feels nice inside my ass. So big. So alive. So ... manly. Make it feel more manly, darling. Make me feel womanly. Fuck me hard, fuck me good!"
Brand withdrew his cock a few inches, then bolted it home again. They were starved for each other as only true lovers could be starved.
Their lips met and locked in a passionate kiss as Brand sawed his cock in and out of her bouncing ass.
"Ah," Arab sighed as she reluctantly moved her mouth away from his, "don't be so timid, darling. Brutalize me! Turn your big fat cock into a battering ram and make me beg for mercy."
"How does this grab you?" Brand growled as he rammed his cock all the way in. "How does this grab you?"
Arab coiled her legs around Brand's shoulders. A moment later she relaxed against the cock that filled her ass.
"Oooh, that hurts so good!"
Brand stared down at her. "Hurts?"
"It hurts like hell," Arab panted. "But don't stop doing your number on my ass. Make me ache harder. I love it. Put the big hurt on me with your long fat cock. Do it, darling, do it!"
Brand put the hurt on her squirming ass.
"My clit, darling," Arab said raggedly. "Squeeze my clit!"
"A hard squeeze?"
"Yes, darling, hard!"
Brand stopped toying with Mother's breasts and snaked an arm around her slender waist and fumbled through the pubic underbrush until he found her clit. He applied friction to the tip of it with the heel of his hand.
Arab shuddered, moaned.
Brand trapped her clitoris between thumb and forefinger and massaged it while he fucked her in the ass.
Arab kept moaning. Now she was racing at breakneck speed toward the steep edge of climax ...
"I'm almost home, Brand! Bring me all the way! Make me come, darling! Ream me, ream me!"
Brand applied more pressure to her clit and bucked in and out of her asshole. He ignored the sweat that trickled down into his eyes as he headed toward a climax. A few seconds later he buried his bone deep and filled Mother's anal canal with a hot and generous load of come.
Arab shuddered violently as the hot lava in her cunt threatened to erupt. The eruption occurred a moment later. She detonated with a mind-bending come that almost rendered her unconscious.
"Ahhhhhh," she said, nothing more.
Brand sagged against Arab and panted until his breathing returned to normal. Then he withdrew his slowly softening cock from her ass and leaned back. He watched his seminal fluid leak out of Arab's asshole.
Arab sat up beside Brand and felt more of his come ooze out of her tail to stain the bedding.
"The word for you is virile, darling. And juicy as hell. Judging by the way your jism is gushing out of me, you must have poured a gallon of it into my fanny."
Brand reached for a box of tissues and passed her a handful. "Denise Crocker said practically the same thing, Mother."
A sore spot was touched. Arab's eyes darkened with anger. "I don't want to hear another word about that two-bit slut, Brand. Do you hear me? Not one more damn word."
"Pull in your claws, Mother. From now on I'll go where I please, when I please, with whom I please, and there won't be a damn thing you'll be able to do to stop it. Did you hear what I just said, Mother?"
"I heard."
"But did you understand what I said?"
Arab nodded. "The message was clear."
Brand finished wiping his wilted cock. "It really is good, Mother. Everything about tonight and the two of us is good."
Her smile was provocative as she said huskily, "Yes, darling, good. And beautiful. Truly beautiful." And then the provocative smile dropped from her sensual lips as her thoughts rambled on. But what will happen when tomorrow comes, my darling'? I'm good now, but I won't be if Denise Crocker comes on strong and uses her hot little body to turn you against your own mother ...
Denise Crocker. The name was like a hot poker in her brain. Denise was the single disturbing factor in what could still turn out to be a long and passionate affair with her own son. A forever affair. Only something would have to be done about the little honey blonde who had taken Brand's cherry.
But what?
An excited look came into her eyes. There was a way. Denise's father worked for her. The man was an ass-licker. He also cheated on his expense account. She would send Mitch Crocker on a trip to Key West, and then invite Denise over here for the weekend ... to throw a scare into her.
She would lay it right on the line and threaten to take away the job from Denise's high-rolling father. She smiled grimly. If it meant keeping Brand close to her bedside, she would unhesitatingly do more than threaten to keep the hot-assed little honey blonde witch away from her son, her lover.
Yes, tomorrow she would send Mitch Crocker to Key West, and invite Denise over for the weekend ...
Thoughts jumped back into the present as Arab watched Brand wipe his cock with the tissues. "Care to join me in a drink, darling?"
Brand shook his head. "I'd rather do another sex number on you, Mother."
Arab smiled with quick pleasure. "My pussy is yours, darling."
He shook his head again. "I don't want to soak my cock in your cunt, Mother. Not yet."
Arab steeled herself for what she guessed he had in mind. "Oh? Where, then, darling?"
"In your mouth, Mother. I want you to take my cock in your mouth and suck me off."
Arab stared at his fresh hard-on. A moment later her brow wrinkled. "I'm not averse to sucking your cock, darling, only I'm not too sure I can handle it. That's a pretty big piece of meat for me. That huge cockhead of yours might not fit."
"We'll make it fit, Mother."
Arab's eyes remained on the cock. She wet her lips. "How, darling?"
"The easy way, how else? Just open your mouth as wide as possible and let it happen."
"Arab pouted prettily. "I don't know about this, darling ... "
He didn't give her a chance to finish. "Don't hassle me, Mother. I want you to suck my cock, so no more shit, okay?"
Arab started to climb out of bed. He pushed against her breasts and forced her head back against the pillow. "You're going to blow me, Mother. I'll help you blow me. Just yawn as wide as you can and I'll do the rest. I'll straddle your big tits and fuck you in the mouth, from the top. Do it, Mother!"
I'll let Brand fuck me in the mouth. I've got to let him fuck me in the mouth. I don't want to lose him to Denise Crocker ...
"Mother?"
Arab surrendered with a loud sigh. "I'm not going to hassle you, darling. You're my man. If you want to fuck me in the mouth, do it. Only please don't fill my mouth with that big love muscle of yours all at one time. Let me get used to it an inch at a time, okay?"
His mood gentled. He stroked her hair, face, breasts. "I won't put the hurt on your throat with my cock, Mother. Trust me."
Her smile was quick. "I trust you, darling. One more favor? When you get geared to dump your load of come in my mouth, sound a little warning, okay?"
"Why?" he asked suspiciously. "So you can spit it out?"
Arab rolled her head from side to side on the pillow. "I would never insult you by doing something like that, darling. It's just that I wouldn't want to swallow it all at once. The nectar of the phallic gods is like vintage champagne; it should be swallowed slowly, not gulped."
Brand straddled Arab and sat down on her hot naked breasts. He felt her stiff nipples gouge into his asscheeks.
Balls throbbed in agony, and for a few tense seconds it became tight-sphincter time. He gritted his teeth to keep from having a premature ejaculation. He guided the knob of his heavy cock toward Mother's puckered red lips.
Arab stared at his cockhead and moistened her lips. "I'm ready to play, darling. Tell me what to do."
"Let me see your tongue, Mother."
Arab's pink tongue stiffened and darted toward his cockhead. "Like this, darling?"
"Perfect. Now pretend my cock is an ice-cream cone and lick the knob a little."
Ice cream cone? Those words were familiar. Arab winced inwardly. Brand was beginning to sound exactly like her late husband ...
"Do it, Mother," Brand said with impatience. "Take my cock in your hot little hand and lick it like an ice-cream cone!"
Arab coiled a slender finger around the base of his heavily veined cock. Eyes widened and her lower lip trembled for a moment. She drew his flesh closer. Then her pink tongue curved downward and swiped at the underside of his cockhead.
Brand sighed luxuriously. The beginning of his second blow job ...
Arab explored the tiny aperture on his huge cockhead and after a minute or so she moved her tongue away from it. "Your come tastes absolutely delicious, darling. I knew it would. Ummmm. So damn, damn delicious. Like fresh cream."
Brand wriggled his ass over Arab's naked breasts. "You can get more cream, Mother. All you have to do is take my bone in your beautiful mouth and suck for it. Don't rake it with your teeth. Just use your tongue and your lips, okay?"
"That damn Denise Crocker seems to have turned you into a sudden expert on how a cock should or should not be sucked, darling."
"Don't get all bent out of shape, Mother. I'm willing to bet you'll make Denise look like an amateur. Prove me right. Swing, Mother, swing."
Arab took a deep breath and started to swing. Her mouth opened wide and she took his cockhead into it. Brand watched two or more inches of his cock vanish beyond her stretched red lips and experienced the strangest sensation of his life. Denise Crocker had turned him on with her mouth, but Mother was turning him on even more with hers. There was something about feeling and seeing a pair of ripe red lips hugging and slithering over his cock that rocked him.
"Go, Mother, go!"
Arab went ...
"The pump is primed," Brand said raggedly as he cupped the back of his mother's head and crammed more of his cock in her mouth. "Now tighten your lips and hold them tight while I do my fuck number."
Arab applied more pressure to his cock with her lips. She was more than willing.
"Help me, Mother," Brand rasped as he started to fuck her mouth. "Lick me, suck me, eat me!"
Arab licked, sucked, ate.
Brand groaned.
Arab raked her teeth over his cock.
"Again," Brand shrilled. "Do that again, Mother!"
Arab raked her teeth over his twitching cock again.
"One more time, Mother!"
Arab obeyed ...
Brand slipped more of his juicy cock in Arab's mouth. Instinct took over as the knob of his cock reached her tonsil area, and then she did something that permitted his instrument of pleasure to slip down her throat. A few seconds later Brand's hot and heavy balls came to rest on her chin; he was all the way home.
Arab turned her lips into a vise. She gripped. Then sucked and tugged on his delicious cock.
"Ah," Brand said, his voice coated with a mixture of passion and awe, "I knew you'd be good but I never expected you to be this good, Mother. The sword swallowing bit you just did on me is unbelievable. And you didn't even gag!" He shook his head. "I still can't believe it, Mother."
The awe in Brand's voice pleased Arab. It also told her that taking his long fat cock in her mouth might be the one way to keep him from straying too far from her bed in the future.
Sounds helped too, and she made some now by mumblin around his throbbing cock. "Mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm."
The animal noises coming from around his prick got to Brand. He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to get his rocks off. Not yet. He fought it. He kept his cock buried deep in Arab's throat until the urge to come passed. Then he withdrew and proceeded to fuck her in the mouth.
Slowly. Too slowly to suit Arab.
Arab cupped his sweaty balls. Stop gritting your teeth every time you come to the edge of climax and take the jump. Give me your juice! I'm so thirsty for your semen! So very very thirsty ...
Arab continued to toy with his sweaty balls, and nip at his cock with her teeth ...
Sharp daggers of delight stabbed at Brand's groin as orgasm drew closer and closer. The agony became unbearable. He surrendered to the inevitable and a moment later he erupted. He felt his hot load rip loose, flooding his mother's mouth. He watched and listened as she gulped loud and quick to keep up with the liquid he was releasing. When she finished swallowing, he took his cock out of her mouth. "That was one hell of a wild ride you just gave me, Mother."
Arab licked a stray droplet of come from the corner of her mouth and swallowed it. "Wilder than the one Denise Crocker gave you with her mouth, darling?"
Brand shook his head. "You'll never know the answer to that question, Mother."
Arab took his cock in her hand and stroked it tenderly. Then she forced a smile to her lips. "It doesn't matter, darling. All I want you to do is love me. That's all, Brand, just love me. Throw a good fuck into me."
"In the cunt?"
"Why not? It's the only hole you missed tonight. Please?" Her grip tightened on his cock. "Pretty please?"
"You must have given a lot of hand jobs in your time, Mother."
"A few."
"They work. I'm surprised. I was sure you couldn't make me hard again."
Arab smiled as her hand continued to stroke his cock into a complete erection. "Which proves that there are a lot of things you don't know about Mother, darling."
"That's no shit," Brand agreed as he jerked his cock out of her hand and scrambled between her yawning legs. "But I'm willing to learn."
Arab guided his cockhead toward the moist lips of her hungry cunt.
Brand watched the swollen knob of his cock stretch the glistening lips of Mother's melting cunt and vanish behind them. He clutched her marble hips and waited for the action to start. It came a moment later. Mother locked her legs around his buttocks and rubbed her black vinyl boots over his backflesh. Her body tensed. Then, quickly and unexpectedly, she lunged upward and took the entire length of his cock inside her anxious cunt.
Arab's eyes grew large. "Damn, damn, damn, I forgot how big you are!" She laughed breathlessly. "No matter. The pain is gone." She brought her hips into play. "Do your thing, cowboy. Ride me, ride me!"
Brand rode. He gripped her bucking asscheeks and put the phallic spurs to her pussy. He humped, bumped, slammed, and with each hump and bump and slam his ride came closer and closer to trail's end ...
"Fuck me harder, darling, fuck me harder!" Arab begged unashamedly as her hips went berserk. "Make me come, make me come! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Brand fucked. He sawed his cock in and out of her snapping cunt and panted.
"Like this, Mother?"
"Beautiful! Go, darling, go!"
Bodies locked, rocked. The bed shook.
Arab tightened her long legs around his moving haunches and shrieked.
"Fuck me, darling, fuck me! Buck, batter and bruise my burning cunt! Harder, faster! Ahhh, ahhh, I'm almost there! I'm on the clock! Another second or two should do the trick! Ahhh, ahhh! Ram your long fat cock all the way home! Again! Again! One more time! Ooooh!"
Brand dug his fingernails into her bouncing ass. A moment later it happened. Arab detonated as Brand's balls banged into her hypersensitive cunt.
She moaned.
And blanked out.
Brand felt his mother become motionless under him but paid no attention to her sudden lifelessness until he finished getting his rocks off. Then he backed his bloated cock free and came to a kneeling position between her languid thighs. He looked down at her. "Mother, are you all right?"
No answer.
"Mother?"
Still no answer.
He shook her. "Mother!"
Nothing.
Bewilderment mirrored his sweaty face as he studied her. Something had come down heavy, but what? Then, suddenly, he understood what had happened. A wide grin split his face.
Cock.
He had knocked out Mother with his cock!
Brand slipped out of bed and examined his wilted whang for a few seconds. Its enormity impressed him. He was hung like a mule. A real super jock. He still found it difficult to believe that Mother had blanked out from the come he had given her, but seeing was believing ...
Tonight he had gone into combat against his domineering mother and won the battle.
Now he was the king of the jungle.
Tonight he had hurt, humiliated, dominated and then enslaved his own mother.
Why stop with his mother?
Why not enslave other perfumed dolls and make them do his bidding? It could be done. It could be done with no sweat.
He had the power.
And he was free. Like a big-assed bird. Tonight, for the first time in his life, he was free!
Tonight he had learned how to stand and walk like a man.
CHAPTER FIVE
Arab and Lil Wheat were being fussed over by Mrs. Grabowski when Brand joined them on the patio at poolside. Arab smiled at him as though nothing had come down between them the night before. "Good morning, darling."
"Morning, Mother. Mrs. Grabowski. Lil."
Arab asked, "Did you sleep well, darling?"
"Not really." "Bad dreams?"
Brand shook his head. "More like wet dreams."
Mrs. Grabowski tittered.
Lil Wheat turned her head toward the swimming pool and murmured in a voice that only Arab heard, "Methinks I hear a tiger growling."
Arab locked glances with Brand. "Don't be crude, darling. You're embarrassing Mrs. Grabowski."
Brand smiled at the football-breasted woman. "I'm sorry."
Mrs. Grabowski nodded and walked away, big breasts bouncing. Lil Wheat followed her.
The instant they were alone, Arab looked at Brand and said bluntly, "I expected to discover shame in your eyes this morning, darling."
"Why? I didn't rape you, Mother.
"Don't be flippant, young man. After the horrible things you did to me last night with your cock, you should get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness."
Brand smiled without humor. "I quit doing the begging dog number for anything right after I took that damn cypress paddle away from you last night, Mother."
Arab locked glances with him. "I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with you, darling. I don't mind admitting that I'm at the end of my rope. I did my best to raise you properly, but it didn't seem to�"
"You did your best to ruin me, not raise me," Brand snapped, his own temper rising. "You kept me castrated in every way possible. Find yourself another monkey to dance while you grind your organ, Mother. I have my own number to do, and I'm going to start doing it right after we finish this conversation ... by moving out of this damn unhappy beach grave."
Arab's voice sharpened. "You can't be serious."
"Can't I? Don't bet your hot ass on that; you might lose it."
Arab shivered in the hot morning sunshine, but the cold she felt was her own misery. "I'm not going to hassle you any more, Brandon. Your mind is made up; I won't try to change it. Do whatever you think is best for you."
"I intend to, Mother."
Arab forced a smile to her lips. "You've never wanted for anything that lack of money kept you from having, darling. I won't let you want now. You'll need money to live on. First class all the way. I'll make arrangements for you at the bank. Are you going to leave Harbor City, darling?"
"I think so, Mother."
"To where?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, Mother. And at the moment I couldn't care less. All I know is that I can't stay here."
"Why not? Because you used your cock on me last night?"
"That's part of the reason, but not all of it. I wish I could make you understand how it is with me, Mother. There is no special place I want to go, there is nothing special I want to do ... except my own thing."
"I see. Will you be traveling alone?"
The corners of his mouth lifted. "You're fishing, Mother. Why don't you come right out and ask me if I'm including Denise Crocker in my trip to nowhere in particular?"
"I won't ask," she said quietly. "I don't think I'd like the answer." She glanced at her diamond-studded wrist watch. "I've got to get to the office with this week's payroll, so take your time packing. Wherever you land, keep in touch. And if you need anything, call me."
He nodded. "I won't make you chew your nails over me, Mother. I'll keep in touch."
Arab didn't try to kiss him good-by. Remembering last night and the way he had fucked her into unconsciousness the way no man had ever fucked her unconscious before, she desperately, oh so desperately, wanted to mash her mouth against his and rub her hungry cunt over his magnificent cock, but she didn't. Instead, she reached across the redwood table to give his hand a quick squeeze, and then she entered the house in search of Lil Wheat and Mrs. Grabowski, her thoughts scheming ...
Brand remained seated at the redwood table until he saw his mother drive off down the beach road. Then he went to his bedroom to do some hasty packing ... and found the cypress paddle he had used on Mother's shapely ass.
He stared at it. He made a derisive sound. Here it was. The last dig. The last word. Heavy, heavy. This was Mother's way of trying to make him feel guilty about the incest number he had done with her approval last night.
The paddle could be her way of trying to tell him that she was willing to let him use this hunk of wood on her insatiable ass ... again.
Possible. But did he want to use the paddle on her ass again?
The answer was no. He shook his head. No way. All he wanted between Mother and himself was a lot of distance, and the sooner the better.
He tossed the cypress paddle on the bed and muttered harshly, "Better luck next time, Mother."
Somebody knocked on his door.
"Come in," he called, expecting to see Lil Wheat.
Mrs. Grabowski entered. She walked up to him, big breasts jiggling, leaving the door open behind her. She stopped and held out her hands, then said, "Brandon, come to me, please."
"Yes, Mrs. Grabowski?"
She took his hands in hers and held them against her gigantic breasts. "You are leaving home, Brandon?"
He looked down into her eyes. "Yes. I hope you didn't come here to try and talk me into staying."
"No." Her football-sized breasts rose and fell against his hands. "It is good that you learn how to stand on your own feet like a man, Brandon. What you did this morning at the breakfast table was not easy for you, I know, but it is something you should have done sooner."
"It had to happen, Mrs. Grabowski."
"I know." She rubbed the tips of her breasts against his hands. "After last night there was nothing left for you but to explode. You could not back down any more. So it is good that you spread your wings and fly away to do what you call your own thing, Brandon. Some day you will learn the truth about yourself and your mother. Then you will come back here where you belong and everything will be good between all of us once more. Not until then."
He shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever come back, Mrs. Grabowski."
"Because of what you did with Mrs. Foxhill last night?" She smiled at the expression on his face, then continued. "Ever since you were a baby I could read your looks, Brandon. This morning I saw your face and I knew what had happened."
He watched her closely. "You don't seem repulsed by what happened between me and my mother. Why?"
"It is not for me to say, Brandon. Besides, what is bad, or as you say, repulsive? People who love one another sometimes do funny things and it doesn't bother. Like from when you were little and you would ask to see my breasts and I would open my dress and show them to you. Sometimes I would even let you touch them because it made you feel good. There was no shame for you. I did these things because I loved you. Your mother let you do what you did to her last night for the same reason."
His voice turned sad. "I wish I could believe you, Mrs. Grabowski, but I can't. My head isn't on straight any more after last night."
"I know, Brandon. And this is why it is good that you are leaving. The head and the heart will straighten and bring you home where you belong. You'll see." She hugged his hands to her massive breasts again, then released them. "Good-by and good luck, Brandon."
She turned away from him and crossed the room.
"Mrs. Grabowski."
She faced him again. "Yes, Brandon?"
He smiled at her. "It wouldn't be right for me to leave here without a picture of you."
A puzzled look crawled over her face. "I do not understand, Brandon."
His voice turned teasing. "And you said you were good at reading my looks."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face. "To read means to look, Brandon. I did not look so I did not see. Now I do. You want to see my breasts."
"I want to see and touch them."
"Just that?"
"Just that. Unless you want me to do more. Do you?"
"No. I am different as all men and women are different, Brandon. I do not need a stiff peter in my hole to make me come. Even when my husband was with me I did not need it. Having my breasts touched and kissed is all I need to make my juices flow. That is all I want from you, Brandon."
"And that's all you'll get from me," he told her solemnly. "Close the door, please."
Mrs. Grabowski closed the door and walked back to him, breasts heaving, eyes shining.
He ran his eyes over her body. She was wearing a pale blue button-down-the-front uniform. He unloosened the buttons, changed his mind. "I'd rather watch. You do it."
Hands lifted, fingers flew. One button. Two. Three. All the way down to her waist. She started to draw her uniform top aside to show him her crowded bra. He shook his head. "Take it all the way off, Mrs. Grabowski."
She followed the buttons all the way down to the hem line. She slipped out of the dress.
He had never seen her naked. He wanted to see her naked now. Not because he wanted to fuck her.
"Take off your panties and let me see your pussy, Mrs. Grabowski."' He saw her eyebrows arch. "It's all right. I won't try to make you."
She eased the panties down over her ample hips and stepped out of them. He admired the dark mat of hair around her cunt for a few seconds, then said, "Now the bra."
Brand stood silent, patiently waiting. Finally the bra loosened, letting her big breasts surge to bare freedom.
She glanced down at her large breasts. She put a hand under each. Her eyes remained fastened to her breasts as she pushed each high, dark rings lifting.
"Here, Brandon," she said thickly. "Here is the picture you wanted to remember me by."
He reached out and touched the warm slopes of her breasts. Then he trapped her long jutting nipples between thumbs and forefingers and gently manipulated them.
Mrs. Grabowski threw back her head, eyes closed. She moaned softly, flesh trembling.
"It is good what you are doing to my nipples with your fingers, Brandon," she said through tight teeth. "I am starting to feel it between my legs."
He tweaked her nipples for a few more seconds. Then he attacked them with his mouth. Her arms coiled around his head. He felt her breasts rise and fall, her nipples now very hard.
He wanted to give her a come. He started sucking and gnawing on the hard nipple in his mouth. Tremors shook her naked body. She tightened her arms around his head and smothered the back of his neck with hot kisses.
He kept sucking, teething, wanting her to come.
He knew she was on the verge.
Suddenly her full body tensed, her thighs tightened, and her arms turned into vises around his head.
She remained tense for another second or two ... and then she trembled and erupted.
She stopped quivering, moaning. Her breathing remained heavy. He gave her nipple a few more healthy sucks, then let it slip out of his mouth. She sighed.
He smiled at Mrs. Grabowski. "I satisfied you. I'm glad."
Brand picked her dress from the chair and helped her into it. Her long nipples still jutted. Her cunt nearly creamed again as he dipped his head and kissed each nipple through the material that covered them, then stepped back.
She started buttoning her dress from the bottom, stopped when she reached her waist to give him a final look at her bra-covered breasts. Then she finished buttoning her uniform. "I will not ask you to keep in touch as Mrs. Foxhill did, Brandon. I will simply wait for you to come home again. She moved toward the door. "Good-bye, Brandon."
"Good-bye, Mrs. Grabowski."
CHAPTER SIX
Lil Wheat wagged the ringed keys like a cat teasing a mouse and said bitingly, "For the Mercedes, Brand. Mommy wants her little baby to travel first class."
Brand flushed. Doing the watchdog number on him all these years had erected a strange barrier between them. Brand had always walked around her as though his shoes were filled with egg shells. Wagging the car keys and putting him down was starting to burn his ass. He knew she was laughing at him. Mocking him.
Sudden silence gripped the room, and Lil felt a sudden twinge of apprehension as Brand walked up to her and took the ignition keys from her slender red-tipped finger. Lil stood frozen and waited. She didn't wait long.
Brand locked glances with her for a few more seconds ... and then he slapped her.
Pain jumped into her eyes.
Brand slapped her face again.
His open hand cracked against the side of her face for the third time and made her teeth rattle.
Lil made a strange whimpering sound as she attempted to back away from Brand. He kept crowding her. His hand exploded against her cheek again and knocked her in a sprawl across the sofa.
Lil sat there for a moment, eyes wild, breasts heaving, and then she screeched, "What the hell are you slapping me around for, you prick?"
"Because you're the enemy, that's why."
"Enemy? I'm not the enemy, baby. Take a look in the mirror over there and you'll see who you should really be slapping the shit out of, baby. That's right, the only real enemy you have in this house is yourself."
"Shut the hell up."
Her voice taunted him. "Screw you, little boy."
Brand towered over her with clenched fists. "You have a big mouth, Lil. You've always had a big mouth. Maybe I should shut it up with my cock."
She sat up on the sofa and swung her legs to the floor. Her eyes were wild with the shock of pain ... and sudden fear. She had only wanted to hear the tiger roar, not make him scratch.
"I�don't hurt me, Brand. I was only joking. Don't put the hurt on me anymore. Honest to God I was only�"
"Stand up, bitch."
Lil swallowed loudly and obeyed. Brand was out for blood. Hers. His hands reached out, palms up, to cup her breasts from underneath.
He said harshly, "That's better, bitch."
Lil shivered but made no attempt to push his hands away from her breasts, hoping he would calm down. He didn't.
The summer outfit she had on buttoned down the front. Brand loosened the two top buttons. She stood frozen. His hand found its way behind the gaping dress and inside the half bra she was wearing. Her breasts were hot and firm. Not quite as big as his mother's, but damned near.
She shivered again as Brand trapped a nipple between thumb and forefinger and manipulated it into full bloom.
"Brand, don't."
"Take your don't and shove it up your ass," Brand growled as he continued to tweak her nipple. "You've tromped over me ever since I can remember, and now it's my turn to walk over you. You owe me and I'm going to collect, Lil. I'm going to collect by shoving my cock right in that tight little cunt of yours."
"Don't be a damn fool on top!" she snapped as she backed away, hands upraised in feeble protest. "I'm not built for riding. Not by a man!"
Brand made a derisive sound. "I'm AC and you're DC, so who gives a damn? Stop sweating, bitch. I'll find a way to plug you in."
"Brand, don't. It won't do either of us any good. I'm not built for riding!"
"Built or not, this morning you're going to be ridden."
Lil tasted defeat as Brand hooked his fingers into the front of her dress and yanked downward. Buttons popped and scattered in all directions.
Lil found herself trapped between him and the sofa. And so much for running. She whirled to face him, breasts heaving behind the scrap of half bra, her voice ragged as she tried to con him into leaving her cunt alone by offering a substitute.
"Please, I don't want to take your cock in my pussy, Brand. If you want to get your evens for whatever it is you think I've done to you over the years ... stick your big fat cock somewhere else." She lifted a slender finger to her crimson lips. "Here, Brand. Stick your juicy cock in here."
"Not a chance," Brand rasped as he pulled her hard against his body. She struggled. He rammed his groin hard against her. She felt his cock stretch and harden from the strange sensations her grinding pelvic movements created. His hand slipped behind the low-riding waistband of her bikini panties to touch her naked ass. He pinched her backflesh. "I don't like your mouth, Lil, but I might be persuaded to fuck this nice ass of yours."
"All right, you crazy, mixed-up brat, do your thing. You can have me there. My ass won't mind."
Brand shoved her toward the sofa.
Lil sensed a sudden change of mood and started baiting him again. She faced him with trembling breasts and proceeded to skin out of her white bikini panties as fast as she could. She tossed them aside, shook her shapely ass at him.
"Here's what you're after, little boy�my ass. It's all yours. Come and get it, little boy."
Lil say his cock was wilting. She laughed.
Brand was turning off. Lil wanted him to stay turned on. Not for her sake. For Arab's ...
She spread the dimpled cheeks of her ass to show Brand the puckered brown circle nestled between them.
"Don't be bashful, widdle boy. Show Lil how much you hate her guts for all the times she tried to protect you from your own stupidity." She slapped her buttocks loudly. "Do your thing, dum-dum�fuck my ass!"
Brand's cock softened. Asshole. His for the taking. Only he didn't want it. Not from her, and not like this. Lil knew why. She had become submissive. Angry but submissive. Like a paid whore. The mistake was hers. Brand wanted a woman who had fire in her blood.
"Come on, widdle boy, fuck Lil's pretty ass."
Brand stared at her tense sphincter but nothing happened.
She shook her ass at him again and panted, "Come, baby, I'm waiting for that big spiteful cock you want to shove up my asshole. Get with it. Shit or get off the pot!"
No use ...
Lil straightened, then turned to look at Brand. Then, hating herself for what she was going to do next, she started slashing at his pride with her sharp tongue again. "What's the matter, widdle wabbit? Can't you get your cawwot hard so you can bury it in my asshole?"
She saw Brand's fists clench and for a wild moment she thought he was going to hit her; he didn't. Instead he walked over to where his luggage rested, started to pick them up, now anxious to leave.
Lil took a deep breath and went for the low blow. "All the rumors I heard about you in and around Harbor City are true, aren't they, widdle boy?" She made a derisive sound. "You go, but only up to a certain point, and then your cock drops dead. Macho one minute, eunuch the next. Maybe you'd do better if you tried making it with another boy."
Brand paled. "Shut the fuck up, Lil."
Lil stood before him, feet apart and cunt showing, breasts heaving. "Make me shut up, you sorry little fruit."
Brand walked up to her and hit her in the stomach. She doubled over and clutched her belly. Brand shoved her, and she landed on her naked ass with a loud thud. She looked up at him, clutching her stomach. "You didn't get a cherry, Brand. I've been knocked down before."
"You won't get knocked down by me again," Brand said as he towered over her. "The next time you bad-mouth me I'll do worse than set you on your ass. Clear?"
Brand turned away from her and walked back to his luggage. Lil jumped up and ran over to the window as he carried the bags outside and tossed them inside his Mercedes. He started to ease in behind the wheel. She ran naked into the sunlight.
Brand stood beside the Mercedes and waited until she walked up to him. "What the fuck is it with you, Lil? Wasn't one fist in the guts enough to make you get your rocks off?"
She was breathing heavily, breasts rising and falling, and she noted that her dark nipples had hardened.
"One punch is never enough to make me cream my cunt," she snapped. "Nor is one punch enough to keep me down. I know how to duck or roll with most of them." She looked at him shrewdly. "The question is, do you know how?"
A puzzled look crawled across Brand's face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I think you already know, Brand." Her voice changed, softening. "I know why you're leaving."
"So?"
She took a deep breath that rocked her naked breasts. "I don't think you're going to make it stick, Brand. Not unless you put a lot of distance between Arab and yourself. And I do mean a lot of distance. Stay within her reach and she'll retie that knot around your cock so fast it will make your head swim."
"I'm afraid I don't get it, Lil." Irritation edged his voice. "Why don't you stop talking in parables and make us both smart?"
She nodded. "All right, baby, here it comes. I like your mother. I always did, I always will. My hang-up for other women has nothing to do with the way I feel about her. I owe Arab in a way I couldn't possible expect you to understand, and now is my chance to do my thing and balance the books a little. Getting you out of her hair would damn near balance my private ledger and put me in the black."
"How do you figure it?"
"I'd be doing Arab a favor. You don't belong anywhere near her. You never did. Arab doesn't deserve a heartless sonofabitch like you for a son ... or a lover."
Brand winced. "She seems to think so."
She twisted her lips. "Only because she likes to keep you dancing on the end of her string. Think I'm joking? Stay close to the nest and find out the hard way, little boy."
"Know something, Lil?" Brand said as he eased in behind the wheel of his Mercedes and keyed the engine to life. "I think I will stick close to this nest, just so I can make a liar out of you!"
Tears of happiness shone in Lil's eyes as she watched Brand take off. She had clobbered him with words she hadn't wanted to speak, but it didn't matter. The important thing was that her reverse psychology had worked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunlight crept in through the open window and splashed across the bed, bringing Denise Crocker out of a deep and dream-filled sleep. She sat up in the rumpled bed, and the blanket dropped to her lap to reveal naked breasts, coral nipples hard.
Denise stretched, yawned and murmured sleepily, "What an absolutely creamy night! All those delicious erotic happenings with Brand Foxhill!" Her naked breasts shook as she laughed softly, like a tinkling bell. "A real jock, that boy. Came at me as if he expected sex to go out" of style any second." She grimaced. "My poor ass is still sore from the way he fucked it, and I can still taste the come he squirted when I sucked his big juicy cock." She gave a delicate little shudder, giggled. "If I can get him to tuck that big prick of his between the lips of my cunt tonight, I'll really be able to chalk it up on the calendar as an event to remember!"
Denise wondered how Brand was faring this morning. Maybe the poor bastard was having difficulty explaining to his domineering mother the pecker tracks she was sure to have discovered on the front of his pants.
Poor Brand!
Poor hell, Denise corrected herself. Daddy and I should have the loot Arab and Brand Foxhill haul in just from the construction of FOXHILL HOMES, and to hell with the rest of FOXHILL ENTERPRISES, which represented a few more million dollars worth of goodies.
Denise felt her pussy getting hot and checked the impulse to finger herself into an early morning come. A sigh seeped past her lips. No stinky finger. That would be cheating Daddy, and cheating Daddy was out.
Denise scrambled out of bed and took a quick shower. Then she returned to her bedroom and went to work on herself at the cosmetic table. She pouted at her mirror twin. Then she held the pucker and applied a generous coating of dark red lipstick to her sensuous mouth. Now she was beginning to look like a sexy bitch.
The thought of looking like a bitch amused Denise. Even at the tender age of thirteen she had known how to go the bitch route to attract the opposite gender with her budding body. Especially dirty old men. Like the uncle who had copped the cherry from her mouth by conning her into going down on him.
Oddly enough, she couldn't recall the uncle's name. She did, however, remember what the sixty-year-old fart looked like. Uncle had been a short, potbellied man, bald except for a fringe of hair that circled his skull like an unfinished halo. Too, she remembered his breath. He had always reeked of wine. Cheap wine. And he'd had no teeth.
Her thoughts flitted back to the afternoon she had sucked her first cock. Uncle's cock. They had been alone in the house, while outside the rain fell hard and splattered against the windows. She remembered the television set being on and Uncle watching some dumb afternoon movie. She lay on the shag rug near.
Presently, she had fallen asleep in front of the crackling fire, and awakened to find Uncle sitting and panting beside her. More than panting, really, for when she opened her eyes she found his bony hands resting on her tight little ass.
There had been no fear in her as she sat up beside the horny old bastard. Nothing had happened. True, her short skirt rode high on her thighs and the top button of her blouse had mysteriously become undone, but her panties were still in place and this told her that she had awakened in the nick of time.
"What is it, Uncle?" she had asked with mock innocence, knowing damn well what had almost come down. "Is something wrong?"
Uncle shook his head. "No, baby, nothing is wrong. I just got lonesome for company so I thought I'd sit down by the fire with my favorite niece." He retrieved the glass of wine and extended it toward her. "Try some, little one. It will take the chill from your bones."
She had raised the glass and drained its contents. And then strange things began to happen.
Uncle had suggested, "What say we park our rumps on the sofa and watch some television, baby?"
"All right."
Uncle had helped her up from the shag rug by placing his bony hands over her apple-sized breasts, then chuckled and said, "I'm feeling a pair of hard sweeties that tells me my niece is growing up."
She had been no stranger even then to having her miniature breasts teased by male hands, but Uncle's were getting to her. She stifled a giggle and wondered: Is he trying to fuck me?
She permitted him to hug her titties with his bony hands for a few more seconds. Then she broke free and crossed over to the sofa, with Uncle sniffing after her like a raunchy old hound in heat.
She squirmed into position on the sofa, her short skirt climbing high on her thighs until Uncle could see her bikini panties. He was puffing as he sank down beside her and said thickly, "I like you, baby."
"And I like you, Uncle."
"Enough to sit on my lap?"
"You betchum."
Uncle's bony hands gripped her waspish waist and lifted her to his lap. His erection had throbbed against her buttocks. She had known what it was but playing the role of the innocent niece she had remarked, "You feel lumpy, Uncle."
"Oh?"
"Do you have a flashlight in your pocket?"
"No, baby. Not flashlight, fleshlight. What you're feeling against your pretty little rear is my prod."
"What's a prod?"
"It's what men use to piss with."
"Is that all it's good for�to piss with?"
"No, baby. It's good for a lot of other things."
"Like what?"
"Well, it can be used to make a girl happy in many ways. Even little girls like yourself, baby. Would you like for me to show you one of them?"
"I wouldn't mind."
"All right, I will, baby. But not just yet. Let me do something else first."
"Oh? What?"
"Let me touch you a little."
"Touch me where, Uncle?"
"Here," Uncle said as he lifted a bony hand to the front of her blouse and loosened another button. "Don't be scared, baby. All I want to do is see those little sweeties of yours, and fool around with them a little."
Tipsy and curious, she had leaned back against Uncle's chest and permitted him to have his lustful way with her. Uncle wasted no time in doing his thing. Hands quaking, he loosened the buttons of her blouse and then drew the material aside to expose her braless breasts. He admired the blunt pink tips of her titties and then dropped his mouth to the nearest one and took it between his lips. Toothless gums raked it and made her shiver with delight.
She had squirmed against his erection and shrilled, "Oooh, that feels so nice, Uncle."
Uncle's gums kept gnawing on her tiny nipple. Simultaneously, his bony right hand slithered up the inner path of her thigh and came to rest on the warm webbing of her bikini panties.
Still thinking Uncle intended to fuck her, she had permitted her thighs to drift apart, to make it easier for his fingers to reach her almost hairless pussy, but Uncle wasn't interested in copping her cherry. He caressed her panties and devoured her little nipple until she was writhing all over his covered erection, and just as she was about to beg him to fuck her ... Uncle permitted the nipple to escape from between his lips and dumped her to the floor.
She had looked up at him with surprised eyes. "What's the matter, Uncle? Why did you stop fooling around with my little titties and my burning twinkie?"
Uncle reached for his fly and unlocked his zipper, then hauled out his cock into full view. "I'm too worked up to fool around anymore, baby. Now we get down to the nitty-gritty."
"Are you going to fuck me?"
"No, baby, you're going to suck me."
She stared at his erection. Uncle's cock was small, needle-headed, but to her it was the biggest instrument of pleasure she had seen to date, and the mere thought of taking it inside her mouth frightened her.
"I don't think I want to suck your thing, Uncle," she had said. "It might hurt me."
"That's pure nonsense, baby. A taste of my cock juice will make you into a real woman. Come on, try it."
She had hesitated, her eyes never leaving Uncle's cock.
Uncle wet his lips and then removed a silver dollar from his pocket. He had wagged the ancient coin at her. "You know what this is, baby? It's the 1973 silver dollar I promised to give you on your sixteenth birthday."
"I know."
"Only you needn't wait that long to put it in your collection, baby. Take my cock in that pretty mouth of yours and you can have it right now. How about it, baby?"
"I don't know, Uncle ... "
"Think about it, baby. A buck for a suck."
She had looked at the silver dollar, and then at his erection. The moments dragged.
"Well, baby?"
Greed won out. She had licked her virginal red lips in a moistening gesture, nodded. "All right, Uncle. Give me the silver dollar."
"Not yet, baby. Not until after you play a tune on my skin flute." He fisted his small cock and shook it at her. "Come on, baby, don't be bashful. Take my cock in that sweet little mouth of yours and taste my come."
She had remained seated on her ass for another pair of seconds. Staring at the rigid flesh Uncle wanted her to take inside her mouth. Then she came to her knees between his yawning legs and touched his cock for the first time. She skinned him back to expose its tip. Then she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Will it make me sick, Uncle?"
"Will what make you sick, baby?"
"Your juice?"
"What makes you so sure I'm going to squirt my juice in your pretty mouth, baby?"
She had giggled. "I know about things like that, Uncle. My best friend at school told me about the man who always squirts in her mouth ... and always makes her throw up."
"My cock milk won't make you puke," Uncle said. "All it'll do is make you hungry for more. Try it, you'll like it."
She moistened her lips again. "I don't know, Uncle. Wouldn't you rather I used my hand on it?"
Uncle was amused. "I don't need you or anyone else to lope my mule, baby." His voice turned wheedling again. "If you want the silver dollar, you'll have to suck me off to get it. Well, baby, what's it going to be?"
She had leaned forward a bit to examine his drooling cock and replied, "Better to blow you than blow the silver dollar."
Uncle chuckled and patted her on the top of her head. Then he stretched his skinny legs out before him. "Hop to it, baby."
Baby had hopped. She planted a butterfly kiss on the tip of his cock. Eyes were closed, her mind filled with but a single thought: A buck for a suck ...
Uncle shivered as her tongue grazed the underside of his slippery knob. He stiffened a moment later as she stretched her lips into a perfect oval and nipped him with her small, sharp, white teeth. Then he gripped her ears. "Don't smoke it; chew it!" A second later he cursed and corrected himself, "I mean smoke it; don't chew it! God, that smarts!"
She had stopped hurting his cock with her teeth. Then she took a deep breath and renewed her massaging attack on his cock, for the first taste of his semen was enough to hook her. Jaws stretched to accommodate Uncle's whang and her free hand palmed his balls. Uncle shivered again. Then he relaxed against the sofa and permitted her to do him up brown with her lips.
She made small animal sounds as she took the length of his small cock in her mouth and went about the chore of treating Uncle to a blow job. In a few seconds Uncle moaned.
"Suck me faster and harder, baby," Uncle panted. "Work for the silver dollar's worth of come I'm going to give you!"
She worked. Speedily. Greedily. Eagerly.
She sucked and gnawed on his cock. She worked to drain his pipe and Uncle thrilled to every draw she made with her lips and teeth, until insanity gripped his balls and he erupted to fill her mouth and throat with a healthy batch of passion sauce that damn near strangled her.
She had made loud gulping sounds in the suddenly ominous silence.
Animal sounds.
Like a starving cat.
Until he finished coming ...
"That was by far the best blowjob I ever had," Uncle said after the room stopped spinning. "I mean it, baby. A few more cocks between those sweet lips of yours and you'll be a real pro in the vine-swinging department."
She smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Uncle. I did, too." She held out her hand. "Now may I have the silver dollar?"
"Sure, baby, sure."
Uncle had dug the silver dollar from his pocket and flipped it in the air. She caught it deftly, examined the coin. "You tricked me, you old sonofabitch! This silver dollar isn't real!"
Uncle had doubled up with laughter. "Of course it isn't real, baby. It never was. Only the blowjob you gave me was real."
"You won't get away with this, you dirty old fart," she had shrieked at him. "I don't like to be cheated. I'm going to tell Daddy what you made me do to you!"
Uncle's nostrils had quivered and the blood drained from his face. "Do that to me and I'll break your pretty little neck, baby."
"I'm going to tell on you, I'm going to tell on you!"
Uncle had started to make good his threat by reaching for her throat. His arms froze in mid-air as a car horn sounded outside.
Daddy was home!
Uncle had immediately lost interest in doing her bodily harm and made like a scared rabbit through the back door, leaving luggage and everything else behind ...
Denise's train of thought chugged back into the present, her pussy wet and hot from the memory of the erotic trip she had just finished taking into the past.
"Damn," she said aloud, "why is it that my cunt always melts whenever I think about sucking someone's cock?" She giggled. "Maybe I should do something about the melting. Maybe I should get all dolled up and pay Daddy a visit in his room."
The idea appealed to her. Daddy knew what to do to cool the heat in her loins. Daddy always knew what to do. Had known since the same afternoon she had sucked Uncle's prick. Daddy was her dream man ... the horny knight on the white stallion every girl sees riding through her sleep.
Daddy. She. They had lived for each other since that weird rainy afternoon when she had sucked her first cock. Theirs was a gentle relationship, and the routine never varied. It would start with a kiss, her body rubbing against his, and then she would permit him to undress her and plant more kisses all over her naked flesh ... until she could stand it no longer ... and then she would trap his cock between her sensuous red lips and devour him.
Passion mounted in Denise's loins. She licked her lips. "I think I will doll up and pay Daddy a visit before breakfast."
Denise selected a bra and crammed her exquisite tits into it. The bra was white nylon with wide set lingerie straps. Lace, crotchless G-string panties were next on the agenda. She tugged the scanties into place. Then she donned a tight sweater and an equally snug micromini skirt. She ran a caressing hand over her breasts and smiled at her image in the full-length door mirror. She looked as sexy as she felt. A dash of the expensive French perfume Daddy like to inhale and then she would be ready to meet her maker.
A cock. She was hungry for a cock. Daddy's cock.
Denise floated down the silent hallway to Daddy's bedroom. The door was closed. She rattled the doorknob. "Daddy, are you awake?"
Silence. Seconds passed. She knocked and called again, "Daddy, are you awake?"
She turned the knob and entered Daddy's bedroom.
The bed was empty.
Then, somewhat belatedly, she remembered that Daddy always left early for the FOXHILL HOMES DEVELOPMENT office on Friday mornings.
She smiled suddenly. Leaving early meant that Daddy would return early, too, and then they would have the entire weekend to themselves.
Flames of passion still blazed in Denise's loins, but she bravely decided to restrain herself until Daddy came home. Well, the least she could do was try to restrain herself ...
Denise went into the spacious front room to raid the booze bin. Hard stuff this early in the morning was not her usual habit, but her cunt was still on fire and she needed something stronger than a glass of weak wine to soothe her savage beast.
She built herself a brandy highball and carried it over to the sofa. Her pussy kept twitching. A distraction. She needed a distraction. She sipped the drink and thought about Daddy's juicy cock. The knowledge that today Daddy would bring his whang home early sent thrills running up and down her spine. A few seconds later she felt her sleeping nipples awaken behind her bra to show through her tight sweater.
Denise pressed her thighs together and focused her attention on the television screen. She winced inwardly and wondered how many more times the local channel intended to clobber its viewers with reruns of the lousy shitkicker series Arab Foxhill used as an excuse to advertise FOXHILL HOMES.
Disgusted, she plunged the television set into darkness.
A few seconds later the phone rang.
"Denise?" The caller was Arab Foxhill.
"Yes, Mrs. Foxhill, this is Denise. If you want to speak with Daddy, you're too late. He's already on his way to the office."
"Mitch isn't the reason I'm calling, Denise."
"Oh?"
"Brand mentioned seeing you last night," Arab Foxhill said in a sick-sweet voice, "and this reminded me that it's been ages since I last saw you. I'm still a bit miffed at your father for not mentioning your return from Paris, but I'll forgive him if you accept an invitation to spend this coming weekend with me at my beach house. Do we have a date, Denise?"
The last thing Denise wanted to do was spend the weekend with Arabella Foxhill, but the very last thing she wanted was to get Brand's mother pissed off enough to tie the can to Daddy's tail ...
"We have a date, Mrs. Foxhill. What time?"
"Eight o'clock tonight all right with you?"
"Eight it is, Mrs. Foxhill."
Denise muttered as she returned the phone to its cradle and retrieved her brandy highball. "That buddy-buddy number of yours doesn't fool this kid. I know why you asked me over for the weekend. To keep me away from your son's cock ... "
The morning passed slowly.
Denise was on her seventh highball and feeling no pain when she heard the front door open and slam shut. "Is that you, Daddy?"
"Who the hell else would it be, honey bear?" Daddy teased as he walked into the living room. "The milkman is too damned old to do you any good, and the mailman won't be by for another hour or so."
A strange but familiar heat jumped into Denise's loins the instant she saw her father. Daddy was turning her on. He always did. Tall, iron-haired and muscular, he was as handsome as any movie star she had ever seen.
Denise's pussy drooled as she shifted on the sofa to make room for her father. This sliding motion caused her short skirt to climb higher on her milk-smooth thighs.
Denise glanced at the wall clock. "What's with the home early number, lover? Don't tell me Arab Foxhill came down with a bad case of generosity and gave you the afternoon off?"
Mitch Crocker smiled. "Arab doesn't do anything out of kindness, honey bear. I'm still working. I just came home to pack a bag. The Iron Maiden is sending me to one of her branch offices in Key West for the weekend."
"That figures," Denise said as she got up to mix a drink for him. "The old split routine. Arab sends you out of town and invites me over for the weekend. Damn!"
Mitch Crocker paled slightly. "You don't suppose she somehow found out that you and Brand had an orgy in the garden last night, do you?"
Denise smiled mirthlessly. "How could she miss finding out? You know how Brand is dominated by the bitch. One stern look from her and he wilts like yesterday's gardenia. Oh, she knows, all right. That's why she wants me to spend the weekend with her." Denise handed him his drink. "What do you know about Arab Foxhill that I don't?"
Mitch laughed. "Plenty. This hang-up over her son isn't the only one Arab has, honey bear. I know a few other bunnies in this neck of the swamp she drove away from Brand with her tongue, and I'll lay odds you're going to receive the same treatment."
Denise sat down beside him, frowned. "You mean Arab is going to read me off?"
Mitch grinned at her. "I mean she's going to eat you out of her son's life."
Denise's eyes widened slightly in surprise, her blood quickened. "I didn't even suspect her of plugging in both ways, but now that I do know ... what are we going to do about it?"
Mitch took a swallow of his drink. "We are not going to do anything, honey bear�you are."
"How?"
Mitch rattled the ice in his glass. "By spending the weekend with Arab Foxhill and doing everything she asks of you, honey bear."
She grimaced. "Don't joke, Daddy."
"It's not a joke, honey bear. To put it bluntly, it's your ass or mine. All things considered, I think it better be yours."
"Whatever you think best, Daddy," Denise said, her blood speeding up at the prospect of pitching a weekend orgy with the richest woman in Harbor City. "And speaking of ass, how much time can you spare to take care of mine?"
Mitch set his glass on the rug and trapped Denise in his arms. "You little alley cat, you're always ready, aren't you?"
Denise fondled his covered cock. "That's right, I'm a wantin', and at the moment I'm a wantin' you, Daddy. All of you."
Denise shivered with delight as Daddy's hand crept under her tight sweater and captured a bra-covered breast.
She started to slide from Mitch's lap to her knees. He gently squeezed her breast. "No, honey bear. No blowjob. Today I want you in the regular way."
Denise relaxed and then moaned softly as Daddy's squirming fingers eased behind her bra and tweaked her nipples into full bloom.
"Oh, Daddy!" she hissed passionately. "Your fingers feel delicious! You drive me right up the nearest wall! Ah, don't stop, don't stop!"
Denise's heart hammered as Daddy's other hand vanished under the hem of her skirt and prowled through her pubic garden. Spasms of pleasure ripped through every fiber of her being. Her breasts tingled as his hand moved from one to the other in a kneading manner. She couldn't take much more of this. No way.
"Fuck me, Daddy! Now, now!"
"Make yourself ready, honey bear."
Denise needed no encouragement. She removed her tight sweater. She tossed it aside. "Your turn, Daddy. Unzip me."
Denise stood up while Mitch attacked her skirt. He forced the material downward until it dropped to form into a puddle of cloth around her ankles.
"Ah," Denise sighed as his lips brushed fleetingly against her dimpled navel, "that feels so creamy! Now take off my shoes."
"No," Mitch rasped as he placed his sweaty palms on her hips. "Leave them on. You know how I react to seeing a naked doll in high heels."
"And how I know!"
Mitch's fingers hooked into the elastic waistband of her crotchless panties and lowered them to where Denise could step free of the material. Now all she had on were the strap sandals and the dainty half bra, but not for long. Mitch pushed the lingerie straps from her smooth shoulders and unclasped it. He jerked it free and tumbled her breasts into complete nakedness.
Mitch undressed and lowered his body on top of hers. "Here it comes, honey bear!"
"I'm waiting, Daddy. Slap it to me!"
Mitch clutched Denise's slightly grinding hips and filled her cunt with his rock-hard cock.
Denise moaned. Her arms coiled around his neck. Her cheek slid smoothly against his. Her searching lips met and locked with his. Theirs was a long and hungry kiss. They broke for air. Her lips moved away from his. She kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his chin, his throat. She mashed her breasts against his chest. Her hips began to grind faster over the goring cock that filled her tingling cunt. She was melting. Turning into liquid fire.
"Ah, Daddy, Daddy, I'm burning up! Do your thing! Cool my hot cunt with your come! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Daddy fucked her.
Slowly. Expertly. Rhythmically.
In and out, in and out. Winding her up like a toy doll. Tighter and tighter and tighter.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Denise chanted, "your big cock feels so wonderful inside my cunt! Damn, damn, does it ever feel wonderful! Pour it to me, pour it to me!"
Denise's hips jerked and her eyes glazed in warning of an approaching climax.
Mitch renewed his attack on Denise's wet cunt.
Denise was almost home. Ass bounced, hips churned faster. Almost home ...
Mitch's phallic worm kept squirming. In and out, in and out.
"Oooh, Daddy, Daddy, what you're doing to me with that long fat cock of yours!"
Denise's lips prowled over his now flushed face again. Searching for his mouth. Slipping her tongue between his teeth. Tickling the back of his throat in her own interpretation of the French kiss.
Mitch responded to the French kiss. He increased the speed of his strokes, wanting her to detonate with him. He began ramming into her, harder and harder. She matched him ram for ram.
Denise's cunt kept melting, her body kept quivering. She savored the hardness of Daddy's body against the softness of her own, the heavy throb of his slithering shaft as it continued to massage her electrified box.
She wrapped her legs around Daddy's hunching buttocks. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
And she did. So did her father. They detonated together.
Later, much later, Denise smiled dreamily. "It's been so long since we've gone the missionary route I'd almost forgotten how wonderful a fuck in the cunt could be, Daddy. It was beautiful. Really and truly it was beautiful."
Mitch sat up on the sofa. "For me, too, honey bear."
"I pleased you, master?"
Mitch grinned. "Let me put it this way, honey bear. You do pretty well in the hanky-panky department ... for an amateur."
Denise squirmed into a sitting position beside her father. She said with mock indignation, "Amateur? You'll live to regret that put-down, chum." She dropped a hand to his lap and flicked a finger against his limber cock.
Mitch shifted his attention to the wall clock and a curse ripped past his suddenly twisted lips. One hour from now ... he had a plane to catch.
"I'd better start packing, honey bear."
Denise's face clouded with sadness. "I wish you didn't have to go on that stinking trip, Daddy."
"So do I, honey bear, but when Arab Foxhill says jump, I jump. I hope you remember to do the same."
Denise smiled suddenly. "Do you want me to help you pack, Daddy?" He gave her nearest breast a quick hug. "I'll take care of it."
Mitch walked out of the room. Denise finished her drink and dressed quickly so she could walk Daddy out to the car when he made ready to leave. A minute or so later she heard a car stop outside. She crossed over to the picture window. It was Brand Foxhill.
Denise met Brand at the front door. "The answer to a maidenhead's�well, maiden's anyhow, prayer. Daddy is packing to go on a business trip for your mother, and I was about to come down with a sudden case of boredom. Now you're here, and now I needn't worry about getting bored."
Brand caressed her crowded sweater as he stepped inside and grinned. "You might wind up getting bored, but not in the way you mean, hot stuff."
Denise reached out and patted his crotch. "I'm game, but not until after Daddy cuts out. How about a drink?"
Brand nodded and followed her swinging hips into the front room. "Make it a double of anything. I need something strong to get this shitty taste out of my mouth."
Denise shot him a quick look as she went behind the bar. "You sound up-tight, Brand. Would you like to talk about it?"
Brand fished a cigarette from his coat pocket. "Mother found out about the game we played in your garden last night."
"And?"
Brand took a deep drag on his cigarette. "We ended up doing a number on each other."
"Who won the battle?"
"I did." Brand grinned. "Mother damn near shit when I announced during breakfast that I was packing up and clearing out of the nest."
"You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Nope. My bags are in the Mercedes. By tonight I'll be living it up at our Moon Lake cottage. That's why I stopped by, Denise. To ask if you'd care to join me in a weekend orgy."
Denise finished making the drinks and joined him on the sofa before she said, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Brand. I've been invited to spend the weekend with your mother, starting this evening."
Brand's eyes darkened. "Do me a favor?"
"If I can."
"Return Mother's phone call and tell her to jam the invitation up her ass."
Denise filled his hand with a highball and smiled acidly. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Brand. Your mother didn't come right out and say it, but I'm afraid our getting tight last night has put Daddy's job on the line."
"Meaning she'll tie the can to Mitch's tail if you don't follow through on the invitation."
"You got it."
Brand started to say something but at this point Denise's father came into the living room. Mitch set both suitcases down on the floor and said, "Brand."
Brand nodded. "Mitch. I hear you're being banished to Key West for the weekend."
Mitch smiled sourly. "I hope it's only for the weekend."
Denise stood and walked up to her father. "Call me when you get to Key West?"
"You know I will." He pecked Denise on the lips and gave her a playful slap across her shapely ass. "Be good, honey bear. But if you can't be good, be careful."
"Yes, Daddy."
Mitch shook hands with Brand and left. A minute or so later they heard him drive away from the house.
Brand grinned at her and said, "I envy you, Denise."
"For what?"
"For the fantastic relationship you have with your father."
Denise's eyes twinkled as she remembered the beautiful fuck Daddy had thrown into her earlier. "Yes, we're just one big happy family." Denise dropped a hand to Brand's crotch and gave his limp cock a quick hug with her fingers. "There's nothing to prevent us from getting with it right now, Brand." She licked her lips. "I missed breakfast. How about letting me chow down on your big sausage?"
Brand shivered and felt his sleeping cock awaken. It stretched and hardened against his thigh. He leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Go ahead, Denise, do me."
Denise unlocked his fly zipper and hauled out his petrified rope of flesh. She unsheathed the knob by skinning him back. There was a small popping sound as his cockhead jumped into view. She admired his magnificent erection for a few seconds. Then she melted to her knees before him and made ready to worship at the phallic shrine.
Denise's breasts mashed against his thighs as she yawned and took the swollen knob of his prick between her lips. Brand shuddered convulsively as her mouth tightened over it. He glanced down and watched the length of his cock vanish deeper and deeper into her red-rimmed mouth ... until his balls came to rest against her dimpled chin.
Denise made a gurgling sound. Then she cupped his nuggets in her palm and tickled them with the tips of her squirming fingers.
"Suck, Denise, suck."
Good. It was getting good to him.
Denise tickled his balls and made strange gulping sounds. Noisy gulps. Greedy gulps. Sucking.
"I'm getting there," Brand croaked. "Damn, damn, am I ever getting there!"
Denise kept going. She sucked and gnawed on his cock until he erupted. Then she devoured his fluid with gusto, draining him, and when he finished gushing she permitted his penis to slither from between her warm lips and asked, "Did you enjoy the ride, big stud?"
Brand helped her to a sitting position beside him. "It was a fantastic trip, Denise."
Denise nodded and reached for a nearby box of facial tissues. She wiped her slightly smudged lips with one, then smiled dreamily. "I enjoyed eating you off, but I'm glad you aren't in the mood to dish out seconds."
"Oh?"
"That big cock of yours wore me out, and now I feel like the female executive who just finished putting in a long shift�you know, a hard day at the orifice."
Brand made a sour face. "I'm sorry you said that."
Denise giggled. "So am I." She patted his flaccid cock. "How about another drink?"
Brand shook his head. "Another time, Denise. I think I'd better move on down the road. It's a long haul to Moon Lake. Sure you won't change your mind and come with me?"
A bitchy smile curved her lips. "I can't ignore your mother, Brand, but I do have an idea you might go for."
Brand crammed his cock back inside his pants and zipped his fly. "Lay it on me."
"You're pissed off at your mother, right?"
"That's no shit."
"So why don't you invite some company out to the lake that will really tear her up?"
"I can't," he said sourly. "Mother saw to that a long time ago. The only girl she hasn't scared away from me is yourself."
She almost laughed at the expression on his face. "You're wrong, Brand. There's one other girl your mother hasn't reached."
"Which one?"
"Ginger Green."
Brand stared at her for a few seconds. Then he snapped his fingers. "That's right! Kiss my ass, I completely forgot about Ginger Green!"
Denise's eyes sparkled. "Ginger Green makes no bones about having hot panties for you."
"You're putting me on."
"Find out for yourself. Call Ginger at your mother's office and ask her for a date."
Brand glanced at his wrist watch. It was eleven o'clock.
"To hell with getting on the horn," Brand said as he reached out to trap and fondle her nearest breast. "I think I'll trip over to the subdivision office and do my number in person."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ginger Green was hard at work behind her electric typewriter when Brand Foxhill arrived at the office. She looked up from her work and stopped typing, her thoughts suddenly on the one time this handsome boy had attempted to massage her cunt with his cock, and failed.
"Hi, Brand."
"Hi, Ginger."
Brand's eyes crawled over her for a few seconds. Ginger almost giggled. She knew what he was seeing: A diminutive flame-haired hunk of perfumed flesh attired in a fawn-colored miniskirt and an ice-green blouse that hugged her pointed breasts with fiendish tenderness.
He finished undressing her with his eyes. "Is Mother in? I didn't see her car outside when I drove up."
Ginger shook her head. "She delivered the payroll and cut out. I'm sure I can locate her by phone if you want me to, Brand."
He repressed a smile. "I didn't come to see her."
"Oh?"
"Nope. I'm here in search of a sexy little redhead I can con into spending the weekend with me at a cottage on Moon Lake. Know anyone who fits this description?"
"I might." She came around the desk and thrust her full and pointed breasts toward his face. Her voice sounded like a whisper on velvet as she said, "How about this sexy little redhead, Brand?"
"You'll more than do, Ginger. How soon can you escape from this damn office?"
"Not until four o'clock." Her nose wrinkled. "You'd better not pick me up here, either. I've got my job to protect."
"All right. Name the place."
"The Lady Luck Bar. It's right across the highway from here."
"I know the place. A real ashtray. All right, I'll meet you there. Shall we kiss on it?"
Breath caught in Ginger's throat as her eyes dropped to the prominent swelling in the front of Brand's slacks. "Not out here, you big satyr. A customer might walk in on us."
"Let's use my mother's private office, Ginger. It's a safe place. How about it?"
Ginger hesitated, her eyes still glued to his crotch. "Well ... "
This was all the encouragement Brand needed. Ginger laughed softly as he slipped an arm around her waspish waist and ushered her through the frosted glass door. She knew she was taking a great risk by coming in here with him, but at the moment she didn't give a damn. Brand was getting hotter by the second.
Brand heeled the door shut behind them, and a moment later she was in his arms. Heat jumped into her cunt again and every inch of her skin tingled as Brand insinuated his erection against her stomach. His mouth dropped over hers and then the room began to whirl around her.
Ginger felt Brand's warm lips on hers�urgent, passionate, demanding, and tremors of delight surged through her body as he gripped her firm ass and strained her closer to his hard and throbbing cock.
She slid her mouth away from his. "Brand, no, not here. Your mother might come back."
Brand laughed and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to the black leather couch.
Ginger giggled and squirmed to get away from Brand and the short skirt climbed high on her thighs and revealed the webbing of her black bikini panties.
"Brand, no!"
She was in his arms again and her lips were under his and she felt all the familiar hunger in her that she knew so well ... all the warmth, all the eagerness ... and her breasts, feeling fuller than she had ever known them, moved against him, nipples now very hard. And in this hot moment of spinning passion she knew that she would let Brand fuck her, right now.
"Game time, Ginger," Brand rasped. "And this time I won't be impotent with you."
Ginger made a small whimpering sound as his hands found her breasts again. The room was spinning. "All right, have it your way. Take me. Make me naked and fill my cunt with this big cock of yours. Do it, Brand, fuck me!"
Brand reached for the buttons of her ice-green blouse. The blouse yawned to reveal a black net half bra crammed with twin mounds of delight, blushing pink nipples jutting.
Ginger sat up and permitted him to rid her of the blouse. His arms trapped her again. Their mouths met. Her breasts ground into his chest, then moved back as their nipples began to ache.
Ginger leaned back. "My bra, lover. Kiss my titties through my bra."
Brand kissed her nipples, first one and then the other, then rasped, "Like this, Ginger?"
Her hips began to twitch. "Yes, oh, yes! Do it some more!
Brand's eager lips and teeth worked the left nipple, then the right, and momentarily Ginger's hips increased their speed as her pussy caught on fire.
"Naked," she said. "Make me all the way naked and then throw a wild fuck into me! Hurry, lover, hurry!"
Brand stopped kissing and gnawing on her bra-covered nippled and sat up. He slid his anxious hands under her buttocks and fumbled for the skirt zipper.
The zipper whispered its own sweet song of lust as he ran it down, and then cloth murmured against flesh as he slid the skirt free of her passion-racked body and sent it flying after the ice-green blouse.
Ginger smiled. "You're getting closer to the goodies, Brand. Don't stop now. Do your thing with my bra."
"Now?" he teased.
"Yes, damn you, now!"
Brand laughed. He fumbled with the bra snaps. The bra broke open a moment later. He jerked the wisp of netting free and Ginger watched her coral-tipped breasts dance into nakedness.
A pleased smile curved her lips. Her breasts were beautiful and very firm.
Brand lost interest in removing her panties for the moment. His lips found and attacked her tits again. He sucked and teethed until she pushed his wet face away from her breasts. "I don't want a cheap come, Brand. Not from your mouth on my titties. I want the real thing. I want you to stick your big juicy cock inside my cunt and ride me into a mind-blowing come."
Brand's hungry hands found her breasts again. "Are you sure, Ginger?"
She was in no mood for teasing. "I'm sure, damn you! I want you to fuck me! Do it, damn you! Take off my panties and bury your big bone in my cunt! Now, lover, now!"
Brand's right hand trailed downward to her panties and a moment later she was free of them. She was naked. And hot.
"Now you," she said throatily. "Now make yourself naked."
Brand stood up and did a fast strip of his own. He grinned at the way her delicate eyebrows arched when his rock-hard cock jumped into view. "Why the surprise, Ginger? You've seen my prick before."
She swallowed hard. "I'd almost forgotten how well endowed you were in the sausage department, lover."
"Does the size scare you?"
"A little."
He sat down beside her and grinned. "It is a fierce-looking rascal, isn't it?"
"I can handle the beautiful bastard."
"We'll soon find out."
Ginger squealed with pleasure as Brand's hand drifted down to her cunt. She told herself that this time it would be different, that this time he would go the distance and throw a fuck into her she would remember for a long, long time.
But first she would make him work for his pussy.
The tip of his finger reached and begged for entry to her tunnel of love, but her locked thighs blocked the way.
Brand glared at her. "Let me in, Ginger."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "You teased me and now it's my turn. Work for it, you dirty dog!"
Brand trapped her jutting clitoris and tweaked it. "Like this? Is this how you want me to work for my pussy, Ginger?"
She squirmed. "Oooh, your hand feels delicious on my button!"
Brand pressed the magic button that caused her legs to open. A few seconds later he climbed into the perfumed saddle and guided the velvety knob of his cock to her moist cunt.
Ginger stiffened. She struggled to keep the phallic serpent from crawling into her hole and inevitably lost the battle, for a few seconds later Brand tucked the knob of his magnificent cock between the dewy lips of her cunt and hunched into her.
Ginger grunted as his cock impaled her cunt. Then she came alive with motion. "Do me, lover, dome!"
Brand went to work on her pussy with his granite-like prick. Hump. Bump. In. Out. Their bodies glistened, writhed. Flesh against flesh. Hot. Damp.
The air-conditioner hummed in the window. It didn't help. They kept sweating, moaning and fucking ...
Ginger's searching mouth found Brand's. Their tongues met, wrestled. Ginger's blood howled inside her skull as he hunched in and out of her. A whisper later it started to happen. Brand stiffened suddenly and a loud moan broke from his throat. She knew what was coming down. Brand's passion reached its peak, then started to jump into neutral as it had jumped the one other time he had tried to fuck her, and now she saw and felt him slipping toward complete impotency. She gritted her teeth.
Not this time, lover. You started fucking me, and by hell you'll finish fucking me! And I do mean finish!
She dug her long fingernails into Brand's motionless hips and made him whimper. The pain revived his dying libido, and momentarily she felt his softening cock start to harden inside her cunt again.
She made him cry out in pain once more, his cock hardened all the way, and now she sensed that he would be able to go the distance with her.
Brand's body came alive with motion once more. Ginger met him thrust for thrust. They slammed into each other. She kept hunching, hunching, hunching ... and then it happened. It crashed down on them in the form of a mutual thudding orgasm ...
"Ah," she whispered huskily as Brand finished filling her cunt with his come and sagged on top of her, "this was worth waiting for."
Brand lifted his sweat-soaked face from between her hot breasts and came to his knees. His softening cock slipped out of her soggy cunt and hit the leather sofa with a dull thud that made him wince.
She reached for his flaccid prick. "Again, lover. Get hard and fuck me again."
"I don't think I can, Ginger."
Ginger stroked his cock and waited for naked lust to roar through him and bring his dead cock back to life. It didn't happen.
"You're wasting your time," Brand said miserably.
Ginger continued to hug his cock and prayed lust would storm him. Her fingers tightened around his rubbery shaft and then her hand began to move up and down over it, but still nothing happened. Disgusted, she stopped pumping his prick, but she didn't release it.
Brand pulled his cock out of her hand. "It's no use, Ginger. I guess I'm too pooped to pop again. I didn't get much rest last night."
"Maybe you'll do better tonight, lover."
Brand climbed out from between her legs and left the black leather sofa. "Yes," he promised, "tonight will be better." He helped her to her feet and gave her a playful slap across the right hip. Then he asked curiously, "Do you like to be spanked, Ginger?"
She answered his question with a question. "Would beating my ass help you to stay in the saddle?"
"Damn sure would!"
"With your hand?"
"With a wooden paddle. I have it out in my car."
"Your mother's paddle?"
"How did you know?"
"Mitch Crocker talks a lot."
Brand's lips tightened slightly. "Mitch Crocker talks too much."
"Piss on Mitch. I'd like to see this paddle of yours."
"You'll see it tonight."
CHAPTER NINE
Brand skidded into a slot in front of THE POUR HOUSE, one of Harbor City's nicer ashtrays, and went inside. Customers were few. One table was occupied by an old hag, and a classy blonde. She somehow reminded him of his mother.
Mother? Brand winced inwardly and shook his head. What the hell was the matter with him? Mother? Christ!
Brand stared and felt a faint stirring in his loins. Beautiful. The perfumed doll who somehow reminded him of his mother was out of this world. Ginger Green was forgotten. If he could somehow get this sex kitten to spend the weekend with him at Moon Lake�
The bartender cut into his erotic reverie by saying, "Hi, Brand. What'll it be�the usual?"
Brand nodded.
The bartender placed a Seabreeze before Brand and asked, "Anything else?"
He nodded toward the midnight-haired girl who continued to remind him of his mother. "Who's the new face, Ed?"
Ed Drake leaned across the bar as though he were about to tell a dirty joke. "Cherie Parten. The old bag with her owns the beauty parlor a few doors down where your mother always goes to get her hair done. Cherie works for her."
"I see. What else do you know about her, Ed?"
"Meaning does she put out?" Ed Drake made a sour face. "If you can believe anything the construction workers around here say, the word is out that Cherie Parten fucks for free and doesn't mind hitting the back seat of a car."
Brand laughed. He dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the bar. "I think I'd like to get tight with Cherie Parten, Ed. Why don't you give her and the old bag a drink on me?"
Ed Drake nodded. "You just lucked out, Brand. The old witch is about to ride her broom back to the shop. Now you can have a clear shot."
"Try, Ed."
Getting Cherie Parten's attention presented no problem. One free drink and she was all smiles. A few whispered words from the bartender and it mattered not one iota that she was four or five years his senior.
The bartender came back to Brand. "I told the bush baby who you were, Brand. It impressed. She wants you to join her."
Brand slid from the barstool and studied Cherie Parten as he walked up to her. She was wearing an animal print dress with a short hemline that brought out the beast in him. Cherie's legs were long and sleek, her butt firm and equally sleek, and her breasts full and pointed. She made his blood leap with excitement and he knew that somehow he would discard Ginger Green and make this exotic hunk of perfumed flesh his date for the weekend.
Cherie Parten smiled at the way his eyes devoured her. "What you're looking at is all me, Brand Foxhill. And I do mean all."
"It would be a bit hard to cheat with that costume you're wearing," Brand said as he perched himself beside her. "You make a nice package, Cherie."
Imps of amusement danced in her dark eyes. "A Christmas package?"
Brand shook his head. "I'd rather have you as a surprise package, Cherie. Who wants to wait until Christmas to open you up?"
Cherie Parten cocked a delicate eyebrow at him. "Is that what you'd like to do�open me up before Christmas?"
"Better than that," he said bluntly. "I'd like to open you up tonight, beautiful person."
Cherie Parten didn't lose her cool. "Blunt bastard, aren't you, big boy? But I suppose you can afford to be."
"What makes you think so?"
Cherie made a derisive sound. "Come off it, big boy. Ed Drake told me who you are. Besides, I know your mother and there is a slight resemblance between thee and she. I did her hair this morning. She's a very beautiful bird ... and generous with the tip."
Brand studied the girl and frowned thoughtfully. Cherie Parten had a dollar sign in each eye. Something was out of joint here. Badly out of joint. Ed Drake had called Cherie Parten a free fuck. She sure as hell wasn't acting like one.
For one flickering moment Brand was tempted to get up and walk away from Cherie Parten, but the ache in his groin increased. He wanted her ... and he intended to have her. If she wanted money ...
"I can be a lot more generous than my mother," Brand said as he ditched his cigarette and watched her closely. "A weekend with me and you'll be able to visit and spend at the most expensive boutique in town."
"Oh?" A hint of sarcasm crept into Cherie's voice. "Your mother must give you a pretty big allowance."
Brand's lips tightened in the beginning of anger. The alley rabbit was making him feel like a bum living on handouts from Mother. It burned his ass and made him careless. He fisted the roll of money in his pocket and wagged it under her nose. "There's nine thousand dollars in this wad, Cherie. How many cats do you know who carry that much of an allowance in their jeans?"
Cherie took a deep breath. "Hang loose, Brand. I was only teasing you about being on the dole."
He pocketed the fat roll of currency and grinned. "Let it pass, Cherie. It's just that I'm a bit touchy today about a few things that have nothing to do with what you just said. How about another blast of whatever you're drinking?"
Her eyes found his. "Why don't you start the date now by taking me to some nice hot pillow joint?"
"Hot pillow joint? You sound like a whore. Are you a whore, Cherie?"
"The Miami police seemed to think so when they busted and ran my ass out of their Mafia-ridden city because I didn't work in a Mafia-owned house, but I prefer to think of myself as a pleasure engineer."
Brand shook his head. "Well, if you're no longer a whore, you're a first-class chick. A first-class chick deserves to fly first class. Ever been to Moon Lake?"
"No. What's there?"
"A cottage. Loaded with all the creature comforts. It's isolated ... and it eliminates the risk of getting caught with our clothes off in a chickenshit motel raid."
Cherie picked up her drink. "Sounds like an ideal place for an orgy."
"And that's what I have in mind. How about it, Cherie? Do we swing?"
Cherie downed her drink in one gulp and slid from her perch with a bounce of breasts. She reached out and patted his hand. "Give me a second with Ed Drake, Brand. I want to leave word with him for my boss in the event that she comes on the hunt for me. Okay?"
Brand shrugged. "Do it."
She treated him to an exaggerated wink. "That's my lover. I won't be a minute."
Brand stood near the exit with a hard-on. He couldn't hear what she was telling the bartender but he didn't really give a damn. Cherie finished and trotted over to his side with an exaggerated movement of her hips. "Let's start truckin', Brand."
* * *
Brand left the main highway. He dropped a hand to Cherie Parten's dimpled knee and said, "If your thirst starts acting up, there's a pint of premixed vodka under the seat."
Cherie lifted her dark eyes from the hand on her knee to his face and smiled. "I can wait. I don't like to drink alone."
Brand squeezed her warm thigh. "I'm hep. I don't like to do anything alone."
"Like play with yourself?"
Brand's lips twisted as he shot her a quick look. "Play with myself? I thought you learned all of the gutter expressions?"
"I did." Cherie laughed. "Let me count the ways. When a man masturbates he could be pulling his pud, loping his mule, cuffing his carrot, yanking his yang, jerking off or beating his meat. If that isn't enough, there's always the act of fucking Minnie."
"Minnie?"
"That's right, Minnie. As minnie fingers as he can get around his cock."
Brand chuckled. "Now you sound normal again."
Cherie placed his hand against the warm webbing of her panties before she asked teasingly, "Do I feel normal?"
"Let me check." His middle finger slipped in behind the crotch of her panties and caressed her pubic moss. He flicked the same finger against her jutting clit, then inserted it between the damp lips of her cunt. "You feel nice, but far from normal."
Cherie squirmed over the finger that impaled her cunt. "Blame it on the heat, lover."
"Sun heat?"
"Finger heat."
"You're burning up?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"I'll cool you off when we reach Moon Lake."
Cherie snuggled closer and nipped at his earlobe. "Keep doing that with your finger and we might never reach that damn lake."
Brand chuckled and removed his finger from her moist cunt. "Restrain yourself, passionate person. The Moon Lake cutoff is dead ahead. A few minutes of bumpy road and we'll be where I can do the both of us some good."
They reached the cutoff a few minutes later and Brand swung the Mercedes into it. The road was narrow, all limerock and deeply rutted. He slowed down to a crawl and said, "Another mile of this mess and we'll be there, Cherie."
"Thanks for telling me. I'll hold back until then before I rape you."
A few minutes later he skidded to a stop in front of the lone cottage that shouldered the lip of the lake that would one day become polluted and surrounded by his mother's houses.
Brand killed the motor and studied the midnight-haired girl who sat with her skirt bunched around her hips, her white bikini panties gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. "We don't really need the rain, but let's go inside and fuck up a storm."
Cherie licked her ripe red lips. "I have a more pregnant idea, Brand. Let's go down to the edge of the lake and do our number there."
"Sounds good to me. Want me to rustle up a pair of bathing suits?"
"Who came here to swim?"
"Not this tiger," Brand replied as he followed Cherie Parten around the Mercedes and raced her toward the edge of the rumpled water. "The only thing I care to drown in is your body. Come here, wench."
Cherie laughed and walked into his waiting arms. Brand mashed his lips to hers and felt his cock harden. Cherie squirmed and insinuated her breasts against his chest. Her tits flattened, nipples hard. Brand wasted no time. He lifted Cherie's feet from the sun-bleached sand and held her suspended for a breathless moment. Then, slowly, he sank and brought her down with him to the slightly damp sand.
Cherie stretched out on her back and smiled at him. "As they say in the game of checkers, it's your move, lover."
Brand sat up beside her. His big hand crept along the inner path of her thighs until it reached the warmth of her tight white bikini panties. He slipped his finger between the dewy lips of her cunt for the second time and made her tremble.
"Damn you," Cherie hissed. "Stop teasing me with your finger and feed me that big sausage of yours!"
Brand's long stiff finger backed out of Cherie's surprisingly tight little pouch. She lifted her buttocks as he hiked the animal print dress free of them. Then she sat up, arms high above her head, and permitted him to remove it.
Down to her heels, bra and panties, Cherie dropped to the sand again. "I'm hot to trot, lover. Fuck me!"
Cherie's words excited Brand, but not enough, for once again he felt his penis start to sag inside his pants. Still, he kept going. Grimly. He tossed the animal print dress aside and attempted to renew his ardor by caressing her vibrant body. Cherie began making small sounds deep in the back of her throat. His hands were scorching her. He kept going.
Would words help? Brand gave it a whirl. "I know this won't be the first time you've heard it, but I swear to heaven your big tits are the prettiest I've ever seen."
Cherie seemed to sense the strange mood that rode him. "My titties are even prettier without the bra, lover. The nipples are long and pink. Suckable nipples. Kissable nipples."
"Show me."
"That's a man's job," Cherie murmured as she sat up beside him. She smiled wickedly. "You do the unveiling. Have at it, lover."
Brand's slightly quaking hands moved to the snaps of Cherie's bra and a moment later her breasts tumbled into nakedness. Cherie stretched. Brand felt her shiver as he palmed her heaving breasts and tweaked her long nipples. Cherie moaned.
"Bottoms up," Brand rasped.
Cherie lifted her ass from the sand and momentarily the white bikini panties went flying after her dress and half bra.
"In the nude and in the mood," Cherie said, her voice lifting a little. "Now you, lover. Jump out of your threads. Hurry!"
Brand scrambled to his feet and clawed at his clothing, but even as he did so he felt his prick becoming softer and softer.
It was happening again! The shadow of his mother was hovering over him ...
"Easy does it, lover," Cherie said as she reached up for his sagging cock and drew him down beside her. "Losing your muscle is no big deal. I know how to get it hard again." She coiled her slender fingers around his limber dick and proceeded to stroke him. "Hang loose, lover, hang loose."
Frustration piled up in Brand. "I can't. My cock is up-tight. I feel as though someone has tied a tourniquet around the damn thing."
Not someone. His mother ...
"Don't come unglued," Cherie said as she sat up. "Take my place and let me do the work. I know how to untie the big rascal and make him mad enough to spit a hot load of come."
Brand stretched out on the sand. "Help me, Cherie, help me."
Cherie's breasts blazed hotly against Brand's chest as she dropped her mouth to his and shot her moist pink tongue between his slightly parted lips. The tip of her tongue caressed the roof of his inner mouth, but still nothing happened.
Cherie stopped French kissing him and tried another avenue of approach. He felt her move away. Her dimpled knee crossed his stomach and dropped into the sand. A moment later she was straddling him. Brand held his breath and waited for a sexual miracle to occur. His cock remained soft as a wet noodle.
Cherie clutched his flaccid flesh and tucked it between the damp lips of her cunt ... all the way.
"Hang loose," she echoed. "I know what has to be done. It won't take long to get you in the mood again."
Brand tried to concentrate on the pussy that now imprisoned his completely dead cock, but still nothing happened.
He watched Cherie closely. She squatted over him now. Cherie's mouth was open slightly, her breathing labored. Brand lay rigid. His fingers should have been gouging at her flesh, hurting her. They weren't.
"Go loose, lover, go loose."
Her breasts quaked violently as she lifted her buttocks, then brought them down again in an attempt to excite and harden the penis that filled her burning box. Brand watched her move up and down, down and up, and momentarily he began to feel his cock stretch and harden inside her once more.
Cherie felt it, too. "Sand fleas be damned, today we ride!"
Cherie's passion mounted with each up and down movement of her hips and haunches. Her head was back, red lips were parted, and now her eyes were beginning to glaze. Brand knew why. Cherie had passed into the dimension of flaming lust, and the flames were licking and threatening to devour her in the heat called orgasm.
Cherie kept working. Bouncing. Up and down, down and up. Moaning.
And then the flames of passion consumed her. She sat frozen over the cock that filled her cunt. Then she uncoiled and shuddered her way to fulfillment. Brand should have joined her in a come, but he didn't. He couldn't. The tourniquet was on his penis ... again.
Cherie finished her devastating climax and his cock fell free from her pussy. She stood up and stepped clear of his body, then dropped to her knees beside him.
"Don't sweat it, lover. There's more than one way to skin the phallic cat."
Cherie ignored Brand's silence and clutched his penis with both hands. He watched, waited. A moment later Cherie's head dipped toward his cock. She planted a kiss on the glistening knob, then stretched her lips and took him inside her mouth.
Brand came alive with sound and motion. "Yes, baby, that should do the trick. Suck me, suck me. Harder, Cherie, harder!"
Cherie responded. Her lips tightened around the suddenly throbbing shaft that filled her mouth, her teeth nipped, and a few seconds later Brand shuddered his way through a mind-blowing release.
He relaxed with a loud and satisfied sigh. It was over. Just like that. Drained ...
Brand smiled sheepishly. "I feel like a damn fool."
Cherie grasped his penis and proceeded to stroke him with a tight fist. "You feel like a lot of man to me, lover, but nothing like a fool."
Cherie was being kind. Brand knew it. He got up. "It's getting dark and chilly. We'd better go inside the cottage."
Brand unlocked the cottage and snapped on the lights. Cherie stepped up beside him and glanced around the elaborate vacation pad. She whistled. "Some people sure know how to live."
The fire was built, drinks were mixed, passed, quaffed. Their hips nuzzled each other and once in a while Brand lifted a hand to cup and fondle Cherie's beautiful breasts.
Cherie gave a delicate little shudder as he touched her naked breasts again. "Let me know when you feel like another blowjob, lover."
Brand downed his drink and leered at her. "I'm ready now, pussycat."
Cherie took his limp member in her hand and shook it. "You don't feel ready, lover."
Brand felt his cock stretch and stiffen in Cherie's hot little hand. He grinned. "Care to retract that last statement, pussycat?"
"Full speed ahead," Cherie laughed as she dipped her head and kissed the tip of his turgid cock.
Cherie's breasts pressed against Brand's thigh as she took his rock-hard cock inside her mouth for the second time.
"Go, pussycat, go!"
Cherie went. Her greedy lips tightened around his throbbing cock and her milk-white teeth nipped to send shock thrills through every nerve in his system.
Brand got turned on all the way. Eyes glazed as he started flirting with another eruption.
It was madness in overdrive. Sweet madness.
"Harder, Cherie, harder!"
Cherie obeyed. Lips tensed. Teeth nipped. Flesh touched flesh. Her hot breasts mashed against his thigh each time her head dropped to take him deep inside her mouth. Senses came alive.
"I'm getting there," Brand said, his voice labored and jerky. "Won't take much more. A few more sucks should do it. Hard. Suck me real hard. Yes, yes, like that! Damn, damn, that feels so good! No, don't stop! Do me up brown! Make me explode, make me explode!"
Cherie's mouth came down on his cock. Then up. Then down again. Teeth nipping.
"Go, Cherie, go!"
Head bobbing, back arching, her nails digging into his scrotum, now bringing a loud wailing moan out of him with each determined suck.
"Suck, Cherie, suck!"
Lips trapping his shaft. Smudging it with lipstick. Making it appear bruised. Lips tightening. Dancing over it. Up. Down. Slipping and gliding.
Brand ignored the sweat that burned his eyes and kept climbing. Higher and higher. Getting closer and closer. Almost making it. Almost ... but not quite.
"Cherie! Goddamn it, bring me all the way home!"
Cherie sucked and gnawed on his cock. Cherie toyed with his balls.
Nothing happened.
"Harder, Cherie, suck me harder!"
Teeth raked his cock. Nothing happened.
Guts knotted into a hard ball as a deep fear hit him. Maybe he would be unable to pop his nuts!
"Don't leave me hanging by my thumbs," Brand begged loudly. "Please don't leave me hanging by my thumbs!"
Cherie worked frantically. Slurping and more slurping. Finding every nerve in his reluctant cock and still searching for others. Head bobbing. Up and down, up and down. Sucking him.
Devouring him. Greedily. She was a cannibal. And he the main course.
"Now, Cherie, now!"
And now it was.
Almost.
Brand was a mere whisper away from blowing his mind and getting his rocks off in Cherie's mouth again when the front door of the cottage burst open and a deep cold voice growled, "All right, kids�the orgy's over!"
CHAPTER TEN
Denise Crocker was fifteen minutes late when she arrived for her weekend at the Foxhill beach house.
She was attired in short shorts with matching halter, and drum majorette boots�all the color of virgin snow. The short shorts fit so snug that even the gentle swelling of her Venus mound showed, and the halter was a semi-cup affair that barely concealed the tips of her heavy breasts and left the upper slopes exposed in all their glorious nakedness. White boots were calfskin, low-heeled.
Denise gave her shoulder-length honey hair a final pat. She reached out to goose the doorbell button. She silently hoped that Arab Foxhill would devour her juicy cunt.
For the whole weekend.
Arab Foxhill answered the door on the third ring. She appeared to be a bit tipsy. Arab looked ravishing. And slightly pissed. She stepped aside to let Denise enter. "You're late."
Denise's smile was quick. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Foxhill. I didn't mean to be late. Blame it on this costume I'm wearing. I wanted to look stunning for my first meeting with you in ages." The right tone, the right words.
Arab's dark eyes caressed. "And stunning you are, Denise. I can readily understand why Brand enjoyed gorging himself on you."
Denise felt a sudden chill creep over her. Arab Foxhill wasn't wasting any time in bringing the subject of her son and last night to a head. "It won't happen again, Mrs. Foxhill. Not without your approval."
They went into the living room where drinks were waiting. Arab handed one to Denise. "What makes you think I'll give my approval to anything that concerns you and my son?"
"The invitation you sent me."
Arab's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"
Denise sat down on the sofa and crossed her shapely legs. "You never sent any to the other girls you bought or frightened away from Brand."
"I see." Arab sampled her screwdriver. "And this tells you what?"
Denise took a deep and deliberate breath that disturbed her breasts. "That maybe there's hope for my having a future with your son."
Arab looked at her shrewdly. "As his wife?"
Denise nodded. "With your permission, of course."
"Of course." Arab smiled suddenly. "Well, we have the entire weekend to discuss my son's future ... and yours ... and to get re-acquainted with each other. I wanted it this way, Denise. That's why I sent your father to Key West."
"I know."
"I'm sure you do." Arab's voice turned sly. "And you also know that Brand flew away from the nest this morning. Why didn't you fly away with him?"
Denise wet her lips. "I told you ... I'm not interested in doing anything without your full approval, Mrs. Foxhill."
Arab finished her drink and put the glass aside. "I'm flattered. I'm also beginning to see that I've underestimated you." She paused, nodded as though to herself. "You and Brand? Hmmm. The possibilities intrigue me. But enough of this idle chit-chat for now. Drink up and then we'll do our thing about getting to know each other all over again."
Denise lifted the glass to her lips. "I'd like that, Mrs. Foxhill. I really and truly would like that."
Arab refilled their glasses. Her back was turned for a minute. A slow heat crept up Denise's throat as she studied Arab. The same heat reached her face. She felt like throwing up her hands and walking away from this entire mess, but the thought of Daddy and his job held her tight. And there was still the remote possibility of getting Arab's permission to go the distance with Brand.
Be nice to Arab, Daddy had told her. Be nice ...
A shiver iced through Denise's body. She had never gone the lesbian route before ...
Arab handed Denise a fresh drink and joined her on the sofa. Their hips touched and Arab's sharp intake of breath warned Denise that the show was about to get on the road. Denise's flesh curled and tingled and leaped.
Arab broke the silence. "About Brand ... " Arab placed a hand on Denise's naked thigh and gave it an affectionate pat. "I don't want just any girl to get near my son, Denise. I want a girl who doesn't mind being nice to me once in a while, too."
Denise began to tremble. "Nice? In what way, Mrs. Foxhill?"
Arab patted her thigh. "Arab. Call me Arab."
"All right ... Arab."
Arab's fingers crept toward the crotch of Denise's short shorts. "Now, about being nice to me ...
Denise's mind flitted back to the rainy afternoon her toothless uncle had conned her into eating his cock for a counterfeit silver dollar. She writhed against the hand on her cloth-covered cunt. "Tell me what to do."
Arab stood up. "I'd rather show you what to do, baby, but not here. My servants might walk in and die of shock. Let's retire to my bedroom."
Once inside the bedroom Arab dropped her shapely ass on the edge of the king-size bed. She was silent.
The silence was unnerving, and now Denise broke it by saying, "What do you want me to do, Arab?"
"I want you to tell me about the sexual happening that came down between you and my son last night."
Denise blinked and cringed inwardly. The bitch was being suddenly vicious. "What's to tell? We did our thing, nothing more."
"What thing? Or rather, what things?"
Denise was afraid. She pulled back. She swallowed hard. She was beginning to understand.
The tables were being turned.
How stupid to think that Arab Foxhill would let her off the hook so easily.
"I'm waiting," Arab snapped. "What happened between you and Brand last night?"
Denise forced herself to speak. "What's to tell? Brand fucked me in the ass, I sucked his cock, and that's it in a nutshell."
Blood drained from Arab's face. "And afterwards you talked and persuaded Brand to walk out on me."
"That's not true, Arab."
"I don't believe you, doll." Arab's open hand cracked against Denise's cheek, snapping her head to one side. "Try again, and this time tell me the truth. You put Brand up to walking out on me, didn't you?"
The slap excited Denise. She felt her nipples come awake behind the white halter.
Arab punched her in the stomach.
Denise doubled over, gasping. Then she backed away, hands upraised in feeble protest. "No, I didn't lie, Arab! I told you the truth!"
"Liar, liar!"
Arab gripped Denise's shoulders and whirled her around, causing their breasts to collide, sending a fresh charge of lust shooting into Denise's already excitement-heated loins.
Denise moved against Arab's breasts and her arms coiled around the woman in a fierce embrace. The heady scent of Arab's perfume made her head swim. She was suddenly confused, frightened anew.
Arab forced her down onto the king-size bed. Then, slowly, the woman stepped back and slowly proceeded to disrobe. She removed the baby pink dress and then reached back to unfasten her bra. Her big breasts danced into nakedness and Denise's eyes devoured her stabbing nipples. She was frightened ... and fascinated.
Arab pushed the panties down past her hips. When she straightened, Denise's glance dropped to the triangular mat of dark hair below her pouting navel. Denise trembled. She had never seen a naked woman this close before.
Arab smiled malevolently. "And now for you, little doll."
Denise licked her lips. "W-what are y-you g-going to d-do to m-me?"
"Nothing," Arab snapped as she tugged the short shorts free of Denise's body, then did the same thing to her matching halter. "You took care of my son, and now you'll take care of me."
"H-how?"
"By feeding on me."
Denise stared at the pubic mop between Arab's shapely legs. "I don't think I can do it, Arab. I've never gone that route before. Please don't make me put the tongue to your cunt."
Menace drenched Arab's voice. "Would you prefer a taste of the whip I have in my closet?"
"N-no."
"Then do as I command and tongue me."
Denise's voice dripped with misery. "I can't. I don't know how to go down on another woman's cunt."
Arab's naked breasts heaved wildly and her eyes turned almost luminous. "You had damn well better start learning ... or you and your father can both kiss the job he has with Foxhill Enterprises good-by."
The words jarred Denise. There! It was out in the open! The one threat she hadn't wanted to hear!
"All right, Arab, you win."
"I usually do," Arab said acidly. "On your back, little doll."
Denise hesitated.
"Now, you little bitch."
Denise flopped to her back. Arab stretched out beside her. Her big breasts hovered over Denise's mouth. She moved the right nipple into place. The breast dipped and a hard nipple found its way between Denise's lips.
"Feeding time," Arab said coldly. "Start sucking on my tit."
Denise closed her eyes and proceeded to teethe on the breast pressing hotly against her face. The room turned into a blur, and so did her mind. Time lost its meaning as desire took over, and in a few moments she felt her head being forced downward toward the domineering woman's bushy cunt ...
The doorbell chimes sounded, breaking the weird spell. Arab stiffened. "What the hell�?"
Arab leaped from the bed, breasts bouncing. She dressed quickly and started to leave the room. She paused at the door and glared at Denise, then snapped, "I'll get back to you, little bitch. Stay put."
Denise sat up, nodded numbly. Arab scooted out of the bedroom.
Denise left the rumpled bed and crept to the door. She heard Arab Foxhill's voice, and then another woman's. The caller was Ginger Green!
Denise's face registered shock. Why wasn't Ginger out at Moon Lake with Brand?
Arab's voice lifted suddenly. "Denise, come here at once!"
Denise didn't take time to reach for her shorts and halter. She trotted out to join Arab and Ginger Green, attired in nothing except her white boots.
"What is it, Arab?" Denise asked.
Arab's stormy eyes locked with hers. "Did you know about Brand and Moon Lake when you came here this evening?"
Denise started to lie, changed her mind, nodded. "I knew. He was supposed to take Ginger with him."
Arab nodded in Ginger Green's direction. "This bitch left the office early to prepare herself for an orgy with my son, and as she drove by she saw Brand leaving the Pour House in the company of another bitch."
"So?"
"Ginger doesn't know who the girl was. Do you?"
Denise shook her head.
Arab's lips tightened. "If you're lying to me�"
Denise broke in angrily. "What in the hell is the matter with you, Arab? Can't you see past that fucking blind spot you have for your son to recognize the truth when you hear it?"
Arab blanched. "I'm beginning to see a lot of things tonight. For one thing, I'm beginning to see that I'm surrounded by enemies. I won't have it. This is my corner of the world and you two greedy sluts don't belong in it." She turned to jerk a velvet ceiling cord that brought Lil Wheat on the run. "Lil, you know where we keep petty cash. Give these two ladies five hundred dollars each and see to it that they find their way to the road leaving town."
Lil Wheat nodded and left the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Arab stood in the dark kitchen and watched Cherie Parten jerk Brand's cock out of her mouth and roll away from him the instant she heard the intruder speak. During this same jolting second she saw Brand's manhood wilt as he shot to his feet and faced the man who stood silhouetted in the open doorway, grinning like a gargoyle. Arab's eyes widened in surprise. It was her own bartender from THE POUR HOUSE ... Ed Drake!
Cherie Parten's presence she could understand, but what the hell was Ed Drake doing here?
Cherie Parten scrambled to her feet and snapped, "Damn it, Ed, what kept you so long? Doing my thing to keep this carnival creature entertained isn't my idea of having a wild time." She smiled malevolently and pointed at Brand's drooping cock. "This so-called man can't seem to do his number in the normal way. Cripes, talk about a weirdo!"
"Pull in your claws, pussycat," Ed Drake snapped back. "I'd have been here sooner but my relief showed up 'a little late." He shifted his attention to Brand. "Stay loose, freak, and nothing bad will happen to you. All we want is your bankroll."
Arab saw Brand clench his fists and heard him snarl, "Who the hell do you think you're calling a freak, you dirty sonofabitch?"
Cherie Parten hissed, "He's calling you a freak, freak."
A warped smile appeared on Ed Drake's face as he stepped up to Brand. "That's who I'm calling a freak, pal�you. I'm also telling you for the last time to forget about coming on heavy and stay loose. I don't want to break you like a dry stick. Neither does Cherie. All we're after is that big roll of bread you flashed in the bar this afternoon."
Arab saw Brand open his mouth to yell something at Ed Drake, but the words refused to tear past his lips. Sudden fear gripped him. Blind fear. She could see it in his eyes and on his face. She watched, waited, wondered. Why couldn't he defend himself against this bastard who was cutting him down? The truth jumped out at her. Brand didn't have the guts to stand up to Ed Drake.
Cherie Parten scooted across the room and rummaged through the clothing Brand had piled on a chair near the front door. Arab watched the girl's face turn into a mask of greediness as she quickly extracted a thick roll of money from the pocket of Brand's sport coat and wagged it at her partner.
"Jackpot, Ed," she squealed. "Nine thousand slices of bread. Enough to take us far down the old freeway and tide us over until we find another mark like this one to skin."
Ed Drake chuckled.
Brand stood frozen in his tracks. Arab could tell that he hated the bad scene unfolding before him, but at the same time she saw the fear that kept him from trying to do something about it.
Cherie wagged the money at Brand. "Like taking candy from a little baby. That's all you really are, you know�a fucking babe in the woods." She laughed. Then she sobered abruptly and frowned at Ed Drake. "I just thought of something, Ed. Maybe this sucker has more bread stashed somewhere. Did you check his Mercedes?"
Ed Drake nodded. "I shook it down from asshole to elbow. Ditto for his Samsonites. Zilch. But I fixed his beast so he can't tail us with it. How about here?"
Cherie shook her head. "I cased this place while sissy here started the fire. No cash, and nothing small that's worth carrying off." She nodded toward Brand. "How about dum-dum's watch and ring? They're probably worth a few thousand."
Ed Drake made a derisive sound. "Fuck the freak's jewelry. I don't like messing with that stuff. Let's settle for the cash and split, pussycat."
"Right on." Cherie started dressing. Then she looked directly at Brand. "What about this carnival creature, Ed? Are we simply going to walk out of here and give him the opportunity to do a rabbit number to the nearest phone and blow the whistle on us?"
Ed Drake's voice sounded tight as he growled, "What the fuck do you want me to do�cancel him?"
A sickness ate at Arab's stomach. They were talking about Brand as though he were among the missing ... and Brand was letting them!
Cherie loaded her bra with breasts and shook her head. "This sorry excuse for a man isn't worth wasting, Ed, but we should tie his ass up to insure a clean getaway."
Arab took a quick breath and prepared herself to do battle with these two sorry creatures who were rolling Brand, but the battle was postponed as she saw Brand cock his arm and fire a handful of fist toward Ed Drake's jaw.
He was fast but not fast enough, for Ed Drake brushed the punch aside and then buried a fist of his own in Brand's stomach.
Arab winced as she watched Brand drop to the floor on this ass, hard.
Ed Drake towered over Brand. "A big cock doesn't make for a big man, freak, but I think you need to be convinced of that. Get up!"
Do it, darling, Arab's mind screamed at Brand. Get up and beat the living shit out of him!
It didn't happen.
Brand remained seated on the floor, back to the crackling fire. His face was a mask of shame and pain.
"Off your ass and on your feet, freak!"
Brand's arms hung limply at his sides and he made no attempt to lift them as Ed Drake backed him into the nearest corner and went to work on him with his hammy fists.
Slamming. Bruising. Hurting.
"Beg, freak, beg!"
"Keep slugging him, Ed!" Cherie Parten shrilled. "Your fists banging into him are turning me on! Put the big hurt on this sorry excuse for a man and make me cream my cunt all over my legs! Break him, break him!"
Arab felt every blow he took, and the pain chewed into her body until it became almost unbearable. Her soul sickened.
Fight back, Brand, fight back!
Brand didn't.
"Beg, freak, beg!"
Brand sounded like a sick frog as he croaked, "Fuck you!"
"You aren't man enough to fuck me," Ed Drake snarled as he battered Brand to his knees. "You'll never be man enough for anything."
Cherie Parten laughed wildly.
Arab winced as Ed Drake kicked Brand in the ribs. "I don't think the ropes will be necessary now, Cherie. Why waste the fucking time? This gutless punk won't be in any shape to blow the whistle on us until sometime tomorrow, if he's lucky, and by then we'll be long gone from this neck of the swamp."
"Like hell you will," Arab said as she stepped from the kitchen, eyes cold, breasts trembling in anger, claws bared for battle. "By tomorrow the only place you two sorry bastards will be is in jail."
"Well, well," Ed Drake said, "look who's here, Cherie�the little emotional cripple's crutch. How long have you been tuned in on us, lady moneybags?"
"Long enough to see what you did to Brand, you miserable sonofabitch."
"What I did to the punk is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you, Mrs. Foxhill," Ed Drake snarled as he reached out and dug his fingers into her shoulders. "I've always wondered how it would feel to throw a fuck into your expensive cunt. Tonight I'm going to find out. Come here."
Arab saw Brand wobble to his feet as she attempted to twist away from the strong fingers biting into her shoulders. Ed Drake's hands lost their grip. A curse ripped past his snarling lips as he hooked his fingers into the V of her white blouse and yanked; buttons popped free and the blouse gaped wide to reveal her loaded half bra.
"Damn you," Arab hissed, breasts bouncing in anger, "keep your filthy hands off of me!"
"No way, rich bitch," Ed Drake rasped as he reached for her again. "I'm going to put the prick to you, and there ain't nobody in this room big enough to stop me."
"That's what you think, you rotten sonofabitch!" Brand snapped as he charged across the room and cold cocked Ed Drake with a savage fist to the forehead.
Ed Drake dropped like a sack of wet shit. He was unconscious before his face kissed the floor.
Cherie Parten recognized a lost cause when she saw one and bolted toward the front door. She never made it. Arab watched Brand fist the girl's hair and spin her around to face him. He cocked his arm to strike her, then changed his mind. His expression was dead and cold as he shoved her away from himself. "You and your jock can bug off down the highway, but not with my money, Cherie." He plucked the roll of bills from her hand.
Cherie Parten's asscheeks flashed as she gathered up the rest of her clothing and started to leave.
Brand jerked a thumb toward the unconscious Ed Drake. "Take your damn garbage with you."
Cherie Parten dropped down beside the unmoving man and slowly revived him. Ed Drake wobbled to his feet and glared at Brand. He opened his mouth to say something but Cherie broke in quickly by saying, "Forget it, Ed. The goldfish just turned into a shark."
They left.
Arab stood in the center of the room, blouse torn, bra-covered breasts heaving with excitement, her face and voice reflecting concern as she asked, "Are you all right, Brand?"
He nodded somberly. "I am now."
She smiled timidly. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
A note of admiration crept into her voice. "The way you zapped that damn Ed Drake was something I never expected to see, Brand. I was really surprised when you came unglued."
"This seems to be a night for surprises," Brand said wryly. "I never expected to see you here tonight." He paused for a moment. "But I'm glad you came, Mother."
Hope was a brightness in Arab's deep midnight eyes. "Are you really, darling?"
Brand nodded again. "I really am glad you came after me tonight, Mother," he said tenderly. "I'll show you how much in a few minutes." He waved her toward the sofa. "Park it and make yourself comfortable. I have to go outside and get something from my car."
"Whatever you say, darling."
* * *
Arab stood with her back to the crackling flames. A feeling of pride washed over her. No weakling here. Standing before her was a man in every sense of the word, one who had fought to protect her from violation at the cruel hands of Ed Drake. Her heart ached. She longed to strip naked, to draw him between her legs and encase his long fat cock in her willing cunt ... and keep it encased there forever.
Arab sensed the uncertainty that gripped him. She searched carefully for the correct words. "Something magnificent happened to you tonight, Brand. Don't let that magnificent something drop dead at your feet."
"It won't drop dead. I know what I'm doing." A humble note crept into his voice. "All my life I've been a taker, Mother. I think it's time I started doing some giving back." He walked up to her, hands still behind his back. His eyes met hers and held them steadily. Then he brought his hands into view and placed the cypress paddle in hers. "I believe this belongs to you, Mother."
Arab nodded.
Brand wet his lips. His eyes never left her face. He spoke haltingly. "After the stupid way I've acted ... the things I've done to hurt you ... if you want to use that damn paddle on my ass ... I won't try to stop you."
Arab shook her head, smiled. "I don't want you for a slave, darling. I never did want you as a slave. To quote Lil Wheat, who is probably standing in the kitchen at this very moment with Mrs. Grabowski, listening to every word we utter, 'Love is a lot of things but love isn't ownership.' Do you understand what I'm trying to say to you?"
"I think so," Brand answered as his deeply tanned face softened in a smile and his long fat cock hardened in desire. "You're telling me that passion without compassion isn't worth the bed it's made on. You're telling me that you'd rather lay than flay."
"That's right," Arab laughed musically as she turned toward the fireplace and dropped the cypress paddle into the crackling and dancing flames. Her breath was warm on his chest and then his belly as she dropped to her knees before him and gripped his rock-hard prick with both hands. She kissed his beautiful cockhead, then purred, "So start laying, darling."
"That is precisely what I intend to do, my wonderful wanton," Brand replied huskily as he dropped to his own knees and pushed the leather vest free of her upper torso, then yanked at the half bra and tumbled her long-nippled breasts into nakedness. "Just as soon as I remove these tight panties of yours so I can get at your sweet and juicy cunt with my cock."
Arab released her grip on his cock and stretched out on her back to make it easy for him. She lifted her ass while he peeled the panties downward and exposed her cunt, then sat up and smiled dreamily while he tugged them clear of her ankles and tossed them on top of the burning cypress paddle. A moment later she stretched out on her back again and spread her legs to accept the greatest gift she could ever hope to receive�the gift of Brand's flesh.
Brand scooted between her legs, gently eased his magnificent prick into her cunt. He smiled down at her and said tenderly, "Mother, I'm home."
"It's where you've always belonged, you darling man," Arab murmured passionately as she tightened her cunt lips around the deliciously strong cock that filled her and brought her hips into play. Her dark eyes swam in tears of happiness. She breathed deeply. Her breasts surged upward, firm and high, pushing at him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pressed her warm lips close to his ear. "And now that you are home ... stay as long as you like."
