The human psyche being what it is, it is amazing even to think casually on the vast differences in personality between each individual on the face of the earth. When one considers that all the experiences of one's life, from birth thereafter, go into the making of the personality of each person, it is easy enough to understand that no two humans on earth are exactly alike. Especially in the light of the fact that each experience is interpreted in a different way by everyone, so that, let us say, the experience of feeling a strong gust of wind can affect one person one way and another in a completely different way. So too, with more traumatic experiences.
A brutal rape, such as the one Karen, the hypothetical heroine in this book suffers as a young girl will, undoubtedly, have unforeseen and lasting effects on any young victim, but depending on the unfortunate girl, the effect may or may not be even exaggerated. Such an exaggerated case is minutely examined by Clare Williams, in this, her latest book, and must surely strike a chord of sympathy somewhere in all of us.
Picture it: a young girl, sensitive and introverted, taunted by siblings and stepmother, subjected to the inhuman sexual demands of a brutal stepbrother. Years pass, and enter Don, the husband. Rough and ready, coarsened by years of debauchery of all kinds, desensitized by his experiences of war and Army life. Naturally, Karen is unable to accept his particular brand of masculinity and all it implies - she is repulsed by him, undoubtedly due to her terrifying initiation into a distorted meaning of womanhood. Along comes Champ - an immature version of Don, but a younger one with whom she can more readily identify.
Miss Williams painstakingly traces the rea sons for the path which Karen's life eventually follows, when she can only equate sexual enjoyment with adolescent brutality.
It is, of course, obvious that Karen's mistake lay in her choice of husband. Had she found a more understanding, gentler type of man, her teen-age experience might have faded into a nightmare of the past, but her marital error started the wheels turning for a constant repetition of her violent deflowering.
How easily it could happen to any of us! It would only take a later experience to violate the memory of an earlier one and voile! We could be completely different than we are now, and who knows? We could be better people - or worse!
THE PUBLISHERS
Chapter 1
"Hey Bella! I'm next!" Don Cook shouted gleefully, running with his prick held lewdly between his clenched fingers, over to where the statuesque blond was disentangling herself from the grateful hugs of his friend, Bill Barlow, whose now-limp cock lay like a dozing worm between his legs.
"Okay honey!" Bella laughed, giving Don a playful push, which, in his highly inebriated state, caused him to fall back on the bed beside Bill, who was still basking in the aftermath of his wonderful release of shooting hot sperm into Bella's velvety mouth.
Bill's a real winner, Don thought now as he settled back on the bed, hiring Bella for my stag party! Bella leaned over him and immediately began coaxing his cock into even greater inflation with her buttersoft lips, and Don thought sadly that this would probably be the last night he'd have out with his buddies for a long time. His eyes avidly appraised the girl who was laboring over his tumultuous prick and once again he felt a wave of gratitude to his best buddy, Bill, the host of his all-melt-only party. Her creamy skin was smooth and milky and her body flowed in a voluptuous S-shape capped by shimmering champagne-colored locks. Was it just a coincidence, he wondered idly, that Bella was the antithesis of Karen, the girl he was going to marry tomorrow? Steering his thoughts clear of what was to happen the following day, Don watched with lewd satisfaction as Bella's cherry red lips ovalled tightly around his expanding cock, slipping easily up the stretched, veinous surface of his member, until almost its entire length was buried inside her hot moist mouth. She slipped out along the smooth shaft, her lips gently titillating the sensitive surface with their nibbling, until only the smooth, rubbery head was still warmly encased in her velvety mouth. Then expertly, she held the tip for a moment, poised between her strong r u b b e r y lips, before sliding forward again in a sensual rhythm.
Don hissed, the sibilant sighs escaping from his broad chest, like wind from a bellows, the ripples of pleasure shooting like wildfire up the entire length of his body. The many scotches he had drunk in the course of the raucous, boisterous party only served to hone the edge of his sensitivity and now his whole body was a-tingle with sensation.
The party had quietened down and the guys were reaching for chairs, to watch the stag movie that Bill was arranging.
Don, momentarily lost in a lustful daze and lulled by the smooth sucking on his burgeoning cock, found his blissful euphoria shattered by the whirring of the camera and the excited chattering of his friends. Turning his head, he was just in time to see the title, THE BEAST, appear in large bold letters. After flickering several times, the camera zeroed in on a pretty young girl, dressed in a maid's uniform, busily dusting a variety of ornaments and objets d'art. The camera focused on her pert little upswung breasts, jutting out in the frilly white apron, her rounded buttocks, taut against the shiny black of her uniform, her shapely calves dropping to trim little ankles. Her sweet, cherubic young face was haloed by dark curls, on which perched a little lace cap, and the camera showed briefly a close-up of her face, which portrayed almost incredible sweetness and innocence.
"Well, there's Beauty!" guffawed one of Don's friends who was a sergeant in the Army. "Now where's the Beast?" Raucous laughter followed and then sudden silence as a Dresden-like statuette slipped from the unfortunate girl's hands and shattered on the floor. Tears gushed to the young girl's eyes and her full lips quivered visibly.
Don, in spite of the intense mouth fucking he was getting, drew in his breath, for the terror of the girl obviously on her first day on the job, was so skilfully apparent that a hush fell on the semidark, smoky room
As the girl stood there, sobbing, the door burst open and a tall, stern-faced woman strode in. Her eyes blazed when she saw the broken statue, and from her gesticulations, it was obvious that she was severely reprimanding the young girl, who seemed to visibly cower under the verbal assault. Then the hawkish woman grabbed the girl roughly by the arm and dragged her out of the room. The scene changed to a spartan bedroom, adorned only with a large brass bed and the angry woman appeared to be giving the terrified young girl some instructions, pointing at the bed. The frightened girl's eyes widened in horror and she shook her head vehemently. Without warning, the other woman lashed out and struck her viciously across the face. Tears streamed down her face, and stunned, the girl began to undress, numbly casting her new uniform on the floor.
Don groaned, all thoughts of the film fleeing from his head as he felt Bella's hand squeezing at the bloated sac of his balls, pumping and kneading them until he could feel his sperm fermenting deep inside them. She continued her feverish sucking until his cock had expanded, completely filling her mouth, and her cheeks hollowed and filled from her exertion. Almost mechanically, her hand alternated between buffeting his semen-laden balls in her palm and squeezing and massaging the thick strong base of his cock, buried in the nest of his curly brown pubic hair.
He'd never known anyone who could do it this good. Not even those whores he'd gone to when he was on duty in Viet Nam or even those Malayan girls he knew in Singapore, who were supposed to be the best in the world. Hah! Bella could teach any of them a thing or two ...
His reminiscences were interrupted by a uniform gasp in the room and craning his neck, he could see that the camera, this time, was focused on the naked body of the young girl, who was spread-eagled on the bed, her knees drawn up and spread wide apart, obviously on the order of the cruel matron, who was standing at the foot of the bed, her arms folded, a sadistic sneer on her unattractive face. The camera zoomed in on the mound at the base of the young girl's slightly rounded belly. Her pubic hair was soft and youthfully sparse and barely covered the slender lips which enfolded the narrow slit of her vagina.
All the men edged their chairs in closer almost as one, and feasted their eyes voraciously on the tantalizing sight in front of them. The only sound in the room was the whirring of the camera and the increasing slavering of Bella, as she strove to increase the already considerable pleasure she was giving to the guest of honor, who was writhing now, his loins pounding up furiously against the blond's feverishly working lips, his eyes fastened on the screen.
The matron, after staring at the cringing nakedness of the young girl for a moment, beckoned to someone who was standing outside and a man hurried in, carrying a piece of rope. Immediately, he began to tie the protesting girl's hands to the bedrail, so that she was securely bound and unable to move her upper torso.
Again, the older woman snapped her fingers and after a moment, a huge brown and white St. Bernard dog bounded in and with one leap, landed on the bed, which sagged under his ponderous weight.
Don watched this new development with growing excitement. His balls felt as if they would explode at any minute but he had to hold off, he just had to, until he saw what was going to happen. He'd never seen a movie as good as this one and he'd seen plenty, and he just couldn't bear to miss the rest of it, not even for the climax he knew was building up inside him and which he knew would be a good one, a very good one.
The girl's mouth was open and she seemed to be screaming at the appalling sight of the huge brute approaching her, but the dog, oblivious to her fear, began to nose around her wide open vagina, sniffing interestedly, until, suddenly, unbelievably, his long pink tongue darted out and began to sweep at the tiny tight little furrow. The poor girl, at first paralyzed with fear, began to thrash about frenziedly, but her slim legs were unable to budge the great furry bulk lodged between them. The grim-looking woman and her male friend stood observing, lewd smirks contorting their faces as they watched the debasing punishment they were meting out to the young girl.
The dog's large, meaty tongue labored on, his shiny wet black nose buried deep in the fuzzy triangle between her legs, while her whole body shook and quivered with indescribable horror.
Don could hardly believe what was happening on the screen. The canine beast seemed almost as if he had been trained for the job, so expert was he, probing his huge tongue in and out of the girl's moistened split. Suddenly, the girl's frantic flailing had stopped and her body was still, except for a slight quivering, and it looked to the audience as if she suddenly didn't mind it quite so much. Her slender loins began an almost imperceptible up and down motion, and incredibly, her thighs closed in slightly around the furry head. A murmur of disbelief rippled through the room. She was actually beginning to like it! They all watched in amazement as her grip tightened around the massive head and her hips rose, presenting her tender young vagina to him for further animalistic assault. The dog, as if aware of his victory, began to lap harder with long smooth strokes of his tongue at her now willing cuntal slit and Don thought that the girl would come at any minute, spurting out her fluid in hot, white dribbles over the smooth whiskery muzzle of the dog. There was something perversely arousing about the sight of this hitherto angelic young girl, the embodiment of innocence, writhing so shamelessly under the barbarous nuzzling of her canine lover, and combined with Bell's redoubled efforts, making her guzzle his distended cock with extra fury, almost as if she wished to win his attention from her rival on the screen, unleashed the crescendo of his orgasm. Don's head was filled with roaring, and then a thousand flaming lights exploded behind his eyes, and somewhere, far away, he felt the rushing of his semen, shooting along his swollen prick like a waterfall on a wet wintry day, rushing deep into the whore's gulping throat. Greedily, she swallowed the burning liquid as it cascaded in torrents down her throat, and she continued to milk with her lips the deflating cock, long after it was dry, until it finally slipped flaccidly from her mouth.
As the last waves of his orgasmic fervor receded, Don began to focus his eyes once more on the screen. The dog's head was no longer buried in the moist pussy underneath him. He was hovering over her, almost straddling her and she was turned over, so that her smoothly rounded little ass was facing him. She was on her knees and her little buttocks waved invitingly back in the air.
Slowly, clumsily, the giant dog mounted her, his large front paws hanging down on either side of her narrow back. Don raised himself up on his elbow as he caught sight of the bright, gleaming pink flesh of the animal's penis as it slipped out of its sheath. The girl actually wanted that long slippery thing inside her and was pushing her trembling little ass-cheeks back and up as if trying to skewer herself with the dog's penis. Finally, the dog, his lower jaw hinging down, managed to slip his bobbing shaft inside the waiting orifice, and everybody in the room, including Bella, watched with a mixture of horror and interest as the huge animal began to plow slowly in and out of the bucking loins of the girl. The gigantic dog continued to fuck into her and the cruel mistress and her friend in the film edged closer to the bed to get a better look at the lewd scene. Then the girl's body was caught in a cataclysmic shudder and she began to writhe and flail like a dervish. The animal suddenly gave a savage thrust deep inside her and let loose a hot, sticky stream of juice which flooded her shuddering vagina and streamed down the walls of her pussy and insides of her thighs to form a lewd white pool which quickly seeped into the creaking bed. After a brief moment focusing on the satiated jumble of fur and creamy skin, the reel abruptly came to an end.
An excited chatter broke out among the men, and Don, his limp prick still hanging out of his open fly, staggered off in search of afresh drink. "Man, this is one hell of a party," he said happily to no one in particular, as he poured himself a large double scotch.
* * *
Karen Browne tried the delicate white headpiece on over her smooth dark hair. The veil framed her perfect oval face and the sparkling brightness of the net contrasted with the darkness of her hair, which in turn set off the ivory smoothness of her skin. Her large gray eyes looked back at her reflection in the mirror, framed by thick long lashes and her perfectly shaped nose and chiselled lips completed a face of exquisite beauty. There was not a line on the pale plane of her face to suggest her thirty-five years-perhaps the hint of a blue shadow under her eyes was all that might point to her true age. Her hair fell almost to her chin and came forward to a guiche on both cheeks. Her sister, who had come down from Philadelphia to be her bridesmaid and to help with the wedding arrangements, was now asleep in the bedroom and Karen took this opportunity to look again at her wedding things, without the somewhat bossy company of her sister. Her beautiful white dress was specially designed by a well-known designer in Boston, and was tastefully decorated with all the buttons and lace of the traditional wedding gown, and Karen stole a peek at it again, remembering how it looked when she'd tried it on earlier. The tight-fitting bodice emphasized her upswept breasts, small but firm, and her slim waist and slight but curved and womanly hips were accentuated by the simple straight cut of the skirt.
Almost in a dream, Karen sat down in the middle of a pile of lingerie. She couldn't be lieve this was actually happening to her. It was like a dream - Don finally proposed to her just last month, immediately after his discharge from the Army. She recalled all the months and years of their courtship - if it could be called that when she'd sat alone, night after night, thinking about the man she loved so much but knew so little about. She had met him when he was on leave - was it really nine years ago? - and he was vacationing in the Washing ton, D.C. area. She was attracted to his tall, heavily built figure, his all-American good looks, his burly manner. All these attributes were just the opposite to those she possessed but nevertheless, she knew almost right away that there'd never be anyone else for her. Don was a widower when she met him with a son then five years old. He in turn seemed to be attracted to her gentle unassuming nature, which was re flected in the way she dressed and her whole mode of living, and she was quite the opposite of the extroverted, sparkling livewire who had been his first wife. When Don went back to his Special Forces unit at Fort Bragg, they exchanged promises to write, and they kept up their correspondence over the years, seeing each other at vacation time. She had been so worried when he was sent to Viet Nam and was terrified lest she would see his name as one of the casualties in the newspapers. But, thankfully, it never happened, and now he was discharged from the Army, retired after twenty years of service. He was only thirty-eight now and Karen could see him settling down to running the little hardware store they planned on opening right there in Gaithersburg, Maryland, where Karen lived and worked.
Her fastidious sensitive nature was bothered at times by Don's rough and ready exterior, and she tried not to mind when he told dirty jokes in front of her or guffawed at a romantic scene in the movies. She understood that a life lead primarily among men and in an authoritarian and often violent environment roughened the most refined of men, and that after hours it was difficult to cast aside one's role at work, especially when it was one of leader and giver of orders. Consequently, she accepted all Don's shortcomings with loving patience. She really loved him with all her heart, and when friends asked if she was worried about all the women he probably had when stationed overseas, her naive and charitable heart immediately assured her that Don was not like all the others.
Now that the big day was almost there, she began to question, as she often had done in the past, if she was good enough for him. She was overwhelmed thinking about all the kindnesses he had shown her, the little gifts he'd given her, and she prayed she would make him a good wife, and be a good mother for his son, Champ, who was now fourteen and away at Military School.
How lucky I am she thought to herself, her heart swimming with happiness. Their little store was going to be a success, she knew that, and she herself was important to Don. He had told her this many times, emphasizing how useful her clerical skills would be in the financial management of the shop, and she was aware that were it not for the sizeable savings she'd built up over the years as chief clerk at the Bank, they'd never have been able to buy outright the little premises where the shop was to be. They were going to live in the apartment over the shop, and Karen had spent all her evenings redecorating and furnishing it in her quiet, tasteful way. Again she told herself that she'd do all in her power to help him and become a partner in his success.
"Karen!" Her sister's thin, harsh voice rang out, disturbing her thoughts. "Why aren't you in bed? You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."
Karen sighed and switching off the lights in the living room, walked slowly into her bedroom where Angela, her sister, was lying in the other twin bed.
"You have to have plenty of energy for tomorrow!"Angela said snickeringly.
The usual pall of depression which accompanied any contact she had with her sister settled over Karen, and she resigned herself to another lecture from the domineering younger girl. Angela had been married for years and considered it her prerogative to lord it over Karen, and was, when they were together at Christmastime and other holidays, forever making slighting remarks about her, and her dead-end job, etc. Now, recovering from the real surprise the announcement of her sister's pending marriage had on her, Angela felt it her duty to warn Karen about not only the evils of men in general, but the particular shortcomings of the one her sister was about to marry. Fortunately, Karen, having experienced years of her sister's near tyranny, since their mother died when they were in their early teens, was not perturbed by her wet-blanket sister, and proceeded to get ready for bed, putting on her faithful flannel pajamas.
"You won't be wearing those tomorrow night, will you?" Angela said, her eyes gleaming in the semidarkness.
"No, I guess I won't." Karen answered meek ly, thinking of the frothy white nightdress and matching peignoir she had chosen, with much blushing, at a department store in Washington.
"After tomorrow night, you'll be a changed woman!" Angela went on, "You'll never be the same again!"
Karen, in the act of getting into bed, froze on hearing her sister's taunting remarks. Memories from the past came rushing back. Angela, immediately aware of the effect of her words, continued to goad Karen.
"You will be changed, won't you? Or maybe you've got nothing to lose!" she snickered lightly.
Karen blushed deep red and fervently hoped her eagle-eyed sister would fail to notice her burning face.
"Is that it?"Angela shrilled, her voice rising in excitement. "Have you lost your virginity already? Have you?"
Karen stood there mutely. The blood now drained from her face and her heart was thumping like a drum. Did she know? Did she suspect what had happened? Quivering with fear, Karen jumped into bed. Her throat was parched and her heart was still pounding painfully. With as much conviction as she could muster, she replied to her prying sister:
"Please, Angela, I'm very tired. Goodnight."
Angela muttered a brusque goodnight and Karen only began to relax when she heard her sister breathing evenly in sleep.
Her confused thoughts began to clarify in her dazed brain.
What did Angela mean? Had she somehow found out about what happened that dreadful night, twenty years ago? Had Robert told her? Karen shivered with horror at the thought, imagining her stepbrother boasting to Angela about how he had "taken her down a peg." The gruesome idea convulsed Karen with mortification and involuntarily, she cried out No! No!
"Karen! Are you all right?" Angela called groggily.
"Yes, I'm fine." Karen answered in a shaky voice, and Angela immediately dropped back to sleep.
Once more, remembrance of the misery-filled days of her teens came rushing back to Karen. How their father had remarried when she was fifteen and Angela thirteen, and how their stepbrother, also fifteen, had immediately ganged up with Angela against her, both of them accusing her of being stuck-up and conceited, when in a c t u a l i t y she was, merely desperately shy. Their stepmother hadn't helped, either, making Karen, who yielded, do most of the household chores, while Angela, who rebelled, was allowed to do as she liked. She remembered, with a feeling of nausea, how she dreaded getting up each day, to face, as well as school, a mountain of chores, accompanied by sneers from Angela and threats of "teaching her a lesson" from Robert.
The events which she had blocked out for so long now came crowding back with terrifying clarity, and her memory was now beyond her control, and as clearly as if she were watching a movie, she recalled a Saturday in late June, a day which turned out to be the worst in her life. Her father and stepmother had gone to the movies, taking Angela with them. Robert, for some reason, declined and Karen was given no choice but to stay home and do the ironing for Sunday's clothes. At around nine o'clock, Karen had the ironing finished, and decided to take a bath and go to bed early, knowing her parents wouldn't be back until at least midnight, as there was a double feature at the drive-in.
After her bath, Karen lay on the bed, her hair still damp, thankful for the soothing semidusk and for the unusual privacy, as her sister shared the bedroom with her. The evening air was still warm and humid and the heavy atmosphere made her feel drowsy. The simple joy of lying there, clean, warm and naked, awoke in her the first stirrings of womanhood and she ran her hands lightly up and down the length of her slender, milk-white body, rejoicing for the first time in its creamy smoothness. She noticed her tiny breasts, just mere swellings and the tiny wisps of down that fluffed up at the vee of her legs. She stretched languorously, revelling in the discovery of her growing womanhood. Suddenly, she stiffened. Her acute hearing had picked up the slight rustling in the darkened room. Her heart began to throb and she sat up abruptly. There was someone there!
"W-who is it?" she asked timidly, desperately trying to clutch at the blankets underneath her. No answer.
"W-who's there?" she cried again, her terror mounting.
After a moment's silence, another rustle and a shadowy form appeared.
Karen tried to scream, but no sound came. Her throat was arid and her chest utterly constricted. Desperately, she tried to move, but her limbs were like jelly and the intruder was creeping closer.
Even now, as she remembered her panic and fear, Karen curled up in bed and wrapped her arms protectively around herself, wishing desperately for sleep to blanket her into unconsciousness. But there was no excape for her and the film reel of her mind went spinning on with its gruesome movie.
As the figure drew nearer, Karen had almost sobbed with relief when she recognized Robert, her stepbrother.
"Oh, Robert!" she cried. "Thank God it's you! I was afraid ..."
But something about his presence made her stop. He seemed to be reeling about and Karen thought she could smell wine. It immediately struck her that he must have finished the halfbottle of Beaujolais left over from dinner, taking advantage of their parents' absence.
Summoning her courage, she said:
"Robert, please leave my room."
But he had only laughed and then sneered:
"I saw you playing with your little pussy! You think you're too good for the rest of us, but I know what you're really like!!" And he lunged forward towards Karen, who screamed in terror.
"Afraid o' me, are you?" he slurred, moving closer. With strength born of fear, Karen jumped up from the bed and dashed towards the door, grabbing the knob with all her strength.
It was locked.
Robert laughed behind her, and realizing the futility of her efforts, she started to sob loudly.
"P-please let me out, Robert! P-please . .. ." But Robert only sneered again.
"I just want to show you that you're no better than Angela and me, sis!" and he began fumbling at his clothes, tearing them from his body. Karen stared in disbelief, all thoughts of her own total nudity forgotten. After a long, unbearable minute, he stood in front of her com pletely naked. Frozen with fear, she watched in abject horror as he moved closer to her, his big boyish penis held like a spear in his hand. Not quite sixteen, he was tall and well built for his age, and Karen was paralyzed with fear as she gazed at the huge protuberance of his erect organ. The dimness in the room seemed to add to its proportions and, numb with shock, she managed to stammer, "Don't touch me!"
In her innocence, she had no real inkling of what Robert had in mind, but she had seen him staring in a lascivious way at the pubescent beauty of her naked body, and instinctively she knew that he was very dangerous.
He reached out and grabbed her roughly, jerking her hard against him. His fingers dug painfully into the side of her face and he pressed his moist lips down on hers, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. She tried to struggle, to break away from his powerful grasp, to escape the sickening thrust of his hardened penis into her naked stomach, but he was too strong for her. She tried to scream but only a gurgle sounded in the stillness of the room and once again she felt the futility of screaming when there was no one around to help her. She was utterly alone - just like she had always been since her real mother died.
She felt herself being pulled over to the bed, and weak with horror, she didn't resist. Robert flung her frail body down, and her head began to swim. Robert's winey breath blew on her face, frightening her more, and meek by nature, she lay frozen on the bed, unable to offer any resistance to his onslaught. There was nothing she could do and tears of helpless fear flowed freely down her face.
Heavily, Robert slumped down on the bed, covering her slim body with his heavy one. Casually, cruelly, he dug his knee between her legs, forcing her to spread them apart and then slipped his lower torso between them. He bent down and fastened his teeth harshly over one of her tiny budding nipples, still aching with pubic tenderness. Karen groaned in pain and vainly tried to dislodge the heavy figure of her stepbrother. Angered by her resistance, Robert grabbed her by the arms and snarled:
"I'm gonna teach you, ya little bitch ... "
With the impatience of the inexperienced, he lunged forward, and his penis, swollen with passion, danced around near the tiny membrane-covered opening between her legs, never quite making it. Then with a sudden snarl of anger, he surged forward and Karen felt the first harsh pressure of his lust-hard cock against her elastic-tight vaginal orifice. Grunting, Robert pushed again and the rubbery head penetrated her soft virginal flesh. Karen screamed and screamed, and even now, as she lay in bed twenty years afterwards, reliving the horrifying experience, she still imagined she could hear the shocking cacophony of her own terrified shrieks. She began to shiver and instinctively clenched her legs together at the memory of the brutal penetration. She could almost feel the raw pain of the huge male rod tearing at her delicate inner walls, as her stepbrother plowed mercilessly into her and real tears gushed down her face as she recalled her heartfelt pleas to him to stop.
"No, Robert, Nooo .. . p-please stop hurting me ..." She had sobbed but to no avail, and he had ravished her completely. She sobbed anew at the painful thought of how his scalding hot semen had burned the tender, cringing flesh of her vaginal forever stretched walls as he spewed his seed into her before slipping drunkenly from her, leaving her alone, agonized and feeling that she had been soiled forever.
Karen sat up in bed. It was only several hours till morning, when she would walk up the aisle on her brother-in-law's arm and be married to Don. Fresh tears rolled down her face as she thought of the deception she was pulling on her fiance. Somehow, with her childlike capacity for blocking out the past horrors of her life, she had almost forgotten that, contrary to what Don believed, she was not a virgin. If someone had asked her outright, she would have affirmed her virginity, but the disgusting episode when she was fifteen was evidence to the contrary. Grim thoughts of Don discovering her secret on their wedding night and, immediately calling for an annulment, tormented her. She was desperately afraid to confide in him and there was no one she could turn to and find out if there was any way of proving the extent of her purity, one way or the other, and tormented with worry and fear, she finally, through sheer exhaustion, dropped off to still sleep, her mind fermenting with self-guilt.
Chapter 2
Don drove the station wagon expertly up the turnpike towards Pennsylvania and Karen leaned back happily.
The wedding had gone off perfectly. The church looked beautiful, decorated with sweeping bouquets of gold and white roses interspersed with maidenhair fern, and the midday sun bathed the congregation in a golden glow. Karen's face was drawn and pale, but this only seemed to emphasize her fragility and gave her an appealing air of tragedy as she walked up the aisle. Even Angela's sharp features were softened by the flattering apricot color of her dress, and everyone said how attractive the two sisters looked. Don, too, was very handsome in his dark suit and his broad shoulders and capable manner were the perfect counterpart for Karen's helplessness and diminutiveness. Champ, the best man, looked dashing in his Military School uniform and swaggered about with an air of cocky young authority.
Karen felt a mixture of emotions as she walked up the aisle on her brother-in-law's arm. She felt as she had when she was making her First Communion, all dressed in white, and deep inside she felt the same purity and innocence as she did then. And she felt supremely happy, in spite of her fear of last night, convincing herself that Don loved her, no matter what.
Don felt happy too as he drove, his eyes glued on the straight stretch of road. He was glad to be finally married to Karen. He knew she'd make a good wife and although he'd never mentioned it to her, he was secretly pleased to be taking a virgin to the conjugal bed. After his twenty years in the Army, he felt like settling down to one woman, one home, and it helped also that they could use Karen's savings to buy the shop and start their own business, living on his retirement pay. Besides, Karen was the old- fashioned kind of girl that he really liked, willing to cook and clean, and take care of him like a woman should. He was tired of the modern emancipated woman, demanding, self-seeking, without any interest in domestic life.
"Yes, I'm a lucky man," he thought happily, smiling tenderly at his new bride.
They reached the resort in the Poconos after a four-hour drive, and Karen felt tired and uncomfortable in her pink moygashel suit which was wrinkled from the long journey. To add to their discomfort, there was a mixup over their cabins, and they had to wait for almost an hour before they were finally shown to a handsomely constructed redwood cabin, coolly shaded by oak trees. The living room inside was dominated by a huge fieldstone fireplace in which a log fire crackled cheerily, taking the chill off the September evening. The room was comfortably furnished and a chilled bottle of champagne was nestled in a bucket of ice. The bedroom contained a large king-sized bed, complete with pink satin sheets, and several vases of fresh-cut flowers, asters of all shades mixed with decorative Scotch thistles, were placed around the room, which lead off to a sumptuous bathroom, the chief attraction of which was a sunken heart-shaped bathtub, a specialty of that particular resort. They both looked around them with pleasure, their ill humor fading, satisfied with their honeymoon choice.
Then, Don pulled her to him and Karen responded passionately to his ardent kiss. His mouth bruised against hers, his tongue darting hungrily between her lips. Don embraced her with heated urgency and he felt his passion growing every moment. The desire to possess this lovely, ethereal woman was mounting in him and she, responding to his passion, answered him fervently, the lashes of desire coursing through every nerve in her body.
She pressed herself against him, soft and yielding in his arms. Bending his knees, he pressed the erotic curves of her body against his own desire-ridden frame. The kiss lasted for a long time as they fused their bodies into one and their tongues teased each other in a love duel. Her nipples, hard and pointed burned into his chest and the swelling between his legs pressed eagerly into her soft belly, expanding against the firmness of her pubic mound.
Karen could feel a lightheadedness coming over her and she was aware of a moistness in her panties, the flood of her awakening desire. Don did not kid himself. He knew that he was not really attracted sexually to Karen, but in the soft evening light, mellowed from the reception champagne, he saw her with the eyes of love, and his appreciation of her good qualities as a person merged with the rising tide of his desire, and changed her from a good, sensible choice of a mate into a glorious, sensual being waiting to receive his offer of love.
Abruptly, Karen struggled to release herself from his grasp, abandoned for a moment in the throes of pleasure, and the knowledge of her desire kindled the flame of her old ideas on the way things should be and she slipped from the arms of her new husband and almost ran into the bathroom, carrying her little overnight case.
His romantic reverie shattered, Don saw Karen again in the old familiar light and cursed her under his breath.
"Now, what the hell is she doing?" he muttered angrily.
Feeling put-down and neglected, he strode over to the champagne. Filling a glass and carrying the bottle, he sat down heavily in one of the armchairs. Greedily gulping the champagne, he kept his eyes on the bathroom door and his anger rose as he heard the sound of the water running and the bathtub filling. He felt urgently tempted to run in and take her on the spot. But the champagne eased the agony of waiting and the bottle was just finished when, almost an hour later, Karen e m e r g e d, an ephemeral vision in white, gliding soundlessly towards him. Don sucked in his breath, love welling up inside him again. The long transparent gown served to emphasize every gentle curve and swelling of her body, and his eyes took in her tiny, rising nipples, pink against the diffused nylon, the exciting flow of her hips and the darkly raised mound of her silken pubic triangle. Every sensuous detail of her body was lucidly clear and the long white gowm, instead of presenting her as chaste and demure, seemed to Don to portray her as the embodiment of womanly sensuality.
Grunting with anticipatory pleasure, Don began stripping off his clothes, his eyes never leaving the lovely apparition before him. When finally he stood there, naked as Adonis, Karen's startled gaze travelled down to the incredible size of his throbbing penis, jutting out proudly from between his legs. Her eyes were transfixed on the huge instrument and she felt as if she would suffocate, so tight and labored was her breath from her rising fear. How could she take that inside her, without it hurting her horribly? Involuntarily, her mind flashed back on the image of her stepbrother's similarly enormous young penis which was forever etched in her brain, and she trembled in visible apprehension at the sight of her husband's erect member, even more monstrous now in comparison with her stepbrother's. Her eyes widened in fear and a shudder raced through her. He'll hurt me ... it'll rip me apart, just like Robert ... her frightened mind cried.
But now Don was coming towards her, his cock hovering out in front of him, his arms reaching for her. He lifted her in his powerful arms, and gently laid her on the bed. He hovered over her, his eyes feasting on her quivering body, anxious to possess her at once and at the same time, eager to please and satisfy her on this, her first time.
Gently, he teased at the tiny red nipples already rigidly distended and then he began to ease up the long soft material of her nightdress, gasping as the gleaming softness of her pubic fleece came into view, surrounded on all sides by the pure whiteness of her skin. As he gazed at the lust-inciting sight, his cock began to expand even more, pressured by his bloated balls, which were aching unbearably. Eagerly, he slipped the garment over her shoulders and she lay there, still and white against the faint pink sheen of the sheets. His fingers began to play again with her naked nipples, plucking the hard little tips until they stood up proudly from her alabaster flesh.
He tried to control his mounting passion which was spurred on by the loosening effects of the champagne he had drunk, trying to will his cock to cease its fervent clamoring and he deliberately tried to keep the bloated instrument away from the fulcrum of her body. He traced his lips down the swan-like softness of her neck, down to the roseate tips of her breasts, which he kissed wetly, and then trailed down to the smoothness of her belly.
In spite of her fear, Karen felt little eddies of pleasure rippling along the surface of her body and she felt a strange yearning burning between her legs.
Don, his face buried in the flat plane of her stomach, felt the beginning of response in the flesh of his wife and her tiny shivers of pleasure were like an acceptance of him. Eagerly, he eased apart her slim legs and pressed down between them, his heavy prick straining into her flesh. Karen felt the hot palpitations of his penis against her inner leg. It felt to her like an enormous snake, moving and pulsatingly alive, waiting to slip inside her and curl around against her innermost flesh. She could feel it growing bigger and bigger down between her thighs, inching its way slowly towards her unprotected vagina, the lubricant-smeared tip leaving a snail-like trail along her leg. She fought to subdue her rising fear, but just then, Don lunged forward and for the first time in many years, she felt the touch of naked male flesh between her open legs. The searing contact electrified her and she began to cry out:
"OooohhhhhDon ... be gentle ... please be gentle ... ."
Don, almost at breaking point from trying to ward off his snowballing passion, and morbidly sensitive from his wife's reticence in the face of his masculinity, suddenly lost control and with a sudden, jabbing thrust, entered her with all the strength and desire he had bottled up inside him.
"AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Karen screamed, her shattering high-pitched screams of agony echoing throughout the room - screams which somehow, in his overpowering state of need, urged her husband on. His hands began kneading her soft delicate flesh until he raised white, bloodless ridges on its ivory surface. She kicked her legs out wildly to the sides of his driving body to try and escape the cruel impalement but he continued to batter deeper and deeper into her tender flesh.
"Oh Don ... please stop ... don't hurt meee ..." she moaned piteously, desperately struggling, but now Don was completely inside her, and his long, rigid pole lay sunk all the way inside her helplessly quivering belly. right up to her womb.
"Stoooooppp ..." she sobbed in agony ... "oooohhhhh please stop ... ."
But he didn't stop. He didn't give her time to adjust to the huge girth of flesh inside her, but immediately began to fuck into her, with long, hard, barbarous strokes, ramming his cock up, deep inside her until his balls smacked hard down against t a curvaceous moons of her trembling buttocks. The force of his tremendous surges raised her light body up off the bed and on the outstroke, she fell down heavily again, her pelvis slamming into the mattress.
Wave after wave of intense pain swept over her, and moan after piteous groan escaped her dry, parched lips. She thought it would never stop. Her insides felt as if a huge freight train had sped through her, splitting and widening her internal walls forever. Through the haze of pain, her mind, almost ironically reflected that it didn't matter now about what her stepbrother had done. Don hadn't noticed and what he was doing was far, far worse. She lay there like a lifeless mannequin, her body helplessly buf feted on her husband's giant battering cock, her eyes dry of tears and harsh groans emitting from her throat. Her body felt as if it didn't belong to her the intense pain completely isolated her from it and she saw her body as so much hay being tossed on a pitchfork, and the pain was out there, somewhere.
Finally, it was over. Don's body became taut, and then he began to spasm with long furious shudders, and his scalding hot sperm came shooting out in long sticky jets and filled her helplessly battered vaginal passage. Finally, her new husband grunted and slipped off her, bruised body, his wet limp prick slapping lewdly against her abused flesh. Without a word, he turned over on his side, and almost seconds later, he was, incredibly, asleep.
Karen lay there, hardly daring to breathe. Her body felt sore all over and she wanted more than anything to run into the bathroom and scrub herself clean, rid herself of all evidence of the humiliation she had suffered, only her tired body refused to obey her. Realization that she was subject, from now on, to her husband's whims as far as sex was concerned dawned on her, and fresh tears appeared and coursed un checked down her face. - .
She remembered her happiness and pride of the morning, her previous plans to assist her husband in every way, her occasional shy wondering about the intimate side of marriage which she believed was much different from her experience with Robert, and she began to sob even harder. It's all the same, she wept bitterly, he's just the same. as Robert. Filled with loathing, she wept until daybreak, fervently hoping the morning would never come.
Chapter 3
Karen looked with distaste at the loudmouthed blond who sat opposite her at the table in the cocktail lounge at the Resort. She had completely monopolized the conversation for most of the evening and Don was unabashedly flirting with her, ignoring Karen. Shirley, the blond, and Harry her husband, were on vacation from New York, and Don had asked them to join Karen and himself, and another couple, Donna and Jack, for drinks on this their last day of their honeymoon.
A feverish competition for buying rounds started and before long, the numerous scotches had brought out the boisterous, randy side of Don, which Karen hated. Shirley, too, had kept up with him as far as drinks were concerned, and now she had begun, with annoying frequency to make snide jokes about honeymoon couples. Don, to Karen's mortification, had, many times, begun to say "Well, we don't..." or "Karen won't..." but, mercifully, the general raucousness of the group had drowned out the embarrassing reminders of Don's accusing complaints. For their honeymoon had been a total fiasco! Karen couldn't bear to let Don even touch her after that first night. She felt repulsed when she caught glimpses of him as he got ready for bed and she herself undressed in the bathroom. She was glad that she remembered to bring her flannel pajamas and she shrouded herself in flannel and slept at the edge of the large bed, never relaxing until Don was safely asleep. She couldn't forgive him for his brutal attack on her body on that first night, although she tried to, but the memory of that dreadful act, which she could not erase, caused her to feel nothing but contempt and loathing for him. Why couldn't he have been more gentle, more understanding, she kept asking herself, and the only answer she could come up with was that all men were like that, like animals.
"Did you hear the one about the groom who said to his blushing bride, "Darling, what is the only organ in the body that has no bone?" Shirley's loud voice interrupted her thoughts and everyone sniggered and winked at each other.
Shirley continued her joke. "Darling, the young girl said, her face crimson, "how could you?"
"Why honey," the groom answered, "I was only thinking of the tongue!"
Everyone howled with laughter and Don cackled loudest of all, slapping his thigh with his palm.
"Good old Shirley!" he said between gales of laughter, "You sure know how to tell a joke! Har! Har! Har!"
Karen's distaste for Shirley intensified when Don asked her to dance again. They half-stumbled drunkenly out onto the dance floor where a small band was playing a slow song, and Don grabbed Shirley tight to him. They seemed to fuse together as one, and moved in perfect unison. Don's hand dipped lower until it was pressed against the curved mounds of Shirley's buttocks which were straining lewdly against the wool of her tight dress. Karen noted with disgust, how Shirley's dress was clinging teasingly to her body and how low cut it was in front, and with the push-up bra she was wearing, Karen was half-afraid that her nipples would pop out and be visible at any moment. The knit dress was bright red, which matched her lipstick and Karen wondered how a woman like that, of about Karen's own age, could be so vulgar. She noticed how Don kept slipping his knee between Shirley's long slim legs as they danced and how she in turn brazenly raised her pubic mound and pressed it firmly against his leg. She could see how Shirley repeatedly crushed her exposed bosom against Don's shirt and he was openly caressing the rounded flesh of Shirley's backside. They had been dancing together before this, but never so close, and Karen felt her face flush with shame. Harry didn't even seem to notice that his wife was dancing so lewdly with another man, and was happily guzzling his gin.
Now Don was nuzzling Shirley's neck, and her hand was caressing his hair and slipping around occasionally to pat his cheek. She wondered how Don could behave like that in public, with a woman who was an obvious tramp. Furtively, she looked around. Nobody seemed to be paying the slightest attention to the dancing couple. In fact, several others on the dance floor were similarly glued together and Karen was sure that not all of them were husbands and wives. Well, she thought huffily, if none of them here have any morals, not even my own husband, it doesn't mean I have to stay and watch them! Disgusted, Karen grabbed her purse and without a word to the others, dashed back to the cabin.
Don was enjoying himself for the first time since his wedding. He was with the kind of woman he felt most comfortable with full bodied, full bodied, vivacious female, ready for anything.
She, she's a bit loud, he thought, but she's better than that mouse I'm married to! The re minder of what he considered his worst mistake angered him and he pulled Shirley even closer to him, squashing her ripe breasts hard against the cloth of his jacket. Frigid little bitch! he muttered.
"Who, me?" Shirley asked laughingly.
"Oh no! Not you, baby!" Don laughed, "not you!", hugging her again. Just then, the dance ended and they walked hand in hand back to the table. Everyone was gone.
"I guess it's late," Shirley said, glancing at her watch.
"I'll walk you back to the cabin!" Don volunteered.
"My, aren't you gallant!" Shirley teased. They walked out into the clear air, the gravel crunching under their feet. Don held her arm, but soon he slipped his arm around her and Shirley didn't object. There was a full moon and they made eerie shadows along the path to Shirley's cabin. Don was thinking ahead and hoping that Karen would be asleep at the cabin when he got back. He couldn't stand to see her again cringing at the edge of the bed, waiting for him to fall asleep first. As if he'd touch her, after that first disastrous night.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Shirley chirped.
"They're not worth even that!" Don answered gloomily.
"Oh-oh! You're thinking about your wife again!"
"And wishing she wasn't..." Don broke in. "Why couldn't I have married someone like you, Shirley? Someone full of life, cheerful, a real woman, instead of a ... ."
"Now, now, Karen's all right ... just a little timid ... she'll get over that!" Shirley assured him, stopping and facing him. They had reached her cabin, and Don dreaded leaving her, knowing he'd probably never see her again,
"If only..." he began.
"I'll give you a consolation prize," Shirley broke in, and leaning over, planted her moist pliant lips on his surprised ones. For a moment, it seemed as if she were only giving him a brief goodnight peck, but then her hand snaked up and gently pushed his head harder down on hers, while at the same time, inched her body closer to him until her pubic mound was placed directly against the bulge that was beginning to form along his leg. He could feel the heat of her body through their clothes and he reached around with his arms and encircled her willing body, pulling her closer to him. Once again, the melting lushness of her body overpowered him and he could feel her begin a slight grinding of her loins against his own burgeoning cock. Her tongue probed out and slipped between his teeth, and its pliant expertise began to dance and fence with his own member, whipping up a froth of saliva. His head spun from the heady scent which seemed to emanate from every pore of her body and he was just beginning to think that his "if only" didn't matter, when she slipped away wordlessly, and let herself into the cabin where her husband, Harry, lay snoring away his drunken stupor.
Don stood there, alone and bewildered. For a moment, he thought he must have done something to offend her, but then, he reflected, she was enjoying it as much as him. Oh well, he thought, might as well get back to Miss Iceberg. He walked around the cabin, to take the short cut through the woods to his own cabin. As he passed the bathroom, the light inside flicked on. The bottom half of the window was frosted glass, but the top was plain. On impulse, Don looked around and spying a large log, overlooked by the gardeners, he half-dragged, halfcarried it over to the window. Setting it against the wall so it wouldn't roll, he hesitatingly mounted it. He knew he would get a good view of the inside of the bathroom, but as he was straightening up, he hesitated. What if someone should see him? He'd be arrested - a Peeping Tom, a menace to the public! But just then, a trace of Shirley's musky perfume came wafting out through the open window, and all reason left him. He had to have a look, another look at her again. Just a brief glimpse, to remind him ...
Casting a cautious glance around, he slowly straightened up, and peered intently in the window.
Shirley was standing in front of a full-length mirror, fully dressed. Don was just in time to see her remove the pins from her hair and shake the golden waves down to her shoulders. The bathroom was lit only by the small fluorescent light over the window, and Don felt a pang of disappointment stabbing at him on realizing that only the outline of Shirley's voluptuous body was visbile. Tiny sparkles glistened in the dim light as Shirley shook her head from side to side, her tawny hair hanging like a spun gold waterfall down to her shoulders. His heart thumping with excitement, Don watched as she reached around and slowly lowered the zipper and the soft red material fell away from her smooth back, revealing the slim white strap of her brassiere. Don knew he should leave now, but he couldn't tear himself away. His eyes were glued on the woman as she casually shrugged her shoulders, and the garment slipped down the length of her arms, and gracefully, she removed first one and then the other long s l e n d e r limb from the long sleeves. Straining his eyes, Don could just barely make out her reflection in the mirror and sucked in his breath as he caught sight of the deep cleft of her ripe, upswept breasts pushing up provocatively from the lacy cups of her bra. Gently, she eased the dress down over her curvaceously rounded buttocks where it fell to the floor and she nimbly stepped out of it, leaving it in a discarded heap. She stood there, hands on hips, appraising herself in the mirror, clad only in bra, panties and garter belt. Her silky sheer stockings shone eerily in the half light and her long shapely legs disappeared in the darkness into her black high heeled shoes.
Don's breath caught in his throat as he feasted his eyes on the titillating scene. He loved to see a woman undress for him, it added to the excitement, preparing him for what was to come, only this time, he thought miserably, nothing was going to happen. He could feel the heat rising in him - the strange, bordello-like scene in the bathroom excited him greatly and tiny beads of perspiration were beginning to form from the tenseness of his body. He wanted to move, shift himself to a more comfortable position, but he was afraid that the slightest sound from without would alert the attractive semi-nude woman within. Gone were all his reservations about spying on Shirley - now he only wished that he could see better. Squinting his eyes, he determined that she had removed her bra and her marvellous breasts were unimpeded in their fullness, the nipples semi-erect. His throat dry, he watched as she unhooked her suspenders and then almost artistically rolled the silken nylons down, lovingly smoothing the soft inner flesh of her thighs as she did so.
Deftly, she slipped off the thin strip of garter belt and stood there motionless for a moment, in black lace bikini panties which barely covered the rounded mound of her pubes. The voluptuous moons of her ass were accentuated by the confining panties and Shirley half-pirouetted as if in order to catch the tantalizing effect in the mirror. Dreamily, she played one long tapered finger between the heaving mounds of her breasts and Don could feel a twitching in his own fingers as he longed to bury them in the deep cleft. His mouth felt chalky, dry as the desert, and there was a pounding in his head which he realized was the furious beating of his heart. His whole body felt sticky and wet, and great patches of sweat broke out on his body, making his slacks and shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin. Christ, I can't stand it, his brain hammered. I have to get away now or I'll break in and fuck her, right there on the bathroom floor! The thought of taking her like that, spreadeagled on the nylon carpet on the bathroom floor, with her own husband asleep in the next room, was lewdly exciting and his prick gave an interested leap as if in assent with his thoughts. Shirley then inserted her fingertips in the waistband of her panties and began to ease them down over her flaring hips, revealing in the mirror the flash of a fleecy glimmering triangle and then slipped them down her legs to join her other garments on the floor.
She stood there in front of the mirror, completely naked, and Don thought he'd have given anything to be able to see her clearly and drink in every delineation of her sculpted body. Just then, miraculously, the moon appeared from behind a cloud, and a shaft of light shone in from the open part of the window. Shirley was standing directly in the path of this moonbeam and Don almost gasped aloud when, in answer to his prayer, he could see perfectly the symmetry of her body, bathed' in the soft eerie light of the moon. She looked like a marble statue that Don had seen in the park in the moonlight and an almost uncontrollable urge to leap in the window and caress her smooth, travertine surface seized him.
Shirley slowly raised her hands and began to slide her palms up and down the satiny contours of her body, cupping her jutting breasts like dough in her hand along her down-soft sides to her small waist, stroking the liquidy flow of her hips. She had almost cried with disappointment when she found that Harry was fast asleep when she got in. She had hoped he'd be awake and that they would make love -after all, that was the whole purpose of this trip to get away alone together and rekindle the flickering flame of their mutual desire. But Harry seemed to have become even more disinterested in her since they'd arrived here last week. They'd only made love twice, and then only at her insistence! God knows, she spent enough time and money keeping herself attractive - and for what? He didn't even seem to notice, not like that guy Don Cook, who was ogling her all night, making it obvious to one and all that he was dying to get in her pants. And who'd blame him with a timid, disapproving wife like Karen? She herself had been almost tempted to stay a little longer with Don after she'd kissed him, but at the last moment, decided not to! What if Harry had been awake and caught them, and just because he didn't touch her often, didn't mean he was partial to anyone else taking his place.
Her palms massaged her creamy thighs as her thoughts wandered on, the back of her hand brushing electrically against the crinkly beige pubic hair. Dreamily, her fingers began to explore the golden tangle, twirling around in the moistened curls, and she shivered as she came in touch with the thin hair-lined pussy lips which quivered expectantly. Little currents of electricity were beginning to shoot along the periphery of her body, urging her fingers on. Through half-closed lids, she gazed at her reflection narcissistically, and seemed doubly excited by the lovely golden vision looking wonderingly back at her. Of their own volition, her fingers probed her moistening furrow, discovering the trembling raggedy inner lips, protectively sheltering the delicate recesses of her vagina. Shivers cavorted up and down her spine, causing her to shudder noticeably. She felt as if she were not really herself, but was in the power of some spirit, who wakened to life like a werewolf by the full moon, compelled her to perform this autoerotic love act. Sighing deeply, her fingers continued to search the secret sensitive folds of her excited pussy, sending ecstatic ripples of pleasure scurrying along her awakened flesh.
Don stared, eyes bulging goiter-like as he watched Shirley's fingers play gently among the teasing curls of her pubic hair and he gulped back gasps of amazement as he saw her body trembling in arousal. Now he really was watching, something private, he knew he was nothing but a Peeping Tom, but somehow, this time, the lewd thought made the act more appealing to him. He could feel his cock growing stiffly along his leg, hot and feverish with desire. His hands were clammy and his head was swimming with the enticing feeling of voyeurism which was engulfing him and he felt that at any moment he would slip and fall from his precarious perch on the log. He could see clearly Shirley's moist glistening vaginal furrow reflected in the mirror and he could almost make out the palpitating petal-like edges of the pussy inner lips as her fingers spread wide the shielding fleshy outer lips. A toasty flush spread from his own loins, warming his quaking body and his cock spasmed once, then again, reminding him of its arousal. Now her probing middle finger was teasing at the tiny button of her clitoris and Don could see its stimulated redness as she continued to stroke the hard little knob. He heard her moan audibly as she probed the dark moist recesses of her cunt, her fingers working frantically, kneading, pulling, searching the warmness of her hidden recesses. The white rounded moons of her buttocks were shaking and a thin rivulet of perspiration starting somewhere along her spine, trickled down between the straining mounds of soft smooth flesh. Her legs were spread far apart and he could see the veins standing out like whipcord along the inner edge of her thighs as she frantically flexed her pussy in time to her incessant probing. A finger hesitated at the grasping cuntal orifice and then with a soulful groan, she plunged it into her interior depths. The searing contact spasmed her body and she flung her head back wildly and Don could see her eyes tightly shut, and her lips pulled taut and bloodless over her teeth as she tossed in the sensual furor of her own manipulation.
Shirley's unreserved yielding to sensual pleasure was like a flaming torch that kindled the hitherto harnessed power of his arousal, and now Don's cock clamored painfully, palpitating wildly against the confines of his pants. The sight of the beautiful woman, contorted with lust, started an incredible ache in his balls and he could feel the lubricated glans tip of his prick smearing against the fabric of his pants. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, and his face was bathed in moisture, which dripped down from his brow, drowning out the entrancing scene before him. He was like a man possessed - nothing seemed to matter to him but the release of his burgeoning prick. Without a glance around to see if there was anyone nearby, he drew down the zipper, and unaided, his thick cock, swollen and distended, leaped out into the cool evening air, the purplish head gleaming in the moon-glow. He felt momentary release on freeing his member from the encasement of his pants, but then, almost immediately, the fire began again in his balls and tormented beyond endurance, he clasped it firmly in his big powerful hands. He was surprised at the fleshy hardness of it, alive with a will of its own and he could feel the powerful throbbing inside below the surface. Almost gingerly, he began to move his circled fingers up and down its long, sinewy length, pressuring it into even greater girth and each manipulative stroke seemed to fan the flame of his desire into a roaring fire. His prick still grasped in his massaging hand, Don again glanced in the bathroom window.
Shirley felt awash with a soothing rain of sensuality. Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord, probing deeper and deeper, making delicious contact with the pounding inner walls of her pussy, trying desperately to fill a need for which they were inadequate. Gently, she rotated her fingers in her grasping vagina, and her pelvis began an involuntary up and down grind against her hand. Her free hand flew to the throbbing button of her clitoris and began to tweak the hard little head into greater frenzy. Her fingers all searched and agitated and massaged in unison like an electric vibrator and flushes of hotness flooded over her whole being until she felt like tearing off her skin as if it were a garment.
Random thoughts flicked through her dazed brain - Harry making love to her, his long rangy cock reaching far, far inside - Don, big and burly, his arms crushhig her in their goodizight kiss - her own reflection, languid at first but now a tossing pivot of desive, whipped to a frenzy by its twin on the other side of the mirror ...
Her fingers danced inside her, scouring her hungry vaginal walls, her pussy grounding down mercilessly on the laboring finger.
And then the gentle rain became a roaring torrent, lashing down on her, disintegrating her body into a million particles, loosening the landslide of her pent-up desire, and she was cumming! Cumming as she had not done for a long time, the passionate river inside her overflowing and bursting open the s l u i c e g a t e s flooding her very being. Strangled gasps escaped her lips as her body twisted and flailed and her hands became wet from the generous gushing of her vaginal juices. Still moaning, her body atremble from the storm of her release, she sank in a golden, satiny heap on the floor.
Meanwhile, Don had continued to watch the masturbating woman as he pumped at his own engorged cock. Christ, he thought to himself, his eyes burning feverishly, she's really hot now! What a woman she is! Her moans were floating out through the window dissolving in the still night air and. Don, closing his eyes for a moment, imagined that he was there, inside the bathroom, with her, and that the soothing yet stimulating pressure he was exerting on his own cock was actually the rhythmic clasping of her cunt walls, grasping greedily at his member, trying to engulf it completely. He could almost feel her milky thighs grabbing his pelvis and holding him in a vise-like grip and he could smell the musky female odor of her as he kneaded the full ripe orbs of her breasts in his hands. He tasted again the sweetness of her lips on his, growing into a bruising demand and the erotic sensation of her churning tongue dancing with his. He could feel the intensity, the yearning, growing in her body as he fucked into her, and the fury developing earthquake-proportions in his balls was the result of his desire to drown her pussy with his semen. And then he couldn't wait any longer. The seething white fluid demanded release and rumbling along the mountainside of his cock like molten lava, emptied in a streaming jet deep up into her thirsting belly. Only she wasn't there! The hot stickiness of the semen trickling into his still-pumping hand and the strangled cries coming from the bathroom crashlanded him back into reality, and he was just in time to see Shirley's sweat glistening nakedness flailing about as she crammed her fingers almost violently into her hungry pussy, and as if in answer, a rush of orgasmic juice running down over her fingers.
His own cock was still jerkingly alive, a web of cum sailing on the light breeze. His body felt as if it had been dragged through a grinder but still he couldn't tear himself away from his vantage point outside Shirley's window. Even when, after collapsing on the bathroom floor, she finally staggered into the other room, he remained there, staring dazedly into the empty room, as if he expected her to return.
Chapter 4
"But Don," Karen cried, "you can't go!"
"What d'ya mean, `I can't? I have to!" Don answered angrily.
"C-couldn't you get out of it? There must be some way. After all, you're supposed to be retired.
"That has nothing to do with it. I'm in the Special Reserves, our unit was called up and that's that! I'll be leaving in two weeks.
"B-but what about the store, Don?" Karen asked timidly.
"Damn the store!" her husband snapped. "You know it's not working out and I'm sick to death of it! We'll close it and forget about it."
"But-but what about all the money we've put into it?" Karen said quietly.
"You mean your money, don't you?" Don sneered. "Well, you can forget about that. Write it off as a bad investment, like me."
Karen blanched. Although she knew she had mentioned "her money" more than once in regard to the store, purely in an effort to prod Don, through conscience, if nothing else, to take a better interest in it, she felt his stinging remark was unfair. She was only trying to help him, make a better life for both of them, and this was all the thanks she got for it. No one could deny that their marriage, to say the least, was on very shaky ground. She recalled the endless days of bickering and quarrelling, and interminable nights of gritting her teeth and bearing her husband's lovemaking. She could hardly think about that without recoiling. Every night was almost as bad as the first time on their wedding night in September, and now, months later, the pain, though imaginary, seemed vivid enough to be actual.
"So get my uniforms ready." Don's commanding voice broke in on her thoughts.
"But Don," she began again. "You can't go over to Viet Nam again. Everyone just everyone knows it's an immoral war and your participation makes you as bad as everyone else involved in it."
Don whirled around, his eyes blazing.
"Since when did you subscribe to the radical views that are all the rage now? `Immoral war'" he mimicked. "Where did you pick up that little phrase?"
Karen's face crimsoned. She felt like crawling into a hole. Don could never accept that she might have views of her own, always accusing her of bandying other people's words around or developing false interests.
"You know the war's all wrong!" she said in a small, but determined whisper.
"It's the lay-abouts that people like you support, that should be over there, not decent hardworking people like myself. Blood and guts, and a little less of that long hair they're so fond of hiding behind, and they might resemble something like men. Trouble with you is you don't know, nor want to know what a real man is!"
Panting from his speech, Don slammed the door and went out.
Karen sat silently, quivering with suppressed indignation, and trembling with fear of her husband's wrath. She didn't know what she was going to do. She'd have to close up the shop herself and probably take up her old job again. And then there was Champ, Don's son. Apprehension raced through her mind at the thought of being alone with him during the approaching spring vacation from Military School. The few times she'd seen him were so nerve-wracking for her that she was almost afraid now to mention her fears about him to Don. Champ seemed so self-possessed - far more so than is usual for a boy at fourteen, and he had the same authoritarian, intolerant manner as his father. However, he too could be very charming, Karen knew, having observed him with people he liked, and his tall, fair good looks made him seem older than he was. But he was utterly disdainful of her, regardless of how friendly she tried to be towards him and sometimes, she caught him looking at her with something akin to hatred blazing in his eyes. She knew that he idolized the memory of his mother, whom he never knew, and regarded Karen as an intruder trying to take her untouchable place. Moreover, on the few occasions when she expressed concern to Don over Champ, he had assured her, almost scornfully, that his son was man enough to take care of himself, and discouraged any further comment.
Now, rising wearily, she went in search of Don's old uniforms, reflecting how in some ways, she was really glad he was going.
* * *
The ride to the airport was almost intolerable. Champ had arrived home early that morning and was furious on finding that his father was leaving for Viet Nam that day. Don hadn't written to tell him, preferring to see him in person, but Champ had stayed a few days at a friend's home in Hatteras, and so was delayed in getting home. He seemed, inexplicably to Karen, to blame her for Don's departure and was barely civil to her all day. Now, feeling like a scolded child, she sat in the back of the station wagon, and Don and Champ talked about the Army in the front seat.
Champ had begged to be sent to Military School when he was twelve, and had since been attending one in Virginia. He intended to be a career man like his father, and although he held slightly less conservative views, still basically agreed with him on most issues. Being away at school for most of the year and being accustomed to his father's company at home, tended to make him more mature in some respects, while at the same time, strengthening a self-indulgent and somewhat sadistic streak that was already there.
Karen heaved a sigh of relief when they finally reached Friendship Airport in Baltimore. They were in plenty of time for his flight to Los Angeles, so they were able to have a drink in the airport lounge. The drinks helped. Don became more cheerful, Karen less tense, and even Champ, who only had a Coke, was fairly friendly. They were all chatting pleasantly when Don's flight was announced.
To her surprise, he embraced her tenderly, kissing her gently on the lips. Immediately, she felt the sorrow and loneliness she used to feel when saying good-bye to him before they were married, and tears brimmed up in her eyes.
Don shook his son firmly by the hand, while he, manfully, addressed his father as "Sir." To an outsider, they looked like a nice affectionate service family, rather typical, faced with one of the vicissitudes of Army life.
"Now you take good care of your new mother, Champ," Don ordered in mock severity, "I want her safe and sound when I come back."
Champ drew back, his face white with anger.
"She's not my mother!" he spat through clenched teeth, and without another word, melted into the milling crowd.
Karen, on the point of tears already, burst into frightened sobs, and Don, for once at a loss for words, stood by helplessly, until moments later, he too left on the announcement of the final call for his flight, leaving Karen utterly alone.
Chapter 5
Champ carefully locked his bedroom door and then went over to the bed, where his own private "treasures" were laid out. These consisted of carefully collected and hoarded photographs and papers, which he kept in a locked drawer in the dressing table. Next time, he was determined to take them with him back to school after vacation, because she'd probably be nosing around and find them. Now, joyfully he mused over the collection he hadn't seen since Christmas. First, as always, he looked at the picture of his parents on their wedding day. His father, dashing in his Army uniform, his mother, tall, blond and beautiful in her long dress, certainly a thousand times more beautiful than her! Next, a large picture of his mother when she was eighteen. Her blond hair was shoulder-length and parted on the side. She was seated sideways, but smiling into the camera, her teeth, even and white, slightly parted. Her breasts, high and pointed, curved out through her sweater and her legs, visible only from well below the knee in the rather long skirt, looked slim and shapely.
Champ thought he'd never seen anyone so beautiful, and would sometimes spend hours just looking at the photograph. Of late, he found himself drawn more and more to the curve of her breasts and the sweep of her thigh, but he still loved her as a mother. Why did she have to die? The three of them could have been so happy together, going e v e r y w h e r e as a family, his mother always young and smiling like in the picture.
Slowly, he put aside this most treasured photograph and examined the rest of his oddments. A few photographs of his father in Germany and the Far East, a clipping from a newspaper about his receiving a Silver Star for bravery in Korea, a picture of himself in his first Military School uniform.
Lastly, his latest acquisition, something he hardly dared look at himself, and his hand quivered as he drew it out of the protective envelope. It was a photograph in color of Karen, his stepmother - completely n u d e! !" Even now, months later, he could hardly believe the circumstances which enabled him to take such a photograph. He was home on Christmas vacation and had gone out in the snow with his friends, taking his camera. Returning home several hours later, he let himself in quietly, not wishing to run into his new- stepmother.
To his delight, he heard her taking a bath, so he stayed in the living room. He discovered that he had only one shot left, and wishing to use up the roll in order to have it developed quickly, he looked around for a likely subject. Just then, Karen, thinking she was alone, had, incredibly, padded slowly and silently, completely naked in the warm apartment, from the bathroom to the bedroom. Almost without thinking, Champ took a photograph of her as she passed between the two rooms. Fortunately, lost in her own thoughts, she had not heard the click.
An older boy at school developed and printed photographs at a small fee to his customers, so Champ was easily able to obtain the print he now held.
He examined it intently, and not for the first time. It wasn't a very clear photograph, but Champ could seethe small fleshy bulbs of her breasts and the curved arc of her smooth rounded buttocks as she took a step forward. Her hair was hanging limply, and there was a tired, unhappy look on her face. He couldn't see the vee of her legs although he had spent ages looking at the spot, hoping to catch a view of her soft curling pubic fleece.
Somehow having this photo gave him a feeling of power over his stepmother, something that he felt he could use to make her go away and never come back into their lives. He felt as if he knew her body intimately, he was so familiar with every line of it from the photograph, and this feeling gave him a curious sense of satisfaction. A knot of anger tightened his stomach as he thought about her. She had entered his father's life through trickery, he was sure of that, so perhaps she'd leave it the same way. He was certain that she had used some deception on Don to make him marry her - why else would he desert the memory of his mother? She was nothing but a tramp, walking around naked like that, and tricking his father into marrying her ...
"Champ, dinner is ready!"
The sound of Karen's voice doubled his anger and his hands formed into fists. Bitch, he muttered to himself, trying to win him over by pretending to be friendly. Well it wouldn't work on him, she'd find that out. He wasn't going to be fooled, like Dad. He'd show her...
* * *
The ordeal of dinner was over. Karen gratefully poured herself some coffee and then went into the kitchen to get some milk for Champ. She knew she'd be glad to see the end of this day. Champ was waiting for her in the car park at the airport when she had finally left the terminal, and he was sullen and morose. And now he was acting so strangely at dinner - staring fixedly at her with his deep blue eyes, and several times she had caught him with his eyes glued on her breasts. A young boy like that, yet the intensity of his stares made her feel very uncomfortable and she had the feeling she was alone with a strange man, and not just a boy!
Sipping her coffee, she began to feel relaxed. Perhaps tomorrow will be better, she mused. After the tension of Don leaving, we're both bound to be upset. She began to clear away the dishes, but felt suddenly as if all the energy was being drained from her. She had to lie down ... .
"Champ dear, I'm going to take a nap. You'll be all right here by yourself, won't you? You can watch television if you like ... ."
To her surprise, Champ replied cheerfully:
"Of course, Karen, you must be dead tired after such a long day. I'll be fine."
Gratefully, Karen closed the door softly behind her. She felt almost pleasantly drowsy, and feeling that she might sleep the whole night through, slipped off her dress and put on her long white cotton nightdress. She stretched out blissfully on the bed, and almost immediately, the room began to float around her and she felt as light as a cloud, warm and soft.
"Mmmmmm ..." she sighed, "I haven't felt so relaxed in ages. It must be the relief of finally being alone, without Don ..." Her thoughts were lost as she slipped into a calm, untroubled sleep.
* * *
Hardly daring to breathe, Champ slowly opened the door into Karen's room. It was still light and he could see her breathing evenly as she lay there. She was still lying on the counterpane, and her long gown covered her chastely from head to toe. His eager eyes took in the slight swelling of her breasts and his heart began to thump irregularly.
Softly, he closed the door behind him, and then waited, with bated breath. But there was no change in her rhythmic breathing and he began to edge c l o s e r to the bed. Her eyes were clenched shut as if in a deep sleep, yet she looked as if she were just lightly resting. He wondered if she suspected anything. She had been looking at him in a questioning way all through dinner and he felt that somehow she must know everything and was ready for him. But she seemed to be peaceful enough and Champ knew that the two sleeping pills he'd dropped in her coffee when she'd gone to fetch his milk were potent enough to make her sleep all night.
He had reached the bed now and was staring down at her with a mixture of desire and loathing. He couldn't take his eyes off her pale, beautiful little face, framed by her dark hair and the slight pout which formed on her lips while she slept gave her a gamine-like sexiness. Champ felt a quickening of his blood as he gazed down at her and pin-pricks of desire began to prod at him, deep in the pit of his belly. Maybe he should leave now, forget about his plan while he still had time. The sight of her unlined and innocent-looking face, completely vulnerable, gave him a twinge of conscience and he wondered if he hadn't been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he thought - maybe she really loved his father and wanted to help them both. But then another image flashed through his mind - that of a smiling, blond eighteen-year-old girl and r e s e n t m -e n t once more crowded in. His mother was the one who should be here now - not this one ...
He reached one hand down to the hem of her nightgown and slowly pulled it up over her slim girlish hips, her smooth white belly over her small firm little breasts, up to her neck, until her whole naked body was exposed to him. He had never seen anything like it. Even the glimpse he had had of her when he took the photograph hadn't prepared him for the wonder of her body helplessly spread out beneath him. Her thighs were slightly apart and he could see the pink tip of her slit peeping out from the wisps of dark hair, like an inviting beacon. Her nipples, blush pink and inverted like twin eyes, dark against the ivory of her breasts.
His chest felt as if it would explode from the hammering of his heart and his prick was a painful bulge at the junction of his legs, which felt so weak that he was afraid he'd collapse. Silently, he opened the fly of his pants, and the ache in his cock subsided in its freedom. It hung out of his pants, large and heavy for a fourteenyear-old, a slight smear of premature seminal fluid sleeking the swollen head. Shaking, he moved his hand over the perfect orbs of her breasts, tweaking gently at the nipples, which responded automatically with turgid firmness to his touch. He wondered at his own boldness as his hands roamed, almost independently of him, over her satiny skin. Karen shifted slightly then and Champ froze, his hand poised above her aroused nipples, but she continued to slumber.
He resumed his illicit caressing, tracing his fingers up and down her silky flesh, noting the tiny goosebumps which sprang out all over her skin.
He was kneeling on all fours now, licking his lips greedily as his eyes drank in the inviting nakedness of her. Gently, he pushed her soft yielding thighs further apart. He peered down to get a closer look at the tempting sight before him until his eyes were only a few inches away from the softly bearded lips of her vagina. He could see it palpitatingly soft, its delicate pinkness throbbing gently in unaware, but pleasurable expectancy. Suddenly, instinctively, he knew what he wanted to do. With terrifying slowness, he reached out with his tongue and tentatively touched the moist, sensitive slit.
His stepmother shifted again and murmured. She felt so warm and relaxed and now, deep in her pill-drugged mind, Don had come back to her.. At first, she hadn't been sure but now she was, because he was doing something he always wanted to - he was kissing her there, between her open thighs, and the strange thing was, she didn't mind at all. It felt good to have her husband do that - now maybe everything would be all right between them. She didn't know why she never let him do it before, why she denied herself this pleasure of his mouth on her open pussy, his tongue circling her clitoris, teasing the erogenous tip, his lips sucking, drawing out the nectarine sweetness of her pussy juices, coaxing the sensitive fleshy folds into trembling rigidity.
"Oooooooohhhhhhhhh..." she moaned, her head swaying from side to side. Champ froze. She was awake! He waited. But no, she didn't move for a moment, and then, her own hands began to move erotically up and down her sides, softly caressing her hips, her belly, her thighs.
She likes it! Champ thought bewildered . .. the bitch likes it ... I knew she was like that ... He continued to probe with his tongue, gradually discovering the most sensitive areas, licking the tender moist flesh, swirling his organ around in her dark secretive places, darting at the tight elastic-like opening of her pussy.
Her hips ground automatically into the bed and her whole body squirmed in passion. She voluntarily spread her legs apart, flexing her demented pussy in desirous offering. She began to moan again, deep guttural moans.
"Oh Don darling... it's so good ... don't ever go away again ... it's so gooooodddd She had never known it would be like this, and now her drugged body called out for the satiation it had been so long denied. This was the real Don, gentle, patient, doing kind loving things to her, driving his tongue around and around in the sensitive little folds of her pussy, sucking the soft, gently pulsating flesh into his damp mouth.
She really wants it now ... Champ chuckled, gloating over his victory of her body. The bitch thinks I'm Dad, but I bet she never felt like this before with him ... Somehow that thought added fuel to his decision and desire to subjugate her, because that's what he wanted to do, make this woman who intruded on their lives submit to him, learn that he wasn't to be treated lightly, like a child. Also, although he hardly dared admit this to himself, it would pay Dad back too, for shaming Mother, trying to get someone to take her place, when no one, NO ONE, could do that ...
This last thought made him ram his tongue up far inside the tight viscous opening of his stepmother's cunt, wringing a surprised cry from her semi-conscious body. The clinging walls closed in hungrily around his tongue and began a rhythmic clasping motion, as if she were trying to rip his tongue from its roots and swallow it in her depths. He was beginning to feel lightheaded himself as he breathed in the pungent odor of her flowing juices and the drubbing ache in his cock reminded him that he couldn't hold out any longer.
He was really surprised at the way she responded. He meant to humiliate her, by taking her against her will, when she was a helpless slave to the sleeping pills he'd given her; but instead, she wanted it, really wanted it! His brief experience with women, limited to short sessions at Christmas time with Carmen, the sister of his friend, Carlo, had not prepared him for this lust-craved reaction on the part of his stepmother. But maybe it was better still that she wanted it so badly. Everytime he saw her in the future, he'd know, and she could treat him as condescendingly as she liked, but he'd know, and she wouldn't.
Karen felt empty. The delicious licking had stopped, just when she needed it to go on. But now she could hazily see Don hovering over her, kneeling on the bed, his cock dangling out in front of him. She used to hate that thick ugly monster, but now she liked it, wanted it - she was still just a little bit afraid of it, but she still had to have it in her.
"Don?..." she murmured... "ooohhh darling ..."
Champ edged up closer between her limply open thighs, his rock-hard young penis inches away from the moist, panting mouth of her desire-drenched pussy. She still thought he was his father, but she'd soon know the difference after he was finished fucking her. Fresh anger welled up in him, and he tremblingly placed the smooth rubbery head against the tight throbbing lips of her vaginal orifice. He could feel the tickling flesh grazing the sensitive head of his cock and he could sense the eagerness, the hunger in her body for what he had to offer.
He lurched forward and Karen felt the familiar prelude to the harsh raking pain she dreaded so much. The iron hardness of the inflated head of his prick scraped the delicate inner flesh of her open vagina and he plowed forward, again, and this time the long thick rod sliced unimpeded through the slightly lubricated channel.
"Noooooo ... Don ... please nooooooo ... ! !" She was wrong! This time was just like the others. But the pain, searing and cruel, engulfed her for a moment, and then, miraculously, as soon as it had begun, it began to subside and she felt grateful to her husband for making it easier for her this time.
Champ was happy when he heard her cry out in slight pain - he liked the idea of her being hurt, and knowing that he could hurt her physically, this way. He continued to surge his way further, each forward shove on his part burying his young, boyish pole deeper in the still-resisting cunt of his stepmother. He could feel her recoil from each of his advances and took pleasure in knowing that she did not, could not forcibly resist him. Then finally, his rampaging prick was as far as it would go. It was buried to the hilt in her pussy flesh and he could feel the tight walls of her vagina contracting on the invader inside. His balls were nestled tight down between the smooth spheres of her gently squirming buttocks and he could see the crinkled pink edges of her cunt rimming the thick sturdy base of his cock, her darkly glistening pubic hairs joining with his lighter ones.
Karen squirmed helplessly against the immovable impalement. The pain, though it had lessened considerably, was still there and every breath she took seemed to suck his prick still further into her open cuntal passage. She had never let him put it in so deep before - it felt as if it went right up inside her, clear past her stomach. She felt as if she would never walk again, she was so split apart. The rubbery head was pressing hard up against her cervix and her ovally stretched pussy walls could feel every vein and web of its long surface. Desperately, she tried to clench her cunt muscles tightly together, to ward off the thick intruding rod, but her convulsive tightening only seemed to excite and encourage it to burrow even deeper inside her.
Champ looked, down at her, a triumphant sneer lewdly contorting his young face. He had Melt the slight pressure she had exerted on his penis and in answer, began to gently rotate the buried rod deep inside her. She moaned again, the slight motion stirring up the fragments of pain that lay like sediment at the bottom of a well. He continued to revolve it around inside her, feeling her rigid interior walls ease as they became accustomed to the presence of his thick flesh and then he gradually began to slip the long sheath out. He could almost see her face clear with relief as she felt the retreating penis moving out, and he immediately rammed forward again with all his might, c l u t c h i n g cruelly at her buttocks as he did so.
"AAAAAAAaaaaggggghhhhhhh ..." she screamed ... "No, Don... Oh, God, please No.. . !" The force of his thrusting entry spread her legs wide apart and they jackknifed up on either side of Champ's lean form. She lay there, totally impaled again on her stepson's thick penis, and Champ watched her with satisfaction glittering cruelly in his young eyes.
Karen held her breath as she felt the young, boyish instrument expanding inside her soft inner depths. In her semi-conscious state, her eyes clenched shut, and her mouth hinged open wildly. Champ began to flex his cock inside her, setting up a slow, teasing rhythm. He could feel her answering throbs, tentative at first, but stronger as her nostrils began to flare and then she began a faint mewling of pleasure.
Karen's body felt itself coming to life now. The pain had almost completely disappeared and an electric tingle was beginning inside her, deep down inside her womb and was working its way up her body, sending goosebumps into infinitesimal erection along her skin, and shooting out maddeningly to her fingers and toes. Her hips began to roll under his grinding pelvis and her fingers were digging into the bedspread, her fingernails scraping along its satiny surface. This was so good - everything would be okay now between her and Don - they were one at last - nothivg could come between them now!
Champ labored over her, greedily watching down between their naked bodies as her pink hungry pussy grabbed eagerly at his skewering cock, trying desperately to suck it inside even faster than his forceful surges. He felt a curious pleasure in watching her lust-crazed loins strain up against him, the thighs crushing his pelvis, trying to force him harder, faster, into her. He let her trembling, feverish body pump up and down on his rigid driving pole, and mused gloatingly. If only she knew that it was he, Champ, who was fucking into her and to whom she was returning thrust for thrust so eagerly. He, who she always treated as a child, as if he were seven. He almost felt like waking her up, forcing her to realize and see for herself how he had mastered her. But he knew he'd better not, not this time.
Karen felt as if her body were on fire. She could hear the wet sucking sound of her husband's hardened cock as it fucked in and out of her and strange tremors were convulsing her body. Her head was beginning to spin, round and round and she began to buck up wildly against him, almost involuntarily screwing her burning pussy up tightly on his plunging rod. Her hands shot forward and seized her husband, her nails digging into his buttocks, and began to pull him even harder down into her, as if she were afraid he was going to stop at any moment. She had never, in all her life, felt like this before. A giant water-spout had caught her and she was being buffeted about on its very top, only she wasn't frightened, not frightened at all, as the whirling water tossed her gently around and then she was spinning with it, faster and faster and -
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH ..." she screamed suddenly, "I'm cumming now! Don darling, I'm cuuummmmiiinnngggg ..." The whirlpool held her right in its very middle, and she felt so warm and safe, snug in the center as it slowly released her and let her drift gently to the moist cool sea bottom, where she could rest undisturbed.
A dreamy sigh escaped her. She had never known it would be like this, or that she would ever experience the feeling of having her own climactic juices flow down like a gentle rain. She had had her first climax, and she liked it! God, how she liked it, but now, now she wanted to feel Don's cum exploding inside her - wanted him to experience the same intense peak she had just crested with him. This time she wanted to be a partner in his joy.
She continued to push her moisture-soaked cunt firmly up against his laved penis, and ins t i n c t i v e l y, she reached down under her upraised thigh and grasped his swinging balls in her palm. Her fingers played with the soft contracting skin and she felt the solidity of the sperm-bloated testes as she cupped them lovingly. They felt nice. not at all like she expected them to feel, and she continued the gentle massage she was giving them almost reverently.
Champ had almost lost control when she had cum and had to fight to stop himself from losing his load inside her, right then and there.. But first, he wanted to see her in the ultimate subjugation, twisting and writhing under the orgasm he had produced in her. It had pleased him greatly to see her so completely abandoned to lust, and it increased his pleasure a thousandfold to realize that he had succeeded where his father had failed. He had unleashed her latent passion in one night, where his father had failed for months to do so! Now he could hardly wait to spew his illicit seed into her churning little belly, where his own father had often ejaculated before. And, what excited him even more, he might get her pregnant and she would never even know it was him! He began long hard strokes into the now greedily-enlarged sheath and inside her, the mouth of her womb flared in a desperate attempt to envelop the hardened head in its warm smooth depths. The cum was building up inside his balls, which his stepmother was now milking frantically and already he could feel the eruption deep in their secret sacs as the imprisoned liquid was finally released, to dash headlong into the willing, waiting receptacle.
Karen, too, was aware of his imminent orgasm and was eagerly waiting for the torrent of hot white juice to fill her longing belly. She wanted her darling Don to fill her completely with his hot, white cream and as she felt the first jets shoot into her already saturated passage, she wished she could see her husband's face, joyous as he must be in her final acceptance of him. If only she could see him ...
Even in her drugged state, her tremendous desire to see, really see her husband in the throes of ecstasy, mustered up the willpower to open her eyes.
For a moment, everything was hazy, but then her vision clearing, she reached up on an elbow, and groggily tried to find her husband's face with her hand as he pumped his creamy fluid into her.
"Don ... darling Don..." she murmured.
Karen, her eyes now focused, stared in disbelief and horror. It wasn't Don that was plunging between her legs... ! it wasn't Don who had given her such a violent release ... ! it wasn't Don who was now shooting his sperm into her ... ! it was ... !
"NNNO00000000 ... ! Oh, God in heaven, Nooooo ... !" She screamed, her frightened, horrified voice like a banshee in the night, as unconsciousness once more plunged her into darkness.
Chapter 6
The morning sun soon flooded the room where Karen lay asleep, forming little patterns on the floor, dancing cheerily along the walls, beckoning the sleeping woman to get up and live another day. With a moan, she forced her eyes open, and then at once shielded them from the glare of the sun. Seeing the bedroom in its usual sensible order somehow heartened hersomething was at least the same! Painfully, she pulled herself into a sitting position. Sometime during the night, she had slipped between the sheets, but her nightdress was still in a piteous bundle up around her neck. Disgustedly, she tore it from her body and tossed it into a far corner of the room. Her n i p p l e s gleamed lewdly, teasing her in their unaided erection and angrily, she pulled the sheet up to her chin. Frowning, she tried to remember the dream she had had. It was so vivid, so real and even as she remembered it, the ache in her body told her that it hadn't been a dream.
How could her husband's own son do such a thing? Sneak into her room and - and rape her! Ought she to tell Don - let him know what his son had been up to? The reminder of Don brought back another doubt - hadn't she called out for him, her husband, while her stepson was making love to her? Her inborn honesty prodded her into confessing to herself - hadn't she indeed enjoyed it, deluded, of course, into thinking that it was her lawful husband - enjoyed it nevertheless? Even to the point of experiencing a climax for the first time in her whole life? Her heart pounded uncomfortably and her face burned at the memory, vague through the daze of the drugs he had given her, but clear enough, of herself writhing about, lewdly abandoned to her stepson's desire, urging him on between her widespread legs like a jockey riding a thoroughbred steed! The thought made her shudder and tentatively, she lowered her hand and gingerly felt between her legs. She felt the tender edges of her vagina, bruised and swollen, and the matted pubic hairs, still moist. In horror, she withdrew her fingers, the tips moist with the remnants of her own stepson's cum still lingering in the secret folds between her thighs.
Panic seized her. Would Champ tell Don, insinuating it was all her fault, thus blackening her still further in Don's eyes? The thought filled her with dread. What could she do? Even if she told Don herself, he might not believe that it wasn't her fault! But was it? The question leaped unbidden into her mind. Chills raced along her back. Was it her fault? Had she given her stepson some sign, some indication that she would be willing to submit to him? Her head buzzed and darting pain hammered at her skull until she thought it would burst. Unable to answer her own doubt-racked question, Karen stumbled into the bathroom and hurriedly began to draw the bath. She hardly dared look at herself in the mirror, aware of the bruises and welts and other indications of a night of animal-like love that she'd find on her body.
Gratefully, she sank back in the bathwater, allowing the warm, slightly foamy liquid to ease between her legs, cover her breasts, wash away the evidences of her shame.
She closed her eyes, wearily, questioning her self, again and again. But she had enjoyed it, hadn't she? The words "didn't you, didn't you, Didn't you" seemed to dance around her head, taunting her, until she opened her eyes and realized that it was just the sound of the water still running from the faucet.
No, there was no denying it. She had, indeed, enjoyed her young stepson making love to her, no, fucking her, because that's what it really was, regardless of the circumstances. This admission to herself filled her with loathing. How could she have permitted, let alone enjoyed that crude performance by her fourteen-year-old stepson? The memory of Champ's young penis pounding furiously into her eagerly upturned vaginal passage taunted her, her own lust-filled moans coming back to sound again and again in the small room. Her mind was a chaotic blend of memories, all questioning. Herself, making her first Communion, really entitled to the purity and innocence which her white dress proclaimed; her wedding day, in virginal white, only she wasn't a virgin... ... Do you, Karen ... take this man, Don ... till death do you part ... a little girl asking her teacher, Miss Brown, what is incest? ... Never mind Karen, you never need know about that ...
Incest! That's what it was! Karen sat bolt upright in the tub, the word shocking her out of her torpor. She began to shake. She had made love to her stepson, which was almost like a real son! What made her willingly participate in such a forbidden thing, even though she had been only half-conscious. Nobody, not even the remotest savage tribes in the jungle tolerated intercourse between near relatives, and yet, she had made love right here in her own husband's bed with his own son, on the very day that her husband had gone off to fight in Viet Nam! And she had enjoyed it! Again, the voice of her conscience reminding her of the pleasure she derived from such a wicked act. What kind of person was she, an evil being ... Another memory rushed back to add to her shame. A June night, a shadowy figure in the bedroom - Robert! Her face burned again at the memory. Well, she hadn't enjoyed that! But first her stepbrother, Robert, and now Champ! Did she have some kind of evil attraction that tempted young boys, turned them into sex demons, like the spells cast by those ancient Greek sirens who beckoned seamen away from their wives, with their songs! Was she really capable of bringing out the worst in those two young boys?
She stepped out of the almost cold bath. How could she face Champ again? She had to get away from here from the miasma of doubts and fears, to think calmly and sensibly. Angela! That's right, she'd go to Angela in Philadelphia. Bossy, domineering but superbly organized An gela, who took care of everything. Of course, she wouldn't tell her anything, but just being around her sister would help her think more clearly.
Karen was determined to push the terrifying thoughts to the back of her mind until she was safely ensconced in Angela's sterile guest room. Everything could wait until then - everything. Momentarily cheered by the thought of her sister's antiseptic environment, Karen began to pull her valise from the top of the closet in the bedroom, where she'd left it since her return from her honeymoon. In pulling it down, she dislodged several other boxes which were crammed against the wall. Cursing her awkwardness, Karen stooped to pick up the fallen items. A hatbox, containing two hats which she no longer liked but couldn't bring herself to throw out, a box of Christmas decorations, one of Don's old shoeboxes. Don's private box had fallen too, its metal grating harshly against the floor as it fell open, scattering the contents.
Sighing, she stooped down to assemble the various papers. She had never seen the things Don kept in this locked box, and now, interested in spite of the pall of depression hanging over her, she began collecting the papers, glancing at them as she did so. Insurance policies, for the three of them, their furniture, and some property he had in Western Maryland. Their apartment lease - good for another year. Their marriage certificate, still in its envelope. An inventory of all the hardware in the store. A photograph, of Don's first wife, Karen guessed. She looked at it for a long time, studying her blond hair, her obvious good figure, her dazzling smile. To her own surprise, she wasn't the slightest bit jealous. At another time, she might have been hurt to think Don was hoarding this picture, without letting her see it but now, its importance was minimal compared to the other problems she had. She saw several books, five in all. Curious, she looked at the title of the first one. "Love Slave" she read. Puzzled, she opened it at random.
"... The frightened girl was securely chained and Judd could see every inch, of her superb bronze skin quivering in fear. He let his eye roam unchecked over the full ripe globes of her breasts, the nipples taut in terror, down the smooth stretch of her tanned form to the slight swelling of her belly, further even to the raised mound of her soft pubic triangle, through the forest of which, her pulsating young vaginal slit was faintly gleaming ..."
Karen slammed the book shut, disbelief and shock scurrying like rabbits in the warren of her mind. She couldn't believe what she had read. Hastily, she glanced at the other titles. "The Orgy," "And So To Bed," "Strange Pussy," and "Jungle Madam." Shock paralyzed her as she numbly read the suggestive titles. These books - why did Don have them? Did he get them before they were married or did he buy them to read when he found out what their lovemaking was like? The latter thought filled her with shame while at the same time increasing her curiosity about them. She felt a curious mixture of repulsion and attraction towards the risque books and the latter, triumphing, she reached out timidly for another one.
Immediately, the pages fell open, revealing a cache of photographs, in color. Her pulse racing, Karen carefully picked them up. Her face blanched as she examined the first one.
It showed a girl, her knees drawn up, with her naked vagina clearly exposed to the camera. Good God! Karen thought in horror, how could anyone display themselves willingly like that? But still, in spite of her disgust, her eyes were drawn magnetically to the moist pinkness of the girl's open slit. She could clearly see the thick hair-lined furrow, spread wide to reveal the smooth blush-pink of the ragged-edged inner lips, and the star-shaped vaginal opening which almost seemed to pulse, so alive and realistic was the photograph. The tiny red clitoris was also visible beneath the nest of soft dark pubic hair and the whole photograph was so life-like that Karen felt distinctly embarrassed by it. But she still couldn't stop herself from looking at the next one, which clearly depicted a naked man and woman in the act of intercourse. She gasped aloud as she noted the clarity of the photograph - each minute detail was clear - the thick veinous underside of the man's hardened penis as it disappeared into the gaping hole of the girl's vagina. Karen could see the elasticlike edges of her cuntal mouth clinging to the flesh of her lover's rigid penis and she could just make out the tiny puckered lips of her anus, tucked between the smooth, rounded spheres of her ass. She thought she could see every stray hair, every wrinkle and delineation on the man's pendulous balls as they lay lewdly under his plunging male organ.
Karen's head whirled round and round in disbelief. She couldn't believe that Don, her husband, would actually possess such vile, filthy pictures and keep them among his personal papers, with their marriage certificate! Did he take them out and look at them occasionally, she wondered numbly as she glanced at the other photographs. They all graphically portrayed various poses of the sex act, emphasizing the genital areas of the models, and some even showed models engaged in three and fourway sex. A feeling of revulsion clouded over Karen as she looked at the last of the photographs. What kind of man had she married, she wondered, who could be titillated by such bla tant obscenity?
Karen's breath stopped and her blood rushed to her ears. Her mind reeling in horror, and disbelief, she stared at the picture in her hand. It showed a man, his huge lust-hardened cock standing out erectly like a flag pole, the bluish veins raised obscenely on its long reddish length. A girl, only her profile visible, had enclosed the head in her ripe red lips and the camera had captured a look of absolute bliss on her contorted face. Her hand was covering his balls, just a little of their brownish skin being visible. And the man was Don! She was sure of it. A younger, trimmer Don, but it was her husband without a doubt. A lump rose in Karen's throat and she felt she was going to gag. It couldn't be! It couldn't be! she muttered over and over to herself, but she knew that it was. Tears of anger and disgust welled up in her eyes. To own the pictures was bad enough, but to actually be in one of them, in such a lewd pose, without shame. Through her tears, her gaze fell on the last photograph of all. It showed a young girl, her vagina a brazen pink gash, open and spread to the world, smiling at an approaching man, whose profile was visible, a lascivious smirk on his face. It was, unmistakably, Don! Rage and disgust swept over her. Lousy bastard! she fumed, her anger raking up crude words she seldom used. Involuntarily, she conjured up images in her mind of her husband, his thick lewd penis held aloft, poised at another girl's lips, his fleshy tongue, slavering in anticipation of swirling about in some other girl's proffered cunt. Her brain was reeling from the enormity of the realization that was dawning on her - the reality which this pictorial evidence she held in her own hand seemed to so brazenly point to. What kind of man - what monster, had she married? Her horror and helpless shock turned once more into seething anger and she began to toss the books and photographs back into the box. She had only one thought now and that was to escape escape from the scene where her illusions were so finally shattered. She was almost about to lock the box, after throwing the lewd books and photographs back into it, when she found a folded letter, which she had overlooked, as it was lying under the box itself.
Hastily, she read it.
Dear Sergeant Cook,
We were very glad to receive notification of your
voluntary intention to re-enlist. We have real need of
men of your caliber in the U.S. Army, and it is with
pleasure that we will be sending you re-enlistment
papers very shortly.
Again, thank you and congratulations on what we
believe was a courageous and patriotic decision."
Karen stared at the brief letter. For a moment, she was unable to digest the contents. What did they mean? Don was called up, he didn't re-enlist! Her shocked and betrayed body seemed unable to grasp the truth. He was in the Reserves, wasn't he, but he never mentioned them before that time when he said his unit was called up. And it was all very sudden! Her heart kept screaming - no! no! and her brain shouted coldly yes! yes! He re-enlisted, to get away, to get away from her! Tears blinded her at the thought of the suggestive accusations forming in her brain. Stumbling, she turned to run out of the bedroom, their bedroom.
"Champ! What - what are you doing here?" she asked, sobbing. Champ was standing in front of the closed bedroom door, and was staring silently back at her.
Karen was even more bewildered. What was he doing here? How long had he been standing there, observing her? She tried to walk towards the door, but her feet were like lead. She felt broken in mind and spirit, and wanted to be alone, to think. She finally reached the door, and tried to open it, but the knob wouldn't turn. It was locked!
"Champ! What ... please let me out at once!" She summoned as much authority as she could muster into her voice but her stepson remained unperturbed by her command.
"Champ," she said again, her voice cold and controlled, "let me out of here at once."
Champ, still silent, stared at her hard for a moment and then suddenly grabbed her wrists, his strong talon-like fingers digging cruelly into her slender arms.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, stepmother?" he asked, a curious mocking note in his voice.
"I - I'm ..." she stammered. What had come over him, to make him act in this strange way?
"I saw you looking at those pictures of Dad's," Champ leered, his face ugly with contempt.
"I - I just h a p p e n e d to see them, by accident..." she blurted.
"Did you like them, stepmother ... Did you like them?"
"They were disgusting ... absolutely revolting!" Karen said vehemently.
"You liked them ... I know you did ..." her stepson taunted. "Especially that one of Dad getting ready to have his cock sucked by that girl. I know you really liked that one ..."
"Champ! How how dare you?" she stammered. "Decent people don't do that sort of thing ... I can't see how your father could ... ."
"Or the one of Dad going to lick that girl's cunt, all pink and juicy-"
"Stop it, Champ! Stop it!" Karen cried, her mind boggling. How had she got mixed up in this crazy world of sick, perverse people?
"You'd like to have your pussy k i s s e d, wouldn't you, Karen," Champ jeered again.
"I could - would never, never..." Karen began, the thought of a man's lips closing in on her delicate sensitive flesh, the intimacy of a kiss there, repulsing her.
"But you liked it last night, didn't you? You liked it when I kissed and licked your hot little pussy. You were sighing for it, crying out for more. You loved it, and you'd love to have me lick your little cunt again, wouldn't you?"
"No! No!" Karen screamed, struggling to free herself from her stepson's strong grip.
"Please, let me go!" she begged, tears coursing down her face. "Last night," she blubbered, "I wasn't myself, it was a mistake ... please Champ, leave me alone, I haven't done anything to you."
"But you liked it," Champ began again in his mocking, mesmerizing voice. "And you never liked it before, even with Dad, did you? I've heard you crying for him to stop! But you liked it when I did it, didn't you?"
Karen's mind was a jumbled mass of doubt. What he said was true, but he had no right to hold her like this, humiliate her with his lewd remarks.
"Champ," she pleaded again. "Please let me go, we'll talk about all this later, when we're more relaxed."
"Look," he said suddenly, "your tits are erect. You're excited, aren't you? I can see your nipples standing up through your robe!"
Karen gasped in horror. Her nipples were straining against her robe, as if trying to free themselves, but she wasn't excited, only disgusted by the whole repulsive scene.
"Did the pictures do that to you, or was it me?" he asked, his breath coming in rasps.
"No! No!" she cried again, shaking her head from side to side, trying to clear her numbed brain.
Suddenly, Champ let go of one of her wrists, and sensing an opportunity to escape, she began to tug frantically to release herself from his iron grip. She heard the whirr of metal, and then, aghast, looked down, her eyes drawn magnetically to where Champ was opening the fly of his pants. Her mouth hinged open like a broken door as he withdrew his penis, holding it lewdly in his free hand. It was already large and thick, the long red surface throbbing noticeably, the -bluish burgeoning head bobbing from its rapidly increasing weight. She couldn't take her eyes off it. She was mesmerized by the fleshy protuberance of it, the palpitating veins which rose knottily on its periphery, the tiny glans tip gaping open at the head.
Crazy thoughts spun around in her head like scraps of paper in a wind storm. What was she doing here, her eyes transfixed on her fourteen-year-old stepson's penis? Why was she so fascinated by it, instead of being repelled, as .she should be?
"Do you like it, Karen?" he asked, his hand stroking the thick pole and a breathless tone in his voice. "Remember how it felt, last night, sliding in and out of you, how you tried to draw it deeper and deeper inside you, how the head felt as it smacked against you, how my balls felt slapping against your ass?" His voice became raspier as it chanted on, and he began to run his tongue wildly over his dry lips. His eyes were blazing and Karen thought she could see this young boy's prick expand and grow under her gaze.
His obscene words belied his tender age, and rekindled a spark in her memory, and she began to remember again the feelings she had fought so hard, all morning, to forget. In spite of herself, she remembered the delicious feel of his boyishly virile penis as the head scraped along the tender inner walls of her vagina, how her sensitive membranes recorded every ridge and web on its pleasure-giving surface, the exquisite sensation of her pussy-lips clinging tenaciously to the departing head and contracting eagerly on the thick base as the rod sank back inside her. A wave of dizziness overcame her at the memory, and now Champ's free hand had left his cock and was travelling up her robe. It was cupping her breast, squeezing it appreciatively, rolling the little berry of her nipple between thumb and finger, coaxing it into full turgidity. She felt as though, she was not herself at all, she was some other woman ... a woman who was enjoying this!
"Mmmmmmmm ..." she moaned, l e a n i n g helplessly against her stepson. It felt oddly good to relax against his chest, his casual tweaking of her breast having a somehow soothing effect on her. She needed someone to take care of her, to make her forget her troubles. To understand her and sympathize with her, not like Don. Don! the thought of her husband sent tension running back into her veins, freezing her flesh. Don! How he had deceived her, letting her believe that his past was as clear and blameless as hers, assuring her that he loved her, while at the same time t r e a t i n g her coarsely and roughly in bed, never taking time to be gentle with her. And the pictures - how he could have posed for such lewd photographs and then tried to make her do the same unnatural acts in the name of love. She shuddered involuntarily as her thoughts ran on. And now, he had signed up with the Army again, not caring about the fact that she was alone, leaving her to take care of closing up the shop, looking after Champ. He didn't care about her, that was obvious, otherwise he would never have decided to go off as he did.
Her eyes wandered back to her stepson's penis. It was so big for such a young boy, almost as big as Don's, but somehow, it wasn't as repulsive, as frightening. Yes, she was sure of that. It didn't seem as if it would hurt her, like Don's did, and she wasn't really afraid of it at all. Both his hands were stroking her now, comforting her as if she were the child. She was dimly aware of his hands fumbling at the belt of her quilted robe. She knew she ought to stop him, but somehow it didn't seem to matter. She felt her robe fell open, and then his warm hands were on her naked breasts, kneading them, squeezing the already taut nipples. He was murmuring incoherently in her ear, his lips soft and moist against her hair. He wasn't holding her by her wrist either, and yet she didn't feel like running away. She just wanted to stay here in her young stepson's arms for a little while, mesmerized by his words, until she felt better. She knew, she just knew that this boy would make her troubles evaporate ...
Champ smiled to himself as he felt her relax against him. He had her where he wanted her now, and this was much better now - she was aware of what she was doing, not drugged like last night. She was in his power all right, and from now on, she always would be!
He continued to stroke the older woman's breasts and then his hands dropped and slid along the trembling curve of her side, down to her hips, around to the flare of her naked buttocks. He was standing almost directly behind her and sensed the quickening of her breath as she felt the rise of his cock digging into her soft buttocks, as all the while his busy hands were caressing the tender, pliant flesh of her hips.
Karen felt in a complete state of lethargy. She knew she shouldn't be here, a sudden and willing partner to what was happening, but somehow she couldn't, didn't want to pull away. Her heart was swollen with the ache caused by Don's trickery and knowledge of the humiliation and degradation he'd caused her by his final act of desertion made her feel nothing but loathing for him. She needed desperately to be loved, and here was Champ, her young stepson, offering her love and consolation.
She felt his hard rod of flesh digging into her buttocks and involuntarily, flared her ass cheeks allowing him to slip the pulsating boyish member between the fleshy folds. His hands felt so good all over her, like a warm massage and she could feel herself melting into his embraces. Then his hand was trailing down in a tremulous path, past her swelling belly, to the warm, curling fleece which was exposed and naked between her legs. She jerked back against him at the electrical tingle of his touch on her sensitive pubic mound, and she moaned softly as his fingers began to insinuate themselves into the damp furrow of her cunt. Hardly daring to breathe, she braced herself for the feeling of anguish and revulsion which she was sure would come, just as it always did. But nothing happened, nothing but the warm erotic flush which was spreading up her body from the magical spot between her thighs, emanating like the rays of the sun from her burning loins. His fingers continued to probe, testing and teasing the rapidly excited flesh, dipping and darting into her most secret recesses. Then she was moaning wildly, squirming madly under his scalding probes, feeling his middle finger burrow deeper and deeper into her readily opening pussy lips. She spasmed with jolts of pleasure as his finger came into direct contact with the pulsing tip of her awakened clitoris. Ceaselessly, he teased the erotic little button, wringing further sighs of pleasure from Karen, who was half swooning now, leaning heavily against him for support.
Champ chuckled evilly to himself. Now she was ready. After this, she'll never be .satisfied with, Dad again. She wants it stow, too, nothing else matters to her. Gently, he guided her over to the bed, where she obediently lay, her eyes staring meekly into his, like a trusting lamb. Her robe lay open, her upswept breasts firmly pointed, and the whole line of the front of her body, from neck to thigh, was completely visible.
Champ was leaning over her, his penis still lewdly dangling and he was beginning to strip off his clothes. She watched him in wonder. All this was new to her. She felt like she no longer controlled her actions, she was just a puppet whose strings were firmly held by this young boy who now stood completely nude in front of her. Her eyes fell again to the huge, bloated instrument hovering over her and she again remembered from last night the feel of it burrowing deep inside her. A flutter of fear flitted through her and was gone instantaneously and then she heard Champ crooning.
"I'm going to fuck you now, Karen, fuck you good ... ." His lewd use of the words sent an excited shiver coursing through her. Her cunt was still burning from the touch of his fingers and seemed to be crying out for a continuation of the initial pleasure it enjoyed. She felt the bed give as Champ sunk down on it and he was hovering over her and was parting her thighs, gently yet firmly, his palms massaging the fleshy inner part as he did so, his backs grazing tantalizingly against the fleece of her pussy.
He sucked in his breath at the inviting sight of her open loins, damp and delicate, the varied pink hues of which reminded him of a rose, ready to be picked. He could see her trembling, half in anticipation and half in fear and he excitedly pushed her thighs further apart. He could see the quickened rise and fall of her flat, white stomach and above it, her breasts stood up like caramelized twin peaks.
He hesitated no longer. Holding his throbbing cock, aching with desire, he guided it towards the moist opening, slightly lubricated from the manual stimulation of a few moments before. He held it poised there, the hard rubbery head braced against the slightly nibbling viscous opening, savoring the moment of entry.
Karen felt the first hard contact of cock on soft vaginal skin with trepidation. She felt a mixture of dread and exhilaration - dread at the thought that this time might be as bad as all the other times - exhilaration from the sense of freedom she felt at her decision, at first unclear even in her own mind, but now of an undeniable clarity, to let her young stepson have his way with her. After all, her whole world had been shattered now. She felt as if she had no husband - so repelled was she by the thought of Don. Hadn't she the right to clutch at whatever small pleasure might be left for her?
Just then, Champ pressed up higher between her voluntarily spread thighs and Karen, sen sing his approach immediately tensed up, contracting her vaginal walls violently, denying her stepson entry to her body. Without hesitating, Champ grunted and again pressed forward with all his might, his fingers digging into Karen's thighs, steadying her.
"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH ..." s h e screamed as the rigid pole of flesh made contact and wormed past her petal-like opening and buried its giant head in her soft inner depths.
"N o o o o o o ... stop it ... you're killing me..." she begged. She fought wildly to escape the cruel cudgel which skewered her, but every struggle seemed to lodge the distended penis deeper inside her. Giving her a moment to adjust herself to the alien mass inside her, Champ then flexed his cock and began to ease forward slowly, inch by torturous inch, until, finally, the whole incredible length of his shaft was buried inside her.
"Oh God..." she moaned. If she'd known it would be like this, she'd never have submitted so willingly. She could feel the hard head nibbling at her cervix, still sore from last night's rape and she began to grit her teeth, hoping for it to be over. Champ began to withdraw his cock, pulling it out easily of the distended passage. Again, he slipped it inside her, with relative ease, as her bruised vaginal walls began to relax of their own volition.
"Uuuuugggghhhhmnnnnn ..." she moaned as she felt it glide inside the whole length of her tight passage. He began a rhythmic sawing in and out of his stepmother, cupping his hands under her buttocks and raising her up off the bed, affording his plunging member greater access. She began a steady whine, her head flailing from side to side.
"Ooohhhh ... oooohhhh ... ooooohhhhhh ..." she moaned, pinwheels of light dancing around behind her tightly clenched eyes. Something was happening inside her. She was past the line of pain and was tentatively reaching into the realms of pleasure. She began to like the feel of his cock pouring into her, the slicing in and out, the feel of her own responsive pressure on his member.
"OOOOOhhhhh ... it's good! it's good! ... ." she moaned, her pelvis grinding freely up and down.
Champ nodded to himself when he heard her final admission. He had done it! He had brought her to the point where she was enjoying fucking with him, her own young stepson. The sweat was pouring off his face and his broad youthful shoulders were hunched over in determination.
Reaching down, he ground his mouth down on his stepmother's lips, bruising them in a hard, biting kiss, feeling the salt taste of his own sweat as it dripped down on her mouth. He forced his way with his tongue past her unwilling teeth and found her own dormant organ, forcing it to duel with his own, licking the back of her throat with it. She began to respond, her tongue giving little flickering lashes at first, but then emboldened, lashing stronger and harder, her lips answering the quest in his own. Her hands raced up and clasped him around the shoulders, pulling him down harder on her. She rubbed her nipples hard against the sparse hair on his young chest, and ground her maddened pelvis tight up against his pounding belly.
Karen was on fire. Every nerve-ending in her body was a tingle with sensation. Electric sparks seemed to leap out of every pore in her skin and when her child lover had ground his mouth down on hers, her mind immediately noted that this was not the kiss of a boy! She groaned under his fierce fucking, r e t u r n i n g thrust for thrust, keeping up a monotonic whine of "Oh Champ ... Oh Champ... ."
Her hands were digging into his back, slippery from the perspiration which was running in little rivers down his body, urging him on to longer, harder, deeper strokes of his hard driving young cock. This is better, much, better, she thought, than last night. Her legs were wrapped around his lower torso and her heels were drumming wildly on his back. She wanted more of him inside her, more, more!
She was a bird about to take her first flight. She was perched on the edge of a cliff and something out there was beckoning, calling to her. She stretched her wings, reached out, teetered, r e t r e a t e d. But the call was strong. She stretched her long white wings again, and leaned out, and she was there! She was flying, up, up, soaring on pure white wings towards the sky.
"AAAAAAaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh ... !" she screamed ... "I'm ... oh God, I'm ... ccuuummmiiiiinnnggg ..." her arms were flapping like wings as each gust of pleasure bore her like a bird in the wind higher and higher till she was lost in the clouds, soft and fluffy, and then she was drifting, gliding, falling gently to rest on the soft, woolly clouds, white as lambswool beneath her. Her breath came in gasps as the last of her cum juice trickled down onto Champ's still pistoning cock, drenching it completely, and falling in a dribble onto the bed. Her body was in a state of suspended animation, oblivious now to everything but the rhythmic pumping of her young lover's bursting penis.
His face was reddened and contorted and he was on the verge of releasing his boiling sperm into her sodden depths.
"Fuck back ... fuck ... back ..." he panted and Karen, not heeding his vernacular term bucked back against him, eager for him too to get his pleasure just as she had. Then she felt his fingers tighten convulsively on her bruised flesh and he began a feverish spasming and then ...
"Aaaaaaahhhhh ... I'm there ... damn you ... I'm cumming!" And he was flailing demonically, his hips battering against her. She felt jet after jet of fluid gushing like geysers deep into her and she revelled in its burning wetness as it seeped into her every crevice. And still it kept cumming, until it ran out of her orifice like tap-water, soaking her thighs and sinking into the bedspread. His semen was like the water of baptism, cleansing her of all her inhibitions, releasing her spirit into freedom. An unassailable happiness gripped her as Champ finally flopped down beside her, his drained penis rapidly deflating inside his stepmother's still sensuously tingling pussy.
Chapter 7
"Is she as good as Carmen?" Carlo asked, breathless from trying to keep up with Champ's long strides.
"Of course she is," Champ retorted, "much better!"
Wow! She must really he great then, Carlo thought in wonder, amazed that anybody could be better than his dark-haired voluptuous and willing sister, with whom he and his best friend, Champ Cook had such a wonderful time during Christmas vacation. Carlo almost had to run to keep up with his friend, who was a head taller, whereas he himself, though on the short side, was more muscular and wiry, which revealed his Spanish blood. His eyes sparkled at the thought of Champ's stepmother, remembering all Champ had told him about her and how he'd been fucking her every day of this past week. Champ had only agreed to bring Carlo along this time as a favor in return for all the visits he'd paid to Carmen.
Now they hurried up the stairs to the apartment, and Champ went right in, beckoning Carlo to follow him. After a glance in the bedroom ascertained that Karen was not there, they went into the sitting room.
Karen was sitting comfortably in the big armchair, idly staring into space, an unopened book beside her on the table. Her thoughts were lost in the events of the past week, the wonderfully long sex-filled nights that she'd passed with her young stepson, lost in around of sensuality that lasted each time until dawn. Each time Champ made love to her, she felt better and better and wanted it more and more, until she could hardly bear for him to be away from her for even an hour. She was a completely changed woman!
She looked up as Champ and Carlo walked into the living room.
"Hello, Champ darling!" she called gaily.
Carlo stared at her, gulping. She was like a vision, curled up on the chair, her feet bare, in a short housecoat the color of rich cream which fell fluidly to just above her knees, covering her sensuous curves like a luscious topping. Her face had taken on a more mature look, her mouth was more sensual and her eyes held a deep promise of mystery and excitement. Champ was right! he thought excitedly. She's better, much better than Carmen.
Karen looked at Carlo with interest. She liked to meet friends of Champ's, to be made even more a part of his life than she was already.
Champ was staring at his stepmother, too. Even he found it hard to believe the wonderful transformation that had come over her in the past week and could hardly admit to himself that he was the cause. He wondered what his father would think of her when he came back, and how he would feel about her emergence from her immature chrysalis into the fullgrown butterfly she was now. Champ's feelings for her had, naturally, undergone a change in the past week. Instead of contempt and loathing, he now felt a little in awe of her and was scarcely aware of the almost imperceptible change in control, leaving him in the position of dependent. Even though she was so much a slave to her body now, the amount of pleasure she gave him seemed like a shackle on him, tying him irrevocably to her.
Now, he went quickly behind the chair while Karen was chatting with Carlo. Almost casually, he dropped his hands and began to massage her breasts, semi-erect already, through the silky cloth. He could feel her nipples growing in his hands, the breasts themselves seeming to strain against his palms. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the sensuously exotic scent she was wearing, trailing hot little kisses down its velvety length. He could just see the juncture of her creamy orbs, and the slight rise and fall of the luscious mounds as her breath quickened. She had dropped all attempts at speech now and had thrown her head back, abandoning herself to the arousal which was rapidly commandeering her body.
Champ gently drew back the folds of her robe and tenderly drew out the succulent boobs. He glanced lovingly at their rich whiteness laced with the faint blue of her veins, and the cherry red buds, alive and tingling which seemed to dance for joy from the touch of his fingers.
Carlo looked on, astonished. At first abashed by Champ's brazenness, he recovered when Karen's ready acquiescence was obvious, and now his eyes were glued on the lovely sweep of her swanlike neck that gently swerved down to the valley of her ivory-sculpted breasts. He watched enviously as Champ pulled and stroked the little points, urging them into granite hardness, fervently wishing he could do the same. But he had to be content to watch as Champ's hands dropped even lower and began to burrow down past her waist to the hidden treasures below. Carlo could see the slight movement of Champ's hand below the robe, probing and searching, eliciting tiny gasps of pleasure from Karen, who was squirming under his searching fingers. He could see a faint blush color her face as flushes of heat warmed her body and her fingers were picking nervously at the arms of the chair. Then Champ had opened her robe and was baring her voluptuous loveliness. He gasped as he saw the continuation of the lovely sweep of her body, down the plane of her belly to the slightly raised mound of her darkly gleaming triangle, resplendent in the afternoon sun, to the fleshy softness of her tempting inner thighs.
Champ's hands were working frantically, teasing and titillating and Karen was twisting and wriggling under his expert caresses. Carlo could hear her moan almost inaudibly, as every nerve ending seemed to twitch with desire. She had slipped to the floor now and Champ was beside her, his prick an uncomfortable bulge between his legs, aching for its freedom. His eyes were riveted on the beautiful flesh of his stepmother as she lay impassioned by his caresses. His fingers dipped lower, tangling in the chestnut hairs, and searching in the damp crannies of her pussy. She sighed as she felt his probing digits taunt her there, securing the hidden folds, prodding with electrical intensity at the hard little button of her clitoris. Then his roving finger found the mucose entrance to her body, and he rammed it in, bringing a cry of surprise from Karen's lips from the sudden harshness of his entry. He rotated his finger around inside her, preparing her, loosening the lubricants which were already beginning to flow copiously. She was writhing without control now, a burning mass of desire, her face contorted with lust, crimsoned and passionate, her tongue flicking out wildly, her eyes glazed. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, and watched the grasping eager lips of her cunt as they clung angrily to it, loathe to let it go. Karen moaned as she felt the emptiness of his withdrawing finger. She needed to be filled, needed something inside her to fill the empty void. She moaned again, wishing that Champ would hurry and enter her, fill her before she went crazy!
Champ looked down at her in satisfaction. His own prick was burning throbbing with the mounting pressure from his balls. He wanted to take her now, plunge into her and shoot his wad far up inside her, but he held himself back. Slowly, he eased off his pants, and then dropped down on hands and knees before her quivering thighs. The pink moist flesh of her vagina was presented willingly to him, already twitching in anticipation.
"I'm going to lick your pussy now, Karen." He whispered. "Do you want me to lick it?"
Karen recoiled. She had not permitted him to kiss her there since that first night when she'd been drugged with sleeping pills. Even then, it hadn't been so bad, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the idea it was wrong. Yet the burning desire in her pussy had reached fever pitch, and somehow, Champ's vile words made her quiver with wanton desire.
She was insanely aroused and her fire had to be quenched.
"Yes," she whispered, "yes, I do .....
"Then tell me." Champ growled in a harsh voice. Karen hesitated. Even in her newly liberated state, she was reticent about the use of words, labelled "dirty" and "wrong" since childhood. She didn't think she could bring herself to use them.
"Tell me what you want me to do!" Champ demanded again.
Karen knew she had no choice. Champ, like his father, was not to be opposed and besides, the demanding fire in her loins demanded fuel.
"I want you to ... to lick ... me!" she said in a small trembling voice.
"Where, Karen, where?" Champ snapped.
"My ... pussy!" Once the words were out, they didn't seem quite so bad. "I want you to ... lick ... my pussy!"
His victory c o m p l e t e, Champ placed his palms against the fleshy insides of her thighs, his thumbs drawing away the swollen hairlined outer lips, exposing the delicate pink slit to his avaricious gaze. His tongue slowly circled his lips in anticipation and then he dropped his head, swiping his long tongue along the full length of her moist glistening furrow.
She moaned from the searing touch of flesh on flesh and jerked her buttocks into the ground as he continued his attack, burying his tongue deeper and deeper in the moist walls of her pussy, his organ spearing in and out of the flaring lips of her cunt. His wet sucking noises reverberated throughout the room as he continued to lash at her defenseless vagina with his powerful tongue. As she grew accustomed to his slavering strokes, little wisps of pleasure began to ripple and then grow, deep inside her.
"Hhhmmmmmmmm ..." she s i g h. a d, his tongue stabbing at the trembling flesh of her vaginal orifice and the hungry lips of her pussy began grabbing at his tongue, pulling it further into her deep cavern. The wisps were now volu minous cascades coursing through every inch of her body and she felt herself being buffeted by the strength of their torrents. She tangled her hands in Champ's blond hair, forcing him further down on her pussy, mashing his face into her, urging him onto greater activity. Her whole body was flailing wildly now and she was oblivious to Carlo's staring eyes, gaping in wonder, oblivious to everything but the driving need for her to reach the top of the waterfall of her desire and go crashing down released from its furious current.
Then her teenage lover stopped. A moan of disappointment erupted from Karen's lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a drum and waves of anger washed over her from the frustration of her thwarted orgasm. Champ stood over her, his thick prick spectacularly erect, jutting out like a mast on a ship and he was looking down at her, delighted at the urgency of her need and his control over it now.
"I'm going to fuck you now, baby! Tell me how much you'd like that!"
Karen sighed. She was growing tired of this game Champ was playing and could see no reason for it.
Irritated, she said:
"Oh Champ, stop playing games. Let's..." Her sentence went unfinished, cut off by the stinging slap of Champ's hand across her cheek. Her head reeled and she was dazed by the blinding pain. But then Champ's voice, cruel and biting, cut in:
"Now tell me ... ."
Karen was afraid now. There was no telling what he'd do, especially as Carlo was there, taking everything in. The best thing to do, she thought bitterly, was comply with his savage mood.
"I want you ... to ... fuck me..." she said, her voice a whisper.
"How, baby, how?" Champ leered, obviously excited by the lewd words coming out of her mouth.
"Deep, and hard, Champ, deep and hard." Her voice droned out the words like an automaton, but Champ didn't seem to notice. Apparently, he was satisfied and he bent over her again, enclosing first one and then the other tender nipple in his mouth, nipping each one viciously until they were indented with little red toothmarks and Karen cried out in pain. lie began to slaver all over her, biting at her, raising welts on her flesh, anxious to prove his mastery over her again. R o u g h l y, he forced her legs apart, stretching them almost to breaking point.
"Now I'm gonna fuck you, like you've never been fucked before ..." he snarled, positioning his prick at the mouth of her slightly hair-lined cuntal opening. His lewd words were like an aphrodisiac. Gone was the smarting hurt of the slap he'd given her, gone was the humiliation of his forcing her to use those lewd words, nothing mattered but the penis that was going to be rammed deep inside her.
His huge cock, bigger and more distended than usual, prodded at the soft, pulsating pussy lips, nudging them apart and Karen hissed, her breath indrawn, as she felt the first pressure of his prick against her tight elastic-rimmed orifice. She gritted her teeth as the hard bulbous head slipped past the resisting opening, cruelly stretching the tender membrane.
"Oooohhh ... you're hurting me..." she cried out involuntarily. Her piteous cry seemed to invoke a sadistic streak in her child-lover, and a terrifying look, a mixture of pure animal lust and raw savagery clouded his face. Even Carlo felt a moment of trepidation as he saw Champ ram forward with all his strength, brutally sinking his cock to the hilt in his stepmother's vagina.
"AAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH..." she screamed, a blood-curdling shriek. "No! No! Please stop! Nooooooo ..." His penis was like a giant cobra inside her, expanding and filling her till she thought she would burst. It was completely sunk inside her creeping into every fold, every crevice of her passage. He held his penis there for a moment, leering down at her, enjoying every painful frown that crossed her face.
"How d'you like that, baby?" he tormented her.
"Huh?" was all that Karen could grunt.
"I said - How-do-you-like-that?" he spat, flexing his cock again inside her at every word. The pain from his every movement was intolerable and she was afraid of the consequences to herself if she angered him.
"I like it!" she finally managed to stammer.
"Then beg me to fuck you," was the cold command.
"No, no I won't! I can't! Not in front of Carlo!" she wailed and began to blubber, all her natural revulsion to such a degradation, surfacing. He answered with a harsh lunge, which split her legs further apart and seemed to tear her delicate inner flesh to ribbons.
"Owwwwwwww ..." she sobbed, tears running in streams down her face. She realized she was beaten. Beaten by the fierce power of his penis buried inside her, ready and able to attack her vulnerability. She felt a double anguish. She really felt for the first time the exquisite anguish of being a woman, subject from the beginning of time to man, and subjugated for eons to come by the very power that was now buried deep between her legs. And she also felt the sorrow of knowing that her young stepson con trolled her their relationship was a see-saw of power play, but he had won, and would always win, because he was a man.
"Fuck me..." she managed to cry through her sobs. "Oh damn you, fuck me ..." There was no doubt now in her mind as to his victory and all she wanted now was to have the pain, the harsh gripping pain inside her relieved. Triumphantly he sensed her submission and began a slow r o c k i n g motion between her thighs. Her cruelly-stretched passage began to ease a little around his throbbing cock and he could feel her relax, too as she realized that they had finally come to an "understanding" and that she had acceded to his superiority. That knowledge gave him new power and he began to fuck in and out of her with a new assurance. In spite of her pain, Karen once more found herself responding to his urgent thrusts. Her being was awakened again and she began to twitch and moan beneath him, tendrils of excruciating pleasure reaching into her depths and making her shiver with delight. She strained her loins up against him, her cunt flowering open of its own accord to envelop him completely in her. Her legs were wrapped around his buttocks now and she was digging her heels into his sides, while inside, the heated walls of her pussy were flexing madly around the sinewy length of his cock, trapping it.
Champ, now that his superiority was intact, enjoyed the complete arousal of her body and was anxious to bring it to a termination. He plowed into her, swiping with his prick in long clean strokes, their bodies plastered together in a smooth cantering gait.
Carlo watched with eyes agog the lustful scene on the living room floor. His own excitement had risen by the minute as he watched the madly fucking pair. He was particularly incited by the spectacle of the older Karen begging her young lover to fuck her, and in the excitement, he had released his prick, his pants dropping unheeded to the floor. Now he stood there, eyes fastened on the stepmother and stepson. As the tempo of their passion increased, his own prick, shorter than Champ's, but making up for its lack of length in girth, stood out like a tree trunk in front of him. Now, his eyes never wavering from his object, advanced towards the frantically fucking couple, staggering like a man in a dream. As he approached nearer the pair, his dazedness dropped from him like a garment and he dashed over, screaming: "Wait! Champ, wait!"
Karen, afloat in pre-orgasmic nirvana, heard his insistent cries and wondered vaguely what he meant. But she didn't really care - ,all that mattered to her was the persistent drubbing of her stepson's prick in her belly and the euphoria she was reaching for and was just about to get. She felt herself being turned over. Champ had slipped off her, his cock still halfway submerged in her pulsing vaginal sheath, and then was hoisting her up on top of him, so that she was straddling him and sliding up and down on his long lubricant-drenched shaft. Her breasts, stiff and pointed were squashed against his chest and his pubic bone was grinding painfully into her lower stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Carlo approaching from behind, his thick stubby penis held aloft in his hands. Then she felt hands on her buttocks and they were being kneaded, the fingers jabbing at the soft flesh, pushing her down further onto Champ. She felt her quivering ass cheeks being separated, the soft white moons being cruelly spread apart. She wanted to try and clench them together, but his fingers, strong and tenacious, grasped them in an iron grip.
Carlo's eyes danced at the sight of the dark little mouth of her rectum, bared to his salacious stare. He could see it, crinkly brown, like a little reddish ring laid down on white satin and in child-like eagerness, he probed at it with his finger, teasing at the puckered skin. Karen froze under the irritating tickle of his fingertip on her tender skin, and frightened thoughts raced through her brain. What was he going to do to her? What did he have in mind? His fingers were racing like insects over the sensitive skin of her buttocks making her struggle to avoid the irritating ministrations.
Carlo's lust, fed like a lewd monster by the sight of his best friend fucking wildly into his own stepmother, reached epic proportions as he stared salaciously at Karen's quivering backside and he uncontrollably wormed his finger forward, pushing it past the tight little sphincter to the first knuckle.
"Aaaaaggghhhhh ..." Karen wailed, struggling violently her hips flailing to escape the unnatural invasion. Tears scalded her face and fell like raindrops onto Champ's heaving chest. But her wild struggling only seemed to defeat her purpose and Carlo cruelly sunk his finger forward once more, until it was imbedded almost to the hilt in her sorely tried anus. She tried to cry out again, but her screams caught in her throat, held there by the unnatural panic which was consuming her at the realization of what was happening to her.
Carlo massaged his hardened cock, encouraging it to even greater width, and then he withdrew his finger quickly with a strange popping sound, giving Karen a moment of relief as she felt her abused passage resume again its normal dimensions.
She cringed once more as she felt the hard, disproportionate head of Carlo's prick placed against the still-stretched anus, and tried to pull back from the painful pressure the instrument was exerting on the tender flesh.
Carlo grinned lewdly down at her, revelling in the thought of the pain he would cause her, anxious to humiliate her as his friend had done. He measured the enormous head against the tight little orifice, deriving a grim satisfaction from the obvious disparity in diameter between the two. Then, his lips pulled tight over his teeth in a vicious snarl, he drove the granitehard shaft straight at the trembling little ring of helplessly cringing anal flesh.
"Aaaagghhh ... no ... nooooooo!" Karen's blood-curdling scream rang through the room as she felt the tearing pressure of the rubbery head against her already slightly stretched anus. Carlo continued to press unmercifully against the tight resistant flesh, but he still was unable to penetrate her.
"C-Christ, Champ, he stuttered joyfully, unable to believe his luck, "I think it's a cherry!"
Champ, lost in his own lust, heard his friend's happy cry of discovery and smiled to himself at the thought of the further outrage about to be perpetrated on his luckless stepmother.
Karen's entire body shuddered convulsively. Full realization dawned on her of what the child-sadist had in mind, and with it, the equally terrifying thought that she was completely at their mercy. There was no way out for her, she had to submit to their vile desires. Yet every core of her being rebelled against this outrage and almost without thinking, she cried out:
".No! No! Please not that! Not back there!" Her piteous cries added impetus to Carlo's lust and marshalling his forces, charged forward again, this time succeeding in inserting the grotesquely distended head just inside the rubbery opening.
"ARRRRGHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh ..." A soulful high-pitched shriek like that of a rabbit caught in a trap resounded throughout the room. Karen's voice kept screaming while her body lay immobilized under the crushing pain, which enveloped her entire being.
She continued to moan, desperately trying to dislodge the huge cudgel which lay buried in her virginal rectum. Carlo, fully cognizant of the incredible pain he was inflicting on her, began to drive his sturdy prick forward. It refused to budge at first, but by dint of pure exertion, he managed to shove it forward, millimeter by torturously slow millimeter, finally imbedding it completely in her widely stretched rectal depths. Karen felt as if she were in the grip of some horrible sadistic giant named Pain, who squeezed and pinched her entire body, deriving pleasure from her mournful sobs which sounded brokenly in the air. The crucifying penis in her back passage seemed to tear right through her and join with her spine which had suddenly turned into a long, vertebral shaft of agony. She could feel, through the thin wall of flesh separating her vagina and rectum, the long smooth prick of her young child-lover in front brushing against the stubby penis of her equally young sodomizer in back. The intense pain coupled with the knowledge of the horrendous degradation they were subjecting her to increased her misery and fresh tears spurted down her face:
Carlo, totally enraptured by his success in deflowering her virginal anus, and anxious to prolong his feeling of l o r d s h i p, suddenly snarled:
"Beg me to do it too! Like you did Champ!"
Karen, mindless with pain, could only stammer,
"What ..."
"Beg me to fuck you, bitch," Carlo answered, savagely thrusting forward at the same time, sending fresh icy fingers of pain shooting into her already frozen body. This time, Karen, the memory of Champ's similar commands alive in her mind, responded in a pain-racked voice:
"Fuck me ... fuck me ... there!"
"Where, bitch, where?" Carlo demanded.
"In 'my rectum..." Karen mumbled, her face burning, her words only emphasizing the horror of what was happening.
"Say fuck me in the asshole!" Carlo spat, lunging forward again.
There was no answer!
"Say it! say it!" Carlo screamed, his extreme youth not diluting a whit the terrifying quality of his sadism.
After a long moment, Karen whimpered in a humiliated and beaten voice.
"Fuck - me - in - the ... asshole!"
As she muttered the debasing words, Carlo began to thrust into her; forcing his cock painfully in and out, starting a lumbering rhythm of sliding in and out of the widely stretching flesh.
Karen lay numbly sandwiched between her two young lovers, self-loathing enveloping her. Knowledge of her own submission, in the face of pain, to their obscene, depraved demands robbed her of her self-respect and she lay there, a thing to be buffeted about at the scurrilous demands of the two young Lotharios.
The pain began to ease and the fucking in back began to take on the rhythm of the screwing in front and they were plowing into her in unison, plunging their pricks far up into her.
On acceptance of her position, and all it implied, Karen's body began to relax and her initial objection and revulsion to the dual fucking began to fade away. She was aware of little eddies of pleasure rising and rippling along inside her and now she felt no compulsion to resist those first flickerings of delight. She was utterly debased, a thing to be soiled and used at her two young lovers' whims. The eddies turned into roaring rivers, her body was caught in their mainstream and she began to thrust her ass back, impaling herself willingly on Carlo's young stubby prick and then smashing down on Champ's lengthy rod. She actually began to enjoy it - this merciless fucking back and forth by her two teen-aged lovers. She felt a masochistic joy in the thought of how they had irrevocably subjugated her, and her pleasure intensified for knowing that she was completely in their power.
"Uhnnnggghhh ..." she moaned, "fuck me, fuck me harder, hurt meeee ... ."
The two young boys responded with sadistic fervor to her lewd pleas, and pounded furiously into her craved orifices. She was abandoned now - completely lost in the wild bittersweet race for release, the depravity of the dual fucking heightening her fervor.
Suddenly, she began to wail, her voice no l o n g e r pain-filled but now hedonistically hoarse.
"Ooooooohhhhh ... I'm ... going ... to ... I'm cuuummmiiinnggg!!" And she was there! Her body bobbing like a buoy at sea, as she tossed around in a total sexual frenzy, urging by her abandoned thrashing, the two young boys to release their fluid, like a Victory cup, into her assailed depths. With hoarse cries, they ejaculated, still in unison, their young, hot passionate sperm commingling in a lewd pool in her belly, and flowing out onto the floor, where the sticky white fluid joined with her own and seeped as one into the rug.
They slipped to the floor, all three of them and lay in a panting heap. Karen had never been more aroused in her life. She liked, actually liked the feeling of the two youngsters screwing into her together, front and back, and now even the memory of the pain had a special thrilling masochistic flavor to it. Her eyes lighted greedily on the deflating pricks of her two young lovers, and dazed with lust, she began calling them,
"Champ! Carlo!..." almost pleading with them to do it again, and of course the two young boys were only too glad to oblige.
Chapter 8
Karen applied the frosty polish to her long tapering nails, liking the silvery, shimmery effect. She was seated in front of the dressing table, dressed in a long, diaphaneous lounging pajamas, which flowed with her body as she walked. Her face had gone a little pale again, but this time the wanness was the result of lack of sun and fresh air. She hadn't felt the need to leave the apartment at all for two weeks now - Champ and his friends supplied her with everything she needed. Since that day, over two weeks ago, when Champ and Carlo had fucked her simultaneously, she was a different person. No longer having any need to hold back, her desires and passions were unleashed, and she was almost insatiable. Champ brought a constant stream of young friends, on whom Karen fell like a vulture, ready to devour them. Nothing was inviolate now - she was ready for anything with the young boys, who, of course, were also only too willing. She looked back now, almost with disbelief, on the days when she was shocked by Don's behavior, the photographs she'd found, Champs first assault on her drugged body. She was a different person now, there was no doubt about that. She wondered how she could have been so worried about the morality,of making love with her stepson - how could anything that was so wonderful, so right for her, be wrong? She was constantly encouraging Champ to bring more friends home, and he did his best. But she could sense that he was getting a little weary of her and her demands, and was therefore determined to make herself even more attractive than she was already, to rekindle his interest.
"Is that you, Champ?" she called, hearing the door open. "I'm in the bedroom!"
Champ came into the bedroom followed by Carlo and a well-built blond woman.
"Hello, darling!" Karen said, still intently applying varnish to her nails.
"Mom, here's someone I'd like you to meet!" Champ said, an excited tone in his voice.
Karen smiled at'his change in the last weeks to calling her "Mom" and expecting yet another young boy, but her smile faded when she spotted the woman with them. Her jealous instinct flared to the surface. No matter how many young boys she had, she didn't want them to have any other female.
"This is Bonnie Blaze," Champ went on, "a friend of ours from Virginia." Karen stared at the other woman with obvious distaste. She was curvaceous, her large breasts almost bursting out of the purple silk dress. She wore blue stockings and black high heels. Her hair, platinum blond, was a mass of curls around her face, and she wore long dangly earrings which reached her shoulders. Her green eyes were heavily outlined in black, and vivid scarlet l i p s t i c k stained her lips. She was staring insolently at Karen, one hand on her hip.
"We thought we'd bring you a friend, because you never go out anymore!" Champ said, staring at Karen.
"Well..." she began, obviously flustered. Her nail polish was dry now, and she was at a loss for what to do.
"Aren't you going to greet Bonnie as a friend, Mom?" Champ asked.
"Why..." again Karen's voice trailed off.
"Just give her a kiss, and then we'll have some drinks," Champ said, his voice lighter.
Karen obediently went over to the woman and planted a chaste kiss quickly on her cheek, and then disappeared into the kitchen.
When she returned with a bottle of scotch, glasses and soda, they were all sitting down, Carlo in the chair and Bonnie and Champ on the bed. Karen poured them all a drink, and then sat down beside Champ. She began sipping her drink but the others gulped down theirs almost immediately, and Carlo fixed them another. When they were halfway through their second scotch, and Karen still hadn't finished her first, Champ suddenly broke the silence.
"Mom, I don't think you greeted Bonnie properly!"
"What do you mean, Champ?" Karen asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"Give her a n o t h e r kiss, make 'er feel welcome..." Champ said, his voice slurred.
Karen knew he'd drunk his scotch too quickly and was now almost intoxicated. She didn't know what to do. Should she kiss that girl again, the thought of which nauseated her, or just ignore him, hoping his liquor-sodden mind would fasten onto something else? Worried, she drained her glass, and rose unsteadily, for she, too, was unused to liquor, to get another. "I said, kiss her again!" Champ said, loudly this time. "Just 'cause she's a hooker is no need to be in ... inhospitable!"
Karen gasped. A-a whore, right here in her own bedroom. And she'd actually kissed her!
"All right, boys," Karen said, "I think - erBonnie probably wants to go home now."
Before anyone could say a word, Champ jumped up and grabbed Karen by the wrist.
"You heard me," he snarled ... now kiss her ... kiss her good!" His grip tightened painfully on her wrist, making her flinch, but still she said: "Champ, are you out of your mind? Get that woman out of here!"
For the second time in her life, Champ slapped her, full force across the face, drawing blood from where her teeth ground into her inner jaw. Her head was reeling from the blow and her stunned senses warned her to obey her drunken stepson.
"O-O-Okay ..." she said, frightened now, and Champ released her, giving her a rough push towards Bonnie. The shove unbalanced her stillshaken body, and she fell directly on top of the girl, and the two of them fell back together on the bed.
"Look at that, Champ!" Carlo giggled. "They really like each other ..."
"Kiss her! Kiss her!" Champ began to shrill, and Karen, fearful of disobeying him, kissed the whore again on the cheek.
"Do it again!" Champ ordered, "and make it a proper kiss! and you kiss her too, Bonnie," he finished, gulping down the last of his second scotch.
Karen gingerly leaned forward, and closing her eyes, planted a kiss on the ruby lips of the other woman. Suddenly, she screamed. Champ had grabbed her brutally by the hair, and was pulling her head back painfully, so that she was looking up at him.
"Are-you-going-to-do-as-I-tell-you?" he spat, jerking her head back at each word.
Tears sprang to her eyes from the agonizing ache in her head and neck, and she blubbered: "Yes ... Champ ... yes ... anything you say!"
"W e l l, then, kiss her - and good!" he snapped. Mercifully, he released her hair, and anxious now to avoid further pain, she leaned forward, and tried to simulate a passionate kiss. To her surprise, Bonnie responded warmly, putting her arms around her, and trying to force her tongue between her teeth. Karen clenched her mouth shut, and suddenly felt a hand digging like a claw into her shoulder. Understanding this unspoken message from Champ, she reluctantly parted her lips, and Bonnie's tongue shot inside it. She screwed her eyes shut, totally repulsed. Obviously they're paying her for this, she thought bitterly, its also apparent it's not her first time.
"Now, undress each other!" Champ commanded, raising the whiskey bottle to his lips.
Karen froze at her words. What kind of cruel, vicious game was he playing? What did, he have in mind?
Again his slurring voice broke in on her thoughts: "Undress, I said, undress!"
Bonnie reached over and began pulling down the zipper in the front of Karen's hostess gown. Karen had to fight to stop herself from pulling away. But, remembering the mood that Champ was in and not wishing to feel his wrath, again she began unzipping the other girl. Then they Were both down to their bras and panties.
"Go on! Go on!" Carlo croaked, intensely excited by this little drama he and his friend were directing.
Thoroughly disgusted, Karen unhooked Bonnie's stockings, and then, unable to bear the thought of the other girl's hands on her, ripped off her own bra and panties, leaving Bonnie nonplussed and obliged to do the same.
Then they were both nude, lying on the bed, Karen pale, her breasts firmly pointed upwards, her pubic triangle a dark splash between her legs; Bonnie, her breasts large and ripe, pressing together like melons, her firm thighs culminating in a silver fleece. They lay there, Bonnie looking around her, Karen with eyes downcast, waiting for further orders.
"Well, do you like each other?" Champ asked, a cruel note sounding in his voice.
"Yes," Karen said tonelessly. What was the use of fighting it. Let him have his own way, she thought angrily, he'd have it anyway.
"She's all right!" Bonnie answered impudently.
"Now kiss each other's booby!" Champ said swaying from the unaccustomed scotch.
Karen gasped. She couldn't, she knew she just couldn't touch, that girl anymore. A hooker! She was revolting.
"Please Champ, don't make me do it!" she implored, hoping he'd take pity on her.
Without answering her, Champ began to draw his belt out of his pants and Karen watched him with unseeing eyes. Fear had paralyzed her, and it was only when she felt the first stinging blow of the heavy leather on her bare backside that she was able to cry out: "No, no! Please stop Champ! Don't hurt me..."
But the belt continued to lash down on her, raising red welts on her soft flesh, until she was mumbling helplessly: "Stop! Stop! I'll do anything you want! Anything!"
The blows stopped, and Karen, not needing a reminder, bent forward, and enclosed one of Bonnie's nipples in her mouth. Tentatively, she probed at it with her tongue, rolling the organ around the little tip, sucking it into hardness. She began to knead the other breast, all hesitancy forgotten, replaced by the memory of the harsh stinging smacks of leather, and she began to suck, almost eagerly, first one and then the other of Bonnie's large tits. Bonnie began to fondle her breasts, too, and strangely enough, it didn't feel too bad. But Karen just wanted it, whatever it was, to be over with.
"Now, give!" Champ said, the excitement rising in his voice. "Kiss each other's pussies!"
Karen gasped. He couldn't mean it. He couldn't. The thought of kissing Bonnie's vagina nearly made her gag. She c o u l d n 't, wouldn't, do it! She knew she was liberatedeven a libertine in some respects. She knew that her tastes,too, were different than most people's, running to young boys rather than grown men; but this, what Champ wanted her to do was sick, perverse! Remembrance of how she had shied away from anal intercourse came back to herbut this, this was far worse! No! No! her mind screamed.
Champ, noticing her hesitancy, reached for his belt again.
"That's right! Champ. Give it to her again!" Carlo urged, .anticipating further flagellation. But Karen saw the belt too. What could she do? If she refused to obey him, he'd beat her until what? God only knew how far he'd go in his present ugly mood. Better comply, distasteful, disgusting as it was. Better get it over with ...
Slowly, she reached down and saw the silvery glints of Bonnie's pubic hair shining up at her. She just couldn't, her mind rebelled at this final insult ... but she had to. It was either this or ... she shivered again at the alternative.
Slowly, she lowered her mouth and darting out her tongue, swiped at the moistening pussy beneath her. She reached out with her tongue again. Bonnie's cunt had a pleasing sweetness to it and Karen wasn't as revulsed as she thought she would be by the moist pink flesh gleaming between the hair-lined flanges. She began to probe in with her tongue, flicking it in and out, hesitantly at first, then more boldly as she became absorbed in her task.
Bonnie had felt an instinctive antagonism towards Karen on first meeting the woman who captured so much of the boy's time. She felt hatred towards her on noticing the disgust and disdain with which she, Karen treated her. But her hatred had melted into pity when she saw how cruel Champ was to her and her heart went out to her as she cowered under Champ's inhuman strapping. She knew it was the first time for Karen to be doing this, and imagined how hard it must be for her. Consequently, she was determined to do a good job and let Karen get some pleasure out of it.
Karen jerked back from the burning contact of Bonnie's tongue on her cunt. But the insistent tongue continued to lick at her pussy, dabbing at the warm pink flesh, sucking up the honeylike juices. After the initial shock, Karen didn't mind it so much. After all, there was the spectre of Champ standing there with his belt. Bonnie's tongue had an almost soothing effect on her, like a salve after the days and nights of roughness with Champ and Carlo and friends, and she began to like the mesmerizing tonguing the other girl was giving her, swiping in and out of her fleshy folds, washing the full length of her split, tickling the hard little button of her clitoris with her teeth. She moaned into Bonnie's pussy as she felt her tongue jab at the clasping viscid hole of her vagina, and then plunge in, lapping far up inside the tightly clinging sheath. She was definitely beginning to like it, and her hips were beginning a slow roll pulsing against Bonnie's darting tongue. The pleasure she was receiving below was reflected in her efforts above and she began to suck and lick between the prostitute's legs with renewed interest, swirling her tongue around in the hot clasping little hole of her cunt, nibbling with her teeth at the rising little button of her clitoris, trailing her tongue down to jab lewdly at the puckered ring of her anus nestling between the fleshy mounds of her buttocks.
Karen really dug it now - her loins were aflame, the tendrils of fire reaching out all over her body. She didn't know it was going to be like this. It was quite pleasant really, more gentle, almost more natural than with a grown man. As she writhed under the intense oral fucking she was giving to and receiving from another woman, Karen knew she had passed the point of no return. However uninhibited she had thought herself before, now, after participating in and enjoying this perverted sixty-nine, she knew she was forever free of the bondage of repression in which she had been steeped for so long. There was no turning back now!
"I e e e e e e e ... ." she moaned as Bonnie's tongue, stiffened like buckram, rammed again and again far up inside her, tickling her delicate inner walls, sending new shivers coursing along her spine. They were like a bow, the two of them, bent and taut, touching only at the two places where mouth joined cunt. Bonnie's fair hair flowing down on Karen's dark pussy and her auburn head grinding up against Bonnie's platinum fleece. Their bodies were moist with perspiration as they bucked about furiously on the rattling bed, striving to give and receive totally feminine mutual release.
Then Karen felt the volcano inside herself emptying, showing showers of sparks over her, making her leap from their burning bites, and then the molten lava washed over her, laving her body in a warm whiteness that reminded her of ass's milk. She was gurgling out her orgasm but it was lost in the depths of Bonnie's pussy, where her strangled cries seemed to ricochet off her steaming flanges to sound again in her own surprised ears, only it wasn't her own echoes, it was Bonnie, delirious squeals muffling into Karen's loins, as she twitched and spasmed as wave after wave of heated desire crashed over her, embroiling her in its surf, until, finally the two heated bodies were still, arms locked around each other, grateful for the given and received pleasure.
* * *
Later that night, Karen lay in bed. She was quite alone. Champ and Carlo and Bonnie were all gone - back to Virginia. The Easter vacation was over and Karen had wept when she realized that Carlo and Champ were going back to school and they, too seemed genuinely sorry to be leaving her, especially when it evolved that she was only too willing to participate in whatever other schemes they had in mind for her.
Karen herself had been a little surprised at her own easy acceptance of the pleasure she had given to aid received from another woman, and also at her willing and eager participation in what followed. She shivered a little now in remembrance of what had happened right after she and Bonnie lay back in delirious satiation. She had been lying on her side, gasping to control her frantic panting, a pleasant tingling still burning between her legs. Through her euphoric torpor, she was aware of movement around her and then something was prodding at her lips. Her eyes flew open and she was aware of a boyish penis, a bare inch from her lips. The head was enormously bulbous, a faint purple sheening in the light. She could see the long webbed surface of it with the soft, fuzz-covered sac crowned by amber-colored curls, dangling below it. She stared at it for a moment, knowing it was Champ who was kneeling before her. She fought desperately to control the rising tide of nausea in her, and to her own amazement, it quickly receded. And suddenly she wanted to suck this boy and give him pleasure, even though she had never done it before. She wanted to give more and more pleasure to the one who had introduced her to so much. Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into delicious contact with the rubbery head of Champ's prick and she tasted the piquant tang of the little speck of cum seeping out of the glans opening. Champ began to groan as her tongue revolved around the smooth stiff flesh, darting maddeningly again and again into the tiny opening, trying to prematurely suck out its exquisite young male juices. Automatically, Karen's hands reached up and she carefully cupped the squirming sac of his testicles in her palms, weighing them lovingly, grazing her fingertips over the wrinkled surface of his flaccid balls. Then she moved her busy fingers and stroked the thick base of his cock, rising like a pillar of flesh from the tufts of hair. Then she began to paint its entire surface with her warm wet saliva, tracing little patterns on the shiny surface with her swiping tongue. She swirled her tongue around and around it, not quite willing to enclose it yet in her mouth. But Champ was suffering exquisite agonies and could stand it no longer. He surged forward and his granite-hard prick slipped easily between Karen's surprised teeth and buried itself in her soft buttery mouth. She thought she would choke for a moment, so filled did she feel with the pliant spongy flesh pressing uncomfortably against her larynx, bringing tears to her eyes. After a moment had passed, she tightened her lips around the firm flesh and held it there, and began running her tongue along its enclosed surface, eliciting grunts of animal pleasure from Champ. She could feel excitement gnawing at her body from the novel sensation of this cock in her mouth and from the thought that he was using her mouth, fucking it this way for his own pleasure. She delighted in bathing with her oral juices this prick belonging to her so youthful teacher, the one who initiated her into the hedonistic life to which she was now irrevocably drawn. She began to suck at his organ with renewed vigor, slashing her tongue demoniacally around the throbbing flesh, her hand still milking spasmodically at his squirming balls.
Through the crescendo of her own rising passion, she felt her legs being spread apart. Hands were caressing her and then she felt again the sensation of a warm moist gust of breath of her cunt, blowing gently into her still-tingling orifice. Then a mouth was fastened on her pussy and she felt a body stretched alongside her legs. She realized it was Carlo just at the moment when his tongue plunged into the damp furrow of her cuntal slit and her muffled cry exploded around the organ which so completely filled her mouth.
Carlo had been incensed by the sight of the two women grovelling in each other's cunts and he wanted desperately to feel the bittersweet taste himself, to lash his young tongue furiously around in his friend's stepmother's hot, tight little pussy. He saw his chance when she was busily licking and sucking on her husband's son's virile young prick. Her legs were slightly parted, revealing the still-damp wisps of pubic hair coating the fleshy outer lips and the slight pinkness of her split was visible through the hair-lined folds. Now he slashed around in her warm depths, feeling the fiery heat of her inner cunt walls as they contracted on his plunging tongue, trying to pull it out by its roots and bury it in their mysterious depths. He could feel the vibrations from Karen's hungry sucking on Champ's prick right down in her cunt and he began to match her furious oral swipes with equal sweeps of his own, until her body reverberated from the uniform oral fucking. As Carlo's tongue grovelled deeper and deeper into Karen's steaming recesses, her dilating pussy-lips rimming his nose and mouth, he felt a rustling around him and then Bonnie, her nerves twitching raw ends of desire, was straddling him, his growing prick massaged between her palms. And then she was astride him and she was settling herself on his erect organ. Shivers coursed through him as he felt the soft outer flanges of her vagina nibbling at the knobby head of his cock and then she was descending on him, his steel-hard rod slipping easily between her still-lubricated interior walls. She slid down the hard flesh, reaching bottom with an oomph! and immediately began a rhythmic up and down motion on Carlo's prick, her eyes fastened lewdly on Champ's cock disappearing into and reappearing from Karen's widely ovalled mouth with quickening regularity.
Karen's body was aglow from the expert ministrations her stepson's young. friend was heaping on her inflamed pussy with his mouth. Her jaws ached from the exercise of clenching and unclenching on Champ's virile young organ and yet she couldn't stop; she had to feel, for the first time, his lewd sperm gushing in a cascade down her throat. She felt like a man in the desert - she'd die if she didn't drink that life-giving nectar. She heard the "oomph" sound behind her and then the sluicing sound as Bonnie rode up and down like a yo-yo on Carlo's prick. She longed to turn around and see for herself, but she knew all at once what was happening. They were all engaged in a lewd four-way fuck! She was sucking Champ's cock, while being licked by Carlo, who was being fucked by Bonnie! The lascivious thought seemed to spur her on and add to her intensity as she furiously mouthed Champ's flesh buried deep in her mouth. Torrents of pleasure were flowing through her own body, washing her p a s s i o n a t e l y, and then Champ came, uttering animalistic screams and grabbing Karen's head roughly in both hands, forced her head even further down on his prick until her lips were tickled by the tufts of his pubic hair and her throat gulped down the floods of hot sticky fluid which he was raining into her mouth, filling her even more than his cock had done and little rivulets of it dribbled down the corners of her mouth like white drooping whiskers. At the same time, her own body was seized by a giant spasm which made her tremble from head to toe and she cried out her orgasm around Champ's still spewing cock.
Carlo and Bonnie came together, his mouth still glued on Karen's pussy, his face drenched by her orgasmic flow, as he shot his lewd load far up into Bonnie's wildly squirming depths. Finally, they collapsed in a tangled mass of thighs, breasts, cocks and cunts, each quivering body satiated beyond its wildest dreams.
A faint smile curved Karen's lips now as she drifted towards sleep, feeling the joy of knowing her body was completely unchained, ready to soar to whatever dizzy heights of pleasure the future held.
Chapter 9
My Darling Karen,
As I will be coming home in a few weeks, I am tormented with remorse at the thought of the suffering I have caused you and wish to make a clean breast of it all, hoping you will still love and understand me.
First of all, darling, I am wounded. Not seriously - some shrapnel in the shoulder, but I am being discharged, permanently and I will be back with you soon.
I want to tell you now that I re-enlisted in the Army to get away from you. The mess our marriage was in, which was mostly my fault, drove me insane, and all of a sudden, I wanted to be a bachelor again.
But now, I realize my mistake and hope it's not too late to come home and try again.
I'll be gentle with you in future, darling, and teach you to love me, and we'll build up a good and happy life for each other. I can hardly wait to see you again, and I miss you very much.
With all my love,
DON
Karen stared into space, thinking of the letter she'd just read. A faint smile curved her lips as she looked around at the apartment, completely denuded of furniture. Her two suitcases were standing by the door ready for the cab which was to take her to the airport.
Slowly, she struck a match and held it to the corner of Don's letter. It flared quickly, and she dropped the burning paper into the remaining ashtray which was on the mantelpiece. Then she lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. She was startled by the honking below which she knew was the cab, and without a backward glance, she picked up her suitcases and walked down the single flight of stairs to the floor level.
The cabdriver helped her with her suitcases and she settled back in the cab. She looked different - her hair was now pulled back severely from her face, and around her eyes, now shaded by large sunglasses, there were tiny crowsfeet beginning to form. She wore an austere navy suit which gave her a somewhat shapeless look, and she looked the prototype of the young matron.
Carelessly, she blew smoke rings, remembering, finally believing the letter which she had received just yesterday. She read it so often, she knew exactly what it said.
Dear Mrs. Cook,
We are pleased to inform you that we have decided in
favor of your application as a student counsellor here at the Britton Academy for Boys.
As you know, our boys range in age from thirteen to seventeen and the education they receive here stresses the development of emotional maturity and independence. We feel sure you will find that the boys have benefited from their treatment as young adults.
We do appreciate the fact that you would be willing to start in mid-term, and ask that you join us at the earliest possible moment, as we have an immediate vacancy.
We trust that your association with Britton Academy will be mutually enjoyable and beneficial.
It was signed by the head of the academy and Karen couldn't believe it when she was accepted. She had applied to three different places, but somehow preferred Britton even though it meant moving all the way to Seattle.
Britton Academy! She could just imagine it. Red brick walls, well-kept grounds, beautiful trees - and students. Three hundred young boys, eager to confide in her, willing to get on the right side of their new counsellor. The idea of Champ and Carlo far away in Virginia meant nothing to her now. She knew she'd find their counterparts, and better, at Britton.
Yes, she thought to herself as the cab sped along the Baltimore-Washington expressway to the airport, she was sure her association with Britton Academy would be most enjoyable and beneficial to her newfound freedom of thought ...
