Indifference is probably the most damaging emotion, or lack of emotion, anyone can allow to exist. Who was it who said, "Love me or hate me, but for God's sake don't ignore me!" And the most destructive of all types of indifference is parental indifference. That this can have a profound effect for the worse on an individual is just now being realized by psychologists who are probing our nation's steadily increasing crime rate. So many of the kids who turn to lives of crime have an inadequate home life; one parent, usually the father, is often missing, while the remaining parent may actually be unconcerned by the child's problems or, just as important, may seem indifferent because of the need to be absent from the home for work or other reasons. Whatever the reasons, an ignored child becomes mischievous, doing more and more outrageous things in an attempt to gain attention from the parents he thinks have scorned him.
In Daddy's Little Girls we have just such a child in Ellen Johnston. And with the typical fascination of the adolescent girl-child for the man of the house, Ellen concentrates all her whiles on her father. That she is more intelligent and precocious than most children only serves to make her games more intricate and to widen the circle of her conquests from her own boyfriend to her father, then to her older sister and her sister's boyfriend.
Why does she succeed, we may wonder. Only because the entire family atmosphere is one of indifference with the fears and self-doubts that that brings. Roger Johnston is a man rapidly approaching middle age, faced with a job that runs itself, a wife who has grown away from him and daughters who no longer need their mother, much less him. His wife Cynthia, bored with their marriage and feeling rejected by their daughters, has deliberately pulled herself out of the family life to create her own world. The girls, too, have withdrawn, thus completing the vicious circle -- and who can say whether it is because they sense their parents' boredom or merely because like all teenagers they are beginning to cut the strings that bind them.
This is a universal problem, and though we cannot recommend incest as a universal solution, we do present this book to show how one family made a spectacular come back.
The Publishers
Chapter 1
She was, after all, only a child.
As she walked down the arrow-straight road from the school bus towards home, her head barely cleared the taller hedges and her blonde hair tossed at her shoulders, one of which was slightly raised from the effort of carrying her schoolbooks. She had a light, inoffensive manner of staring through every gate and through every window which looked inviting as she stepped along. The quickness of her glance seemed right for her pert walk, her smallish, lean frame, her age -- but this quick gaze was dictated also by the quickness of her mind and temperament.
Thirteen-year-old Ellen Johnston was precocious, an inventive young genius, a little dynamo. Her long blonde hair twirled as she spun her head for a quick look at anything interesting -- but what interested her most in this old, familiar Cape Cod neighborhood was not the respectably stuffy people or the fifty thousand dollar houses so much as the newness of her own experience. Ellen was fast becoming a woman, and she was very much aware of the fact, and aware too of the subtle changes that were going on inside her slowly maturing body. When asked her age, she said she was "going on fourteen," and it was true. Ellen would be fourteen in only eight more months.
Not too far behind Ellen, Roger Johnston swung his big Rolls Royce around the corner by the school bus stop. The car was a rich lustrous black, only a few months old, but already covered with dust. Inside a crisp unseen voice droned out the day's predictable news of scattered wars and disasters which Roger gave only half an ear to. The interior of the car reeked of new leather, although it had already acquired an unkempt look from a back seat covered with papers, a kleenex box broken and spewing its contents over the rear shelf, and sand, dried mud, and a forgotten soft drink bottle on the floor.
Roger valued the quality and prestige of an auto only when he bought it, seldom giving it a thought thereafter, since to him a Rolls, no matter how new, was nothing new. It was checked only when his garage phoned him to remind him to bring it in. As forgetful and distracted as he was these days, he should have had both a chauffeur and a mechanic -- and before long, he probably would.
While he was so preoccupied by his troubles to give only half an ear to the news, and not to notice at all the early degeneration of his car, his eye spotted rapidly the beautiful young blonde girl on the road ahead of him. She had on a very short skirt which bounced along with her walk, revealing every few steps the beginning of the curved, full rise of her smoothly rounded buttocks clad in what seemed to be pink bikini panties. He looked more closely at the spot where the short skirt sometimes bounced up as he guided the car along behind her absent-mindedly by instinct. Yes, they were pink, this little blonde bombshell had on pink lace bikini panties! He could even see the tight, firm cheeks of her almost naked buttocks rise and fall beneath the skimpy pink cloth, jiggling saucily and invitingly, until he got too close and could no longer get the right angle. If only he could slow down without being obvious! Now he raised his eyes to the narrow girlish waist and the delicate curve of her back rising to slender sloping shoulders under a faded, clinging sweatshirt.
Johnston came up directly beside the girl and saw now that the jutting breasts beneath that sweatshirt were bouncing provocatively together with her walk but not as much as he had expected. They seemed taut, firm and youthfully full. Yes, but not as much as the tightly revealing clothes, the full hips and buttocks, the long inviting bare legs, and the long swirling blonde hair would suggest. The girl must be very young and, as a matter of fact, those must be school books under her arm. But damn was she appealing! Her stiffened nipples thrust enticingly far out against the worn material of her clinging sweatshirt. Jesus! That he could see! If only he could slow down, or if only he were on foot and could follow her; but no, now he was fully past and he raised his eyes directly to her face and found himself looking squarely at ... could it be? ... his own daughter.
His own daughter! Holy Jesus Christ! And he had been looking her up and down like some cheap whore! Fortunately she had not noticed him, looking instead into the yards of the houses she was passing, and he shifted his gaze and continued driving, badly shaken emotionally. This girl whom he had examined as best he could from ankle to breast, on whom he had allowed his frustrated, sex-starved desires to speculate wantonly -- this girl was his daughter Ellen, his own child. Christ almighty! But she had not seen him and he continued driving. Perhaps he should stop -- or should have stopped, to give her a ride the rest of the way home; but now, thank God, it was too late.
Roger Johnston guided the dusty Rolls Royce down the long straight road and into an opening in the hedges which led to his garage. There he parked the car, gathered up some of the papers from the back seat, knocking others onto the floor, and rushed into the house with them. The house was cool, quiet, and deserted, and he was glad for that since his present guilt demanded peace and solitude. He called out his wife's name perfunctorily, but he knew she would be out on one errand or other. There was no answer.
He went up the winding staircase and directly entered his study where, tired, without giving a thought to changing his clothes, his hands trembling as they clutched the papers, he sat down at his desk. Peace was what he needed, and he would just sit now and think the whole matter through. He laid the papers down and began to sort through them, spreading them out before him. Oh yes, there was the property transfer for the new fish catcheries, and the rough draft of the prospectus for the Hyannis hotel which he had to look over -- these things were fairly reassuring.
Yet he could not concentrate and his mind drifted until he opened the cabinet at his side and poured a Scotch, downed it, and poured another. This should have calmed him, but instead it merely removed the last inhibitions in his mind standing between him and direct contemplation of his young daughter Ellen's lust-inciting body. His thoughts returned to the road and the full profile of her full firm breasts, the swell of her rounded young buttocks rising and falling invitingly beneath the pink bikini panties as she walked, the gentle untouched virginal look of her curvaceous body together with her light skin, her bare arms and legs, her long blonde hair ... He polished off a third -- and then a fourth -- Scotch, and then the world began to soften around him.
Roger suddenly leaped up, raced out of his study and ran shakily, all the way down the stairs to the basement. There he found a large nail and hammer and carried them back up to the study, where he stood heart thudding, hands trembling, facing the wall separating his study from Ellen's bedroom. Despite the influence of the alcohol, which had now turned him into a different person, his mind still hesitated. Yet his hands did not; he held the nail at eye level and pounded through the wall. He removed it, blew out the plaster and wood, and yes, there was a direct view into his daughter's bedroom. And she would not see the hole since her walls were finished in a rough knotty pine.
He returned to his desk and pretended to look at the hotel prospectus, but he knew he was pretending, really waiting to peek through the hole.
There was a noise downstairs.
As Ellen entered, she too thought the house was empty. Looking through the pile of mail and finding none for her, she dropped her books on a chair and began slowly climbing the circular staircase. Like her father, the young teenager had put in a long day and was tired. She entered her bedroom next to her father's study, closed the door, sighed, and immediately started to undress.
Roger stood with his eye pressed hungrily to the hole he'd just drilled as his curvaceous teenage daughter pulled her sweatshirt quickly up over her head, unzipped and dropped the short skirt, and turned unknowingly to face him as she removed her brassiere. Her full, uplifted breasts swayed lushly into naked freedom right before his eyes. Against the milk-white skin of the proud young breasts her small erect nipples stood out as inviting pink buds, as cherries only waiting for someone to pick. Roger's eyes scarcely had accommodated themselves to his daughter's quivering white breasts when she slowly peeled down the sheer pink panties and tossed them onto the floor, revealing a tiny blonde triangle of sparsely curling pubic hair, at the bottom of which he could see the start of the gentle fleshy folds of her pussy. This was his daughter -- God almighty! What a body! What a tantalizing and unbelievable body! Young and virginal, but physically a full woman, perfect in her lush nakedness.
Ellen was not posing, did not suspect that she was observed, and as soon as the pink lace panties dropped to the floor she bent immediately to pick them up, turning her back to the wall, the round trembling cheeks of her buttocks spreading enticingly as she stooped, revealing the other end of her thin pink vaginal slit through the curly blonde pubic hair from the rear, and farther up the shadowy cleavage between the upturned half-moons of her buttocks, Roger stared heatedly at the tiny secretive ring of her anus.
She sprang back to her feet and moved around the room putting her clothes away. Her ripely jiggling young breasts popped in and out of view as she walked about the room, and her firm but fluid buttocks rose and fell, rose and fell, as they had on the street except now it was so much more lust-inciting to see them naked. Roger was sure she was unconscious of his gaze, yet even so she seemed to like being naked, or at least not to consider it unusual as she put her clothes away, straightened up the cosmetics on her dresser, moved to a window to glance through a crack in the drapes out at the sky and the ocean.
All the while Roger kept his eyes glued to his daughter's body. And what a body! He had never suspected it was this good -- before today he'd never given it a thought. Occasionally the alcohol he'd drunk dimmed his focus, but generally his view of his young daughter's curvaceous body was extremely clear, as the large straining bulge in Roger's pants obscenely announced. He looked at the tender, still unwrinkled body as it nakedly circled the room, still tanned from last summer except for the two narrow strips of white from where the skimpy bikini bathing suit had been. He watched the round, pliable cheeks of her smooth young buttocks knead against each other, swaying side-to-side at the bottom as well as up and down while she walked; he drank in the upturned spheres of her ripely budding breasts set close together with the taut pink nipples rising into tantalizing little buds; he studied voraciously the lips of her virginal cunt which undulated beneath the sparse blonde triangle as she walked.
With Roger's eye at the nail hole so full it was popping from his head, Ellen suddenly pulled a pair of white nylon panties from the closet and tugged them on, for a moment giving an unwittingly good view of her entire young pussy. Then she took a sheer white brassiere, worked the soft flesh of her breasts into the lacy cups, and forced the back shut. As she topped this off with a short, loose-fitting house dress, her smooth cream-white body already began to fade into Roger's memory.
But what did not fade in Roger's mind was the guilt.
He returned to his desk and passed what he had done over and over in his mind, unable to think of any excuse or justification for his behavior. She was, after all, his daughter! His own daughter, only a child! Yet that body ...
One excuse in time did occur to him and now sat almost empty at his side -- his ender of troubles these last weeks -- the bottle of Scotch.
Roger heard Ellen close the door to her bedroom just as he was fighting an impulse to check the hole again to see if she was still fully dressed. Roger groaned, and forcibly steadying his hands, poured himself another large, stiff drink, downing it with a shudder.
Chapter 2
Cape Cod was nice in the spring, but as he walked, Roger Johnston was only partially aware of the green trees on his street, the sounds of the many birds, and the seagull coasting overhead. The spring was well along now, and throughout it Roger had been -- to his credit -- more aware of the spring than of the fact that he owned a Rolls Royce, yet this awareness was crushed by his brief look at his young adolescent daughter Ellen's body. He had not looked through the hole in the wall again -- though he had not patched it up, either.
Still a block distance from the neighborhood grocery, Roger was intrigued to see Ellen emerge onto the porch of the Green house along with her boy friend, Mark Green. They were holding hands as they walked down the steps, then Mark seemed to look around them to see if they were observed, not noticing Roger in the distance, and they went toward the Green garage. The garage door opened, in went Ellen and young Mark, and the door silently closed.
Mark was only fourteen, a tall thin boy, slightly awkward and shy, and Ellen was only thirteen. Yet Roger had just seen them with his own eyes go into the garage and he was genuinely shocked because Ellen was not even allowed to date. She called Mark her boy friend, but that only meant they went to one another's houses and to the beach, under parental supervision. Parental supervision! There seemed to be little of that at the Green house! But that's just what he himself would supply, and he would supply it right now. First, however he had to make sure his suspicions were correct.
Roger scanned the quiet, empty street to see if he was being observed, then walked to the side of the garage until he was totally hidden by a row of bushes and the garage wall. There was a small window, and he cautiously raised his eyes to it until he could see inside to where Ellen and Mark, in profile, were sitting next to each other on a pile of boards about four feet away from the window. Mark was saying something to Ellen and she was only smiling in return, although her long blonde hair tumbled onto his shoulder. Perhaps this was not so bad after all; it seemed innocent enough.
Roger was preparing to leave when he saw Mark suddenly push his hand up and clumsily grope at one of Ellen's ripening young breasts.
He saw it! His daughter being pawed! And by that conniving young snipe, Mark Green, who had eaten with them many times, who he'd driven to the beach, who he'd sat up evenings playing checkers with -- who in short, he'd trusted. Roger would walk in right now and paste Mark in the nose -- but no, Mark was too young. Better to simply break the two of them up, and then to later vent his rage verbally on Mark's father, Jason Green, the car salesman, who Roger couldn't stand anyway. He was about to take this course, when taking a last glance in the window, he noticed his daughter's reaction and it held him spellbound.
Her lips were parted in passion, and she was gyrating her softly mounded breasts beneath the young boy's exploring hands.
Then she reached up and, without further ado, began to unbutton her blouse as Mark watched with greedy, bulging eyes the wide cleavage of her young budding breasts come into tantalizing view. Then Ellen shrugged her blouse to the ground and it was clear that she -- innocent Ellen! -- had worn no brassiere. Had she planned for this outing? Her softly swelling young breasts stared out into the garage in quivering, self-conscious nakedness.
Roger was shocked beyond words, yet his attention was fully captivated by the salacious sight of his daughter's taut little breasts, one of them being gently cupped and massaged by Mark as he fastened his eyes on the other one and Ellen threw back her head. Her nipples were cherry pink, small and nicely shaped, and protruding straight out. She took Mark's free hand and forced it onto the other naked breast and now Mark was kneading the pliant dough of both shamelessly naked mounds, forcing them together, then flattening them, squashing them, squeezing them, and churning the sensitive nipple-buds into pebble-hard passion. Ellen dug her fingers into her boy friend's hair, and forced his head down until his mouth found one excitedly throbbing little nipple.
Ellen had done that -- Roger vaguely noted in his mind -- not Mark, but Ellen; and -- holy Jesus -- Roger could not believe what his thirteen-year-old daughter was doing now. She was dropping her hand slowly downward on Mark's trembling young body, rubbing and pressing against his chest, playing with her fingers between the buttons in his shirt, then running her hand down farther and with no formalities unzipping his fly in a single lewd motion, sticking her hand in, and greedily pulling out his youthful penis. In her hand the young boy's teenage cock was still half-soft, but, as she looked at it with obscene fascination and experimented, running her fingers over the smooth rubbery head, then clamping her hand around and beginning to softly massage it up and down -- it grew ever large and harder. She was staring at it, as wide-eyed as Mark -- who had one softly fleshed breast covered with red marks from his pawing fingers and the other totally wet from his mouth -- was staring at her passionately heaving breasts. What her father didn't know was that she was staring so wantonly because she had never seen or touched one before and it fascinated her, this peculiar hard, rubbery device that she now controlled in her massaging hands but which she well knew was capable of penetrating, of subduing her virginal body.
And outside the garage, Ellen's spying father watched the whole lewd spectacle from the window, beyond all thoughts of breaking it up, now, for his own guilt came into play -- he was complicit in what was going on here, he was watching and moreover he was enjoying watching. Yet his parental feelings were nevertheless bruised when he saw Mark -- on his own and no longer needing prodding from his girl friend -- began to run his hand searchingly downward over Ellen's innocent body. His groping hand reached her bared knee, and Ellen froze momentarily at the unexpected contact crawling insect-like over her naked sensitive flesh.
The aroused teenager, unsure, rubbed her knee for a full minute as though that were his only interest, then his massaging fingers slowly crept an inch higher. He continued rubbing, stroking, raising his hand almost unnoticeably farther up her tapered young leg until he was sneakily pushing the hem of her short dress. Soon enough his relentlessly moving hand was halfway up to the crotch band of her sheer panties and then it was all the way up and, trembling, reaching for the soft smooth mound enclosed so temptingly beneath the white nylon panties up between her legs. His fingers made tentative contact and Ellen jerked, but simultaneously she spread her shapely legs a tiny bit to give him better access. Mark understood and began to run his fingers hungrily over her warmly moistened pussy-slit, pushing, and discovering. Soon he was pressing gently up into her widespread little cunt, but still separated from her naked pussy by the thin white panties.
The excited young blonde squirmed away a little as her friend's middle finger began a gentle stroking motion, pushing the folds of her skimpy nylon panties into her suddenly throbbing vaginal crevice. She sat on the pile of boards with the boy's erect, blue-veined cock clasped in one hand, and her enticingly curved legs now widening more, relaxing somewhat to admit Mark's more-persistently probing hand.
With a lustful lurch, the hand probed suddenly beneath the tight elastic leg band of the panties, and Roger shuddered watching the outlines of the boy's searching fingers make contact with his young daughter's unviolated pussy up beneath the sheer white material. The fingers began to stroke, finding a slow teasing rhythm, pressing lewdly into her thin spread cuntal slit now, as Ellen herself -- head thrown back in lewd abandon and unaware of anyone -- began, to Roger's shock, to grind her hips experimentally, and her head began to toss.
Ellen had done this herself sometimes, but to have someone else fingering her excited pussy was a new experience, and her young round buttocks lifted up off the pile of boards, grinding back and forth to the obscene tempo of the fingers probing tantalizingly up into her pulsating opening.
Suddenly Mark pulled his hand away from her impassioned cunt and peeled down her flimsy panties as far as her knees, then returned his hand to stroking her hair-fringed furrow also running some extra explorations over her now nakedly accessible white buttocks. Ellen wiggled her long, dangling legs from the wood pile to shake the panties off the rest of the way, finally succeeding in kicking them forcefully to the ground. Her lewdly exposed pussy was in full view to her father now from the nearby window as the teenager stroked his extended middle finger up and down her parting blonde-fringed slit which was wet from the secretions seeping excitedly from Ellen's pouting pink cuntal lips. The finger slid up as far as the tiny pink bud of her erect little clitoris, and probed desirously down as far as the very opening to her virginal cunt.
Roger's precocious daughter now totally relaxed her full inner thighs to give the young boy greater access to her slippery cunt, and at the same time increased the lewd tempo which she so enthusiastically stroked and jerked his swelling cock in wide-eyed fascination. With each obscene stroke the youth's stimulated penis expanded into greater lust-inflamed hardness, just as Ellen gyrated her hips more, her naked white buttocks lifting well into the air now in wanton invitation as she helped Mark skewer his extended middle finger into her tightly resisting hymen, entering slightly into her narrow unstretched vagina. She seemed to like it even though it hurt, and she twisted her blonde-fringed cunt wantonly around his inserted finger. She stared shamelessly at the ever-enlarging cock against which her hand looked like a doll's. And then -- her own excitement seeming to egg her on -- she bent her head, her long blonde hair tumbling around the boyish cock, to get a closer look, her pussy still thrashing wildly all the while into Mark's cupping hand, which had the finger now permanently sunk up into her virginal vagina to the second knuckle, with tiny droplets of blood and her own eager cuntal secretions running down onto the skewering fingers.
If the whole scene had shocked Roger from the very start -- from seeing Ellen traipsing off with a teenager into the garage, to seeing Mark rub her soft round breast and Ellen respond by excitedly removing her blouse, to seeing that she intentionally had worn no brassiere beneath, to watching her blatantly force Mark's head down to suck her stiffened little nipples then probe into the boy's pants to fondle his throbbing cock; and above all her own passionate reaction to Mark's lewd probing of her chaste young pussy -- if this shocked him, it was nothing compared to what came next! Roger's own sex life had been practically nil for sometime. Occasionally he and his wife did make love, but it was perfunctory and an unimpassioned performance which left them both nearly as frustrated as when they began. There was absolutely no erotic variation in Roger's sex life with his wife, and there never had been, not even in their college days when they had first gotten to know one another. In the beginning he had tried to push his wife's head down over his erectly waving penis but she had never taken the hint, or if she had, she'd promptly ignored it and escaped his grip. She was seldom ever willing to lay her hands on his lust-swollen cock, let alone her mouth.
And that is now what Roger saw directly in front of him just a few feet away through the garage window. His daughter's inquiring eyes and long blonde hair had tumbled so close to the erect boyish cock in her hand that she stuck her tongue out experimentally to sample the smooth texture of the round fleshy head, her tongue thrust yearningly toward the adolescent's swollen penis. Ellen shifted her position, to get her head nearer, which pulled her own cuntal softness from the reach of Mark's exploring hand. She lay supine on the edge of the woodpile, facing the window, her mouth teasing the entire blood-filled length, and now Mark shifted his own position to be able to continue exploring her nakedly widespread pussy, leaning his upper body on the woodpile behind and bringing his hand up through her legs from behind.
Everything was visible to Ellen's father from the window; he saw the tiny pink bud of her clitoris twitch and throb with obscene yearning during the instant Mark had broken contact with her wet cuntal mound in order to shift position and he saw her, when Mark had regained contact, lift one leg invitingly high into the air to admit his hand as she began to purse her lips arid blow her steaming hot breath onto the end of the quivering fleshy rod. She blew and blew as the slender boyish cock stretched hotly for the ceiling. Then she opened her lips and closed her mouth suddenly over the smooth bulbous head of the lust-knotted cock. Roger could see her soft moist lips pucker as she sucked, and then loosen as her tongue swirled hungrily around the thick desire-inflated tip as though she were licking a lollipop. Mark's young hairless loins thrust involuntarily upward to hasten the process and soon Ellen had the entire length of the excited adolescent's penis enveloped tightly in the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
The pink inner flesh of her lips was being pulled out and stretched, as it clung to the flesh of Mark's driving cock while his daughter sucked hungrily, fully caught up in the lewd task with all of her teenage concentration. Her round girlish breasts jerked and danced obscenely from the effort and her naked young body began to glisten from the tiny droplets of perspiration forming over the skin. Mark shoved his loins up hard against her face in a quest for a final end to the delicious torture.
Suddenly Ellen began to rotate her pelvis wildly, to skewer her boy friend's middle finger deeper and deeper up into her tight innocent vagina, until she raised her buttocks entirely off the pile of boards, grinding the firm half-moons wildly as she gyrated with still more abandon, emitting a low groan from deep in her throat that was nearly choked to silence by Mark's penis thrusting into her mouth. She suddenly froze her buttocks in the air for one perfectly motionless instant, and then collapsed, quivering spasmodically, back onto the woodpile, where her legs flailed softly into the air for a moment and then fell exhausted, limp as butter.
Understanding, her youthful partner removed his wetly glistening finger from her shuddering vagina, and Ellen's violated pussy ecstatically gushed its milk-white secretion mixed with tiny telltale streaks of blood. The girl had her first orgasm, or her first orgasm she had not given herself, and its lust-inciting effect was only to increase the maddening tempo of her sucking on her boy friend's still inflated penis to the point that the wetly driving instrument seemed to ram cruelly all the way down to her tonsils. The ramming increased to a staccato fever-pitch as she hungrily licked and sucked in earnest, until suddenly the rock-hard member began to jerk involuntarily in her surprised mouth.
She had done it!
Mark's exploding penis spurted out its fresh young cum and Ellen looked astonished, frozen in her position, the boy's cock still sunk in her ovalled mouth even as his thick white semen began to pour wildly from the corners of her overflowing lips. She had not expected this -- she didn't know how a male had his climax and her eyes had almost a look of terror. Suddenly she began to choke and force her head loose, helplessly spitting out the hot sperm, gagging, spitting out more, as Mark put an arm reassuringly around her and disengaged his inflating cock from her cum-filled mouth.
Ellen sat upright now, still spitting, her legs still unthinkingly spread apart on the woodpile with the large wet stains and streaks of blood soaking into the wood beneath her buttocks. It had been a session of many innovations and discoveries for the teenage girl, and the last one -- the sea of hot swirling liquid in her mouth -- had caught her totally by surprise.
Roger understood his daughter's suffering and wanted to rush in, calm her as Mark was doing, but that was impossible now. At this late moment he could not reveal his lewd role in this affair -- participating in it, in the effect of not breaking it up at the beginning, and then by watching it, and finally by enjoying it. Enjoying his own pretty daughter being ravished, although it was only by a young boy's finger. Christ, what had he sunk to? He had forgotten in the interim that Ellen was his daughter and only now did the thought rush back to him with its full impact and make his skin crawl. He had watched his young tender daughter being debauched by -- or more accurately, debauching -- a gangly and rather repelling adolescent. And in a garage, no less! In broad daylight! The whole thing was just too fantastic!
The couple inside began to stir; Ellen was wiping her face with a hanky before she retrieved her clothing and began to dress. Outside, her father started to look hungrily again at her body as she moved about bending to pick up her clothes, but suddenly he checked himself. He had to go before they came out of the garage and discovered him, and he began to move fast, stopping only at the noise of the hedge scraping against the garage wall in his wake as he passed. He bent and switched to tiny steps until he emerged directly into the driveway and, for want of a gesture he glanced business-like at his watch. He allowed his eyes to quickly scan the street as he walked on, and was relieved to find the street was empty, and no one had seen him. That, at least, had been spared him.
What was he doing on the street? Oh yes, the grocery store -- and for that he was walking in the wrong direction. He did an about-face and, just as he was ready to pass the Green house again, saw Mark and Ellen parting with a light kiss on the porch steps. Mark Green went inside and Ellen bounded in her father's direction.
"Hi, Roger," she said to him in passing, tossing her long blonde hair.
Roger watched her running ahead of him down the sidewalk until she disappeared around a hedge at the next corner. He crowed ... she had never called him that before.
Chapter 3
The remainder of spring trickled away entirely and now a summer sun burned over head. The gulls soared above the gray beach, shrieked to one another, and then dipped and swooped one by one to land on a large rock some distance out into the Atlantic as Roger Johnston lay idly watching. He was stretched out on a pop-patterned beach blanket his daughters had given him on his forty-first birthday. There were other blankets and other people on the beach, all in a cluster near Roger, but beyond this small collection the beach was deserted; for the people were his family -- and the beach was his private property.
The beach was important to all the Johnstons because in the summer and sometimes in the late spring and also in the first few months of fall, he and his family made use of the beach -- together or singly -- every possible moment. While the Cape was swarming with tourists at the public beaches, and while most of the middle-class natives went to restricted beaches owned by -- and thus crowded with -- people from the local communities, Roger and his family had the luxury of their own beach.
It was not large since all Cape Cod beaches, as Roger well knew from his business, could scarcely be any higher priced than they were now, even if they had been plated with gold; and Roger was not a millionaire. Yet he had picked up this beach, which was at the end of the peninsula and separated from the nearby community beaches by two natural cliffs and a string of private piers. From his beach there were no other bathers, and scarcely any boats, to be seen. And as an additional indulgence he had built their private shelter high up onto the rise of one of the cliffs, where it sat, three-walled, the open side facing his stretch of water, like a makeshift castle or monument. It was a bit out of the way for them to traipse up there to change, but they did it, for the cliff was too spectacular not to be used in some way.
Cynthia -- Roger's wife -- came down from the cliff shelter clad now in her bathing suit. It was a one-piece outfit which did not facilitate his looking at her body. Pity, he thought, because he liked her body. She had kept a full trim figure, for a woman of forty the chief feature of which was her voluptuously rounded breasts, but she kept them fully covered by the prudish one-piece bathing suit, and at home when she undressed she always turned away so he could not see her naked curves, much as he loved every inch of them. He had only sucked her breasts half a dozen times in his twenty years of marriage.
He simply was not persistent enough in his physical desires, strongly as he felt them; and moreover, he was not experienced enough to know how to be persistent. Though he did not realize it, Cynthia had a latent hot streak which a skilled lover could have brought out and developed to a rich fruitation, but lacking such a lover, she made love only as a duty. She comported herself; she was so sexually frustrated that she was a virtual powder keg of inhibitions.
Her husband saw only the consequences -- her distant attitude toward him, her frustration -- and not the causes which he might have corrected if he had known them or been able.
Nor did Cynthia know the causes. The consequences, however, were so developed that she and Roger lived in separate world, worlds rushing daily farther apart.
Yet here she was bouncing along the beach -- her full, wide-set breasts heaving beneath the confining suit -- to lie on her blue blanket beside him, a soft curling tendril of wispy pubic hair escaping unnoticed from the tight leg band of her bathing suit. She began to apply her suntan lotion and, in the middle of the process, stopped to light a cigarette which she then allowed to dangle from her soft sensual lips.
She was not the only problem: The other was his business. He had begun as an insurance salesman and methodically over the years developed this modest start into an operation of his own, now employing well salaried people. That was the insurance end of the business, ever expanding, ever demanding more of his time. In addition, there was the other end of the business: Real estate. Combining insurance and real estate in one company was often seen on the Cape, but for Roger it had proven an unusually successful formula.
The real estate branch now sported several new offices and at the latest count he was paying the salaries and commissions of fourteen people to run them. Managing the brokers was not easy, and some were a bit excessive in the wheeling and dealing they did in Roger's name, bringing him a string of law suits. This was his alley -- he was a lawyer by training -- and he always did get through the suits unscathed or only lightly damaged. Yet they grated on his nerves just as the whole business enterprise grated on him.
It all took too much time and concern, and the result was that he had begun to drink. This problem was about a year old now and had steadily escalated as he sought to drown his troubles in booze -- the troubles, and more so, the sexual estrangement of his wife -- although he felt guilty at trying to escape from reality this way.
Today he had taken off from work to try to face his problems head-on, intending to relax on the beach and think out the entire business. He would be with his family, and above all -- what he repeated to himself over and over -- he would not touch a single drop of liquor.
School was out for the summer now and out of the corner of his eyes he could see his daughter Ellen and his older daughter Louise reach the rock where the sea gulls gathered and, clambering up on it, scaring the gulls away into shrieking flight. Ellen stood glistening on the rock, just out of the water, both parts of her tiny two-piece white bathing suit nearly falling off from the ripening curves of her body. He thought he could see the top of the triangle of her young blonde pubic hair -- but perhaps it was his imagination, and he felt relieved when Ellen tugged at her suit to pull it back up into place But even then it could not mask the tantalizing cleavage of her jutting young breasts and in the back it did not attempt to cover the top inch or so of the narrow crevice between her two smoothly curved buttocks. The wetly clinging suit indented at the thinly dividing slit of her pussy -- and he thought he could see the entire swollen length of it where the suit clung so lewdly.
He pulled his eyes forcibly away ... he would have to get a grip on himself!
His older daughter Louise was totally a different creature, seventeen, and thus more fully developed than thirteen-year-old Ellen, with full beautifully rounded buttocks and firm voluptuous breasts just as developed as Roger's wife's. He stared at his older daughter as she smoothed her short dark hair while standing on the rock. He had not seen her naked since she was ten, and he couldn't help wondering what that ample, classically formed body would look like without clothes. He guessed her pubic curls would be dark brown like the rest of her hair, totally different from that of his fair blonde daughter, just as her dark complexion -- fully tanned already by the first few beach outings -- was also a sharp contrast to Ellen's. In height and build Louise was nearly the equivalent of two Ellens, and he momentarily studied her statuesque body outlined enticingly by the wet black bathing suit. This was the result of his vowing not to drink today and to be with his family: It only increased his frustration, only incited his slowly building sexual arousal.
The older brunette daughter was clowning around on the rock with Ellen, trying to push the smaller but stronger girl into the water, and the two of them flexed back and forth, climbing around the rock for new footings. Jesus Christ, the ass on Louise! -- he had never really noticed until today. Her tight black bathing suit was also a bikini, but in keeping with his older daughter's more prudent character, it was not quite as brief as Ellen's, and it showed none of the crevice between her generously molded ass-cheeks but only the two saucy dimples on her back just above where the narrow crevice would begin.
Louise was like syrup: Thick, flowing, moody and rich, tending sometimes towards lethargy, but it was an elegant and fluid, womanly sort of lethargy. She would make someone a good wife. She would make someone a good fuck too!
He heard her laugh as Ellen succeeded in pushing her loose from her footing, then he saw her thrash wildly in the water before clambering up onto the rock, and as she climbed up on all fours he saw from behind the tantalizing swell of her pubic mound and a few curly wisps of black pubic hair which escaped from the leg band of her black bikini panties as she struggled, laughing, back up onto the rock. As she jumped upright, her breasts, full and ripely matured, nearly tumbled out of the overflowing cups of her swim suit brassiere. She must have been a forty -- God would he like to feel those twin mountains of soft flesh into throbbing passion! And those tiny nipples which he could see thrusting out against the thin material of her wetly clinging suit -- how he could fondle and rub them into fleshy stiffness, how he could run his mouth and tongue moistly over them, how he could take the small sensitive tips of her breasts into his mouth and try to swallow them.
Christ, what was he thinking, what sort of a degenerate was he becoming, lying here on the beach and mentally seducing his own daughters? This was what not drinking led to!
Louise's personality fit with her body like a glove. She was smart but no genius like Ellen, enjoying heavier music of the romantic period and dating boys on the intellectual side -- indeed, he wondered if she even kissed them, for always when he saw Louise and a boy friend they were involved in heated, hand-gesturing discussions. Her temperament was slow to react and, once reacting, was slow to stop reacting. All of this fitted with her slow, voluptuous movements, the extreme ripeness of her seventeen-year-old body, the womanly maturity she had required which was more than that of the ordinary seventeen-year-old girl.
She was steady and trustworthy and, unlike Ellen, was allowed to date freely, had in fact been doing so since Ellen's age. God, he wished she would spread her long shapely legs a bit more -- she was sprawled back down on the rock and he could see the long narrow indentation of her cuntal slit where the black swim suit fitted snugly over the intriguing mystery of her covered mound. He put himself mentally into the scene; he was on top of her with his fingers creeping up inside the tight elastic leg band of her suit; he was teasing her softly curling pubic hair; he was separating the hot wet lips of her pussy and he was calling out to her:
"Louise! Louise! Louise!"
Holy Christ, this he had not imagined -- he had actually called out! She lifted her knee in surprise, giving a beautiful view of her large rounded buttocks peeking tantalizingly out of her suit, and then she came to her feet. She dived off the rock and then surfaced -- head, arms, and firmly rounded buttocks -- swimming towards him while his younger daughter Ellen and his wife on the blue blanket next to him paid no attention. Now she was on the beach walking towards him -- dark, mysterious, jiggling succulently, dripping wet, her ripe voluptuous breasts swaying from side to side as she moved. She came up beside him and kneeled down at his side on the blanket, an innocent, inquiring look, on her cleanly sculpted face, Roger's eyes riveting guiltily on her fully hanging breasts, and the outline of her nipples while he counted, out of the corner of his eye, the wisps of soft black pubic hair curling from under the leg bands of her suit as she kneeled: One, two, three, four, five. Good God, how would he ever get himself out of this?
"Yes, Dad? What did you want? Is it time to go?"
"No, Louise. No, darling, I think we can stay awhile longer. At least if Ellen doesn't burn, if she has her sun-tan lotion on. She has very light skin you know."
"I know," Louise said.
"Her skin isn't dark like yours," he said forcibly shifting his eyes to the ocean. God, this was ridiculous. Why couldn't he think of something intelligent to say!
"I know," she said in a ripple of laughter. She paused. "I think Ellen's all right. She's got lotion on -- in fact she's all greasy with it."
Roger swallowed audibly. Louise's provocatively hovering body was coming back into range of his eyes no matter how hard he tried to stare at the ocean. "The reason I called you, Louise, was just to say don't hurt each other out there on the rock. It's sharp, you could cut your ... your skin. Don't be too rough."
"Okay, Dad. We'll be careful. Don't worry!" She smiled and left. Her attitude towards him had been maternal, consoling.
Roger glanced at his wife, relieved to find that she was reading a magazine and had paid no attention to the conversation. No one suspected anything, but Christ was it a close call! And now he was staring at Louise's full firm buttocks swinging invitingly left, right, left, in the bottom of the bathing suit as she walked away. God how he could knead those enticingly round ass-cheeks, jiggle them as they were jiggling now, clamp a firm grip on them one in each hand. If he could only stop this train of thought!
He lay flat on his back and watched the gulls, wondering how he had gotten himself into this. If only he hadn't weakened and lecherously pounded the hole in the wall that one time. And wait a minute -- Louise's bedroom was on the other side of his study -- he would only need to -- no, stop, stop, stop!
Forty-one years old, he thought, forty-one years old and horny enough to ogle his own adolescent daughters. Yet he was in fact a responsible man, a good father until now, a sort of model in his community. When the neighbors had something they wanted done, they often came to Roger Johnston. His very manner, and his presence, incited respect and calm. And he was handsome, with a strong, athletically profiled face and a physique sturdy as that of a football lineman, though he was -- he had to admit -- putting on too much weight. He was anything the picture his friends and associates would have -- or that he himself would have -- of a desire of young teenage girls.
Still, after all, every man looked at women, even if they were his aunts, his mother, his daughters. It was only human -- you had to notice when a tight little cunt like Louise's wagged before you on the beach. The important thing was not to let such thoughts cross into action; that line, above all, was firmly drawn and he would under no circumstances cross it, he vowed. Do not cross the line into action, he repeated to himself.
Louise, thank God, was out of the water again and now lying next to his wife on the same blanket reading the same magazine. Ellen too was gone from the rock, though he couldn't see where -- probably she had gone for a walk. He felt better now, more braced up now than he'd realized that the important thing was in keeping his occasional thoughts, which might crudely be termed incestuous, only in the realm of thought and not in that of action.
Roger got up, pulled his stomach in as was automatic when he was on the beach, and strode proudly to the water. He plunged directly in and began pulling with swift, practiced strokes out into the ocean, and it felt good, the honest physical integrity of his still powerful muscles drawing him deftly through the deep water. He reached the rock, paused to tread water for a moment, and then took a dive straight to the bottom, about fifteen feet deep here. Interesting, he thought, the underwater world of plants waving in the current of bright-colored little crustaceans, of pressure, of bubbles. Next time he would bring his scuba outfit. Yes, he was all right now and he would put this whole business with his daughters into the past where it belonged. He blew out the last of his air and rose to the surface, taking in a full breath.
And he nearly choked on it.
Framed in the beach house -- in the open side visible only from the water -- was thirteen-year-old Ellen shamelessly removing the top of her tight bikini bathing suit. Not just removing, but tearing it off, and then twirling and discarding it over her shoulder, and then jiggling her firm naked breasts erotically side to side in a wild obscene gyration as she had when her boy friend Mark massaged them. Moreover -- the biggest horror -- she seemed to be looking Roger brazenly straight in the eye, though he was to far away to be sure, kneading her breasts, pulling the small pink tantalizing nipples out, tweaking them into excited erection. She cupped her nakedly white breasts from below, and began slowly, hauntingly, jiggling them. Her agonized father wanted to swim farther out to avoid this lust-arousing sight, yet he felt a compelling hardness in his swim trunks beneath the water and he had to keep watching if only to see what would follow.
Then turning her back to him, Ellen placed her hands on her curving hips, and slowly rolled the bikini panties of her swim suit down over her firm buttocks and then down her tapered young legs to her ankles. Stepping out of them, she picked up the trunks and sniffed lewdly at the loins as though it were exotic perfume. Where had she picked up this sort of thing, where had she learned it? She had certainly been doing some research.
Now she turned to face him again, put her arms up in the air, and stretched languidly. She bent backwards slightly, legs apart, massaging her invitingly curved legs upward from her knees to her well-rounded thighs, and -- he was sure now that he had floated closer with the waves -- looking him dead in the eye. She massaged her blonde, sparsely growing pubic hair and, bending her lithe golden body still farther back, with both hands spread the lips of her hair-lined cunt wide apart until he could see the moist pink cuntal flesh flashing between her parted thighs. Then -- good God! She slowly, teasingly, wormed her own extended middle finger in, worked it way up inside the soft moist opening and began stroking in and out, flattening the palm of her hand against the hair of her pussy with each in-stroke. Her finger was wet and her excited cuntal secretions were flowing lustfully all over her inner thighs, as she finger-fucked herself harder and harder, twisting it and increasing it to the hungering pitch of five or six passion-incited strokes a second. She was being much more brutal to herself than Mark had ever been in the garage, almost as though she enjoyed masochistically punishing herself.
And then suddenly she stopped, apparently out of ideas how to perform, and moved slowly in a circle, lewdly bouncing her breasts and jiggling her voluptuous buttocks. After teasing her flattened hands up and down over her entire naked body, she stopped again, her back to the water and her father, legs spread wide apart, and bent to the ground to touch her toes, staying in the lewd position to let him see the entire length of her still virginal young cuntal slit and the tempting circle of vaginal pink set in the soft blonde pubic curls. Indeed, to let him see anything up between her legs that he wanted.
The precocious teenager reached slowly back behind her naked buttocks and began teasing around with her fingers again, still bent with her upraised buttocks before him, opening and closing the fleshy, reddish lips of her pussy, hotly worming her middle finger into her little virginal vagina and quickly pulling it out to tease the tiny hardened bud of her clitoris. The whole excited region up between her legs glistened now from the moisture of her flowing vaginal juices, and she turned for a second to look back over her shoulder.
Roger tried to look away and watch the waves, to study his wife on her blanket, to let his eyes roam over the beautiful rocky beach, but it was no use, he returned his gaze to his daughter's teasingly lewd play just as she pulled both hands away from her naked little vagina and, as though pondering on what to do next, looked down at one hand as she extended the middle finger straight out. Where had she learned all this? She put the finger in her mouth to lubricate it, and then waved it in the air as though it were a threatening instrument. Then she brought it around slowly towards herself from behind -- at the same time carefully spreading the round-white ass cheeks of her luscious buttocks with her other hand to reveal the dark secretive ring of her tiny anus. Christ, what was she going to do now. As she brought her finger before the small puckered opening she held it suspended suggestively there, widening the spread of her ass-cheeks still more with the other hand, and she seemed by a force of will to make her entire girlish body relax in order to facilitate what would follow. She pressed hard on the finger until the small resisting anal passage was ready to give way.
All at once she stuck the finger brutally into its full hilt up her exposed rectum, her hands slapping the cheeks of her buttocks with what looked like a resounding smack, and it must have hurt for she gave a little cry. Perhaps she hadn't done it before, perhaps she'd only heard about it, or ... seen it? Had she been watching some pornographic movies? Whatever, she seemed to be adjusting rapidly to the lewdly violating finger, for she placed her legs even wider apart until it seemed her young upturned buttocks would split -- and begin to slowly pull her finger out, twist it, push it back in, twist it, pull it out, twist it, in a lewd rhythmic motion. It seemed to hurt her or to require great effort, for her nakedly curvaceous body was frozen motionless except for the sodomizing middle finger. Yet -- for still more punishment -- she now forced in a second finger as Roger watched with astonished eyes the nearly microscopic little anal mouth stretching helplessly to allow this double-finger manipulation.
And then an incredible thing happened: His thirteen-year-old daughter Ellen, began to toss her long blonde hair, and to shake her shoulders crazily as though freeing herself from painful sensations, as though beginning to enjoy this forbidden pleasure. She turned again, her eyes glowing with wicked passion -- to ensure herself that her father was still watching -- and then she began to lewdly gyrate her quivering buttocks, slowly at first, and then with increasing abandon until the speed with which she rocked and circled her hips matched that of her obscenely pumping fingers. He had never seen -- or imagined -- such a sight in his life as beautiful Ellen wantonly skewering her entire backside up and down on her two penetrating wet fingers.
She simply could not get enough now. She bent at the knees to grind the firm young buttocks even farther out and back to meet the lewdly impaling fingers, to rotate herself around them, the wide-stretched little anus expanding still more as she twisted her exploring fingers around and around up inside her rectum, the cheeks of her tantalizing buttocks vibrating and heaving, and her hips gyrating and grinding ever harder as she squatted deeper down toward the ground, totally consumed in an erotic animal frenzy which Roger had never known could exist.
Chapter 4
Roger sat bent over his desk in his study drinking furiously to escape the reality of what had happened at the beach just a few short hours before. Over and over he ran the scene through his mind, trying to decide what he could have possibly done to avoid his youngest daughter's obscene performance. He certainly hadn't asked her to do it although he had watched, yes watched, as much as he tried not to; what human being, would not have watched? He had watched if only from shock. He'd simply had no alternative, but still it all bothered him, especially the fact that Ellen had obviously put on her lewd performance for him, and only him, to see.
As the Scotch began to dwindle in the bottle at his side he felt less worried. It was amazing how things always softened after a little dip in the bottle. He'd had to look! He was not after all a piece of chalk. Yet if only it hadn't happened, if only the beach episode had turned out to be the healthy, relaxing family outing he had intended it to be, then he would not be in his room now breaking his vow not to drink today. As it was, he had not only broken his non-drinking vow, but had smashed and shattered it into a thousand pieces. Though he had been drinking privately -- not just in company -- for a year now as an escape, he had seldom consumed enough at one sitting to get drunk. Perhaps a dozen times, if that. The notion of a drunkard in the house was simply too upsetting to his sense of propriety and to the example he intended to set for his children. Today, however -- and at this minute -- he was rip-roaring drunk and there was no turning back.
If only things were all right between his wife and him, then he would not drink and he would not have these tendencies to look at his luscious daughter, Ellen, for which he now stewed in guilt. If only ...
Yet things with his wife were not all right. He considered, for instance, the few hours she'd lain next to him on the beach. Had she talked to him? No. Flirted with him, touched him, swum with him, glanced at him, or in any way recognized his existence? No. No to all of them. He could have made the move, of course, but he'd known how flat her response would have been, and that knowledge did not invite making any moves. Things were stale between them and that was that.
And why, anyway, should he have to court his own wife? If he had to court, why her then when there were certainly better little morsels nearby -- quite nearby -- in fact right here in the house ...
Stop it! For Chrissakes, stop it, stop it, stop it, he ordered himself!
Cynthia and him -- yes, that was an unhappy story hidden beneath what everyone looking on would think was contented marriage. They were cut off from each other, estranged. Though the word bruised him, it described the situation perfectly. Their sex life had dwindled down to practically nothing, just a few perfunctory, obligatory performances for which he might as well have substituted a rag doll. He just could not stimulate Cynthia, for all his solid, handsome appearance, for all the generous size, even, of his cock. Roger faced this fact only in moments of complete abandon and breakdown, such as now. Yet even at such moments, he did not suspect that his own lack of experience was the reason he could not excite his wife, the reason, ultimately, why she was each day building more and more of her life separate from him.
Cynthia was even separating herself from their children, from Ellen and Louise. She was trying to escape from reality, though in a way different from Roger's. She had just begun a part-time job in the mornings, although they certainly did not need the money, but even so Roger did not object to the job itself. It was just that it fit so well with all of the other escapes she had invented for herself in the evenings, for the last year, in the evenings which she well knew were the only times he and the children were at home. For the last year she had traipsed off to evening courses of all varieties, in all subjects, just to get out. He well knew she had no interest in basket-weaving; she did not even like baskets; yet she had gone through it because there had been no other course available. And now -- to top all of this off -- now when the children were on summer vacation, she'd found this part-time job to get away mornings as well.
In a way, perhaps, he should be grateful. Other wives in the same situation would have found another lover, or gone to group-sex parties, or taken -- he shuddered -- to drinking. The only vice Cynthia had was smoking. And he supposed he had to be grateful, for if she'd been a bit more wild in her search for escape, things could even be in a worse mess. Just as they could be in an even worse mess if she had happened to stumble into the line of sight of Ellen's shocking exhibition given in the three-walled beach shelter this very afternoon ...
The curvaceous body of Ellen; yes, of Louise too, but first and foremost Ellen if only for the exciting way she handled it: he could not wipe away the memory of that naked little body seen -- only seen -- three times now. He put his head in his hands, digging his fingers into his hair and scalp, then collapsed his head on the desk and felt soon that he would fall asleep.
There was a soft knock on the wall.
He sat bolt upright at the sound that seemed to come from Ellen's wall. Had he dreamed it? No, for there it came again, three short and very soft raps which would only be audible from his room and hers.
Was it really on the wall, or was it at the door? He wondered just before it came again -- three short, soft knocks and it was on the wall. By the nail hole. His heart thudding in his chest he got up and walked noiselessly to the nail hole and pressed his eye to it, squinting in an effort to focus, for try as he could there was no sense to be made from the pattern of blue color splashes and deep, wavy black shadow he saw on the other side of the wall. Then it dawned on him.
He was staring into Ellen's eye which was immediately on the other side of the wall looking back at him.
His daughter backed off, purring some sort of soft song, and he saw she was dressed in dark black winter boots and a wide black belt about her waist and -- except for those items, she was ... completely ... naked ... completely naked and standing invitingly only a foot or two away from the hole he'd drilled in her bedroom wall.
He had never seen her so close before, never been able to drink in her ripening, budding womanhood at this range which was so short he could see the light blonde down which covered her entire teenage body. He seldom even saw his wife's naked body this close, this thoroughly exposed.
Ellen began to dance again as she had at the beach shelter but this time on a more intimate basis, swaying her jutting young rose-tipped breasts from side to side with her hands, but dropping her eyes to his level occasionally to check for response. Then she placed one hand under each breast and, smiling, began to wiggle her hands with slight, nearly imperceptible, but very quick motions, lewd motions well-designed to set the curving white breasts into an ecstatic quivering and jiggling like mounds of jello, the tautly erected nipples bobbing around like corks in a pond.
She moved ever closer to the hole in the wall and -- good God! -- now she was trying to work her naked white breast into it! She was gasping, sighing, from the effort or from her lascivious excitement as she squeezed and pushed hard to jam one ripely swelling nipple into the hole, pulling the breast back out again and -- dipping a finger quickly into her moist throbbing cunt -- lubricating the small pink nipple with her finger and then trying to jam the enticing mound into the hole towards Roger's eye. In response, her drunken, lust-incited father maneuvered and hungrily forced his tongue in a similar fashion from the other side trying to touch the hot rubbery tip of her throbbing nipple.
Do not cross the line to action. Do not cross the line to action, he thought jerking his tongue back in horror at himself. Ellen, unsuccessful at trying to push her nipple still farther through the hole, and feeling Roger's hot breath leave, also slowly withdrew. The tortured nipple was now enormously stiff and erected, and bruised -- there seemed even to be blood on it -- and she forced her throbbing breast upward toward her mouth and licked the nipple clean which made it jut enticingly outward still more from the full firm roundness.
Now she began dancing nakedly around the room, although it was not a vulgar dance like she had done in the beach house -- perhaps she realized her father was too inhibited to be much stimulated by such an obscene exhibition. As a pre-teenager, she'd had ballet lessons, and what she did now was an improvised ballet, but in the nude, with many sensually provocative leg raises, bends and spreads that her father's blood was churning in his loins. As she floated around the room, scarcely impeded by the tall black boots, her ripening breasts and round curved buttocks undulated slowly like waves on the beach. As she danced, she continued half humming, half singing her soft song, and her face slightly flushed, was ironically a picture of adolescent innocence. She was giving an exciting performance, but one help perhaps was the bottle of cognac on Ellen's nightstand, of which shed already consumed one-third. So she had found his liquor supply and learned how to use it! He thought it was a secret that he kept it in his study.
She was doing an erotic ballet, suggestively emphasizing the charms of her firm curvaceous body. Well, she'd always been good at dancing -- with clothes, that is! He remembered those lessons he used to drive her to when she could realistically be called a child, given by an eccentric old woman who'd once danced with Bolshoi. A few times he'd gone into the studio to pick her up and he had seen the practice room full of barely adolescent girls working with bars and mirrors to music from a record player and to the commands of the old woman. Ellen must have been ten then, for it was just before she stopped the lessons.
He had entered the studio that one time and hungrily watched the pretty little girls finish their last five minutes of provocative leg raises over the bar. Some of the girls were not so little, some had the beginnings of breasts, and in the case of a few older teenagers, very developed voluptuously mounded breasts and full thighs with smooth round buttocks, which came well into display as they stretched and strived to work their tapered legs sensually around the bar. Among this selection of partially or fully developed girls, he noticed, was his precocious ten-year-old daughter Ellen. She had always been ahead of her time, or her age, in all respects, and he noticed while standing there that her softly curving pussy mound, stretched incitingly wide under the tights as she raised her legs to the bar, had at least the external appearance of a woman's. The small rounded cheeks of her buttocks, though, were those of a little girl child; and her budding breasts were still only miniscule rock-hard mounds, only beginnings. Yet he had the feeling for the first time watching her in that room that his daughter was no longer a little girl. Something about the look in her eyes, the reticence and new knowledge of her expression, suggested that -- as did the visible evidence of coming changes in her developing body. In point of fact, Ellen at that time had not begun menstruating, for his wife Cynthia announced its beginning later, at the age eleven and a half. Still, at ten Roger had seen for the first time a womanly little Ellen. And now -- through the hole he'd drilled in her bedroom wall -- here she was doing the same thing -- suggestively raising her long shapely legs as though up to a bar -- only this time she was naked and wearing black leather boots and a wide belt and showing the soft parted lips of her fully developed pussy, pink in color up beneath the tantalizing light blonde pubic hair, and above were swaying moderate-sized breasts with small erected nipples, breasts voluptuous enough to make any man happy. And around in back was a tantalizing little ass that in its tightness and fluidity was so saucy that no matter how innocently Ellen tried to walk down the street with it, she always seems to be trying to start a male riot. And now those buttocks were naked and dancing before his eyes, the softly mounded ass-cheeks waving back and forth about three feet away from his eye, smooth and unblemished, with the narrow crevice spreading wide in some of her tantalizing positions so that he could catch a hungry glimpse of the pink hairless ring peeking out, the tiny puckered anus she had sodomized and distorted so lewdly with her very own fingers some hours before.
Transitions were always fast with Ellen and in a fraction of a second she stopped suddenly and seemed as though she had never been dancing. She walked to the bed and sat down on it, legs spread perhaps a foot apart, and stretched languidly. Then she slowly spread her legs wider apart, directly facing the nail hole with all her delicious nakedness exposed from her uplifted young breasts to the soft light blonde-haired triangle of her cunt.
Roger almost choked as his young daughter began lasciviously massaging her breasts in tiny teasing circles, tweaking the softened nipples into sudden throbbing hardness. Her legs scissored slowly open and closed, exposing the thin slit of her wetly glistening vagina nestled teasingly in the sparse blonde hair up between her widespread thighs.
Her feet were pointed directly at her heavily breathing father now as she laid her head back on the bed and began to work her shapely adolescent body into a burning passion. Her hotly grinding buttocks twisted against the mattress as though she were trying to bury herself in it, and sheer wanton desire appeared in her deep blue eyes.
She writhed more lasciviously now as though being attracted by some unseen lover, both her hands dancing over her body as though out of control, the fingertips gliding over the smooth milk-white belly and coming to rest together at the tender "vee" of her soft hair-covered cuntal furrow. She groaned at the sudden lewd contact of her hands with the moist pink slit and pulled her knees straight up, toes still on the mattress. Then she straightened her legs out over her like two beautifully carved ivory columns above the bed and with a deeper groan, let the columns fall wide apart to fully expose to her excited father the clearest view he'd ever had of the moist glistening furrow up between her thighs. God what a tight little cunt, he thought as her fingers crawled to the soft hair-covered lips and spread them slowly apart until the wet slippery pinkness was fully visible and the tight little vaginal mouth opened hungrily. The half-moons of her sensuously rounded buttocks raised up in lewd anticipation off the bed, spreading the narrow crevice between them, and he gasped at her tiny pink anus nestled mysterious and inviting below the swollen, desire-agitated pussy lips.
Roger gasped as his brazen daughter slowly inserted her middle finger up into the glistening pink vaginal slit, stroking her tiny bud-like clitoris. Her probing fingers worked themselves inside the edges of her passion-drenched cuntal lips, and then she slipped her finger into her tight little vaginal opening and began to work it smoothly in and out between her legs. Apparently she liked it, for her legs jackknifed back, knees mashed against her breasts, and her rounded buttocks rose and fell in response to the lewdly thrusting finger. Ellen's facial muscles tightened as she added another finger to the first and, clenching her teeth, pushed in beyond the hungry pink folds into her expanding and contracting little cunt-hole. They disappeared with a soft, sucking noise and a moan of forbidden pleasure purred ecstatically from her lips.
Ellen had been possessed, although she was still in control, as Roger would see in a couple of minutes. Her eyes and teeth were clenched tightly as she writhed beneath her own driving fingers in uncontrollable passion, the rapid rhythm bringing grunts of lewd pleasure from deep within her throat as the fingers sunk into the tight, pink opening, making moist, sucking sounds as she withdrew them only to push them in again. Her face was red -- near to climax and she groaned rapturously as her fingers thrust harder and deeper -- they were just not enough! She tried to brutally thrust a third finger into her cunt but that was too many for her virginal cunt and it would not work. The problem, anyway, was that she needed more depth and not more width. She craved something more penetrating than fingers as her head rolled from side to side on the pillow, her long blonde hair flying in frustration at the nearness and yet the distance of a climax. Her hand beat a wild staccato sliding the two wet fingers against the wide-straining buttocks which she smacked sharply on each instroke, her deep guttural sounds of joy faster and louder with each passing second. The climax was coming, hanging by a thin thread above Ellen, and just a few more deep thrusts and twists might have brought it she knew, but that is not what she wanted.
Suddenly, on an out-stroke she pulled her fingers all the way out -- air rushing into her vagina popping like a champagne cork and rested her hand motionless on her leg. Her entire vagina area was dripping wet, and now the unused finger also shone glisteningly with the passionate secretions. She spread her legs still wider, a ballet dancer's spread, and moved her trembling hands back to her cunt where she grasped the pink fleshy lips in her fingers and spread them wide apart to merely hold them there, revealing invitingly the wet, fully prepared opening of her virginal vagina which had seen nothing more than a few fingers, and never a hard male cock. On the other side of the wall the lust-swollen cock she wanted beat maddeningly inside her father's pants.
The young blonde teenager remained frozen in this position of wanton invitation, each hand grasping one blood-filled lip of her pussy and spreading it lewdly out to its full width. She was again humming her soft song and she began to slowly open and close the tightly stretched lips -- open and close, open and close -- and at the same time she flexed the little finger of one finger back and forth in a lewd motion of beckoning for her father to come to her hungry, stimulated cunt, working open and shut in a wild rhythm of temptation.
She broke off her soft melody to say just barely audibly, "Daddy, come here. Daddy, Daddy, come here." She groaned from far down in her throat, hardly able to prolong this throbbing agony. "Please, Daddy," she repeated, "come to me, come here, come right here ..."
Yet in his mind Roger had journeyed back to the little Ellen of ten years old, who was a picture of innocence, a daughter who needed and deserved her father's protection and of whom he had been thoroughly proud. He could not connect that Ellen with the wantonly panting girl before him now, craving satisfaction. He simply could not believe, though the proof was before his gaping eyes, that in a few short years the hard, thin little girl's body had become this trembling, palpitating incarnation of lustful arousal spread obscenely before him. How could it have happened? But yet, it had, clearly it had and the most incredible thing of all was that she desired her own father. Perhaps only because he was the nearest man; but whatever, she desperately desired him -- no, at this moment it was stronger than a desire, it was an immediate over powering need, one which no male, seeing Ellen in her present hungry condition, could in good conscience fail to satisfy. He had to respond.
Ellen was getting still wilder as she writhed around on the bed and continued flexing her little finger in uninhibited invitation, at the same time moving her own eyes back and forth from the puffy hair-lined lips she was spreading so temptingly with her trembling fingers to the open nail hole and her father's eye on the other side. She was heaving her buttocks up and down, trembling uncontrollably, as she pressed the full pink lips of her excited pussy open and shut, open and shut, ever faster, invitingly flexing her little finger, her hands and the entire area between her legs drowned in the vaginal secretions pouring from her impassioned cunt.
Chapter 5
Roger, fully drunk, did not hesitate to answer his daughter's plea.
He went carefully into the hall, glancing around to make sure no one saw him, and then tried the door to Ellen's bedroom. It was unlocked, naturally, and pushing it open, he went in so quickly that he swirled back on the door, without having even looked at Ellen, and immediately locked it. The bolt made a noise as it locked, but he was sure the noise wasn't too loud and no one would have heard it. And it turned out he was right, luck was with him ... so far.
Ellen lay in the exact same position on the bed, her legs scissored out and one lip of her pussy clasped in the fingers of each hand which pulled the wetly blushing lips wide apart. She saw her father and immediately smiled at his eyes going straight to her pinkly glistening pussy. As he walked a few steps closer to it, she watched him shed his clothes into a careless heap on the floor, and she squirmed in heated anticipation. He sure had a good solid body -- she'd thought it would be like that. And the massively swollen cock, my God! It was much bigger than her boy friend Mark's, and as soon as Roger dropped his shorts, his state of excitement was obvious from the way the long thick penis reached -- throbbing lewdly -- toward the ceiling. He came a few steps closer, standing directly between his daughter's widespread legs, his penis thrusting out hard and menacing before him.
"Fuck me, Daddy," she groaned. "Fuck me. Please." She moved farther up onto the bed, and then leaned to the nightstand to hurriedly grasp the cognac bottle which she pressed to her lips and drank, gulping, for several seconds. Then she returned to her position in the middle of the bed, so he could come to her whenever he wanted.
She needed a little bracer too, he thought, or she wouldn't have had to take some more cognac before letting him fuck her. What was it, really, this taboo about not touching flesh of the same family? It must be some age-old remnant of the first societies, a taboo handed down in writing and practiced through all the major religions of the world right to the present day. That made it strong, all right, and Roger felt its strength inside him in his fear of violating it. He wondered if, without the moral code which had been pounded into him since birth he would still have felt this fear of incest on his own. Perhaps, he didn't know. Strong as the sensual desires of the body were, and much as they blurred the mind, he might not have felt it without the forced social heritage: His cock, for instance, throbbed impatiently out before him now without the slightest concern. Yet he was in control of his cock and the taboo on incest raced through his mind like lightning. It must be a pretty deep thing since even Ellen, young and unthinking as she was, thoroughly drunk and thoroughly aroused as she was, had seemed to feel the need for yet another drink before submitting to him.
"Fuck me, Daddy, please fuck me," she implored.
And her faint subconscious hesitation revealed by that last drink -- though now completely contradicted by her words and position -- was nothing compared to his lingering and fully conscious scruples. He was in such a state of lascivious hyperstimulation -- not having had a fuck from his wife for a week -- that he felt his hot white sperm might begin spurting from his cock and out over her naked young body any moment now regardless of what he did. Yet even so, and steaming drunk as he himself was, he could not tolerate the thought of fucking Ellen, for Ellen was his own lovely daughter, his own flesh and blood!
Yes, that she was: Delicious flesh and hotly circulating blood. He had to respond in some way, but he would absolutely not fuck her. Do not cross the line into action; do not cross the line into action, the reminder rang through his head. Yet he was going to cross the line ... a little ... just a little ... into action. But no fucking. Absolutely none ... out of the question.
Why, at this close range just a glance at her hotly exposed little pussy was enough to show she was a virgin. She was only thirteen and she had damn well better be a virgin! That pussy looked so tight, the vaginal opening hardly the diameter of his little finger, to violate that narrow unstretched pussy was unthinkable to Roger. To fuck his own thirteen-year-old virginal daughter was too horrible! Yes ... God ... look at that hot little cunt ...
He hit on a solution to his dilemma. Why not just pet with her as adolescents do? As, in fact, he saw her do that time with Mark in the garage? What harm was there in that? Just pet and -- no matter how much she might tempt him -- nothing, absolutely nothing more.
He clambered onto the bed beside her, his palpitating hardness leading the way, and as soon as he lay down next to her she immediately took the rock-hard shaft into one of her hands and began stroking it heatedly with the other. Explosive as Roger was feeling, he almost shot his cum right on the spot. Reaching boldly over with his own hand, he felt his body course with tingling electric sensations as his fingers sank excitedly into her curly, fine-textured pubic hair. He crept farther -- there was the beginning, the very top, of her slender pussy-slit with the little pink bud of a clitoris pounding lustfully away with blood. He moved farther down ... holy Christ she was gushing wet with heated vaginal secretions as he had never found in his wife. There was the opening of her tiny unstretched vagina, and as his finger circled the small virginal opening Ellen jerked at the tingling sensations it shot through her own enraptured body.
They started petting -- Ellen rubbing his heavily palpitating cock, her father working his extended middle finger slowly up into her clasping vagina, astonished all the while at how tightly it squeezed back around his probing finger. But all this was not enough for the inventive thirteen-year-old -- she could finger-fuck her cunt by herself -- and she wanted something better. Jerking away from him, she released his licentiously pulsing cock, and shifted her position on the bed until she was again lying right next to him, but upside down with her head by his feet and her feet by his head. Over the last weeks she had purchased some pornographic movies from a source in school and watched them down in the basement, using her father's projector; one of the movies had "Sixty-Nine" as its title and it showed a man licking a woman's pussy while at the same time the woman sucked voraciously at his lust-swollen cock. The movie had driven Ellen into a helpless erotic frenzy and that was exactly what she wanted now, sixty-nine, as a preparation to the wild incestuous fucking she needed so badly. No one had ever licked her young teenage pussy; what she did not know was that her father also had never licked anyone's pussy. But this would change.
Lying upside down next to her hotly aroused father, she now raised herself up on all fours, and moved her head and hands over his excitedly throbbing penis, her long strands of silky blonde hair falling around his stomach and semen-filled balls as she slowly lowered her head while blowing her hot breath at the pulsating cock-head which was still several inches from her soft moist lips. She hoped he would get the hint and also move slightly so that her pussy mound would be suspended directly above his face instead of at his side; but he did not take the lewd hint. Well, she could wait, she would start kissing him there anyway, for she was aroused and excited by the sight of the thick blue-veined, man's penis throbbing away with the beat of his heart, and she wanted so to wrap her lips hotly around it.
Her face was directly over her dad's hairy loins now and she played her hand back and forth on his ever-hardening penis. Her lips were a bare inch away from the tip and she opened her full-upped mouth to exhale softly against it, her hot breath flowing around the bulbous end with a warm maddening slowness.
"Ooooh my God, suck it, suck it now, baby," she heard her father groan wildly below her. His obscene words excited her, and her response was immediate.
Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with the thick rubbery head of his cock. She circled it over the smooth, pulsating flesh as he groaned and twisted helplessly from the cruel teasing she was subjecting him to. Then the tip of her slowly searching tongue found the tiny slit in his throbbing cock-head and darted wetly into it. The pulsing opening was already moist from the tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeping licentiously through from his extreme excitement, and the sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate heavily and her nostrils to flare slightly out.
She dropped her hands to the base of her father's thickly erected penis and cupped his soft hair-covered testicles gently with one hand, grazing her nails tauntingly over the lust-tightened flesh. The other hand she placed at the thick hard base of his cock where it soared achingly up from the curly black pubic hair covering his loins. She pinched it between her thumb and her forefinger and pulled down teasingly, just as she began planting moist warm kisses around it, beginning at the rubbery tip and tracing a path Roger could scarcely stand down the entire pounding length of it to the base and then wetly back up to the lust-knotted tip again. She played long, very long, as Roger groaned from deep in his chest, having never before in his life experienced the joy of a female's lips and tongue warmly sucking his cock.
He could take the lewd teasing no more and reached down to plant his hands in his daughter's hair, and then thrust his fully expanded loins up eagerly with tremendous force, holding her small blonde head in place with his hands. The smooth rubbery head of his cock rammed up inside, crushing heatedly through her soft moist lips, between her white teeth and into the warm wet saliva of her clasping mouth. Ellen could feel the desire-stiffened male flesh rub the entire length of her tongue, almost embedding itself deep in her throat and she closed her eyes tight to keep from choking.
This was very different than Mark Green's fourteen-year-old penis, and her father was becoming more demanding, besides not giving her anything back for it, either! She wagged her arched hips next to his head, gyrating her buttocks, but he did not take the salacious hint and climb with his head up under her waiting cunt. Rats! She turned her head slightly, the cock in her throat following, to see if he was even looking at her naked pussy so invitingly near to him. No ... his head was raised so he could watch his cock fucking into her clinging little mouth. The bastard! The selfish bastard!
"Jesus, mouth is like butter," she heard her father murmur as he began to undulate his hips up into her face, his great fleshy staff protruding banana-like from her lewdly ovalled lips.
"Suck harder! Suck harder!" he demanded, his voice thick and crude from passion and from the bottle of Scotch he'd drunk.
Ellen sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with a lewd vengeance around and around the throbbing head ramming so forcefully in and out of her tight rounded lips. She sucked from the masochistic joy of being used, used like some girl of the streets, until eventually her mouth would fill with her father's obscene white sperm and this time -- unlike the time she'd sucked Mark -- she was going to swallow it. Oh God, she was going to suck his heavily loaded cock bone-dry. And she also sucked so wildly in the hope she would stimulate him to take up his end of the sixty-nine position. In the film it had looked so easy, yet Ellen herself did not know how to get him started. It seemed so very bold to just work her pussy directly down into someone's face as the girl in the film had done with such ease. She was worried about what his reaction might be. And yet ... if she were to do just that ... if she stuck her excited young pussy right in his face ... would it disgust him? ... or would he ...
Ellen moved on her knees until her arched-up buttocks came directly beside her father's face. Then she raised one knee, spreading her legs provocatively wide apart, flattening her entire little vaginal area out wide into one plane, and planted the knee all the way on the other side of his shoulders. She had done it! All of her naked crotch hung in wanton suspension right on top of his face. She could feel his hot breath covering her entire wet pubic area and the dividing crevice of her smoothly upraised buttocks. Would he get the hint?
She glanced back to see the direction of his eyes, which were gaping at her wide-splayed cunt and her ass so close to him as they had never been before. A tiny drop of her excited vaginal moisture brushed glisteningly onto his cheek; and he did not wipe it off. He began to raise his head slowly toward the round white half-moons of her quivering young buttocks, yet he did not yet touch her, much as she desperately wanted him to. Her buttocks trembled like a leaf.
Ellen's father, hands still clamped in her long blonde hair, held her head trapped tightly between his thighs as he thrust his cock mercilessly up into her throat, forcing her lips apart with each upward jerk until almost the whole of his long rigid member was consumed by her straining mouth. Her disheveled hair flowed down to lie in a soft pool on his hair-covered belly, and her firm white breasts danced and shook as she sucked ever more wildly, making obscene slurping noises. Suddenly the tempo changed, as Roger stopped his lewd rhythmic gyration and began to groan with uncontrollable excitement, locking his hands hard around the back of Ellen's bobbing head, drawing it deep down on his pulsing rigidity until all that was left exposed of his cock was a small bit at the base, protruding wet and glistening from his daughter's wildly sucking lips.
Now the explosion came, the explosion Ellen had anticipated and wanted so badly, and her mouth filled with the frantically jetting liquid as she gulped it down her throat with hungry swallows. Her cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warmly working cavern of her mouth filled and emptied, filled and emptied, and she swallowed desperately to get every last drop of the flooding white sperm erupting into it. Ellen herself was whimpering from lascivious desire, but she was still left only to the heat of his breath caressing the entire area between her widespread legs. Suddenly her father's deflating rod of flesh slipped out of her mouth, some thin gossamer strings of hot sperm still connecting her lips obscenely to it even though it was now several inches away from her lips.
No! She wanted it all, she wanted every last drop!
With a vengeance the young teenager took his shrinking cock in one hand and forced it back into her mouth, running her tongue over and over the now lifeless flesh to get the last drop of white hot sperm. She stuck her tongue into the slit at the end of his cock and burrowed into it, then sucked, sucked, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva mixed with the last, hotly searing remnants of her father's passion.
And then it happened! Her father's hands released their grip on her head and came trembling onto her shaking, smooth rounded buttocks and slowly, inquiringly, spread them apart. Ellen could feel his breath more intensely, his face was closer now. Suddenly, as she continued sucking his limp, deflated penis, his tongue jutted lizard-like up into her vagina a little way, sampling, burrowing tentatively, and then disappeared. She felt her thighs being pressed farther open and she sucked in her breath, swallowing deeply and with a gasp as his tongue flicked into searing contact again, the tip teasing moistly against the tiny bud of her clitoris and causing it to throb into greater welcome hardness. With his fingers he spread the opening of her cunt wide apart and then, suddenly dropping his tongue from her tiny sensation-filled bud, rammed it deep up into the moist pink flesh of her needful pussy.
She jerked. It was like no sensation she'd ever had before as his tongue circled around maddeningly up inside her hot little cunt, the tip flicking snake-like against the wetly sensitive walls of her virginal young pussy.
"More! More! Lick me, Daddy! Keep licking!" Ellen groaned, excited even by the lewd words she was saying as she lowered her buttocks until her pussy mound was more demandingly in his face, the gaping little opening of her anus just contracting, by virtue of the obscene sixty-nine position, with the tip of his nose.
Roger pulled the softness of her cuntal flesh ever wider apart with his hands, stretching it cruelly as he heard her beg for more, and now he raised his tongue to the small tightly puckering anus, thrust the tip hard against it until he felt it give way slightly and the tip entered just a tiny bit into the sensitively quivering mystery of her barely adolescent rectum. She fairly shrieked her joy now as he teased hotly up into the incredible tightness inside her rectum.
"Daddy! Daddy! Oh God, oh, my God!"
Barely able to get his tongue in, he removed it, then moistening one finger in the heated secretions of her passion-drenched cunt and returning his mouth to her hotly palpitating little clitoris, he thrust the wet finger forward into her tiny puckered anus, sinking it lewdly in to the first knuckle.
"Uuuuuugh!" she grunted.
He thrust it into the second knuckle.
"Uuuuuugh! Daddy it hurts! Daddy, it hurts, it hurts!"
He held it motionless for a moment and thrust his tongue deep up her hot hair-lined vagina again until she became accustomed to the strange presence in her virginal nether passage, then he thrust a second finger in. She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open, her lips drawn tightly over her teeth to hold back the pain at this twin reaming. Then after an eternity, she began to slowly breathe again and to submit herself to the wildly tingling sensations coursing up between her widespread thighs.
He was licking and sucking in earnest now, and at the same time twisting his fingers around and around in her rectum, stretching it wider with each brutal circle until the pain in her rear passage merged warmly with the powerful pleasures coursing through her tongue-spread pussy and she began thrusting her jiggling white buttocks back down on his sodomizing fingers, swirling and skewering around them in obscene rhythm with the hot lashing of his tongue. The small narrow nether passage clasped his fingers tightly, the ring of muscle pursuing his fingers on the outstroke, and receding before his fingers on the instroke. He slid his free hand up over her back and pressed her upraised buttocks down tight against his face, locking her to him in a lewd wet connection of tongue and vagina, finger and rectum, her thin blonde pubic hair grazing softly against his cheeks.
Nothing mattered now to Ellen but the lovely swirling sensations rippling in wave after voluptuous wave over every heated inch of her naked young flesh. She, like her father, had no morals now, no inhibitions, no thoughts of anything but the present obscenely rapturous sensations. There was nothing else in the world, and she writhed and twisted into his face and cruelly punishing finger gasping out all the lewd words she had recently learned in school.
"Oh God, Daddy! Suck me! Lick me! Lick me! Eat my cunt! Ram more fingers up my ass! It's all yours! Harder, darling! Harder! Lick it, lick it, suck it, eat it! Eeeeeeee! Aaaaaagh!"
Her naked teenage body worked wildly on top of his, her smooth white thighs spasmodically opening and closing on the sides of his head. Roger could feel their warm resilience press tightly against his ears as she would jerk up involuntarily from an extra deep thrust of his tongue in her tight young cunt, or an extra hard twist of his impaling fingers up her narrow rectum. With his wide-open eyes he took in the whole panorama of lust and saw her smoothly working belly begin to rise and fall more quickly, her head flailing out of control from side to side, her long blonde hair lashing about his own reawakening loins.
He thrust his tongue up deeper between her trembling thighs.
She responded by sitting down still more to straddle the mercilessly whipping tongue, sitting down on it so hard now that she ground her father's head into the mattress from the pressure, his face now at one with the wispy blonde plane of her widespread cuntal slit, the two fingers he now had rammed up her tortured rectum just barely managing to clear his nose and nearly breaking from the weight of her tender buttocks bearing down on them. Everything to him was one liquid mass of erotically seeping vaginal juices and the room filled with slurping, vacuum-like noises from Roger's lashing tongue in his teenage daughter's passion-soaked vagina and from his fingers reaching and twisting high up inside her widely stretched little anus.
And suddenly it was just too much! Ellen could feel that his cock in her mouth was now bulbously erect again -- large and hard as before -- and his tongue, even deep as it was now up in her vagina, was simply not enough, not as much as that long desirable cock would be, she thought. She liked the punishing fingers worming around high up inside her tightly clenched rectum but she would have to sacrifice them to get what she really wanted.
Ellen suddenly raised her thighs away from her father, his tongue breaking contact with her hungering vagina with a quick wet noise and his fingers departing from her rectum with a lewd wet gushing sound. She pulled her mouth away from his impatiently throbbing cock and quickly shifted around on the bed until her head was next to his, and his blood-engorged shaft next to her still unsatisfied pussy. She had to have his long thick cock in her! And now, right now!
She reached her hands in panic over to her heavily breathing father and grasped the full length of his stone-hard penis. Then lying on her back, she pressured it voraciously toward her pressured it so hard that Roger had no choice but to follow. She guided it hastily, in a panic, up the warmly throbbing split of her buttocks, not letting it lose contact with the soft sensitive flanges of her cunt until it was poised directly over the hungrily trembling little lips of her naked vagina. Still, even though he was now lying between her widespread legs, he was hesitating. What was it? Wasn't she appealing to him? Was she too young? Were the bodies of full-grown women any better? Or was it ... because ... she was his own lovely young daughter ...
She hurriedly put a hand over his hard male buttocks her other hand still tight around the base of his swollen rod, and with all her might she tried to force this hardened, lust-filled thing she wanted so desperately up between her long shapely legs.
The young teenager felt the moist sensitive lips around her throbbing vagina pushed teasingly open as her grasp succeeded in pulling her father a fraction of an inch closer into her cock-hungry cunt. The elastic-rimmed tightness allowed this amount of forbidden penetration since only the hot tapered beginning of the end of his cock had entered, stretching it already as far as it seemed it could possibly stretch. Yet, she had to have it inside her! His thickly distended penis! Deep up inside! Deeper than she could get with her fingers, deeper than her father could fuck her with his maddeningly probing tongue.
"Come on, Daddy, come on. I need you so much," she whined as she pushed once more on his buttocks, pulling at the same time with her hand grasped around the base of his rock-hard cock. The tight elastic rim of her vagina gave way enough to admit nearly all of the bulbously swollen head and this made her emit a long, low groan from deep within her throat. How could anything ever go in there? God it hurt -- stretched so much it felt like it would rip into a thousand tiny shreds.
Her young virginal cunt was on fire with the pain and yet she had not released her tightly locked grip on his clenching buttocks and Roger himself, getting his first lewd taste of the clasping, teasing softness of her cunt, was drunkenly adding substantial pressure of his own. The blood-inflated head disappeared from his view into her wetly clamping young vagina, and he felt the warm moist walls slipping over his throbbing rigidity like warm melted butter. When had he ever felt a hot little cunt like that? Twenty long years ago? This would be a fuck he would not forget all of his life. His head tipped back loosely as he flexed his buttocks and pushed in still farther, spearing up into his thirteen-year-old daughter's cunt without mercy.
Ellen was no longer helping him and both her hands lay clenched into tight little fists at her sides as she squirmed and twisted like a madwoman at the now excruciating impalement of her tiny young cunt. She'd wanted it, she'd wanted it, yes, but God did it hurt! She tried relaxing her muscles to ease the pain, but it only made the pain worse. So she tightened her cuntal muscles again and the result was that Roger, feeling her do it, misinterpreted it as sexual excitement, as participation in the sensual fucking and shoved cruelly forward now with all his might. Her splayed young teenaged cunt clasped so tightly around his cock that the two might have been one piece of flesh, he had never felt anything so maddeningly tight, and it wildly incited him. With a mad frantic thrust he sank the lust-inflated rod of flesh all the way into the hilt, ignoring Ellen's vain and prolonged moan of pain until his sperm-filled balls smacked sharply against the nakedly upturned crevice of her buttocks.
"Aaaaaaggh!" his pretty blonde daughter writhed nakedly below him. The cock felt like an enormous drill boring through the depths of the belly, battering and smashing everything before it in great waves of warm moist flesh. She said a thousand thanks when it reached its full length and at last remained motionless, for at least it was no longer tearing her apart.
Roger's sperm-laden balls hung like a pendulum against the cheeks of her roundly cringing ass.
But the respite was brief for he began now to slowly pump back and forth, to fuck deeply back and forth as she'd seen in her movies -- only when she'd watched it in the movies, with her finger massaging her erect little clitoris, it did not feel like this. God, was a grown man's cock big! She saw it sliding in and out of her, covered with her flowing vaginal juices, and the sight was as astounding as the feeling, the outer, fuzz-fringed ring of her violated vagina clamping the hardened rod as tightly as a rubberband, and she was surprised that her helpless and naked body did not in fact burst as it felt it was doing. She had reached the ultimate breaking point, and she could no longer find the strength to even twist and writhe her rhythmically fucking father. There was no reason to struggle even if she had found the strength. He had totally conquered her; she held her legs open in servile acceptance as a slave of old, to re lewdly used as her master desired. And, in any case, the whole thing had been her idea, she had in fact been plotting salaciously since she'd discovered the nail-hole several days before. She had wanted it this afternoon when she stood in the beach house gyrating wantonly and abusing herself with her own stroking fingers before her father's gaping eyes. She had wanted it also during the whole lewd performance in this room, a performance lasciviously calculated to seduce him. Yet she had not known it would turn out to be so painful to give up one's virginity. As things turned out, she was the one seduced.
Roger looked down and could see his curly black pubic hair tangled tightly with the sparse blonde curls between her legs, the base of his thick fleshy rod buried deep up into the pinkly throbbing furrow that his tongue had licked to a forbidden passion only moments before. He could see the lips of his daughter's tight little cunt stretched almost to the bursting point, the rubbery outer-lips clasping firmly around the thick blue-veined base of his invading cock.
Ellen flexed her vaginal muscles again in a futile attempt to relieve the pain, but the tantalizing throb of her internal sinews made it worse and again Roger interpreted it as still more encouragement. He plowed his way still deeper and deeper up into her vainly resisting passage, the walls of her futilely cringing little pussy clasping around him firmly as a glove. Ellen could feel every fleshy ridge of his cock as her nerve ends transmitted its monstrous pulsating form in minute detail to her muddled mind. It was alive inside her! The hard rubbery tip was pressing up against the tender surface of her womb, and at the other end -- miles of sensations away -- the hairs of his lust-inflamed balls dangling in the crevice of her buttocks tickled salaciously against her unprotected flesh. She was one with this totally impaling cock and in spite of her pain her tongue began a wild licking at the soft moistness of her lips. There was still traces of her father's white smooth cum on them and her nostrils flared, drawing the pungent male odor deep into her body, mingling it in a strange marriage with the feeling of the throbbing cock lodged deep up in her white soft belly. It all seemed to roll together into one great fiery ball of hunger -- painful hunger -- for still more, and her cunt contracted again in involuntary response at the lascivious thoughts coursing obscenely through her mind.
Roger pumped faster, the tingling in his throbbing cock as Ellen squeezed her internal vaginal muscles maddeningly delicious to him. This would be a fuck, all right. No, this was a fuck!
"Oh," she whimpered through bared teeth, fighting the fine and indistinct line between pressure and pain.
He set a slow teasing rhythm to his throbs, noticing her nostrils begin a slow flaring in time to the rhythmically lewd beat. He heard with astonishment some soft surprised sounds of unexpected pleasure mingled with pain coming from her open mouth in time to his gentle pumping.
"Oooooohhhh, Daddy, Daddy!"
She began to throb back, her wet clasping cuntal flesh opening and closing softly around his excitedly pulsating cock, as her grunts of pleasure increased until they resounded heavily throughout the room. Her head rolled wantonly from side to side on the pillow as her hips began grinding around in a slow, teasing circle beneath his impaling rod. She was totally subdued now, had found she liked it and her hungry vagina began to nibble pleasurably at his cock, to screw itself up tighter toward his hair-covered loins.
Ellen's body felt fully alive now. The pain was receding and the maddening electric tingle that had begun deep within her belly had now reached relentlessly through the entire naked area up between her legs. It rippled through her cunt and over the curl-lined lips, dancing like fire across the milk-white thighs, up the full length of her widely splayed legs and against even the sensitive bottoms of her feet. It pulsed its way up from her spasmodically contracting belly through her rib cage and all the way out to the tips of her erectly palpitating nipples which were so aroused now they felt even the brush of the air around them.
She rotated her hips excitedly from side to side around the ever-expanding, impaling member, her no longer virginal vagina dilating in time to its rhythmic beating. The cock and her pussy were both obscenely alive from the same cause, it was all one fleshy mass of joyful sensation, she thought, and It extended very far, beginning with the heat of the head of her father's driving cock which she savored now through the walls of her clasping inner passage, and stepping -- well, she did not know where, but in her present ecstatic rapture it seemed to end somewhere out in another universe of sensual pleasure.
Roger could scarcely contain his joy as he felt her responding young cunt begin skewering hungrily even more up against the length of his rock-hard penis. The muscles inside her little adolescent pussy were nibbling away greedily at the inflated head. The dilated lips of her hair-lined pink slit pulled teasingly away, sliding wetly down the fleshy rod for several inches and then nibbling slowly back up, buffering her soft blonde pussy curls tightly against his own lust-matted pubic hair, embedding the full length of his hotly throbbing penis deep up into her warm white belly. He became immobile for a moment resting still above her with his palms on either side of her shoulders, his knees pressed tight against the mattress and let her palpitating body pump up and down at will on his wildly jerking penis.
Her father could see its slow withdrawal between them, pulling the soft edges of her youthful pink cuntal flesh out with it as she ground her hips down into the bed -- and the entry, pushing the same softly yielding folds back up into her cunt again as the moist shiny length got swallowed up whole into the salaciously tight opening.
He let her strain eagerly against him for awhile, watching the utter abandon now of her labors, an ecstatic smile dancing across her lips. By the second her motions were becoming faster, the tempo of her jerks up his cock became more erotically urgent -- her teeth bit hard into her lower lip. She was straining to cum, and the secretions of her milking vagina were flowing copiously and causing the in-and-out strokes to produce frantic sucking sounds which incited him to the same desire-maddened pitch his teenage daughter had reached. He resumed his labors with a passion, matching the speed of her own strokes with his, with each wet sharp thrust burying his cock deep into her trembling belly. Her back began to arch up from the bed, her feet planted firmly on either side of his knees as she bucked wildly against him in her over powering need.
"Daddy! Darling Daddy!" Oh God, yes, I think I'm cumming!" She arched her back up until it was like a taut bow, and Roger's cock the arrow. "Daddy, I'm cumming, darling, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming. Aaaaaagghhh!"
With a deep-throated groan -- similar to the one which only fifteen minutes before had been of a virgin's pain -- her body began to vibrate uncontrollably, her own orgiastic juices oozing from the hotly throbbing passage of her vagina. The extra lubrication and the new vibrations sent the sharpest feelings of all to Roger's own heavily aching penis and suddenly it swelled into a hugeness that could not be contained, and a great pressure jerked the entire length of Roger's cock as it began to spurt out uncontrollably its impatient semen.
Ellen could feel the delicious hot white liquid shooting into her like burning fire, ricocheting about inside her dilated young cunt like streams of molten lava. The pores of her tightly clinging little pussy grasped around it, erupting in answer again and again as her own orgasmic juices flowed out against his pelvis, drowning his ejaculating member with silky warmth, and trickling down the crevice of her whitely quivering buttocks over his erupting balls that pressed hard against her expanding and contracting anus.
Ellen reached around her squirming buttocks with both hands and began to desperately milk at her father's testicles pressed into the widespread crevice of her buttocks. She wanted to get the very last drop, it was so good! Her climax began to slowly recede and so did Roger's, but it was still nice, these last smooth strokes, and her legs kicked out, spiraling tremulously up in the air as Roger's slowly deflating cock jerked its last, the sperm now foaming out of the drenched pussy-lips around the base of his thick fleshy rod. The smooth semen-flooded walls of her twitching cunt sucked and sucked hungrily at the palpitating cock until, in an instant, Roger gave one final spasmodic jerk and collapsed across her body just as Ellen's trembling legs also came to rest on the bed, deflating cock still inside her, the mingled juices of both father and daughter still flooding out over their exhausted, satisfied loins.
Chapter 6
Evenings -- normal evenings, that is -- were quite predictable in the Johnston house. There would be a brief period during which Roger and Cynthia would sit across from each other in the living room, Cynthia generally on a corner of the sofa nearest the wall of books, Roger halfway across the room in his very plush, adjustable leather chair, about which were cluttered magazines and newspapers and also still more of his business documents.
From Roger's side, he saw Cynthia framed into the scene of books, sofa, three paintings -- one of Cynthia -- and a window which showed the ocean approximately half, a mile in distance. He liked this view and he could easily -- in fact he often did -- become sentimental over the picture of Cynthia it presented to him. A trust worthy, loyal, attractive wife is what Roger saw.
And from the opposite side of the room, Cynthia saw her husband slouching -- he nearly always slouched when he sat -- in that leather dentist's chair she'd never wanted him to buy, with a background of the fireplace she loved but which hardly ever got used simply because Roger seldom thought of it, of an enormous picture window which looked out on nothing more than several other identical picture windows, and of the half-dozen chairs and the other couch which were never touched because they never had any guests. Most negatively she noted the business papers at her husband's side. Those papers never left him; or rather, he had alternate configurations of them for wherever he went -- one for his study upstairs, one for here, one for the car, and, of course, one for the office. She begrudged him none except the set he kept here -- the one place she and her husband might have had some chance for personal contact.
There was another aspect of Cynthia's view. If she ignored or looked beyond her husband, she saw the piano which in a happier age she herself had played sometimes while her little daughter Ellen danced. These last weeks Ellen seemed to have matured over night and, in fact, was becoming rather wild, even unmanageable. Just as Cynthia was not at the piano, Ellen was not to be seen in the living room. They did manage to keep the girl in the house, but Ellen spent the time in her room, or in the basement, or anywhere but in the scene of this large, empty deathly still living room.
And with the older girl, Louise, it was the same; or at least her absence from this room was the same. Over in the far corner was the little desk and chair, and the comfortable old plush reading chair next to it which they'd moved there five years before when the pitch of school had become more intense. Louise had always needed contact with, and guidance from, others a bit more than Ellen, and she'd been lonely studying in her room. So they'd made an ideal spot for her here, a spot where she could still be at least in sight of others while doing necessary work. It had been a happy arrangement, but now, Louise was also absent, having taken to spending her time in the basement, or in her room, or away with her boy friend -- she was allowed to spend unsupervised time with her boy friend. She did not, apparently, find necessary anymore the companionship and parental guidance she had once sought in this room.
Which was the sadder for Cynthia? Seeing her husband slouched in his chair escaping from his own wife in his damnable business papers? Or the ghostly absence of her children who had once formed so large a part of her life? Whichever, Cynthia was a disturbed woman, and her response was exactly that of her daughters. She wanted to escape this room, to simply get the hell out.
"Good-bye, Roger."
Having broke the silence with that, Cynthia went straight to the hall to get her coat, and in a moment was driving away in her car. She would be on time for her pottery course, but now the room she had left was even stiller, with just the sound of the clock ticking to slice the silence.
Roger was conscious that his wife had left, and he got up, crossed the room to the little antique liquor cabinet, and retrieved a bottle and a glass. Then he sat again in the chair and began methodically to drink, his reason for drinking -- the thing that was currently bugging him -- the fact that several days before he'd fucked his thirteen-year-old daughter, Ellen. The effects on him of this were extremely complicated and had brought him into something of a daze -- the daze which his wife had so happily just fled from. Yes, Roger had fucked Ellen, taken her virginity, sunk his cock all the way up to the balls into the formerly chaste pussy of his own young little daughter. And was he now consumed in guilt? Did he now regret the obscene act, did he search the depths of his soul to wonder how he could possibly set it right?
No! He did not feel a bit guilty! In fact, right now he was remembering the crazy suction of his daughter's hotly clasping little vagina, as his penis had rocked maddeningly in and out. He was trying to remember every detail of the time he had spent locked in lust with her naked young body.
Roger drank now because he did not feel guilty, and this worried him, this worried him very much. A simpler man than Roger might have felt guilt to such an extent that he would expect God to hurl a lightning bolt at him from heaven for his forbidden act. Roger was more realistic and knew that the union of one cock with one cunt did not upset the balance of the universe. But he also knew in his case that it was wrong, and that he should feel guilt. He wanted to feel guilt, he thought as he poured himself another drink, the splash of the liquid in the glass breaking the room's silence. Guilt! Guilt! Guilt, damn it, give me guilt! he thought, and emptied the glass very quickly.
Still, no guilt.
Roger started in his chair from the sudden knowledge that the room was not empty. Was he going mad? No, no ... it was just that so seldom did anyone join him in here. He twisted his head and saw Ellen walking across the room behind him to a cabinet. She opened it, retrieved something, closed it, and walked nonchalantly all the way across the room and out again, neither glancing at her father nor away from him.
Maybe things were not so bad after all. Yes, maybe the little event could be tucked into the past and forgotten since Ellen hadn't seemed to be affected by it just then. Scar tissue did, after all, grow over wounds; there must be some analogous process ... Roger left the thought unfinished as his mind, more relaxed now, began to forget the whole thing. He leaned back still farther in the chair in a welcome comfort, deciding that things were not so bad after all. No, things ... were not so bad ... after ...
Blonde stark naked Ellen appeared reflected to him in the living room mirror as she descended the hall staircase.
She was not looking at her father. Did she know he saw her? Those rose-tipped young titties swaying as she went down the stairs, nipples bobbing around, pointing up toward the ceiling! Christ, now she was facing him full as she reached the bottom of the circular staircase, the blonde curling triangle of her sparse young pubic hair reproduced in perfect detail in the mirror for a moment. Then she was in voluptuous profile -- she was walking through the hall, thank God! -- her long blonde hair swirling about her shoulders, the tight yet jelly-like flesh of her untanned buttocks swinging into view as her steps began to angle away from the mirror now toward the basement door. Up, down, up, down; so fluid and yet so solid, so tempting, that gorgeous ass of hers -- to think he had caressed it, crushed it, in his own hands!
Ellen disappeared from the mirror.
There was a noise of the basement door opening -- it seemed to him noisily, it seemed to him Ellen did want him to notice what she was doing -- and then closing with a bang. Then the sound of Ellen's bare feet padding quickly down the basement steps to the recreation room. And then silence.
Roger could have borne anything but that silence! What was she doing down there? Naked, no less? It was just a recreation room, with a TV, a record player, a locked-up bar. Did she want him to join her?
More important, did he want to join her?
Roger's confusion was increased tenfold when the mirror at his side again became occupied.
It was occupied for a total of perhaps only five seconds, but those five seconds were so full to Roger that they stretched into an eternity in his mind.
Who occupied it? Ellen was in the basement, Cynthia was gone. Who was the naked creature that rushed so quickly into his view? The apparition was so unexpected that at first he really didn't know who it was.
Louise!
Louise without one stitch of clothing on her lush, seventeen-year-old, full woman's body. Louise! What a difference from that time he'd ogled her at the beach! Then her body had been partly concealed by her modest two-piece bathing suit and, he had been reduced to counting the wisps of dark pubic hair escaping from the tight leg bands of the suit. He had waited anxiously for one of the milk-white mounds of her fully matured breasts to heave completely out of the top of her suit, and he had been disappointed when it had not happened. He had not seen her undressed since she was ten so until now he had only guessed at what she would look like naked. His lustful fantasy on the beach that day, had guessed that her nipples, like her breasts would be bigger than Ellen's and darker in color; and that her pubic hair would be as dark as the hair on her head: He imagined that her buttocks of which he had only seen the dimples above her bathing suit bottoms, would be so full, the cheeks squeezing against one another so tightly, that the crevice between would be a long narrow valley of shadow, perhaps twice the length and depth of her younger sister Ellen's. The net effect of the full rounded mounds of her buttocks would be like the old classic French playing card he still had in his study, the one showing the woman standing on her knees in a chair, her arched backside presented up to the camera, negligee lifted halfway up to her shoulders, the whitely curving moons of her buttocks swelling in space so tantalizingly, so temptingly, that Roger thought if he ever saw an ass like that in the flesh instead of in a picture he would lose his mind!
And that's what he had seen just now: His daughter Louise's full, fleshy, rounded buttocks fluid as a bowl of jello as the white half-moons played against one another, a long, dark, deep cleavage between them which angled lewdly from side to side as she walked. God! God almighty! What he couldn't do with that hot young ass! He had never in his life done anything to an ass except run his hand smoothly across it, until the other day when he had allowed himself to prod with his sodomizing fingers Ellen's lean, young, barely developed one as it hung suspended invitingly above him.
But with Louise's ass there would be so much more to do -- her ass was to him the vision of lust incarnate! After only the first glimpse of the nakedly heaving mounds, his aroused penis was pressing hard and throbbing against his confining pants. Every man has his ideal, and in Louise's buttocks Roger saw his in action as his daughter came into full view and undulated away toward the basement door. What an ultimate irony that these buttocks were possessed by his own daughter, by someone he had in fact created as a product of his own lust!
Louise's pubic hair was a soft coal-black "vee" where her moving legs came together, and through it he could not glimpse her cunt as easily as he could through Ellen's sparse blonde pubic curls. What Louise had between her legs was a mystery even as he stared at her nakedly voluptuous tantalizing form, a mystery which the intense blackness of the hair heightened against the ivory whiteness of her skin.
Not even as her full firm thighs parted with her quick walk, not even as he caught sight of the dark blush receding back between her legs. What would she have? Full softly swelling cuntal lips, a glistening pink slit -- untouched, he wondered? -- a deep passage which would be fully able to nibble at the entire throbbing length of his long thick cock. Christ, what was he thinking! This was his daughter, his methodical, somewhat lethargic, older daughter Louise. Now he felt guilt, all right. But still he stared at her provocatively moving hips and wondered what her hidden cuntal flesh was actually like. He really wanted to know. The girl's smooth white belly rose in tight, perfect proportion, indeed as perfect as her entire voluptuous body was in proportion. Louise! Louise! Louise! He wanted to call out again as he had done at the beach, but this time he contained himself.
Her breasts were fully ripened -- as he had imagined them -- and the nipple buds were, as he'd thought, a darker color than Ellen's, with blushing pink areolas that swelled tantalizingly around the tips, inviting his hands and his watering mouth to a lewd caress. A pair of hugely set breasts like that was almost obscene and beyond belief.
Louise at last slipped from Roger's wide-eyed view. She had gone by very quickly, in fact tiptoeing, trying not to make any noise at all. She clearly did not want to attract his attention, wanted instead to slip by unnoticed. The basement door opened softly and then closed without a sound. Again Roger heard bare feet padding eagerly down the basement stairs.
What sort of a sexual mad house was his home turning into, he wondered. What an enticing body Louise had! My God, what was she doing down in the basement with Ellen? Both of his daughters were at it -- whatever it was.
Whatever it was.
Roger tremblingly poured himself a stiff drink, hastily downed it, and then followed the girls.
Chapter 7
He crept down the basement stairs noiselessly, step by silent step, until he stood just before the door at the bottom which led to the recreation room.
In agony he grabbed the knob, slowly twisting it, and it must have taken him a full minute, he was so careful to be sure he was unobserved. Then he pushed the door open just wide enough to afford him a view. Was he observed? He stared at the two naked girls sitting on the couch in profile to him for any sign of recognition or reaction to his presence, and there was none. The young sisters sat a few feet apart on the couch in a very business-like fashion staring straight before them, as though waiting for something to happen. But what? That's what he'd come so carefully down here to discover.
Blonde, thirteen-year-old Ellen flicked out the single table lamp at her side just as her father realized that a film had already been threaded in a projector and was running through the preliminary scratchy white frames, causing the now-dark room to flicker.
What were his two daughters up to? That was his office projector they were using, and he hadn't realized they knew how to run it. And did they have some of his films, too? Which? The one on the virtues of fire insurance, which featured billowing flames in full color? Is that what they removed their clothes for and snuck down to the basement to see? Could such a thing turn them on?
The film began.
A dark-haired girl of normal build was seen walking into a furnished room, that of a motel. The film was in color and the girl wore a purple dress. She sat on the couch and began immediately to massage her full, firmly set breasts through the material of the dress.
Ah yes, their father knew now what this was -- a stag film! He'd seen a couple -- there were ads to obtain them in all of the men's magazines. The girl would now remove her dress, give a brief glimpse of her ripe young breasts and buttocks and perhaps for a moment also her curly pubic triangle, and then the film would end. But to the girls, after all, this was probably quite something. But why were they so brazenly naked themselves? Were they going to add to the action of the film?
Already Roger began to see he was wrong. The girl had shed her dress so quickly and begun to massage her curving breasts so passionately that the film apparently was going to take a different course from the simple strip-tease he'd expected.
"Nice, isn't it?" his youngest daughter, Ellen, asked seventeen-year-old Louise, putting her arm up behind the pretty brunette on the couch, although not touching her sister.
"Yes, I suppose," Louise said. "If you like this sort of thing."
In the movie, the purple dress peeled down from the dark-haired girl's naked breasts. The girl now spread her legs quickly and indecently, revealing her cunt, and then closed her legs in order to pull the dress down the rest of the way from her young body. She had soft dark brown pubic hair, and with her dress off now she spread her legs wide apart once more and began to stroke her open vaginal slit with the extended middle fingers of each hand, one after the other, staring down at herself. The camera began to pan in towards the girl's glistening pussy until it gradually became ten times larger than life on the screen, the little pink tip of her clitoris the size of a watermelon throbbing excitedly away at the top of the girl's slit as her fingers stroked and prodded up and down the fleshy pink hair-lined lips. The girl worked faster and faster, and began to rotate her hips to force her cuntal softness into a better angle with the stroking fingers. The camera began to pan away from the close-up, showing the girl's heaving breasts and tossing hair, and then the girl suddenly stopped the lewd fingering, closed her legs, and lay quickly on the couch, stomach down.
On the couch she began gyrating wildly, forcing her round white buttocks up and down, grinding her heated pussy into the couch, as though pulling herself on and off of a nonexistent cock. She turned her head to the camera and smiled, and then spread her legs as she continued the provocative gyrating of her stomach. Now her wetly glistening cunt came into view from the rear as the camera still kept its distance. The dark hair of her cunt glinted in and out of view as she raised and lowered her thighs, squeezing her smoothly molded buttocks together. It was both tantalizing and aggravating, since because of his position, the distance of the camera and the quality of the film Roger could not get a good view, but instead saw only the flashes of dark curls appear from below the milk-white of the feverishly gyrating buttocks.
"She looks like you," Ellen said to Louise.
"Silly," Louise responded. "It's not true."
And it wasn't true, either, their spying father reflected. Louise was built much better than the girl on the screen, who turned her face once more to the camera and smiled as the camera panned slightly closer over her round, firm-fleshed buttocks. Louise was better built, but there were points of similarity in the invitingly rounded ass.
On the couch before Roger, blonde Ellen's arm had now dropped to Louise's shoulder, and the curvaceous seventeen-year-old brunette snuggled herself under it in response to its initial touch. Roger could see the two pretty girls on the couch better than he could see the girl in the film, as the action of the film progressed still more his eyes were drawn to the screen instead of to the real naked flesh before him.
"Silly," Louise said again. "You want it so often." She put her arm now also around the young blonde girl just as Ellen looked over at Louise, dropping her blue eyes for a moment to the hugely set breasts with the full pink nipples. Ellen guiltily removed her hungry eyes, and both girls once more watched the screen.
The camera had now moved to within a few scant inches of the girl's gyrating buttocks showing in perfect detail the wetly glistening cunt pausing a moment to show that the tight little cuntal ring was opening and closing, and then moving upward and pausing again to show that the tiny brown ring of her anus was also quivering and closing.
"Yours is nicer," Ellen said.
"Stop it! Don't be so dirty!" responded the older teenager.
"I'm not dirty. And you know that you like it," Ellen said. "It's just a simple fact that your body is so nice, every inch of it. I could lick you from head to toe, Louise. I really should. We've never done that, you know."
"Stop it, stop," Louise said, but she did not sound too sincere.
Their peeping father could not believe his ears. Was this his own house, and were these his own daughters sounding like practiced lesbians? What an upsetting idea! But on the other hand, if the two naked and curvaceous teenagers actually began to do something -- as it sounded as though they might -- what a good chance to look at their succulent little bodies in action!
On the flickering screen the girl stopped her wild gyrating and the camera backed off somewhat as a man entered the room and advanced toward the naked girl on the couch. The man lowered his trousers without further ado, to reveal an erect and unusually large cock. The camera caught the girl's expression ooooooooh! she mouthed. Aaaaaaaaahhh! The man advanced toward her.
She leaped up and took his long white penis into her mouth so deeply that she seemed to want to stuff it down her throat.
Wherever had Ellen gotten this filthy, corrupt film? Roger wondered. No doubt she'd found contacts to buy such things in her school. Thirteen years old and she probably already knew how to distinguish between good and second-rate pornography! On the screen this movie appeared to be first rate!
The camera panned around, trying various angles from which to continue recording the girl voraciously sucking on the man's long, thick penis. Finally, it settled on a revealing angle at a distance great enough to show not only the thick swollen hardness reaching up into the girl's distorted mouth, but also her widespread legs where her one hand which was not cupping the man's heavy balls scrambled down to her pussy and again began lewdly fingering the pouting pink lips.
"This is pretty good," Louise said as the thirteen-year-old boldly dropped her hand down to Louise's naked white breast, the smaller girl's hand like that of a doll's against the incredible softness of Louise's breast.
"It should be good, I paid ten dollars for it!" Ellen said. "It's a new film ..." she lowered her voice throatily ... "darling, and I've never seen it before now. I've no idea how it ends."
The blonde-haired Ellen paused, her hand now pressing boldly into the firm smooth flesh of her older sister's lushly formed breast, squeezing, relaxing, squeezing, gently rubbing back and forth over the sensitive nipple, relaxing. "I imagine it ends with some screwing though!"
"Ellen! You're filthy!"
Ellen laughed. "I didn't say fucking. But now I'll say it -- the film probably ends with him fucking her good. Fucking! Just like I'm going to be doing something to you!"
Ignoring the film which was progressing rapidly, she lowered her head to Louise's ripely swelling breasts, and met with her mouth the large enticing mounds her hand prodded upward. The contact with the dark pink areola seemed to make her wild -- she began licking and sucking at Louise's lewdly bouncing breasts like a cat until the entire quivering expanse of both of her nipples was wet. Louise herself seemed to neither like nor dislike what Ellen was doing to her nakedly exposed breasts, and still held herself a bit aloof from Ellen as well as from the obscene film.
The man's cock on the screen popped from the girl's widely ovalled mouth, and the girl quickly lay down on her back on the couch, with her long lithe legs spread apart. The man climbed up between her legs on his knees and, taking one knee in each hand, smoothly forced them wide apart. He took a finger and ran it up and down her moistly glistening slit, and then parted the soft pink inner lips and thrust it up into her unprotected vagina. The girl started, but by the time the man had pumped the finger in and out several times, her hips were already gyrating sensually to add to the strokes. The camera began its familiar pan inward again, seeking the optimal angle from which to reveal the tight little cunt clamping hungrily at the finger of the man who was prodding up into her with a lewd expression contorting his face.
From between the mounds of her sister's saliva-wettened breasts, Ellen murmured, her voice sounding drunk, "I'm going to eat you alive, Louise, you luscious mountain of flesh." She looked up at the other girl's face -- which was that of a martyr, not at all encouraging, obviously wanting some sort of encouragement or at least a response.
"You want that, don't you, Louise?" she pleaded.
There was a long pause and Louise said finally, "You poor hot little girl, Ellen."
Ellen's response was immediate: she took one hand and slapped, with all of her might one of Louise's nakedly exposed breasts. The smack resounded throughout the room and the pretty brunette screamed in terror and surprise at her younger sister's attack.
"Poor hot little girl, am I?" Ellen screamed and she drew back her hand again as though to strike her fearfully cringing sister again in the breasts, but she didn't. "Poor hot little bitch? Well I'll tell you a thing or two -- why did you drag your big naked elephant's carcass down here? Why? Just tell me why?" She threatened with the hand again, poising it directly over the end of Louise's helplessly exposed breast. She was raging mad, and the older girl was clearly in her power.
"To ... to come down here."
"Hah!" screamed Ellen as she drove her flattened hand against Louise's breast with all the strength she possessed in her thirteen-year-old body, brutally slamming the defenselessly naked breast against the older girl's chest. A pink welt-like ring formed around the edge of the round ruby-like areola, the tiny nipple in the center protruding painfully outward.
"To come down here, to come down here," Ellen repeated, half screaming still. "Titties hanging out bare in front of you, and you're still trying to play cold and proper! Stop it! Stop it, I say!" Ellen had her flattened hand again poised threateningly over Louise, this time over the other trembling still unslapped breast. Ellen slowly -- somewhat in control of herself again -- moved her hand forward and reflectively tweaked the small protrusion in the very middle of the dark pink areola. She grabbed it with two fingers and her thumb and pulled out on it slightly, twisting it, feeling it enlarge and pulse in her grip, manipulating it gently in a way which was more tender than punishing. Continuing this lewd playing, Ellen said now in a very quiet voice, "Louise, what did you come down here for?"
"For ... for what we're doing," admitted Louise.
"Go ahead, say it exactly," Ellen demanded in a somewhat harsher tone of voice, stretching and pulling outward on the painfully distended nipple.
"So you could do it to me," Louise said, pleading.
"Not good enough!" responded Ellen. She now released her somewhat harsh grip on the quivering milk-white breast and began to rub the swollen nipple very tenderly and soothingly, slowly, with her entire palm. "Go ahead, say it exactly," Ellen demanded once more. "I can tell your boyfriend what we've been up to here these last couple of nights, what we've discovered! Or I can tell Mommy! I can tell Daddy! Why, if he found out, first he would whip the clothes off your back and then he would do it to you himself!"
Roger started. Arbitrary as the things which Ellen said in her anger were, they had a smack of truth to them.
"Oh, all right," said Louise, at last submitting. "I came down here so we could fuck each other!"
"Right!" responded the victorious Ellen, still softly rubbing her older sister's naked breast. "And you want it, right, you want it just as much as me!"
"I want it," the older teenager said truthfully, still cringing.
"Good! Now get off this couch and onto the ground on all fours."
"Wh-wh-what?"
"You heard me! Down on all fours!"
The voluptuously naked teenager lifted herself off the couch and dropped onto the floor on her hands and knees as told, her helplessly upturned buttocks dead-center in both her sister's and father's line-of-view. What an incitingly rounded ass! Lord! It was a crime to ever cover it in clothes!
"Now crawl!" the younger blonde girl demanded. "Crawl back and forth between here and the movie screen until I say to stop: crawl back and forth, to show me how much you want it!"
The frightened and confused Louise began to crawl, her full firm breasts hanging obscenely down in front of her, the distended nipples coming near to the floor, the smooth sensuous curves of her uplifted buttocks jiggling in a wanton rhythm from the erratic crawling motion of her knees across the room. "Go on!" Ellen said, returning her view to the screen as Louise continued crawling slowly around the room.
On the screen the man had suddenly removed his finger from the girl's naked cunt and squatted down, bringing his cock hard up between her legs. The girl took one hand and gripped the erected rod of flesh just above the balls and guided it toward her anxiously waiting vagina. It teased the edges of her soft hair-lined slit, parting them slowly, and wormed around the tight elastic circle of the inner vaginal opening as the camera panned in close again, and then with agonizing slowness it teased its way up into her cuntal depths, the huge rubbery cock-head just parting the opening of the tight little hole and stopping at a mere half-an-inch of penetration.
The camera switched to the pain-contorted girl's face. "More! More!" she shouted, and though the film was silent her mouth and her hand movements made her words perfectly clear.
The rock-hard cock continued its slow burrowing penetration, and the girl, unable to bear it, arched her back impatiently up off the couch and tried to speed the process.
Still closer to Roger, Ellen arched her own back up off the couch; she had a finger stuck up into her hot hair-lined pussy mouth and was thrusting it forcefully in and out with an obscene slurping sound.
The crawling Louise was now directly in sight of Ellen's wildly gyrating cunt and she looked at the thirteen-year-old's widespread pussy, and then up at her girlish face; Ellen returned Louise's look. There was renewed communication between the young sister's now.
"Louise," Ellen said in a soft voice, still prodding her wet little hole with her spearing middle finger, "Louise, darling, it's enough now. I see that you're sorry. Come back here, please."
The voluptuous brunette crawled a few more paces on her knees, the smooth deep crevice of her buttocks waving thrillingly from side to side in Roger's view, and then she crawled up on the couch and sat next to the naked blonde girl.
On the screen the man's entire throbbing length was now sunk in up to the hilt, his balls rocking back and forth, obscenely smacking the cheeks of the woman's still upturned, arched buttocks.
Louise could see the film again now, and she gaped at what she saw, and gasped out loud. Ellen, seeing her voluptuous sister suddenly so close to her, and also the wild fucking on the screen, groaned too, a deep, throaty, animal-like groan of unquenched desire. In a single instant's time she sprang onto the floor and knelt between Louise's parted legs, her own firm young breasts bobbing up and down from the sudden motion. Louise stared at the film and continued sighing, now in a state of obvious abandoned excitement -- perhaps her inhibitions had been broken by the fight with her younger sister and the humiliation of having to crawl naked on the floor before her. Whatever the cause, she was enraptured in advance at what the other girl was going to do to her.
Ellen placed her tongue on Louise's knee and flicked it, sampling, then stuck it full out and began licking flatly upward in the direction of her older sister's vagina. Louise, seeing the impassioned man on the screen now slamming his cock in and out of the girl's naked vagina at a fevered staccato pitch -- groaned piteously in lewd anticipation of Ellen's hotly licking tongue. But Ellen worked upward very cunningly and slowly, enjoying prolonging Louise's -- and even her own -- agony. When at long last she finally would have reached Louise's pulsating cuntal mound, she abruptly dropped down to the knee of the other wide-splayed leg. "Ooooooohhh!" Louise groaned. "Ellen, please, darling Ellen, please hurry up! Oooooooooohhhh!"
But Ellen continued her slow progress, at last reaching Louise's black-haired cuntal folds and, popping her tongue back into her mouth, nuzzling her nose teasingly for a moment into Louise's soft dark pubic hair.
"Ellen! Oooooooohhh!" groaned the quivering Louise.
Their spying father did not know what to watch -- his lewdly engrossed daughters or the film.
The screen showed the thick rigid penis ramming in and out like a steam-engine, the woman's legs now locked desperately behind the man's back as the camera scrambled about for the best views, the couple apparently ignoring any instructions now and fucking for the passion of it. The man had one of the woman's smooth white breasts in each clenching hand and he held onto them tightly, red marks appearing from where his fingers ground into the soft exposed flesh. The woman tossed her head wildly, her mouth open, doubtlessly groaning just as Louise was now that her younger sister had at last pressed her tongue flatly and hard onto Louise's tiny aroused clitoris.
Roger did not know what to watch, but fortunately from his vantage point he could see it all; he had only to change the focus of his bulging eyes from the depraved fucking scene on the screen to the in-the-flesh lesbian act before him.
The quiet older sister had become a different person -- her movements were now as passionate as Ellen's as she clamped both her hands behind Ellen's head to lock the punishing tongue tighter up into her gyrating cunt. Ellen could not emerge from Louise's vaginal slit now even if she wanted to, for Louise held her head in a tight death-lock and wasn't letting go. Roger wondered how the young teenager could breathe, as tight as her face and licking tongue were pressed into Louise's hair-covered pubic mound.
The pistoning cock on the screen was moving so fast it seemed to blur as if the film could not keep up with it. Then suddenly the action slowed -- the camera shifted up to the woman's face which was twisted in passion, a genuine, half-agonized passion; and then her expression gradually, very gradually, returned to the same smile as before. The camera moved down to the lewd union below, where a deflated penis was seen sliding easily out of the passion-drenched vagina, a trail of white sperm still connecting it obscenely to the woman's cum-soaked pubic curls. The woman sank her buttocks back down on the couch and -- the man now gone from the scene entirely -- the camera panned in again for a last close-up of the widespread slightly twitching, cunt to show the trails of sperm seeping from the vaginal opening and the entire tangled wet imprint of orgasmic passion between her legs. Then the film ended. The untended projector continuing to whir but projecting only light now on the screen.
The film had worked its magic on the two naked girls who had not even bothered to look at the last half. Once they had seen the first few strokes of the man fucking into the girl's vagina their own adolescent passion had reached such a pitch that they had to create their own action themselves. Louise -- her father could simply not believe it -- was transformed now into a quivering mass of feminine lust. And thirteen-year-old Ellen was lasciviously beside herself as he had never seen her.
Louise had released her clamp on his younger daughter's head so that she could twirl her body around to get access to Ellen's tight little cunt, which she now penetrated with her eagerly thrusting tongue. Both girls groaned away, their heads searching hungrily up and down between one another's widespread legs, their hips swirling around and around in response to the obscene licking. The two young girls licked wildly between one another's legs, bobbing for a skillful thrust into the vagina or for a prodding twirl of the clitoris with the tip of the tongue, and then giving way to just covering the whole plane of the vaginal mound with their greedily licking tongues in an abandoned, eager passion. The more each girl got, the more she licked in return-. The process had reached a respectable speed now and the lewd noises resounded throughout the basement room, as did the groaning.
Their father was going crazy at this salacious spectacle, and was about to rush into the room and satisfy one of the mewling girls in the way that either would have preferred -- with his hotly yearning cock. But the scene quickly changed.
Ellen raised her face abruptly from Louise's wetly throbbing pussy and the teenager -- surprised at this -- raised her face to look at her sister.
"Louise," Ellen began through her thick, wet lips, sounding drunk. "Shall we bring in Thor?"
Thor! Bring in Thor! Holy Christ, thought Roger. This was sinking into lower and lower levels of degradation. Thor! Such a thought had never in his life even crossed his mind.
"I don't know," said the panting Louise.
"Are you afraid?" queried Ellen.
"Well ..." Louise hedged.
"He's got a cock, after all!" said Ellen.
"Yes," said Louise slowly. "And ... who ... gets it?"
"I think you should," said the young blonde. Louise gasped in horror, but Ellen drew closer to her and spoke soothingly, dropping her finger to the brunette's lustfully pulsating cuntal slit and stroking tenderly. "Look, Louise," Ellen said, looking down where her finger was stroking up between her sister's trembling legs, I'll manage the whole thing. Don't be afraid. Wouldn't it feel good, having something really in you?"
"Wellllll ..." Louise was reluctant. "Maybe ..."
That was all spunky Ellen needed. Leaving Louise sprawled nakedly on the couch in confusion, she sprang up and out the door -- Roger barely had time to hide behind some boxes -- to get Thor.
Thor was the family German shepherd!
Chapter 8
Roger hid in confusion behind the boxes as the dog went trotting eagerly into the basement room behind Ellen. He was a large German shepherd, full grown, and he bounded straight toward the curvaceously reclining brunette on the couch as though he knew what this was all about.
Louise, spread vulnerably on the couch, widened her eyes in terror and put a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. She began to close her wide-splayed legs and slide from the couch, but the dog stood at her feet and growled viciously in warning.
Thor knew what this was about, all right, thought Roger. This must have occurred before -- with Louise, with Ellen, with both ... my God! What a house this was! Even the family dog was involved in the fucking!
Louise froze in her obscene thigh-spread position in response to the unmistakably clear warning of the German shepherd. Her legs were parted nearly to right angles and her knees were drawn up to her chest, and the entire passion-wracked vaginal area was still moist from Ellen's lewd tonguing. Louise didn't dare to move as the huge dog growled menacingly over her, his great panting head just above her defenseless, upturned pussy.
Back by the partly opened door, Roger jumped as the big animal bounded onto the couch. He was already beside himself with shock, and also with lust, the testimony of which throbbed restlessly inside his straining pants -- and he would have to get control of his racing emotions. The lewd thought of this enormous dog raping his naked young daughter quaking fearfully on the couch sent shivers of revulsive curiosity through him. He watched Louise lying there shaking helplessly with fear beneath the still-snarling Thor, and he couldn't look away. There was a salaciously sadistic fascination to the spectacle -- and to what might follow. Was it possible, really, that Thor was going to fuck ...
The huge German shepherd lowered his head to the cowering teenager's soft hair-covered pubic mound and began sniffing it hungrily, his tail wagging as though he had discovered a bitch in heat. Louise moaned in terror as Thor's cold nose suddenly established moist contact with her little puckered anus. She tensed as the long red tongue snaked out and licked wetly up and down the crevice between her buttocks, the tip snaking slightly into the fleshy anal ring.
The frightened girl tried vainly to squirm away again, terrorized still more by the prospect that the dog might, not knowing the difference, fuck her in the anus -- but the dog raised his head and growled with cruel ferocity again and began to lick greedily at the narrow pink slit between her upraised thighs. He ran his tongue wetly the entire length of it, from the tight-closed little pucker of her anus, up over the softly fluted edges of her pussy and over the tiny sensation-bud atop her quivering pubic mound. The great obscene tongue spread wetly through the hair-covered swelling like a knife slicing through butter. It flicked relentlessly between Louise's full widespread legs, stopping once or twice to curl its way deep into her vainly resisting vagina. Louise jerked spasmodically as she squirmed to escape the German shepherd which lapped and sniffed at her loins, the tender licking sensations so much more obscene than those which Ellen had supplied.
Roger gasped at the change which occurred in the room despite the young girl's protests.
The frightened moans that had come from Louise's terror-contorted face began to change to soft mewls of involuntary pleasure -- pleasure that she had until now set her mind against, despite Ellen's lewd persuasions earlier, but that the long wet tongue licking at her sensually tormented young pussy was forcing her to enjoy. She raised her hands, holding them in indecision for a moment above her helplessly squirming body, and then dropped them down to grasp gently at the dog's ears.
With a deep animal sound she kicked her long legs back up over her head and pulled the dog's moist nose forward into her well-lubricated pussy slit. His giant tongue surged up through the heated moistness like an attacking lizard, ravishing her upthrust cuntal mound unrelentingly. Wild incoherent cries streamed helplessly from her lips, pleading and encouraging the huge dog salivating between her wantonly writhing buttocks. He worked like the mindless beast he was, the rutting lust of the wild animal his driving force ...
Roger started as Ellen -- who had until now stood naked and motionless in the middle of the room -- snapped at her sister to be quiet, for if she kept screaming Daddy would hear them.
Louise quieted somewhat, but still mewled and groaned as the giant animal licked around and around her heatedly quivering pussy. Ellen walked up beside the dog, her eyes locked excitedly on the lascivious plundering of Thor's tongue, but realizing also that in this position the dog -- no matter how much he might want to -- could not fuck her sister. Ellen had a bit of experience in this matter.
She grabbed the fullness of Louise's hips and the dog, understanding, lifted his head from between the girl's sleekly straining thighs as Ellen moved the moaning Louise over on her stomach. All of Louise's resistance had disappeared under the hot maddening tongue which so mercilessly lapped at her smoldering pussy. She was enslaved by the huge beast panting over her, her defenselessly quivering body now spread-eagled as she lay face-down on the couch. The dog's huge head lowered again, the thick tongue slithering up into the exposed crevice between Louise's buttocks.
Ellen stepped back -- her hands instinctively going down toward her own excited cuntal flesh as she stood nakedly in the middle of the room to watch what would soon follow.
Louise twisted her buttocks lasciviously back toward the dog, reaching around behind with her hands to spread the smooth ivory half-moons and give him full access to her waiting cunt. The tongue lashed licentiously at her for another long avid moment, and then the dog pushed his massive head down between Louise's pussy mound and the softness of the couch. Roger watched in mute disbelief as the head lifted, easily raising Louise's full-fleshed buttocks up off the couch with it. What the aroused dog wanted was plain -- and Louise obediently knelt, elevating her widespread buttocks, bending before the huge lusting animal in abject surrender. The relentlessly flicking tongue had lashed her to complete submission; that on top of the film and Ellen's obscene lesbian tonguing had reduced Louise to a pulp of incarnate desire.
She was on all fours and Thor mounted the firm roundness of her white, uplifted buttocks, his paws on her back. Only then did Roger see that the younger sister had tied some fur mitts around the dog's forefeet to prevent his claws from scratching the young girl's back. The dog's glistening scarlet penis slid dripping from its huge sheath, and then slipped and danced in Louise's hot wet cuntal crevice as the animal trembled and jerked, trying to bury the tapered point deep inside her erotically trembling body.
Moaning, Louise looked back, shifting her buttocks to try and capture the rapidly lengthening dog-cock like a bitch in heat, seeking to sheath the long scarlet organ in her voraciously yearning vagina. The sharp moist tip missed its mark and slid obscenely up to find the girl's momentarily-relaxed anus, which it attempted to enter. With a cry Louise tensed, evading the bending, up-slipping prod in fright, but the lust-incited dog returned immediately to the attack, having tasted a measure of success. Blindly, he thrust up between the thighs of his nakedly kneeling mistress, the thin animal penis sliding unsuccessfully along the desire-drenched length of Louise's pussy, rubbing against the tiny nerve-center of her clitoris. The bright scarlet of his jabbing penis was a lewd contrast with the fevered pink of Louise's passion-inflamed cunt. Both Roger and Ellen drank in the salaciously stimulating spectacle in a deep fascination as the penis spread the lips wider and rubbed between. The dog bucked madly behind the moaning older sister, attempting to skewer her on the ever-elongating taper of the large, dripping wet penis until finally, out of control, the dog began to growl again in frustration.
Ellen walked over to the two and grabbed the long, blood-engorged dog-cock in her hand and guided the slippery organ until the point entered her sister's fevered pussy slit, spreading the furrow wider with each of the dog's renewed thrusts. Ellen held the erect penis for a moment more until it was successfully in for a full half of its pulsating length, then the scheming teenager released her grip, allowing her hand to play for a moment over the hair-lined lips of her sister's widespread cunt, and then up over the smoothly upturned moons of her shaking buttocks which were now impaled by Thor's long tapering cock. Then the younger sister backed off entirely, her hand no longer touching Louise, to crouch in a forbidden passion of her own about three feet away from the bestial coupling whose lewd fucking she so hungrily drank in with her eyes.
Roger gasped in disbelief as the giant German shepherd jerked forward and buried his huge animal cock deep up the squirming Louise's pinkly grasping cunt. It slithered forward with an obscene wet rush until it was sunk moistly to the hilt, the hairy balls swinging lewdly below her wet dark pubic hair. A low moan of relief escaped from Louise's lust-contorted lips as she began to move rhythmically backwards to meet the thrusts of her panting dog. As the covered, forelegs trapped her waist, she began to undulate her young woman's body and rotate her whitely buttocks in lewd circles, abandoning herself completely to the delicious animal-fucking she was receiving from behind. Louise's face was contorted in rapture from the depraved fucking the dog was giving her. Her large, hugely set, breasts danced beneath her writhing torso, moving rhythmically in time to the hot skewering rod of the dog as it slid deep up into her from behind, a relentless red poker of glistening animal flesh burying itself warmly deep in her belly.
It was too much for Ellen, who crouched naked beside them on the floor, the forbidden copulation above her eye level. She began to groan to herself -- and then louder and more impatiently than Louise whose moans were now abandoned purrs of increasing pleasure. Ellen shifted herself around until she imitated exactly the position of the impaled Louise, with Ellen's own smoothly curving ass-cheeks arched high up into the air and the entire area of her hair-fringed furrow and the crevice of her buttocks exposed to the open air.
She too wanted a lover -- even an animal lover -- but was left now to her own devices. She ran both of her hands around her gently flaring hips to spread the cheeks of her round young buttocks far apart, and then began with one hand to feather her fingers wildly over the rounded path of her pussy, pausing to stroke the moistly separated lips, to grab and twist her throbbing clitoris, to touch around to the opening of her puckering little rectum. She shook and danced her firm white buttocks, both of her hands now abusing the seeping furrow of her cunt so quickly and avidly that Roger could see nothing but a scrambling of wet, hungry, confused fingers as his youngest daughter groaned out her dissatisfaction still louder.
By accident, Roger himself groaned.
Louise, so completely wrapped up in her own pleasure, did not notice Roger's groan; and of course the family dog did not notice as he burrowed and tunneled wildly into her feverish vagina toward the satisfaction of his animal lust.
But Ellen noticed.
Her hands froze momentarily with the fingers thrust in and around her vaginal opening and her rectum, and she stopped the gyrating and froze her hips. Slowly her head turned toward the door, which Roger had without realizing allowed to slip open far enough that Ellen could now look directly into his eyes.
She kneeled frozen, looking questioningly into her father's gaping eyes and ignoring the obscenely unnatural copulation which continued uninterrupted at her side on the couch. In this time her eyes and pretty face expressed many things, first of all fright that her father had discovered what was going on and might punish them. But since he too stood motionless, the fear gradually abated to be replaced by a suppliant look, a look pleading for the satisfaction which Ellen well knew Roger could give. Ellen began to shift her position slightly, walking a few paces on her hands and knees, until her buttocks and moistly spread pussy were directly facing Roger; she turned her head to be able to look at him and also at the strange animal union on the couch.
Roger felt almost compelled to rush into the room; he wanted to submit Ellen to exactly what that slobbering dog was now giving in such beastly, unbelievable fashion to her quivering older sister. But he did not want the older teenager to know about him and Ellen and he did not like the idea of a third party in the room observing his and Ellen's lewd activities; but this he might have overcome, if the third party had not been his voluptuous other daughter. For her to discover that he had watched the depraved dog-fucking scene and moreover that he had a secretly-established incestuous relationship with her sister would be simply too horrible, to say nothing of the danger of his older daughter telling his wife. No, as long as Louise remained in the room with Ellen, he would not allow himself to enter.
Ellen looked at him pleadingly, hurt that he was not answering her need. She allowed her light blue eyes to drop to his throbbingly erect cock straining in clear outline beneath his pants. She looked at him for a long disparaging moment, then automatically her hands leaped down again to her slippery pussy and spread it wide before his eyes; her hands obscenely finger played and danced again around her glistening vaginal slit. Ellen was nearly out of her head with lust as she wagged her buttocks around furiously to meet the probingly delicious but ineffective fingers. Why didn't her Daddy do something? She wondered over and over, not understanding his dilemma.
Roger's lust-blurred eyes were drawn away from Ellen to the more unnatural and compelling spectacle of the dog with his long, shiny scarlet penis sliding in and out of Louise's hungrily upturned loins as Louise moaned out her obscene thanks. Though Roger was seeing everything he still could not believe it and the strangeness of this perverse exhibition thrust itself anew on his mind -- his own daughter was fucking a dog! She was fucking a dog! Thor! Louise's fully ripened body squirmed frantically as she kneeled before the hunching German shepherd.
Louise had gone completely out of her mind now and was writhing and groaning lewd encouragement to the dumb beast through tightly clenched teeth. She was begging him to fuck her harder, to fuck her faster, and to spew his hot canine cum up her cunt! In her lust-drugged madness she wanted to be filled with the animal sperm and that was all that mattered. She was no longer human but a quivering mass of sweating, lust-deranged female flesh that begged to be subjugated. The young daughter reveled in the humiliation of being screwed silly by this wildly panting beast in front of Ellen whom Louise could see wagging her full firm buttocks in the identical position; Louise ground her smoothly rounded ass-cheeks with renewed force against the dog's hairy jerking body as though she were another animal, a bitch -- a female dog.
Roger watched in abject fascination, the rivulets of moisture beading obscenely in the crevice of Louise's voluptuous buttocks. They glistened in the light and tiny droplets ran slowly down the backs of her thighs, leaving a glittering trail along the deliciously tanned flesh.
Ellen ground her own buttocks back into empty space and into her crazily scrambling fingers, unsure of whether she was trying to duplicate the obscene dog-fucking, or trying just to satisfy herself, or hoping to stimulate her father who she knew could see every inch of her nakedly exposed cunt and each little abuse she inflicted on her excited young pussy. Really it was all of these reasons -- if reason could still be spoken of in Ellen's present deranged condition. She pushed her quivering buttocks back so high into the air that her knees bounced up and down off the floor, as though she wanted to ram her entire fist up into her hungrily sucking cunt. The sight of her older sister on the couch being buffeted to and fro by the German shepherd, the pinkly glistening shaft fucking into her tight grasping cunt without mercy -- it was just too much! Something had to give!
And it did.
Louise uttered a strange soulful cry -- a gasp, moan, and scream combined, and she twisted her head from side to side wildly, her long dark hair churning on the couch and her shoulders grinding down into the couch cushion. She was in the fitful beginning throes of a desperate orgasm and screwed her buttocks, greedily back against the dog's cock-shaft like a she-dog gone insane. The big German shepherd's tongue hung wetly from his mouth as he fucked the full waving buttocks of his pretty mistress from behind, saliva dripping from it onto Louis's glistening back. She screamed sharply again and rammed her ass-cheeks back against the wildly humping dog just as he jerked forward and his cock began to spew its sperm in sharp hard spurts deep up into her clinging vagina.
Ellen watched in lewd fascination and tried to imitate it all herself. She saw Louise's rounded white buttocks begin contracting uncontrollably, signaling the orgiastic upheaval deep in her quivering belly. Her sister was cumming at the same time as the dog! And Ellen was trying desperately to do the same thing.
Thick white liquid oozed wetly from Louise's tight cunt squeezing against the penis of the dog; thin trails of the white animal cum pearled down the twin ivory smooth columns of her thighs. Her ravaged buttocks glistened, displaying semen-soaked pubic hair and moist pink flesh as she pitched forward heavily on her face, unconscious. The rapidly deflating cock of the dog slipped from her mauled passageway with a startling sucking noise that echoed lewdly through the silent room. Louise was out cold and Thor stood above her wagging his tail in obvious appreciation.
As a final, crowning act of lewd depravity he dropped his beast's head to her widespread pussy and licked at the white liquid oozing from her still-quivering cunt. He gulped at it hungrily until at last there was no more and then curled up to lie down contentedly between Louise's open thighs, his giant head nuzzled gently into the soft "vee" of her ravished vagina.
The dog slept, and Louise was out cold.
But Ellen was anything but unconscious -- and anything but cold: She had walked on her hands and knees still closer to the animal copulation during the last thrusts as her own hands pulled at the lips of her hot young pussy, stretching them, and then thrust two fingers at a time cruelly up into her unsatisfied cunt. When the dog-fucking had ended she crawled nakedly away in the direction of her father, fully beside herself with desire, nearly unconscious in her own uncontrollable passion, coming ever closer and closer to the doorway -- until at last she was only a few feet away and Roger could see and hear every detail of the lewd finger-fucking of her pinkly glistening, cunt.
"Ellen," he whispered, afraid Louise might hear it. "Get them out of here. Both of them -- Louise and Thor."
"Fuck, me, darling," Ellen said loudly in her drunken abandon.
"Ssshhhhhh! Ellen! Ellen! Ssshhhhh! Listen to me! Wake Louise and the dog up, and get them out of here. And then I will fuck you, I will fuck you then!"
Ellen, half-comprehending, walked on all fours to the couch and shook Louise by the shoulders. The ravished girl moaned and shook gradually to consciousness, and Ellen helped her to a sitting -- and then to a standing -- position. Ellen held her upright and the two sisters stood for a moment in an embrace that, from Ellen's side, might have become something more. Roger could see the long thin trails of the dog's cum running in lewd trails all the way down the sides of Louise's well-formed legs as Ellen embraced her for a moment in a lasciviously tight clasp. Then, remembering, she began to guide Louise to the door. Louise after a few half-dragged, half self-propelled steps, recovered her bearing and walked unsteadily out of the room. Roger hid behind the boxes again, and as his daughter passed he could see again the trail of animal sperm trailing down her shapely thighs.
Ellen slapped Thor sharply on the back and he woke, sprang from the couch, and bounded out of the room.
Ellen stood waiting by the couch. She lay down in the sweat and cum of her sister and dog and watched her father enter the room, removing his clothing even as he walked. By the time he reached her he was naked, and his by now familiarly thick rod of flesh yearned upward toward the ceiling -- and then, as he lowered himself between Ellen's spread legs -- toward the hotly hungering opening of her cunt. Ellen knew what to expect from the last time they'd fucked, as did Roger, and the two incestuous lovers immediately began a low, throaty sort of groaning as the daughter's warmly welcoming vagina clasped tight to her father's cock which had broken it in and for which it was now shaped precisely as a finely tailored glove ...
Chapter 9
"Coming home" -- Roger turned the words over in his thoughts as he finally left the office at nine o'clock at night and drove down the long arrow-straight road, then turned onto his street. That's what he was doing, coming home, and the expression did have a certain attractive ring to it, he had always valued things connected with the home -- though he had allowed and even encouraged it all to go to pot recently.
The big dusty Rolls slowed as Roger approached his driveway; the car never made much noise, and when he coasted slowly it moved as silently as a ghost. The psychology teacher still at this minute lecturing Roger's wife Cynthia in her adult education course might have spoken of the conditioning factor of the short, twice-daily drives in the Rolls, of the quiet -- perhaps the unnatural quiet -- it offered for Roger's fears to expand all out of proportion and eat away at what remained of the fabric of his life.
Cynthia too -- if Roger had ever spoken with her -- might have pointed out that those drives were in some ways a little sterile and frightening, and that with a sensibility like Roger's the one thing he did not need more of was more quiet to let his thoughts fasten on problems, for he did not fasten effectively on his problems; and he already had an excess of quiet in his life.
The Rolls glided into the opening in the hedges which led to his garage, shut off the car and twisted in his seat to gather up some of the papers he had -- even at this hour -- brought home. He paused for a moment, wondering what to expect inside the house. Cynthia? That might be pressing his luck, she was usually gone to one fool course or another. The girls? Yes, that was reasonable to expect, at least for Ellen, for they were strict enough to insist she stay home most of the time. And what would Ellen be doing? Studying or watching TV or -- his heart dropped -- looking at that dirty film again.
He would, tomorrow, return the projector to his office; cutting off Ellen's source of the obscene films might not be possible, but cutting off the projector was. Only Roger's forgetfulness had allowed it to remain home as long as it had after he discovered its use that evening when Ellen had had the dog fuck Louise. Roger noticed the lights from the basement -- yes, his suspicions were probably right -- Ellen was probably looking at that film again, fingering herself or corrupting her older sister.
He entered the house and stood listening -- there was an exceptional silence even for his house. No noise whatever. The refrigerator clicked on -- ah, there was noise, and a clock ticking began to materialize from the silence; and, now that he really listened, there was noise coming from the basement.
Groans.
Quiet, purring, mewling groans of more than one person.
And that was not a sound projector.
Roger advanced to the basement stairway and descended stealthily, remaining outside the closed basement door. The groans were louder. He opened the door a crack.
The moment he arrived was just that when Ellen and Harold were having their climax.
Holy Jesus Christ! Naked and aroused Ellen with her buttocks humped lewdly over the arm of the couch, being speared by the lust-swollen cock of some boy much older than she was. Ah yes -- that was Harold Taylor, Louise's boy friend! And with his finger -- no, fingers -- up Ellen's narrow little anus too, both young naked bodies pumping and swirling excitedly up against each other as though fucking were going out of style. No -- he saw it, he knew what this was -- Harold's over flowing sperm flooded out around the base of his crazily orgasming cock as he heaved a final animal groan, yet the two insatiable adolescents kept pumping, and he continued absent mindedly to thrust his fingers into the blonde teenager's clutching rectum.
And that was not the whole scene -- Louise was also entirely naked and another participant, in a way, crouched on the floor within a few feet of the lewdly fucking couple. What was her part in this? her father wondered. She seemed desperately excited as she watched, her gaping eyes staring ever closer at Harold's deflating, cum-covered penis still pumping spasmodically at Ellen's nakedly uplifted buttocks. It was no wonder Louise was all worked up -- she'd been taught to like both Harold and Ellen, Roger realized, and both were now spread before her bulging eyes.
It was only then that Roger noticed the film.
And what a film!
On the screen, in full realistic color, was a voluptuously naked redhead on her hands and knees on a table, a boy's cock jammed into her distorted mouth, another boy's hands groping around her full swaying breasts, and a third boy's slippery white penis inserted deep up into her clinging vagina from behind. To say nothing of a man's middle finger stuck up into her helpless rectum, the man himself being sucked by another girl, and yet another girl presenting her youthful, quivering buttocks to the man's free hand, several fingers of which were being swallowed by her small hungry anus. Eight people! All locked lewdly together in various shocking ways!
The camera went around and around the group, concentrating on the central figure of the curvaceous redhead who was nakedly sprawled on the table.
The extent to which everyone was moving and pumping and slapping licentiously against each other was incredible. Roger had never seen such a depraved thing in his life, and never imagined it either. Ellen certainly had good films! he thought allowing himself to be captivated irresistibly for a minute, but then returned to his full consciousness of what was going on in the room, and his parental disapproval of it.
He would have run into the room right now and stopped the whole unbelievable proceeding, except two things happened in quick succession. First, the cocks in the film all discharged their hot loads of cum within the space of a minute from first to last and then withdrew, leaving the girls to continue gyrating enticingly for the camera's benefit until THE END appeared on the screen, centered over the whitely upraised buttocks of the violated redhead on the table, and the film came to an abrupt halt. Second, his daughter Louise -- who had watched the final sequence and then returned her eyes instantly to Ellen and her own traitorous boy friend Harold -- had both of her hands up between her wide-splayed tanned legs and was groaning wantonly, flailing her long shapely legs about in the air. Ellen and Harold had at long last stopped the after-play and were lying warmly in each other's arms on the couch kissing, totally absorbed in each other. Only her boy friend's cock was visible to the poor lust-crazed Louise, who was looking hungrily at it as she groaned louder and louder in helpless frustration.
She tumbled and rolled on the floor, her hands massaging up between her sleekly straining legs in an effort to satisfy her churning desire. Roger saw her stick several fingers into her cunt and thrust them rapidly up and down, and then Louise rolled over again, fingers still inserted, trying different lewd positions to satisfy herself. With the embracing couple on the couch totally wrapped up in each other and nearly unconscious to boot, Louise began to ignore them. As she rolled and squirmed about the room in her desperate passion, she came ever closer to the door. Finally she was squatting, her buttocks to the door, delicately manipulating her lust-inflamed clitoris with her outstretched middle finger as she groaned excitedly ever louder.
Roger's lust at seeing his older daughter in this nakedly aroused state overcame the shock of watching his younger daughter debased by Harold, and he lowered his jockey shorts and kicked them hurriedly away in a careless heap onto the basement stairs. He did not even bother to remove his shirt or shoes, but silently opened the door, stooped behind the crouching Louise, and put his hands on her heaving hips.
Louise was so near to sensual unconsciousness that she knew only that her frantic prayers were somehow -- mysteriously -- beginning to be answered.
She was dimly aware of the hands on her gyrating hips working their way so eagerly over her rounded buttocks to resume the lewd task she had begun on her own -- of massaging her pink, blood-inflated clitoris, of stroking heatedly in and out of the inflamed walls of her passion-drenched cunt. It was like an obscene dream. Perhaps it was all still part of the pornographic film -- the excited brunette was not sure.
Everything had faded into unreality except the hands exploring ever more lustfully around her kneeling body from behind. Now they had jumped hungrily up to cup her full firm breasts, to knead the hot trembling little nipples. It never even occurred to the naked teenager to turn and see who it was who was now placing something very warm and throbbing just at the point where the hair-lined outer lips of her pussy mound separated. Louise both knew and didn't know what it was she was feeling. If it really was a cock, then her prayers had been answered.
Roger had never before been so close to his naked seventeen-year-old daughter before. He had lusted after her maturely voluptuous body on the beach that time, when she had come to him and stooped over him in a provocative fashion, her ripely swaying breasts and her full delicious buttocks all-too-much-covered by her modest bathing suit, though he remembered the extent to which the ass-cheeks had peeked out below the tight elastic leg bands of the suit in back. Those ass-cheeks! -- and now he finally had them in his hands! Hard to believe, the way fate had thrown them unexpectedly into his possession.
He had lusted after his pretty daughter's naked body that time he had seen her and Ellen playing at being lesbians, and then he had witnessed the salacious spectacle of the dog fucking his long scarlet penis up between Louise's legs -- then he had seen her naked form, but at a distance, only at a distance. Now here it all was with the soft dark curls of her sparse pubic hair, her whitely rounded buttocks, her large melony breasts with their small erect nipples, swinging from side to side as Louise swayed her body in a rapturous response to Roger's hotly caressing hands. His brunette daughter's body was Roger's vision of sensual perfection -- and here it all was, all his, to do whatever he liked with! He guided Louise onto her elbows and knees and then touched his throbbing penis against the small elastic circle of her vagina -- supplying the maddeningly pulsating sensation for which Louise was so conscious and so grateful.
Roger glanced nervously at the couch to see if Ellen or Harold noticed what, was going on. No -- no sign of a response. The coast was clear!
He felt Louise's buttocks beginning to grind in wild anticipation of what would follow, and he used his fingers to guide his lust-swollen penis slowly forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the full, fleshy lips of Louise's cunt. She flailed her head about as she felt the soft hot contact against the sensitive fluted edges of her moist pussy, holding her breath ecstatically for what seemed an eternity, remaining in the subjugated kneeling position, not daring even to breathe for fear the pressuring cock would turn out to be a dream.
But it wasn't. "Oooooohhhh," she breathed joyfully as she felt the first harsh pressure against the tight elastic vaginal opening.
Roger pushed.
"Aaaaghhh," she coughed as the blood-swollen head slipped completely through, stretching the tight little hole until Louise felt as though her thighs were splitting apart from the relentless outward pressure. Yet it was nice very nice -- so much better than her ineffectually plunging fingers had been. Louise had not had a good piece since -- well, since the dog -- and she needed one now, just a few long deep strokes to bring her to her climax. She thrust her buttocks encouragingly back toward her unseen lover, though the action cost her pain.
Her excited father thrust his hips brutally forward in immediate response, his long thick cock sliding into her teenage cunt like a raging freight train pushing the soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls in rippling waves before it. There was no stopping the process now and, with a loud groan, his balls smacked heavily into the upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched buttocks.
"Oh God! Oh God!" she cried beneath him, her father's cock sunk deep in her young belly and filling every part of her insides. There wasn't one tiny ridge of flesh on his lust-hardened penis that she could not feel with the eagerly clasping walls of her soft fleshy cunt. "God!" Louise cried out. "Do it to me! Do it to me! More, more, more, more!"
"Like it, Louise?" her father asked softly.
"I love it! I LOVE IT!" Louise screamed at the top of her lungs.
And there was a surprised response from the couch as two pairs of ears heard the cries and two pairs of gaping eyes now sought out the incestuous couple copulating obscenely on the floor. "It's ... it's ... Louise," Ellen said, and then gasped, "with ... with ... with Daddy!"
Roger was aware of the words, aware he was observed now as he hunched over his older daughter's arched buttocks, but it no longer mattered, for his heavy sperm-filled balls had slapped up against Louise's firmly rounded ass-cheeks so hard they left a white imprint in the smooth unblemished flesh, and Roger was so absorbed by Louise's madly responsive bucking and the delicious clasp of her inner vaginal sinews that nothing in the world would have stopped him now, or even diminished his depraved pleasure.
Louise was a raw, squealing mass of desire as her father ran his hands heatedly up to the contracting lips of her hot pussy, pausing over her trembling clitoris which he fingered in a playful motion back and forth, bringing softer moans of lewd abandoned sensation from her mouth. At the same time, he could feel the ever-widening passage of her adolescent cunt flowering in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his rigid erection plunging far up inside her.
He quickened his thrusts, hot and pulsating and deep, as she thrashed her body insanely back and forth and around and around on his impaling hardness, fucking with total abandon.
Suddenly there was a different little shiver beneath him!
"I'm cumming! Oh God ...! Oh God! I'm cumming! Cumming! Ohhhhhhh! Ooooohhhh!" his daughter moaned.
He felt her spasming cunt opening and closing around him and warm torrents of wet orgasmic liquid flooding out hotly around his buried cock. He thrust faster, digging deeper and deeper up inside her. He wanted to remember this all of his life, this possession of his own daughter's voluptuous, lust-filled body, and he worked to make it true.
"Ooooooh. Oooooh God, I'm cumming! Cumming! Cumming!" Louise groaned on euphorically beneath him. "Uuuuumhhhh!"
As Roger pumped on at a greater frenzy, working on to his own heaving climax, Louise gradually stopped mewling and was silent. After a few moments she slowly -- very cautiously turned her head and looked over her shoulder for she was now fully aware the fucking was not a dream, and she wanted to know who was back there rampaging so deeply inside her still convulsing vagina.
Louise's scream filled the house.
"Daddy! DADDY!" she shrieked.
She jerked her body away from him in horror, walking quickly forward on her knees until -- despite Roger's best efforts -- his hands broke contact with her hips and his nearly erupting penis slipped out of her cunt with a wet slurping sound. Louise turned and, hand over her mouth to prevent further screaming, stared at him with terror-filled eyes as she realized she had been fucked by her own father! There was all the evidence still, Roger crouching there with his lewdly erected cock standing straight out before him and pulsating in anticipation of the obscene satisfaction it had so nearly attained!
"Daddy! How could you! How COULD you!" Louise shrieked again, standing now and retreating backwards across the room in the direction of Ellen and Harold, stepping backward in fear not at what would happen but at what already had. She reached the couch, sitting down momentarily on the arm, and her boyfriend Harold's hands caught her. She felt the contact of the man who had fucked her from behind and who had turned out to be her own father -- jerked away again. She ran to a far corner of the room, staring in horror both at her father, who still crouched where she had left him with his erected cock jerking yearningly in the direction of the ceiling, and at her sister and Harold ... who were at it again.
They had been turned on again by the salacious sight of another couple having intercourse before their watching eyes. It was so different, and so very much better, than in the pornography film! And the fact that it was Ellen's sister, and her father, doing the fucking added a forbidden quality to it that made the lewd performance even more fascinating and compelling.
What Louise saw now was her teen-age boyfriend pressing his hands over her sister's youthfully budding breasts, tweaking the young untouched-looking nipples, running down Ellen's flat taut abdomen, traveling over her parted thighs, then returning back up over her quivering breasts. Ellen was making similar explorations over Louise's boyfriend's hard, athletic body, and she saw with pleasure that his cock had jerked and stiffened again to full throbbing potency. He began to touch around her cuntal softness, which was still moist and matted from their mingled cum juices, just as it would -- soon -- happen again.
Roger, still filled with lust, stood up and considered the impossible situation he now found himself in. Ellen and Harold had seen him fucking Louise -- yet they evidently were not concerned about it, not put out by his presence, for they had begun their own lovemaking. The dark-haired boy at this minute thrusting his desire-thickened cock up into Ellen from a side position, paid no attention to her father, and neither did the pretty blonde teenager. Roger felt ridiculous standing there with his stiff cock protruding achingly out before him -- but they paid no attention to him.
Yet in the far corner his oldest daughter was still paying considerable attention to him, still regarding him with a horrified look. She would, he knew, interpret any advance toward her in the wrong way, although he would like to go to her and, without so much as touching her trembling body soothe her and try to talk away the shocking incest which no amount of talking could ever make disappear. He would like to, but he could not. He would have to stay distant from her, to let her recover by herself, to avoid damaging the ravished girl further.
Yet he was left with the problem of his painfully throbbing penis and aware of how near to a climax he still was, and of how good that brief, tantalizing fuck with Louise had been. So different from Ellen, really! Louise was so much more of a fully developed woman.
On the couch lay Ellen, on her side with one leg pointed straight as a ballet dancer's directly up toward the ceiling, while Harold was kneeling with a knee on either side of her other, prostrate leg, his thick rubbery shaft of flesh already only half invisible in the teenaged blonde's wide-spread cunt. Her eyes were shut, and the boy's gaze was fixed drunkenly on the tightly clasping pussy mound which gyrated in such practiced little circles calculated to increase his already rapid thrusts to the point where he would fuck her for all he was worth, fuck her even better than the last time. For Ellen -- running out of variations -- each time had to be better than the last. The little circular gyrations, the enticing tugs and twists of her teenage pussy were as practiced and wanton as those of the best prostitute.
Roger hovered near the brazenly copulating pair, his own lust increasing rapidly by the second to an even greater frenzy. He had to have satisfaction! Somehow, he had to have it! Perhaps -- he reflected in a moment of clarity which somehow knifed into his lust-induced fog -- he would in a few moments be able to climb onto his naked younger daughter -- the boy would not be able to go on forever.
Chapter 10
Roger didn't know how long he stood naked in the middle of the basement recreation room, his lustfully swollen penis standing out hard and hot in front of him. His attention was riveted to the lewdly fucking teenagers on the couch -- his younger daughter and his older daughter's boy friend.
Ellen and Harold were making the couch rock noisily back and forth on its legs with their abandoned love-making. The young blonde girl was groaning, teeth tightly clenched, hair tossing, eyes open but unseeing, as the adolescent pumped his long glistening hardness in and out of her swollen and agitated pussy lips. Ellen was pumping up to meet him on the in-strokes, and rocking away on the out strokes, her ankles clasped above Harold's sweating back. They were fucking so fast Roger wondered that their backs didn't break. Ellen's groans increased and became throaty and rasping and Harold joined in as the two ground feverishly on.
Suddenly a spasm went through Ellen's lower body and she pressed her trembling belly frantically tight up against Harold for one frozen instant, her entire passion-wracked body quivering and jerking and then dropped back down to the couch. At this same time the base of the boy's cock could be seen to expand and contract spasmodically as he groaned out the insane fury of his climax, gushes of white viscous semen soon leaking lewdly from her overflowing vagina around the edges of his still driving cock on the outstrokes. They kept pumping on, but slowly now, reflectively, until at the last he had no erection to pump with, and let his deflating penis slide out of Ellen's passion-flooded cunt with a wet obscene noise.
Roger glanced to the corner where his other daughter had been crouching: she was still there, but she had moved, out somewhat from the corner and toward the middle of the room. She too watched the couple on the couch in a contemplative, semi-hypnotic state, although as her father glanced at her, she turned her head and gazed back at him neutrally, no resentment or fear left. Well! Roger thought, perhaps there's still a possibility with Louise, too! She's still naked and should be getting turned on again.
No one in the room noticed the visitor.
Why, after all, should they have? No one had ever appeared at those small, rather grimy, half-forgotten basement windows up at the top of the room.
But that is just where Ellen's young adolescent boy friend, Mark Green, now peeked in. Through the haze on the windows he could not quite tell what was going on in the room, but only that there was something unusual and magnetic about the four people, the way they were dressed, and the odd bright light coming from one wall.
Mark was not by nature a prowler or a peeping Tom. He had come over to visit his girl friend Ellen; he had even hoped that he and Ellen could have intercourse again -- Ellen had broken him in -- and this thought had been foremost in his young impressionable mind when he boldly rang the bell. There had been no answer to the bell -- the present inhabitants of the cellar living in a hidden subterranean world which did not include sound -- and Mark had just started to walk away disappointed when he noticed light through an opening in the backyard hedges. He climbed over the thick, neatly trimmed hedge -- which effectively formed a fence around the yard -- and went to the basement windows. After his first look in, he was about to leave, for he thought he saw no people -- but then he realized it was hard to see the inhabitants because they were the same light color as the wall. Were they, he wondered now, sitting there ... stark naked? Jesus! Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!
Young Mark mustered up his courage and crawled in the basement window at the rear of the room, emerging with a thump -- unnoticed by the absorbed, heavily breathing foursome -- on the concrete floor behind the rolling projector. He gazed in awe at the naked people in the room and their incredibly lewd positions. The shy young teenager could hardly believe what he was seeing: Ellen's father with his thick, middle-aged cock poling throbbingly upward from his hairy loins as he watched his own daughter being fucked half to death on the couch. Ellen, little thirteen-year-old Ellen, his girl friend lewdly intertwined with an older boy Mark had never seen who with one hand was intimately tweaking Ellen's nipples while he fucked into her upthrust pussy from behind. And -- most astounding of all -- over in the far corner sat a nakedly voluptuous girl who nearly made his adolescent's eyes pop straight out from his head ... Louise! Dark, sultry, crouched-forward Louise with her long, rich, full woman's curves; her enormous firm breasts with nipples so large that his eyes were automatically drawn to them: Louise! And her shapely young legs were spread wide enough to both reveal how dark and tantalizing was her cunt-hair and to admit her hand which, with two fingers stiffly extended was nervously running up and down her tantalizing cuntal slit in long, hard-pressing strokes. Cripes almighty!
No one noticed Mark.
And across the room, Roger was being aroused to such a point that he could think of nothing else besides who he was going to fuck and how soon. His lingering lack of satisfaction with Louise, and the slow, smoldering eroticism of watching his other daughter being fucked on the couch now had built his lust to volcanic proportions: it was all too much.
Abruptly, Roger went to her and grabbed her roughly by the hips, pushing away a startled Harold Taylor. As she knelt there on her hands and knees, her long blonde hair hanging down over her forehead, on her lips she had a broad pixie smile at the thought of what her father would do next.
Roger went quickly to the point where her almost boyish young buttocks separated and spread them apart with his thumbs until the tight little anus nestled in the crevice was clearly exposed. He ran an extended middle finger quickly down to the moistness of her vagina to gather some erotic secretions, then smeared it over the puckered little anus, and began immediately to force his finger up against the tightly clenched nether ring until it popped through.
"Unnngghhh," she groaned in pain, but she was clearly pleased with her father's rough treatment.
"Spread 'em wider!" Roger commanded, in a very un-Roger-like way, leering down at his young teenage daughter.
Ellen obeyed, widening the gap between her knees on the couch until her long tapering legs were nearly at right angles to her kneeling body as though she would split. Roger probed his middle finger deep in her rectum and quickly began to work a second finger up between her quivering ass-cheeks as well.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!" Ellen moaned. "Gently, darling, gently!" Roger kept pushing until the extended fingers were buried and Ellen jumped forward from the increased pain, her mouth wincing and then opening as she panted and half-groaned, half-mewled, while the cruelly thrusting fingers worked around and around deep inside her wide-stretched rectum. Roger grinned: this was more fun than he'd expected with Ellen now squirming beneath his cruel probes in total abject surrender.
"Fuck me there!" she screamed. "There! In the ass! Now!"
Roger pulled the fingers out of Ellen's sensually writhing buttocks, the pink clasping skin clinging to them until they withdrew with a wet vacuum-like sucking noise. He was so impassioned he immediately raised his stone-hard cock up to the constricted opening.
"Put it in!" he commanded, almost with a sneer.
"What?" Ellen said. She hadn't bargained on that.
"Put it in! Now, I said!"
Ellen heaved a sigh and reached back behind her and grasped his swollen member, gently placing the huge bulbous tip against the tight hairless opening. His daughter began to probe and work it against her anus, and the tensed muscles of Roger's stomach stood out as he strained forward. It was worming its way into her and he could feel it! It looked like a giant battering ram as it tried to force its lewd entry into the portals of his daughter's quivering behind. He clenched his eyes tightly shut as the straining nether ring gave way at once before the hard pressure and the hotly throbbing head popped up inside with a sudden obscene rush.
"Ooooooooh," she groaned from the pain, but yet it was not a groan of protest.
"Shove it back," her father commanded. "Shove your little ass back onto it!"
Ellen obeyed, obviously liking his cruel abuse as well as the sodomizing act itself -- the newness of it, although it did still give her some pain. The hard fleshy rod surged deeper as she backed her round boyish buttocks down onto him.
"Ooooooooooh," she groaned. "Aaaaaaauuuuugggghh!"
The flat plane of Roger's pelvis suddenly smacked loudly against the softness of her trembling buttocks, the hard rampaging penis now buried to the balls between the twin white mounds. She was hopelessly impaled, and she liked it! Roger gasped at the lustful sensations of the voluptuous young body skewered on the end of his stiff rod of flesh, and he sawed rhythmically hard and deep into the tiny expanding passage. It was just like he'd heard once, only a ring and a nothingness beyond. Nothing except a soft clasping warmth which had a peculiar attraction and gave strange heated sucking sensations as he twisted and pumped, and as Ellen now shamelessly twisted her buttocks back and forth and around and around on her father's impaling cock.
Suddenly the forgotten third person on the couch entered the act.
"Turn her over," Harold said. Roger glanced briefly over at his older daughter's boy friend but ignored him and kept pumping, with the salacious, swooshing noises of his ass-fucking echoing through the room.
"Why don't you turn her over?!" Harold said. "Then we can both get a little!"
Ellen's eyes brightened like hot coals. Two men at once! She had never seen that in any film. Two men ... Daddy and Harold! Ooooooooooooh!
"Please, Daddy, let's turn over," Ellen pleaded.
Roger locked his hands tightly to Ellen's smooth-curving hips and rolled to the side, pulling her skewered young body backwards on top of him. His rapidly throbbing cock was still imbedded deep within her rectum as she now lay full length on her back tight against his stomach and chest. Her legs splayed out limply on the outside of his legs, a long low mewl coming from her trembling lips.
Harold didn't hesitate: he leaped over between the blonde nymphet's widespread legs, straddling Roger's knees, and pushed her quivering thighs painfully farther apart. Then he grasped his lust-hardened cock, still aching from the memories of the two previous fucks he'd given his girl friend's sister that evening, and guided it with no delay to her vagina where it burrowed in wet familiar strokes deep into the moistly flowering depths of her cunt.
"Ooooooooh," she groaned as it slipped deep inside her belly like an uncoiling snake, joining her father's pulsating member already buried to the hilt in her anguished rectum. She lay moaning and sobbing from the searing pain of the dual impalement and the forbidden pleasure at this double attention she was getting from two men. She lay sandwiched between the two of them, obscenely impaled on their giant cocks like an insect mounted on a board, with only the thin wall of flesh between her violated anal passage and cunt separating the two wildly pumping instruments.
The young man did not delay his proceedings. Already excited from watching her father's rape of her virginal anus, he began now to fuck furiously into her steaming wet pussy while Roger beneath began thrusting up with longer and harder strokes into her rectal passage. It took only a moment until they achieved a smooth natural rhythm, buffeting her between them like a sack of soft, resilient foam rubber. She emitted now a single low whine which was continuous except for an occasional grunt from deep in her chest as they fucked demoniacally into her helpless body with harder and more demanding force.
Young Mark Green watched it all mesmerized, his eyes now a scant few feet from where the two long thick cocks skewered into the wide-stretched area of Ellen's loins. Everyone knew Mark was in the room now and no one cared as he hovered over the two men and his own defenseless girl friend watching the pummeling cocks -- their full lengths gleaming moistly from Ellen's excited secretions -- jamming wetly into her, the soft pink edges of her pussy drawing back with Harold's adolescent cock on the outstroke and then disappearing back inside again as he pumped his deep, flesh-splitting path inward. The same process occurred with the pinkly clasping nether hole which Roger was screwing into with insane fury, now a person totally different from his former self, suddenly a real demon. On and on it went and Mark had to get in on it too! Aha -- Ellen's ripe young breasts were free! Yes!
Mark shed his clothes and hurried forward, his boyish hardness leading the way, until the end of his small fourteen-year-old cock was just over one of Ellen's smoothly contoured breasts. He twitched the bulbous head back and forth over her lust-hardened pink nipple, watching the soft flesh of the rest of the enticing mound quiver responsively at this action. He sawed the tightly sensitive head of his cock back and forth on the stiffening nipple, and then got a better idea!
He too climbed on the couch, straddling Ellen's head with his knees, not disturbing Roger who was lying under Ellen, and crouched low enough to Ellen's body that Harold was also not disturbed as he fucked into her from the opposite direction. Mark moved downward on Ellen's body until his small hairless testicles were dangling close into her face and the moist tip of his cock could reach the mound he now made by pressing her young breasts tightly together with his hands. He rocked back and forth, his cock sliding in and out between the firm twin mounds which swelled around his cock in a delicious sucking fashion as he pumped. Ellen reached her hand up and cradled the smooth, velvety sac of his balls as the aroused boy continued his desperate lust-incited attempt to get into the act.
Three men on her! Ellen was amazed. Wow! This had never happened before, and she would never, never forget it. "Ooooooooh," she mewled, "more, more, fuck more, fuck harder! Ooooooooooooh," she went on and on, in mounting ecstasy.
Her hips moved backwards to meet the upthrust of her father plunging hotly into her tender rectum, and then forward again to swallow all of her sister's boyfriend's plummeting cock into her steaming-hot pussy. Her whole body undulated between the two men and her roundly straining buttocks moved in tiny lascivious circles. Her own boy friend Mark, kneeling over her chest, was jerking back and forth in the wide cleavage of her breasts as quickly as possible while Ellen played with the youthful balls that grazed her face.
The three men passionately abusing Ellen was a sight just too much for her seventeen-year-old sister. Shocked as she had been by finding her own father with his long hard cock buried deep up into her pussy -- and at the horrible fact that she'd unconsciously enjoyed it -- she was now so aroused that her only question was which of the plundering males to pull off Ellen and stuff into herself.
Louise lurched toward the couch, considering the possibilities. Roger was working very hard with his unnatural union below, his long, blood-engorged cock skewering rapturously up Ellen's rectum as he made his deep powerful strokes, with an expression on his face of extreme effort tempered by incredible surges of lust. No chance of disengaging him. Harold, though -- he was the one Roger's older daughter should have. After all, he was her boy friend! She grabbed him by his hips and pulled with all her girlish might -- Harold as a result nearly lost his balance, gasped and fell backwards until his cock broke contact with Ellen's moist working cunt and slid lewdly into the cool open air. He turned angrily at Louise who was still tugging at his hips, and, forcing her hands violently away, he rushed forward again in haste to reunite his cock with Ellen's lewdly gyrating pussy which sucked gratefully upward to meet it.
Louise was left with only one choice: the last, least promising choice, but still an avenue to the salacious satisfaction which she now felt she needed more than life itself. The older brunette sneaked up on young Mark Green from behind and placed her hands eagerly on his hips: in one motion she pulled him entirely off from the couch, and into her own embracing arms. She was much bigger than Mark, but Mark realized this voluptuous older girl wanted him and at once began to feel hungrily around her naked body with his hands.
Knowing exactly what she wanted, Louise got up on all fours and presented her naked buttocks up to Mark who sat for a moment gaping in disbelief at this full woman's cunt, breasts and ass-cheeks presented so completely and wantonly to him. But Louise, impatient, said, "Mark, please, fuck me in the ass!" And she said it extra loud so that the traitorous Harold would hear. She liked the idea of her boy friend -- or former boy friend -- seeing her being obscenely sodomized as she would squirm in wild delight before his jealous eyes.
"In the ass, Mark," she repeated as she now felt the boy's warm, spongy cock-head centered over her virginal rectal entrance. The boy pushed forward but too lightly, so she reached back and with mutual effort his cock shaft was before long sunk deep inside her warm rubbery rectum as she tried frantically to keep from screaming from the unanticipated pain. Eventually, she could tolerate it, even like it, well enough to mewl out -- partly for Harold's benefit -- "Oooooooooooooooh. Oh Mark, it's good, your cock is good. Ooooooooooooooh. Mark, fuck me deeper, Mark; fuck me faster, faster ..."
Harold was listening and looked up at once to watch, causing a tremor of pain to run through him which made him in turn fuck even faster into his girl friend's sister. Ellen responded by twisting her hips up to him still more wantonly, and her father fucking into her anal passage from his long, half-painful thrusts at a speed which seemed that it would break that little pinkly sucking anus. The couch rocked on its legs and the room was full of fantastically humping half-human creatures.
"Oooooh, fuck it, fuck it, on, on!" gasped Louise as Mark pressed tight against her soft white buttocks and rotated the bulbously pounding head of his cock around and around deep inside her gripping anal passage. Her moaning was adding to Mark's pleasure and his hands crawled over her full smooth buttocks and back, kneading the flesh like fresh dough, leaving bright red welts from where his fingers dug into her tender milk-white skin. He pulled her quivering ass-cheeks wide apart to drive his pelvis now fully into her yielding buttocks with hard flat smacks that resounded obscenely through the basement room. His breath came in short gasps like a runner, his eyes locked down on the white, generous fullness of Louise's voluptuous body that slipped over his plunging cock like a tight-fitting glove. She waved her buttocks salaciously back against his eagerly quickening thrusts, just as Ellen was flailing her curvaceous young body back and forth between the two wildly thrusting men.
Ellen wanted them both to split her open with their cocks and drown her in the gushing loveliness of their mutual sperm. She hoped it would come soon for she felt her own lustful sensations almost increased to the point of climax, but she was holding them back. There was no pain anymore, only the lewd feeling of being filled as she had never been in her life. At the same time she craned her head and saw Louise with her round full buttocks arched high up into the air as Mark's wetly glistening penis impaled her.
For one instant Harold wanted to cry out, to stop the younger teenager sodomizing his girl friend, to stop Louise's abandoned and obscene churning of her ass while she massaged her own jiggling breasts with one hand and supported her weight with the other. He wanted to cry out but he didn't; instead, he watched hypnotically as the frantic tempo increased by the second, increased to a fever pitch matching his own as he felt the pressure begin to swirl and build deep down in his sperm-bloated balls. Ellen sensed the pressure mounting too, for her young vaginal muscles were becoming a virtual suction hose of spasmodic pressure as she clasped and twisted herself ever more desperately around the older boy's generously large staff of flesh.
Roger was consumed by his daughter's pliant young buttocks pressed against his pounding loins, by the entire warm weight of her young body resting on top of him, and by her passionate girlish groans. A deep, half-human moan erupted on its own from his throat and he clenched his hands tight on the fullness of her breasts, holding her down to him with all his might until no tiny bit of his exploding cock, not even at the base, was outside of her rectum. He quivered and jerked, bouncing the impaled girl above him, his hot incestuous sperm pulsing the length of his penis and spewing deep up inside Ellen's body shooting far up in her little white belly.
His daughter felt the climax deep in her ravaged anal passage, and it caused a gush of lust juices to flow from her cunt around Harold's hard fleshy rod. She was cumming too, and she groaned out her release as she jerked her hips quiveringly back and forth to savor the last, most sensitive pulls at Harold's blood-swollen penis, and then she tossed her head wildly about and groaned in painful ecstasy as though she were dying. She felt it all inside her -- Harold's still hotly rampaging cock and her father's now deflating penis up in her rectum and his hot wet cum up there still deeper.
Harold felt Ellen's cum juices flowing wetly around him and that gave his powerful thrusts just the added bit of sensitivity he needed. The older teenager clenched his eyes tightly shut and felt his constricting testicles begin to wildly erupt, his hot sperm spurting like a firehose through the end of his driving cock and squirting far up into Ellen's palpitating vagina. Despite the excitement of the moment, the obscene thought of fucking his sperm into his girl friend's younger sister while her own father sodomized her from behind sent chills of revulsion creeping through him. For a moment he considered Ellen a whore whom he hated, and he jammed his cock as deep as it would go to spew out the last spurts of its lewd obscene load, he ground his pelvis around and dug the hard end deeper drubbling the walls of her cunt without letup.
Then he relaxed.
A few feet away Louise and Mark were pumping at an insane staccato pitch. Louise swirling her rectal passage around the around Mark's youthfully stiffened penis and groaning loudly enough to be heard outdoors. Suddenly Mark put his hands on his hips and leaned back, to get his pelvis smacked up fully against Louise's buttocks which she was spreading apart with her hands. Mark jerked and writhed as Louise suddenly gasped feeling her rectum fill with his young load of hot sticky cum and as this deliciously increased warmth brought her long-delayed climax shivering electrically at last through all her highly strung young body. Louise purred softly like a cat as Mark's hips continued their orgasmic jerking, the white thick sperm now leaking out the tight red circle of her anus and pouring down over his satiated cock. At last she collapsed like a rag doll on the floor and Mark pulled his spent penis out and lay down some feet away from her. Everyone was disconnected now with the single exception of Roger, who still kept his shrunken cock buried motionless deep up inside his thirteen-year-old daughter's rectum.
Roger was nearly unconscious and the evening's activities had merged in his head into a wild tangled combination of thighs, buttocks, breasts, and cunts, and of the film flicking away at the end of the room egging them on. It was one deliriously swirling, unreal mass, one discordant symphony, and on the directing podium -- round, young buttocks to him as they still were now -- was the able mastermind of every bit of it, the driving genius: his hot little daughter Ellen.
Chapter 11
Early autumn drifted onto Cape Cod like an ocean mist.
With autumn the appearance of things did not much change, apart from a slight muting of colors; the weather varied only by a damp chilly overtone to the breezes -- the breezes themselves hinting the same forces which produced them would soon bring the storms. It was a time that said "Go indoors," though there was still no need; it was a time when a living room was a pleasant place, and a fire welcomed to take away the chill.
Accordingly, the Johnston family was indoors.
Roger sat contentedly next to Cynthia on the sofa, and, if one looked closely, one might even see him holding Cynthia's hand which lay on the couch between them like a couple in courtship. The two people looked at the crackling, blazing fire before them. They did not read, nor did they stare at the TN.; all they needed at this moment for enjoyment was the snapping fire and each other.
Roger got up and poked at the fire: he liked to make fires again, he liked to tend them. This was just as symbolic of his new life as was the smoothness between him and Cynthia.
Across the room -- sitting on the piano bench with her knees drawn up and her arms locked around them -- was little Ellen, absorbed in the book of Bertrand Russell which nestled between her knees. Ellen looked a bit quieter these days -- she still dressed in tight shortish clothes, and she still had a certain springiness about her; yet she did not seem the imp she had been. She could find contentment now in things besides the very unusual. In short, she'd settled down -- even matured.
The final member of the family had never really changed very much in appearance. Louise always looked like Louise -- trustworthy, lethargic, attractive -- even when she had been traipsing off to the evening orgies. But this was not the case anymore, and the reality now fitted the appearance. The thing that most charmed Cynthia was that Louise again occupied the room again, in the corner designed for her, with her desk and chair and the comfortable old plush reading chair next to it. She sat now in that chair doing some sewing -- in fact, it was needlepoint. Cynthia had just taught her how to do it, both women charmed by finding some new base of contact. They just liked being around each other; part of the glow which could these days be seen in Cynthia's face was caused by the new respect between her and her daughters.
Roger Johnston no longer had his business papers scattered about the room for easy diversion from his family. He needed -- and wanted -- no diversion. The papers stayed in his office -- to be honest there were also a few in his study -- where they belonged. Since things were going so well at home it seemed they'd correspondingly perked-up at work. The lawsuits were still there, but they would, by God, have a tiger to reckon with -- Roger Johnston.
Roger sat next to Cynthia musing on his newfound happiness. The incest was a thing of the past, already seeming decades away, though the final orgy had taken place only a few weeks ago. Just to prove to himself how distant he now was from that past, and how totally severed the incestuous connections with his daughters were, he now returned in his mind to that final evening, and how suddenly it had ended.
He had been on the couch, that night, Ellen on top of him, still joined to him by his deflated penis stuck up her rectum; beside them was Louise's boy friend Harold, who had just withdrawn from Ellen's debauched vagina. On the floor lay Louise on her stomach, collapsed, half-unconscious, from the sodomy she had just received, with young Mark Green sitting some feet away contemplating the obscene thing he had just done, indeed the lewdness of everyone in the room, including him.
It was a sort of natural pause, this moment after everyone had had his climax. Yet Roger still felt a twitching in his loins, as did Ellen. And the unshown erotic films were still stacked up by the projector. Things would have begun again, and quite soon. Would have.
In the silence of this lull, a noise was heard that caused everyone -- even the prostrate Louise -- to perk up in terror. They heard Cynthia pulling in the driveway. They all knew that soon she would be in the house and she would expect to find it inhabited. And she would -- the naked daughters sprawled out in the basement after being debauched by the three naked men nearby ... one of whom was ... their father ...
The thought of this discovery was too horrible!
In utter terror, hoping against hope, everyone sprang up and scrambling around the room finding their clothes, pulled them on, in some cases skipping the underwear and stuffing it in pockets to save time. Roger shouted out quick directions -- "Louise and Harold, you stay in the basement. We've got to split up and make everything look reasonable." The couple went to the couch and sat next to each other, opening up a copy of Time -- upside down in their haste -- which they held between them. From the look of the room nothing had happened -- even the stains on the floor had been ground into disappearance by shoes.
Hearing Cynthia close the car door as the others climbed the stairs out of the basement, Roger thought it was all over. They could never make it to the living room in time. Yet he still hoped. They just disappeared into the living room as Cynthia opened the door to the house. Roger flicked on the T.V. and it warmed up a fraction of a second before Cynthia walked in the room.
What she saw was Roger sitting in his chair with his papers nearby, glancing absent-mindedly at the T.V. And on the couch, next to each other like shy boy friend and girl friend -- quite cute, really -- sat Mark and Ellen, coyly holding hands and staring at the T.V. Most important, she saw all eyes turn to her filled with interest and everyone smiled and said hello. Indeed, it was quite a welcome; she never even suspected its causes.
So the secret of the incest was safe.
Moreover, it did not, and would never, recur. The near-discovery had so frightened all the participants that it had all ended in one fell swoop, forever. Even the kingpin -- Ellen -- had been so profoundly shocked that she mended her ways.
Cynthia had come home from a psychology class she had been taking in the evenings quite stimulated intellectually by the teacher. And the welcome she found made her believe her own cheerful state of mind was the cause. Through the ensuing class sessions, the teacher touched on this very theme. The course was still far from done, but one solution to the world's problems which was emerging was to begin with the situation and group where you found yourself and try to improve that. The welcome Cynthia had found she thought she caused; and in the ensuing weeks, she did cause it -- she became so cheerful and so confident that she could do something with the people nearest her to build a more meaningful life, that she did.
Roger did not know that Cynthia had found some theoretical base for improving her family life; that she had come home that fateful evening with an unparalleled optimism. All he knew was that he had been so shocked at the possibility of discovery that not only didn't he want the incest to recur, but he wanted to begin a better marriage with Cynthia and to be a good father once more to his daughters.
The family dog, Thor, now walked into the room and curled at Roger and Cynthia's feet, warming himself by the fire. No one even paused to think of the role he, too, had once played in the former sexual excesses.
But -- importantly -- sex was now by no means absent from the Johnston house. One wouldn't guess that sex lived so fully there by the staid outside appearance -- the dark, evenly trimmed rows of hedges, the old trees, the solid stone house itself, the dusty Rolls Royce which could sometimes be seen to glide in and out of the garage. And inside the house, too, one saw wealth and a solid, non-ostentatious kind of contentment, but nothing to hint really at passion. Yet it was there. It was not present in the domestic contentment of the moment in the living room. But it was there.
It was up in the newly installed king-sized bed in Roger and Cynthia's bedroom.
When the lights went out at night, one might hear the lock turn on the bedroom door, and one might soon hear the ensuing groans, mewls, moans which issued from the bed. For Roger was now applying all of the sexual knowledge he had gained from his daughter, he was applying it -- all of it -- to his wife. Oral sex was now commonplace -- often as soon as Roger got his pants off Cynthia pounced on his cock; the intercourse itself was prolonged, varied, and good; and even sodomy occurred regularly. Roger was applying all that he'd learned from Ellen to Cynthia, who had -- before -- seldom groaned, mewled, or went into an ecstasy over his approaches. But now she did, all right. She had become just as sexually responsive as Ellen had been; Roger had brought out all of her latent sensuality, and now he had the joy of reaping the harvests for their mutual good.
Down in the living room, Roger poured Cynthia and himself a glass of cognac. They clinked the glasses together, and then downed the contents. He didn't drink anymore, beyond this nightcap he shared every evening with his wife. The daughters had now already gone to bed, and the fire had turned to embers. The autumn wind whipped at the windows. The couple put down the empty glasses.
Roger led Cynthia by the hand up to the bedroom. They closed the door silently behind them, twisted the lock, and smiled: now they were alone. Immediately, they fell still dressed on the bed, beginning another slow and luxurious night of sensuality.
