The psychiatrist was enveloped in leather. The moroccan red cowhide was like a giant cocoon and he, the black-suited larvae peering from the blood-red womb, a small man. Small and precise. And very European. His steel-gray eyes narrowed behind the veil of smoke that permanently encircled his abundant cap of matte brown hair, an obvious capitulation to vanity, for it was quite plain from the creases in his brow and the droop of flesh under his eyes that he was a man well past youth - about twenty-five years past youth. Denise judged him to be in his mid-fifties, the dyed brown hair notwithstanding. His hands were small and neat, the nails filed to a point, which bothered the comely blonde patient. How she loathed Dr. Berger's clawlike hands! Yet, vulnerable to perverse fascination as much as anyone, she couldn't keep her eyes from following, almost hypnotically, every manual exercise the good doctor performed. Usually, it was drawing the ever-present French cigarette to his narrow, crimson lips, a gesture that was tinged with obscenity, in her view. Those lips, so red against the carefully manicured beard and goatee of shoe polish brown, looked like the glistening lips of a woman's vagina turned horizontal, smoke curling around the dark, moist orifice beyond!
It made her all the more nervous as she sat there, back stiff, hands nervously fingering the patent leather handle of her purse, feet flat on the floor, trying to plan her next remarks. She was composing her "confession" carefully, wanting desperately for Dr. Berger to not misunderstand. After all, she wasn't neurotic, or sick like those other patients. Indeed, she considered herself a mature, well-adjusted woman and because she was that, she saw the wisdom in seeking a professional's counsel about "her little problem."
After several moments of uneasy silence, Dr. Berger began the session.
"You told me last week that you were going to have a party for your husband, Mrs. Yarbrough ..."
"A party?" The wide blue eyes blinked rapidly, as though to clear the computer in her brain for new programming. She smiled fixedly at the sheepskin hanging from the wall to the right of the matte brown head. Her eyes flicked, like the aperture of a camera, to the doctor's face then blinked away again. "Oh yes, the birthday party. It was a great success. Peter was so surprised. Everyone had a marvelous time ..."
"And you had a marvelous time?"
"Uh ... oh yes. Peter was really pleased. Of course, he did drink a bit too much, as usual ... so did I, for that matter, but after all, it ..."
"And did that affect his performance later, all that drinking?"
Denise's mouth went dry. She knew she would have to tell him. She would have to, much as she hated revealing her most intimate secrets to another human being. But then, Dr. Berger was not another human being. He was a psychiatrist. And she was paying him fifty dollars for fifty minutes of his professional time. At a dollar a minute, she could not afford to indulge in issue-avoiding pleasantries. And Dr. Berger would not allow her to. He did not believe in prolonged analysis, in stringing a patient along for months or years, as some of his colleagues were known to do. At the outside he allowed twelve weeks for functional recovery. At that time, a patient was either able to live with his anxiety neurosis or he was referred to another colleague, or a clinic for long-term analysis. Psychotic patients were sent elsewhere after the intake interview. His methods were the subject of both praise and condemnation among his peers, which pleased him greatly. He considered most of them consummate charlatans and knew he was ahead of his time. One day hypnosis would be practiced as routinely as the stethescopic sounding or the dispensation of prescriptions.
It was because of hypnosis, and Dr. Berger's insistence upon short-term therapy that Denise Yarbrough had finally made her first appointment with him. Today marked her second, and she feared she would never be able to divulge the agonizing details of the awful scene in the bedroom last night ...
"Did you give him a present, Mrs. Yarbrough?" Berger asked, stressing "prrrezzent" with a Teutonic growl.
"He said he had another kind of present in mind ..." she said softly, her blonde hair falling forward as she bent her head in embarrassment.
"And ...?"
"It was a fluke," she stated flatly.
Dr. Berger's brow wrinkled in skepticism. "A fluke? You are saying that you made love with your husband and you call it a fluke? You baffle me, Madame," he said, accenting the dame, "Please explain."
A flush of coral tinted the lovely firm cheeks of the embarrassed young wife. She heaved an audible and resigned sigh. "It's so difficult to talk about, Dr. Berger," she sighed again.
"Yes, of course. And particularly when you are sitting on the edge of the couch as tense as a witness under hostile interrogation. I do not wish to interrogate you, Mrs. Yarbrough. You have come to me for professional assistance, and that is what I am qualified to give you. But you must cooperate to the extent that you are willing to allow yourself to relax. Without your cooperation, I am powerless to do anything but sit here for fifty minutes and take your money. And that, I am not willing to do!"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Berger. You're right, of course. I'll try," she said, heaving another sigh. Her hands clutched the handbag tightly. Her knees were pressed together as she scooted back six inches on the couch.
"Put the handbag down, please. Kick off your shoes and lie down on the couch, Mrs. Yarbrough." He was getting up, moving to the window, adjusting the blinds to occlude the thin horizontal slices of light that striped the thick wool carpet. He drew the draperies together on their traverse rod before he stepped in front of his desk and flicked on an oscillating light whose pinwheeling gyrations patterned a twelve-inch portion of the beige ceiling. The psychiatrist leaned against the broad walnut desk and crossed his arms on his chest, the ever-present French cigarette between the second and third fingers of his left hand, European style. "Don't think about anything now except how wonderful it feels to lie down, to stretch out on the nice, comfortable couch and relax ..."
Denise knew that he was going to hypnotize her, and though she felt apprehensive, she really wanted the responsibility of a totally conscious "confession" removed from her. The shame, the guilt, the embarrassment ... all those would be obliterated in the comforting shadows of the subconscious ... perhaps ... she wasn't sure ... she had never been hypnotized before, but she had done a lot of reading on the subject before deciding to see Dr. Berger. And he had disclosed his intention to use the tool of hypnosis, if necessary, during the course of his psychiatric therapy. Now it was beginning ...
"Just relax completely, Mrs. Yarbrough, ' he told her, his voice mellowing like vintage cognac, "and look at the beautiful wheel of light above you. It is captivating, isn't it? Something about that endlessly revolving wheel of light that makes you want to watch and watch, not thinking about anything else, only the light, the beautiful soft colors revolving on the ceiling above you ... so relaxing, so very relaxing. You feel like just lying there, perfectly relaxed, perfectly at peace with yourself, just watching the spinning light. You feel so relaxed that you can't move. Your arms are heavy as lead. Your legs and feet are like lead, sinking deeper and deeper into the soft, comforting caressing leather couch, which is like a soft deep cloud, a cloud that is beginning to float, despite your weight, despite your heaviness, the weight of your arms and legs, your head. And as you float on the buoyant cloud you feel even more relaxed, so deeply relaxed that the light seems to spin faster and faster, it grows brighter and brighter. So fast is it spinning, and so bright are the colored circles of light, that you feel you must close your eyes now, to relax even deeper into the soft, caressing cloud beneath you. You must close your eyes, but even with them closed you can still see the wheel of light. Even now, with your eyes closed, the light whirls madly around and around ... around and around and around ..."
The young woman lay as still as a stone, her breathing was deep and rhythmical. She was not unconscious, not asleep. She was in an intermediate stage of controlled relaxation. One part of her brain was fully cognizant of everything that was being said by Dr. Berger and why. But the anxiety that earlier had inhibited her response, was gone. The psychiatrist gave her a few more deep-relaxation suggestions, then began to talk to her.
"Mrs. Yarbrough, you told me you have been married for two years, is that correct?"
"Yes, Dr. Berger. It was two years in April," the hypnotized patient answered.
"I want you to think back now to your wedding day, to that day in April, 1974. What day was it again?"
"April 20th, a Saturday," she answered dreamily.
"Good. It is that very special Saturday, the 20th of April. Your wedding day. Are you nervous, Denise?"
"Oh, I'm scared to death! After all, I waited a long time for this day. I really never thought I'd get married at this late day in life!" She answered excitedly.
"Now you're not that old, Denise! No more than twenty-five or six ..."
"Thank you, but I'll be thirty-one in September! My new stepson is 17! 1 don't know whether he'll approve of me or not. He lives with his mother in Costa Mesa, you know. But he's coming up for the wedding. He's going to be Peter's Best Man! Oh ..."
There was some anxiety in the patient's voice. Dr. Berger quickly inquired about the discomfort.
"What's the matter, Denise?"
"This zipper. It's stuck. Help me please, Angela. It's almost time for the ceremony!"
"Yes, yes. There. It's all fixed now, Denise, and you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Peter is a very lucky man..."
"I hope he still feels that way. after tonight ..."
"Why shouldn't he, Denise? You are beautiful, desirable woman with a beautiful woman's body. And he loves you very much, doesn't he?" Dr. Berger continued, leading his patient to further revelation.
"Yes, but ... maybe he won't like me ... in bed. He knows I'm a virgin and ... what if I fail him somehow?" (There was great anxiety in the patient's voice. Dr. Berger debated whether to let her remain in trauma. He decided not to press her further at that moment.)
"Relax, Denise. Sleep ... sleep Denise," he said, his voice an unguent balm to the female subject on the couch. "The wedding is over now. The wedding night is over ... it is over. Time is passing, passing. Two years have passed and it is Peter's birthday. How old is he today?"
"He's forty-two, but he doesn't look it. Even though he drinks so much ..." she volunteered.
"He can't drink that much, surely" the psychiatrist probed.
"He can, and does. That's why I dread the party. I know Peter will get drunk, and I'll have to get drunk, and I don't want to."
"But why do you have to get drunk, Denise?" the doctor asked cagily.
"He says it makes me sexier, and I guess he's right."
"You mean you don't feel sexy when you haven't been drinking?"
"Not sexy enough for Peter, I guess," she answered with a sigh. "Actually, I think about it a lot. If he hadn't been drunk the night we got married ... if that first night had been different, everything would have been different ... and Peter wouldn't be playing around with girls who are barely older than his son. He always was a ladies' man. I knew that when I married him. Maybe that's why his first wife divorced him, though that wasn't what he told me. He told me she was a frigid bitch. And I guess I must seem like one, too. But he was brutal ... that first night. I had all these romantic notions about knights on white chargers. I lived in a fantasy world of books and music, of poetry and daydreams ... There was something so earthy about Peter, so male. He was different from the other men I'd dated; so masculine, so solid. And he had a glamourous life, I thought ... being a writer, and a travel writer, going off on jaunts around the world all the time. I was with a travel agency. Naturally, I took the job because of the travel benefits. I met Peter at a cocktail party hosted by Japan Air Lines - there are always dos of one sort or another for travel agents. Peter gets invited to all of them. I left my job just two months short of getting airline passes; it takes a year. But as Peter's wife, I expected to go on lots of trips with him ..."
"And it hasn't worked out that way?" Dr. Berger interrupted.
"No. Not much. He doesn't want to be stuck with a frigid wife on foreign turf. It cramps his style ..."
"But after the birthday party you were not frigid, were you?" Dr. Berger asked the question between puffs of another harsh Gaulois.
"No. I surprised myself. And I sure surprised Peter Yarbrough, The Flying Stud of The Oakland Trib!" She let out a soft flutter of laughter. Dr. Berger's thin, russet-red lips curled in a controlled smile. "What happened after the party, in the bedroom?"
"I was high, and I knew it. I drank so much champagne, so fast. It was like a delayed replay of our wedding night, and I had the same anxiety. But I was determined to give of Peter the present he kept hinting for. I knew he had to be high, too. But he didn't seem like it.
"I started to feel horny - oh, there have been many times when I felt as though I would combust spontaneously from sheer desire. The fluttering in the belly, the wetness between the legs, the overpowering urge to squeeze my legs together whenever I sat down ... That night the gnawing, prodding sensations were even stronger. It had to be the champagne..."
"Why do you feel it had to be the champagne, Denise?" Berger cut in again.
"Because he turned me off that first night," she answered with a tone of exasperation in her voice.
"What did he do that turned you off, Denise. You can feel perfectly at ease with me. You can tell me everything," the shrink said, his voice dripping with liquid honey. Let's go back to your wedding night, there in the room where your bridegroom is waiting. He is impatient, isn't he?"
"Oh God, yes!" she answered, her brow knotting in the center.
"Because you are spending too much time in the bathroom, perhaps?" the canny psychiatrist offered. "Hey, hurry up in there! I've been waiting a long time for this night, Mrs. Yarbrough!" he added unexpectedly, changing his tone of voice. The reclining figure on the couch started a bit at the sound of her "bridegroom's voice." Deep in her subconscious, she was reliving her wedding night, the memory of all that transpired a vivid color film reshown on the screen of her brain ...
* * *
She watched her reflection in the mirror as she began to remove her clothes, lifting the dress over her head carefully to avoid mussing her hair. With quick nervous movements, she pulled off everything but her bra and panties, then paused to stare at her reflected image. Her pale ivory skin was flushed from the high sharp cheekbones to the delicately tapered chin. Her dark-fringed blue eyes shone like opals. Miniscule beads of perspiration dotted the curvature of flesh above her soft, full upper lip as she reached behind her back to unfasten the hooks of her lacy bra.
Her full, round breasts virtually burst from the constricting undergarment, the pink nipples at the tips like the infant buds of a rosebush. She cupped the firm mounds of upthrust flesh in her hands. The contact of her fingers made the pink nipples grow harder until the petal pink aureoles around them crinkled with desire. Moving her hands slowly down and across the flat, smooth plane of her belly, she pushed her thumbs under the elastic band of her blue silk panties, slowly working the filmy bikini over her smoothly rounded hips and past the furry mound of her virginal vagina. Her heart was beating faster as she anticipated what was to befall that secret orifice, which had never known the feel of a man's stiffened penis - only his fingers. She blushed harder with embarrassment and pulled the panties back over her ripe buttocks, knowing that she could never walk out of the bathroom totally naked. Then she reached for the new blue peignoir, slipped it over her shoulders and unlocked the bathroom door.
She gasped as she saw her bridegroom lying stark naked on the big four poster bed, a halt=empty glass of champagne in one hand, his hardening penis in the other. She smiled bravely, hoping for his approval, trying not to look down between his legs.
Peter only stared back at her with heavy-lidded eyes, taking in every inch of her exquisite body with lusting, repacious interest.
Suddenly he threw down his glass and bolted across the room at her like a rampaging steer. She gasped aloud. He was upon her in a flash, his nude body practically colliding into her thinly veiled nakedness, his powerful arms encircling her body like the tentacles of a giant octopus.
"Peter! Don't!," she cried out, but his mouth was already seeking her soft, yielding mouth, drawing her lips apart with a kiss that seemed to consume her whole body. His tongue drove into the warmth of her oral cavity like an adder, filling her taste buds with the sour and pungent propwash of champagne and tobacco. The kiss was hard and rough, but not as hard as the shaft of flesh that pressed insistently into her loins, wetting her skin with the copious sticky ooze that seeped from the tip of the blood-engorged head. The fiery witness of his manhood pressed into her body with a heat she never imagined possible. She was terrified. How could she ever accommodate such a rigid pole of fiery flesh into her unstretched, virginal pussy?
She had not long to ponder the question. Peter lifted her boldly into his arms and staggered with her over to the big bed and dropped her. He fell on top of her then, clawing at the filmy new peignoir in an effort to rip the intruding garment from between them.
"Peter! Noooo! Not like this!" she cried out as his sharp teeth bit into the tender flesh of her naked breasts. "Ooooowww, you're hurting them ... please don't bite them!"
It was obvious to Dr. Berger that the patient's husband was chewing on her ripe breasts voraciously. He felt his own cock harden at the lurid scene he was vicariously witnessing through his patient's reenactment of the wedding night trauma. The idealistic bride, a virgin long past the customary defloration period, which occurs for most females between fifteen and seventeen; sexual repressions, masturbation guilt. The over-anxious groom, fortified with alcohol and fired with impatience, his libido unrestrained. Suppressed anger and the guilt that accompanies it, also suppressed. Infidelity guilt and anger towards the first wife, which he gives expression to through the brutalizing assault on his frightened bride. It is a loyalty test, his aggressive tendencies seeking alienation of the woman he "loves" while his deep sense of inadequacy asks for his mother's condoning approval: I am being a bad boy, but Mother will forgive me. Yes, classic ...
Denise Yarbrough's subconscious faithfully reproduced every detail of her sexual initiation. She recoiled in horror as her new husband's hands and lips mauled her helpless body as though she were a captured rabbit and he, the conquering hound.
He ripped her panties off her body and flung them across the room, heedless of his actions. He was a man gone wild, his face a mask of demented lust, and she couldn't believe that this was the charming, witty, sensitive human being who had courted her so cleverly in the two months before they were married. At first he had been incredulous when she had told him she was a virgin. In fact, he laughed in her face, a thing that hurt her deeply, though she never revealed the extent of his affront to her. When finally he did understand that she not only was a virgin but intended to remain one until marriage, his sarcasm vanished and he treated her with genuine deference - she was the first woman, he claimed, who had ever refused him.
But he also made it clear that he would have to go elsewhere to relieve the urgent needs of his manhood, from time to time. She agreed that the biological priorities of men were more demanding than those of women and said no more about it. Actually, she felt almost relieved at Peter's candid intentions; it took the pressure off of her and allayed any guilt that she had about withholding her feminine favors from him until after the wedding vows. She had long dreamed and fantasized about her wedding night, how her husband would take her tenderly in his arms and kiss her eyelids gently ... how there would be the long, agonizing denial in which he kindled the fires of her body with exquisite tenderness and finesse, finally entering her body to catapault her into a sphere of ecstasy such as she had read about in stories written in some of the bolder women's magazines. It would go on and on forever, until the first light of morning blued the bridal chamber. Then she would fall asleep in his arms and dream of the raptures that had visited her body ...
Instead, her body had been used as an instrument for his pleasure. Through sheer, lust-incited force he had bent her flesh to his will, taking her virginity with a callous, hymen-tearing disregard that left an indelible impression of pain and debasement in her mind. She made a covenant with herself, though not consciously, that she would punish him for his bestial despoilment of her body, and her fantasy ...
It was really the affront to her fantasy that she resented most. In tearing her hymen the way he did, like an animal, a rapist, a stallion mounting a mare, he had torn her dreams apart.
There had been so many times prior to the wedding, when he had kissed her passionately goodnight and left her to lie in her bed alone, when her thoughts had culminated in heated gnawing desire deep in her lower belly. At those times, she couldn't resist probing her vagina with her fingers, bringing herself to some kind of orgasmic satisfaction. But her fingers proved less than adequate, and she longed for the feel of his organ inside her aching cunt. She was convinced that Peter would bring her to the heights of sexual pleasure in the way that a man can.
Now, on her wedding night, she was too fearful and too outraged by his attack on her to feel any real pleasure. She pleaded with him when his fingers wormed hotly into the soft folds of her vagina. Even as he rubbed them harshly against her clitoris, she felt nothing but anguish. She was totally unprepared for his aggressive behavior, so his heedless poking became a source of debasement, of humiliation.
Her cunt walls were tightly clenched when he drove his fingers into the warm virgin passage in a hurried attempt to prepare her for his entry. Then he was hovering over her, his throbbing blood-filled cock poised menacingly at the virgin entrance of her pussy. His eyes were ablaze with lust as he stared down at her nakedly quivering pubic mound ...
"Please, Peter... please be gentle. Please go slowly. Not so fast! Not like that! Awwarrggh! Aaahhh, owwww!"
What a bastard, a dummkopf!, Dr. Berger thought privately. The schwein should be castrated!
The long column of veined flesh split wide her soft, curl-rimmed pussy lips and fucked its way inside the tender passage relentlessly until the tip slammed hard against her belly up inside.
"Uuuunnnggghhh ... uuunnngghh!" the supine patient grunted as her mind's eye engaged her body in a memorial assault on her helplessly spread young vagina. The huge slippery cock was fucking in and out of her furiously, delivering punishing blows to her cock-filled cunt, filling her with a horrible dread. It was a nightmare that went on and on until finally, he heaved forward, crushing her under his weight as he filled her cock-stretched young cunt to the brim with boiling spurts of viscous white semen.
The patient had broken out in a sweat and was breathing coarsely on the leather couch. She groaned and fretted in her hypnotic trance. Dr. Berger quickly alleviated her discomfort.
"It's all right now, Denise. The pain is gone. There is no pain any more, only pleasant relaxation. You are very relaxed, you feel wonderful now..."
Slowly the patient's breathing returned to normal. Dr. Berger held her wrist as he looked at the illuminated dial on his wristwatch. The pulse was decelerating. He continued giving her therapeutic suggestions until the pulse rate hovered around 75 beats per minute, safely within the normal range. The fifty-minute hour was about up. Ten minutes to go. It was time to bring her back to the non-hypnotic state.
"You are going to wake up very soon, Denise. I am going to count backwards from ten to one, and when I reach one and snap my fingers, you will wake up instantly. Your eyes will open and you will feel alert and refreshed, as though you have had a sound night's sleep. You will not have any memory of the things you experienced in your hypnotic state, nor of anything said to me during that testimony. I repeat, you will have no memory of anything spoken or remembered during this relaxation session. Next week, when you come to me for your appointment, I will snap my fingers twice and give you the command, "Sleep!", and you will immediately close your eyes and fall into a willess state where you obey only the sound of my voice. You will respond to my questions fully and honestly, because you know that I am helping you...
"Now I am going to count backwards from ten to one, Denise. Ten - you are beginning to wake up from a long, delicious sleep. Nine - you feel an increasing lightness in your body ..."
The psychiatrist was walking over to the window as he spoke, drawing open the draperies ...
"Six - you are closer and closer to wakefulness..."
... pulling open the blinds to admit the horizontal ribbons of light, then walking back to his desk ...
"Three - you are almost fully awake now..." ... lighting yet another unfiltered cigarette from the dull blue packet on his desk ...
"Two - you are ready to awaken now, ready to resume your activities with renewed energy ..."
He sat down at his desk and half disappeared into the red cocoon ...
"... confident, self-assured, a beautiful young woman who can successfully cope with the pressures of life ..."
He snapped his fingers as he said, "One!" He sat back confidently, the smoke from his cigarette crowning him with a wreath of gray. Denise opened her eyes right on cue. She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment, then, fully aware of where she was, looked over at the small man in the oversized chair and smiled quite becomingly.
"How do you feel, Mrs. Yarbrough?" he asked casually.
"Oh, wonderful! Absolutely marvelous. When are we going to start the hypnosis, Doctor?"
"We finished it for today, Mrs. Yarbrough. Don't you remember?" His voice was calm, well-modulated. He looked at her steadily, his obscene lips curled in a coy smile.
"We did? You mean, you hypnotized me... already?" she blurted out. She was sitting up now, smoothing her hair, slipping her shoes back on, a look of puzzlement on her lovely face. Then she looked at her watch. Her mouth flew open in disbelief. She had been there for forty-nine minutes!
"It's true. I can't believe it!"
"I think we are making good progress, Mrs. Yarbrough. You are an excellent subject," he said as he rose from his enveloping chair. "I look forward to seeing you again next week." He held out his hand to help her up from the couch. They shook hands warmly, then he ushered her out the door. Denise was feeling on top of the world.
Chapter 2
The next time she visited Dr. Berger's office, the psychiatrist had only to snap his fingers and give the command, "Sleep!" and Denise was instantly transported into a deep hypnotic trance. Lying on her back on the soft leather couch, she waited for instructions from her therapist.
"Now Denise," he began in a syrupy, well-modulated professional voice, "I want you to go back to the night of the birthday party, to afterwards, when all the guests had left and you were alone with Peter in the bedroom. What happened first?"
The patient spoke slowly, deliberately, reliving every detail as though it had happened eight minutes ago, rather than eight days.
"I started to undress... my bra and panties. Peter was watching me, his eyes bright with lust, a curious self-satisfied smile on his lips ..."
"How did that make you feel, Denise?"
"Nervous ... I felt nervous - and afraid."
"Why would you feel afraid in front of your own husband, Denise?" the doctor pried.
"I ... I didn't want him to see the wetness ... It showed through my panties. I didn't want him to know I was turned on..."
"Why? Were you afraid he would rape you, the way he did on your wedding night?"
"Yes," came the monosyllabic reply.
"What did he do then?"
"He began to pull down his pants. Just what is it you're interested in?" (Denise had suddenly transferred her description into dialogue. Dr. Berger shrewdly picked up on the transition.)
"You tell me, Denise," he answered, "What did I say?"
"Finally you said, "Fucking you! Fucking you like you've never been fucked before! That's what I want, baby!"
"And how do you react to that?" the doctor probed some more.
"It doesn't repulse me. In fact, it makes chills go up my spine. It makes me think lewd thoughts."
"Then what happened, Denise?"
"He put his hands around my waist and pulled me close to his naked body. His erect penis slidbetween my smooth inner thighs. There was a look of purpose in his eyes that I had never seen before. He said, `You're going to know what fucking is, really is by the time I finish with you, baby. Say it! Tell me how you want it! Say you want me to fuck you good!' I was blushing because I felt embarrassed at being excited by his lewd statement, his determination and his naked body pressed against mine. His hard cock was pressed between my thighs, demanding something from me, and I knew what it was. I wanted to be lewd and vile - like a whore - if only to give him the present he wanted most, and to make a fresh try at keeping our marriage intact. It gave me courage to say it, to say what he wanted to hear."
"And what was that, Denise?"
"I... I want you to... to fuck me! I want you to fuck me hard, Peter!"
Feeling his own cock stiffen, the psychiatrist shifted nervously from one foot to the other as he puffed energetically on his Gaulois cigarette. He looked down at the beautiful woman who was exciting him with the recounting of her most intimate marital experiences. Ach!, how he would love to fall on top of her and plunge his hot organ into her inviting little cove! But he was her psychiatrist, and the ethics of his profession forbid seduction of a patient, particularly under hypnosis. That was beneath contempt, though God knows how many times it had happened among his unscrupulous colleagues! He preferred her to succumb to his "charms" under conditions of full consciousness. Undoubtedly, she would . ...
"What did Peter do then?"
"Peter leaned forward, his mouth open, and kissed me, driving his tongue into my mouth. He pulled me tight against him. I could feel his cock twitching excitedly while his strong hands roamed all over my body. He was kissing me feverishly and I returned his kisses passionately. Then he lifted me up and carried me over to the bed, just like he did on our wedding night. But this time he put me down gently, almost tenderly. It really surprised me. He lay down beside me then and placed his hand on my stomach, then eased my panties down very carefully, as though he didn't want to tear them. He reached around behind my back and pulled at my bra, finally undoing the hooks. My nipples were already hard - I was more stimulated than I had ever been, I think ..."
"Why do you suppose you were?" Dr. Berger asked as he walked around to the other side of his desk and opened a drawer.
"He was different ... slow ... gentle. He was sexy."
Berger took a wad of Kleenex from a square box. There was an enormous protrusion in his fly. As he casually walked around to the front of the desk again, he unzipped his fly ...
The patient continued: "... was kissing me again, licking down my neck, making goosebumps pop out all over my flesh. I curled my toes and opened my legs wider as he moved down my chest to my breasts. He opened his mouth wide and breathed his hot breath over them, making my nipples even harder. He took one of them in his mouth, laying his warm, wet tongue over it and groaning - like he was savoring a delicious morsel of food!"
Dr. Berger was savoring his patient's description of her husband's advances to her as he slowly stroked his hard, wet prick, imagining himself in bed with the delectable Mrs. Yarbrough.
"He licked it furiously around the nipple, then sucked half my breast into his mouth... Oooohh, oh ... darling, that's soooo good!" (She was writhing on the couch now, caught up in the replay of that night's excitement. Berger stroked his cock a little more energetically, sucking his breath in between his teeth and closing his eyes rapturously for moments at a time.)
"You're like my virgin bride all over again," he told me, "I feel like it's the first time. The smell of you, the feel of your warm, satin skin - you're an aphrodisiac, Denise ..."
Berger was going crazy. His hand pumped up and down along the length of his hardened shaft. "Wh-at h-happened then?" he asked tremulously.
"He sucked my breasts and nipples some more, then he drew back and, with his tongue extended, traced a path down my body... down to my pubic triangle. I didn't realize what he had in mind - I was already carried away from everything that had happened before. But then, when his head moved even lower, I knew he was going to ... to lick me between the legs. No, Peter! You mustn't do that! It's not right! Let go of my hips. Don't pull my legs apart like that ... Peter!"
She went on, talking freely in her hypnotic trance, telling the good doctor everything, making him a willing voyeur who "saw" everything that went on in the Yarbrough's bedroom that night. And this is what went on...
A tiny droplet of her seeping lubricating fluid moistened the fringe of her softly furred pussy, then more was visible as her vagina opened up like a flowering blossom covered with dew. Her clitoris stood up like a tiny pink bud of pleasure, and Peter slowly placed his thumbs on her vaginal opening, spreading the soft resilient curls of dark blonde pubic hair apart with deliberately tantalizing moves. The coral colored flesh of her pussy was completely exposed to his gaze. The hot air of his breath was grazing her sensitive nerves and she drew in her own breath as she felt his head move closer to her open vagina. Then it happened, and her whole body jerked convulsively as his warm wet tongue shot out of his mouth to probe teasingly into her quivering cunt.
A groan escaped from her throat as she ground her hips helplessly down into the bed and tried to draw her legs together in an effort to keep the tongue from driving her insane, but her husband was too strong for her, and he held her legs wide apart and chuckled obscenely as he ground his head into the open split between her legs. He covered her clitoris with heated tonguings, sucking it up into his mouth as though it were another nipple. Electric jolts of passion hit her as she felt his teeth sinking into the sensitive nerve. Like a wanton whore, she threw out her legs, kicking them wide apart to his lingual assault.
"Aaaaggghhh! Ooohhh!" she cried out from the couch. "Aaahhh, ooohhh," Dr. Berger whispered under his breath as he stroked his cock harder, thoroughly caught up in his vision of the lovely blonde patient being eaten by her husband. How he would love to taste her delectable pussy himself!
Denise Yarbrough relived the excitement she experienced on the night of her husband's birthday ...
"He slipped his hands under my buttocks and lifted me up higher in the air, closer to his probing tongue..."
He squeezed the firm flesh, holding the cheeks of her buttocks while he ran his tongue around and around in the soft wet valley of her cunt, slowly and deliberately easing his way down to the opening of her cuntal channel. The elastic tight orifice seemed to throb and flower open to the touch of his tongue, and with deadly accuracy, he probed deeper and deeper up inside her hotly quivering passage.
Denise was screaming in helpless ecstasy, her inhibitions erased, despite her stern and repressive upbringing. She chided herself for not letting Peter do it before, or any other man. She never knew what she was missing, never realized such fantastic pleasure existed. She also discovered the latent sexuality that had remained, like the mass of an iceberg, nine-tenths below the surface.
Driving his tongue like a hissing cobra in and out of her cunt, Peter felt his wife give in to his cunt-thrilling ministrations, and he roamed around the smooth white crevice of her buttocks with his hands. Finding the curving valley with his fingers, he spread the cheeks apart while he continued to orally fuck her with his tongue. She had lifted up her legs so that they were locked around his neck, and she pushed her erotically awakening cunt against his mouth with increasing intensity arid abandon. She was giving in to it for certain and Peter felt confident enough to push his middle finger into the softly yielding crevice of her buttocks in search of her little tan anus. When he touched the puckered little hole she cried out deliriously and, without waiting for her protest, wormed his finger inside the warm, clenching rectal passage.
Denise was totally confused by the sensual pleasure that streaked through her impassioned body. She was being assaulted by two pleasuregiving instruments simultaneously and she wanted to scream in rapture as unknown pleasures danced through her body like multiple explosions.
"Ooooohhhh ... God ... Peter!" she cried. Denise raised her hips off the psychiatrist's leather couch as she reenacted her response to her husband's actions:
His tongue was poking at her anus now, trying to slip up inside. Goosebumps covered her body. Her complete degradation was overwhelming in her mind, and she was stunned at her loss of control.
She tossed her blonde head from side to side as the pleasure-giving tongue kept licking on and on, jumping from her vagina to her anus and back again with complete freedom, and her body began to shake with the raw nerve-ends of pleasure. She stopped fighting the intense delight she was experiencing, giving in to his lewd desires completely. She began to cry, but only because of the joy ... joy she had so long denied herself. She raised her desiring loins to her husband, fully prepared to submit to his every whim. She ground her bare throbbing cunt up against his face, revelling in the insane throes of lusting passion that overtook her.
There was no doubting the complete alteration in Denise's attitude, and Peter took his oral fucking to task, wanting to bring her to climax with his tongue before he threw it to her with his aching cock. She had never submitted to his advances so completely before, and until that moment, he had just about given up ever making it totally with her. She was really hotter and wilder than he'd dared hope for, and he knew for the first time in their marriage that he would get her all the way. Working his tongue furiously now into the wetly sucking depths of her cunt, he stroked and teased it until he had to come up for breath.
"Ooooohhh! God! That's soooo goooodd! Lick it harder, darling! Lick it harder!" Denise cried out from the couch. A few feet away from the hypnotized woman, Dr. Berger was stroking his way to a self-induced climax. Beads of perspiration clung to his forehead, his boney knees were bent and his watery, steel-grey eyes bulged from their sockets. His mouth was open, the passage for expired breath, which was loud and coarse. He held his rigid cock in one hand, and in the other, the wad of pristine white Kleenex.
"Ooooohhh, God! Please lick it harder!" she chanted as she felt the sensations building and building within her. Her face was tense with animalistic passion. Peter lapped harder between her open thighs with his maddeningly swirling tongue. She felt his hands teasing at every sensitive part of her body like hot fingers of flame; her. breasts, rectum, clitoris - all points of sensation were aroused more than they ever had been in her life. She was soaring, climbing, ascending the heights of carnal passion. She was there!
And so was Dr. Berger. As the lovely patient jerked and heaved on the couch, imagining that she was cumming against her husband's hungrily sucking mouth, the elfin-sized psychiatrist shot his wad into the wad of tissues in his left hand, reeling against the broad walnut desk as his body shook convulsively forward and his eyes rolled upward into 'his head.
Denise Yarbrough twisted wildly on the couch, the leading lady in the erotic drama that was being shown on the screen of her subconscious, as the hot spasms of orgasm flooded through her body and the juices from her heated cunt gushed out of her carnivorous pussy and onto her husband's greedily sucking mouth. She screamed her joy over and over, her body a new receptacle of erotically bursting desire.
Finally she sank back onto the "bed" (and Dr. Berger hobbled around the desk and sank back into his enveloping cocoon of leather, letting his arms hang limply over the upholstered red chair arms) her body sated from her husband's tongue fucking.
Opening her eyes, she was embarrassed to see the grin of triumph on her husband's cum-coated face. His huge throbbing pole stood out menacingly from his groin. Her eyes widened when he reached down to stroke it.
"I'm going to fuck you now!" he said through bared teeth, thrusting his hips forward to emphasize his intention.
A new surge of wantonness grew in her being as she looked at the tip of his penis, studying the blood-engorged head with its tiny "eye" weeping tears of seminal lubrication. She studied the veiny shaft then, in all its throbbing length, realizing the pain it could inflict upon her.
He said: "I'm going to fuck you better than you can possibly imagine! You're going to find out finally what real down-home fucking is all about!" His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her juicy cunt. "I'm going to fuck you doggie-fashion. Turn over!
He grabbed her by the waist and rolled her over, lifting her into a kneeling position that left her buttocks waving defensively in the air. Denise wasn't sure how to react, but the position was both debasing and exciting. She realized that she had never allowed Peter to be very experimental - they had never departed from the standard missionary position, which she didn't like much. It wasn't comfortable like that, trying to wrap her legs around his waist. It hurt her stomach muscles, too, though she conceded that it was a good toner for the tummy.
Looking down between the valley of her breasts, she saw him plant his knees between her legs to hold them wide apart. He could see everything! And so could she. His hairy testicles swayed beneath his hard penis as he scooted up close to her. The. thick purple tip of his cock was pointing up between her thighs, almost pressing into her moist pink pussy.
"Reach back and take it' in your hand. Guide it up inside," he told her.
"Oh, God!" she moaned helplessly, as she reached back between her legs and wrapped her hand around the thick column of flesh. Guiding the hard, fleshy shaft into the passion-drenched hole, she parted the drenched pubic curls, then her lips.
Peter was on fire with impatient longing for release. He thought he would cum just from the contact with her heated pussy. This was the first time his wife had ever been half-way receptive to him, and her thundering orgasm had really turned him on more than he had ever been with her - except on their wedding night, and he winced every time he thought of his boorish, brutish display of animalism with his frightened new bride. Perhaps that's why he hadn't made many sexual demands on her since. He felt guilty as hell for the way he had taken her that night, and by not forcing her after that, he somehow hoped to buy her forgiveness. But tonight was different. Tonight was his birthday, and he knew she was prepared to go along with whatever fun he had in mind. He wasn't prepared for her to enter into things so enthusiastically.
Shoving his hips forward with desperate urgency, Peter pressed his cock against the tightly restricting passage to her belly, and the thick head popped inside and sank slowly into the tight warmth of the fearfully quivering little hole between her thighs.
"Oooohh!" she moaned helplessly as she lurched away from the giant mercilessly throbbing rod driving into her loins. But Peter held her tightly to him with his hands on her hips.
Pushing again, he drove the mammoth column an inch inside her tiny, fearfully palpitating opening, slowly impaling her soft cuntal depths. He couldn't wait to have his throbbing cock totally wrapped in the warm, wet walls of her proud little cunt. Inch by inch he thrust his way into her, slowly filling her tight passage with the lusthardened length of his huge column. She felt as though she were being stretched to the bursting point by his entry, and she could clearly feel every wrinkle of the massive cock through the sensitive walls of her vagina. Suddenly he lurched, and drove his shaft all the way up her belly.
"AAAGGGHHH!" she cried, more from surprise than pain, as her passage was slowly but surely becoming accustomed to the giant cock inside her. In spite of her fear, her groan became one of pleasure. Then Peter thrust even deeper into her nakedly open cunt, the tip of his cock striking hard against her cervix. She grunted, feeling his wiry pubic hair pressing into the crevice of her buttocks, and at the last of his probe, his balls swung forward to slap noisily up between the flesh of her soft inner thighs.
Immediately he began fucking in and out of her tightly clenched passage, the long hard strokes pounding deep up inside her womb, striking her cervix relentlessly. He stared down at her slavishly kneeling form, her buttocks grinding back sensuously to his driving rhythm, her smoothly hollowing back sloping down at the waist like a virgin ski slope. Her blonde hair swirled around her smooth shoulders as she flailed her head. She was more sensual than he had ever seen her before, and it made the sperm in his balls stir with passionate frenzy, urging him towards the ultimate physical joy.
"Ooooohhh! Oooohhh! Oooohhh!" she cried. She began to chant in time to his long hard strokes. She felt every inch of his giant cock as it slid smoothly up into her tightly clasping passage to hit bottom, then like a bouncing ball, suddenly returning to the beginning of the newly awakened passage. She fucked back shamelessly now, raising her buttocks up to each of his downward strokes, spreading her thighs wide apart to take him as deep up inside her hungrily milking vagina as possible. Nothing else mattered except the pleasure giving cock in the flaming passage of her cunt, a cunt that pulsated with hungry abandon. There was no longer any question of morals, of pride or shame.
Only the ultimate lusting desire of fucking and being fucked until she could no longer move!
"Yes, darling! Do it! Give it to me!" she shouted as her sexual frenzy grew.
(Dr. Berger wiped his brow with another wad of Kleenex, sorry, in a way, that he had ever led her into this intimate reliving of her unusual sexual encounter with her husband. But if he handled her just right, if he gave her just the right post-hypnotic suggestion, perhaps he could be privileged to enjoy similar favors of passion before the therapy sessions were over ...)
"What? Do what?" her fantasy husband demanded, squeezing his fingers into the soft flesh of her buttocks to force her to submit fully to his wild sexual assault.
"Ooooyyy ... fuck me... fuck me, darling. FUCK ME!" The lewd words came catapaulting out of her full, sensuous mouth and Denise knew full well what effect they would have on her man. The idea of transforming herself into a wanton woman was in itself exciting to her, and she wiggled her ass back against the plunging column of his lust-hardened cock with lusting abandon. She was filled with a passion she had not thought possible in herself, the very pleasure of it magnified a thousand-fold by the lascivious tongue fucking she had received a few moments earlier. Nothing had ever been like that before.
Each downward stroke of his hotly searing penis was like a thousand thrills of delight, and his sperm-laden balls slapped noisily with flat, fleshy smacking sounds up between her desperately straining thighs, adding to her pleasure. It was exhilarating! She looked back under her full, lewdly dancing breasts to see her soft blonde pubic hair and her tightly clasped cunt beneath it being split wide by the driving column of flesh. His cock seemed to withdraw until only the very tip of him remained inside her vagina, then it would smoothly drive back up into the passion slickened channel, the wet uneven lips of her cunt clasping at it hungrily until it completely filled the tiny pulsating hole. Peter's pubic hair was tickling excitedly into the naked crevice of her buttocks with each hard ass-battering thrust, and she felt a tingling sensation that seemed to travel all the way up to the tips of her rosy breasts. Her cunt was being plowed with long hard thrusts of his cock, and she could feel the joy of it all around her salaciously grinding loins.
What had happened to change his wife into the hotly fucking little sexpot she was now was no longer any concern of Peter's. All that really mattered was the way she was hungrily grinding her buttocks back against his driving prick. He held her tightly, pulling her ripe asscheeks against his groin with violent strength, then pushing her away again as he rhythmically fucked into her. He wanted to make her scream with the pleasure of his cock; beg him to pump his hot sticky cum deep inside her belly until she had milked him dry. Her cunt was like melted butter around his throbbing penis, the slickly pulsating walls feeling every part of it like a massaging wave. It was tight, and he fought off the growing urge in his balls, not wanting to cum until she had screamed out her own orgasm.
"Oooouuuu! Uuuummmhhh!" she moaned as his cock pounded her open vagina mercilessly. She struggled to breathe, gasping again and again as her face was shoved into the soft mattress by his lunging force.
Releasing his grip on her hips, Peter fixed his eyes on the white, smoothly undulating globes of her buttocks, then reached around in front of her marble thighs and inserted his finger into her pussy furrow. Denise let out a sigh of pleasure as her husband began to massage the throbbing button of her clitoris. He kept pounding into her as he wormed his finger around her clitoral area, each manipulation causing her to cry and buck harder against him, her loins an inferno of sexual pleasure. The slamming sensations, coupled with the skillful fingering wracked her body as she felt the mounting crescendo of pleasure coming on. She was going to cum again!
"Oooohhh ... ooohhh ... ooohhh!" Denise's gasps were like a signal to her husband who was fucking her from behind, and he felt the walls of her vagina begin to seep wetly with the warmth of her orgasm. Shoving forward with all the strength he had, Peter drove his cock as deep as he possibly could into her cuntal passage as he worked his finger relentlessly on her heated clitoris. Denise screwed her cunt back against his hammering cock like a wanton bitch in heat as she reached her climax.
The fantastic rush of her surging orgasm spilled out from deep within her belly and the heat of her fire flooded out of her contracting cunt like a raging river of hot pleasure, clasping and squeezing around the thick column of lust buried hard against the base of her insanely jerking body.
Her kneeling convulsing body flailed on the mattress, her cunt sucking feverishly on his cock, while she squeezed the lips of her pussy tightly around his pleasure-giving finger and rode it for all she was worth. She was wilder than any woman he had ever had, and he fucked into her with the growing excitement in his cock that signalled the approach of his own orgasm. And suddenly, the sperm in his testicles exploded into a thousand white-hot rockets of ecstasy, and his cum traveled, like a tidal wave, along the length of the hardened cock until it crashed on the beach of her womb. Peter was lost in the incredible rapture of his own climax, and he closed his eyes and raised his head as jolt after jolt of joyous sensation matched spurt after spurt of his boiling cum.
The mutual climax seemed to go on forever as they bucked and bounced together on the complaining mattress, her screams of joy echoing crazily around the room. Finally, her semen-drained husband fell forward, pushing her out flat on the bed, his tired body falling heavily on top of hers while his spent penis remained buried deep inside her cum-filled pussy ...
* * *
Denise was sitting up, putting her shoes back on, running a comb through her hair. She couldn't understand why she had that strange wetness in her pantyhose. She flushed with embarrassment, grateful that the austere Dr. Berger could not divine her thoughts ...
"Tell me, Mrs. Yarbrough, have you experienced other pleasurable encounters with your husband in the bedroom since that night of the birthday party, which you described to me as `a fluke'?" the shrink asked her, eyeing her carefully. He was an astute observer of body language.
"Actually, no, Dr. Berger. I guess I was too appalled at my ... my uninhibitedness that night. Ever since, I sort of reverted to type, I guess - much to my husband's disappointment. I want so badly to be really free."
"Yes, of course. And you should be. I have the feeling that you are really quite a sensuous woman under that prim facade."
"I am?" She seemed actually surprised, or else she was being a convincing actress. She wondered what gave him that idea.
"Undoubtedly. But your excessively puritanical upbringing has created blocks to the full expression of your sexuality. As you understand, this creates tension for both you and your husband. You have a little girl quality which is quite charming. Nonetheless, it is also part of your defense system, if you will allow me to suggest that. After that night of adult lovemaking, you - the little girl in you - chastised yourself for what you had been brought up to believe was unladylike behavior. You were frightened by your own sensuality, fearing that you would lose control. In other words, you would lose the little girl inside; the little girl who never wanted to grow up."
Denise sat on the edge of the couch, her blue eyes wide with amazement, her jaw slack. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, and yet, something deep within her acknowledged that what the psychiatrist was saying was all too true. She hadn't wanted to grow up, in some ways. In some ways, she didn't want the responsibility of being an adult, and all that it implied. That's why she contrived to alienate every suitor that ever came to her door.
"I hate to admit this, Dr. Berger, but I think you're right."
"Thank you, Mrs. Yarbrough," he said ironically, showing a hint of professional pique. He was the foremost psychiatrist in Oakland ... in the world!
"But what can I do to change," she pleaded, the tone of her voice matching a nine year old's.
"You are on the right track, Mrs. Yarbrough. Hypnosis can accomplish in a short time what traditional methods would take months, years to achieve. I have another idea, one that may seem unthinkable to you. It is somewhat revolutionary, as most of my ideas are. However, I want you to consider it very carefully before you decide against it.
Denise was breathless with anticipation. A little involuntary tremor shook her shoulders. "I'll certainly consider any possibility, anything that could free me from the sexual shackles I've worn for so long, Doctor. I love my husband, and I want to save my marriage. I know I'm at fault just as much as Peter for the things that are wrong."
"Good. Excellent. You know, of course, that your husband represents a father figure to you..."
"Peter? Oh no ..." she protested, but the thought made an impression on her mind.
"... That is why you experience reluctance to give yourself to him freely. Incest shocks you, doesn't it?"
"Well, incest, yes ... But this isn't exactly the same..."
"In reality, no. But in your mind, it is tantamount to incest. But if you were to allow another man to make love to you, one with whom you had no such hang-up..." The doctor chuckled at his deliberate use of vulgar American slang. It was his condescending blow at hipness.
"But that's out of the question, Dr. Berger!" she exclaimed hotly, the self-righteousness welling in her bosom, "I couldn't be unfaithful to my husband, I just couldn't. And besides, there's no one I feel sexually attracted to ..."
She searched her mind. There was no one - except for one person, one man who had caused flutterings of desire deep in her belly. But that was out of the question. It was unthinkable ... not her own stepson!
"Are you quite certain, Mrs. Yarbrough?" Berger said, smoothing his matte brown moustache with his nicotine-stained middle finger. He felt stirrings in his own groin as he remembered his own explosive orgasm while his unsuspecting patient relived her cunnilingual climax. "Surely you know someone, if only slightly, with whom you could let yourself go enough to experience your sexual personna freely. Once your inhibitions were fully released, you could then transfer your libidinal drives to your husband ..."
Denise stared down at the floor. She was weighing every word the psychiatrist spoke. Troy looked so much like his father, though his personality and nature were different in many ways. No, she couldn't do it. She just couldn't!
"Are you very, very certain there is no man with whom you could experiment, even to save your marriage?" the shrink prodded her. "Give yourself some time to think about it. We can explore it next week."
"Yes, Dr. Berger," she said, getting up from the couch and starting for the door, "I'll think about it. I'll think it over very carefully ..."
Chapter 3
Dear Dad and Denise -
Just a quickie to let you know that I'll be arriving at
Oakland Intl. on Friday, June 18 at 1:30 P.M., PSA Flight
#204. Hope somebody can be there to meet me. Looking
forward to seeing you both.
Troy
The good-looking young man scrawled his signature on letter, stuffed it in an envelope and licked it. He scratched the address on the front, placed a thirteen cent stamp on the right hand corner and stuffed it into the back pocket of his sun-faded cutoff Levi's. The phone rang.
"Hullo?"
"Troy, it's Neil. Howdja like to boogie tonight with a couple of live ones?"
"Oh yeah? Just how live are they? Those last two you came up with must of come right out of a convent school, man. I don't want to get burned again ... I'd rather take in a good flick."
"That's exactly what I had in mind - a good flick. Have you seen WOMAN'S BEST FRIEND?"
"Hey, wait a minute, man. That's hard core stuff," Troy objected.
"Right. I think it ought to put the ladies in just the right mood for a little screwing, don't you?"
"You're spaceville, man. What kind of lady is going to trot off to a dirty flick with us?" he asked, a tone of exasperation in his voice.
"These ladies, dude!" came the reaffirming reply. "I picked this chick up on the Coast Highway today, a hiker. A knockout, with jugs that won't quit. And is she hot to trot! Practically let me feel her up in the van! I asked her if she wanted to go truckin' tonight, and she practically foamed at the mouth. I told her I had a buddy who might be free and she goes, `What a coincidence - my girl friend's crashing with me for a week, I know she'd love to meet him.' It's all set, man. If the lady's chick friend is anything like her..."
"And if she isn't?" Troy interrupted. He didn't like blind dates. He wanted to choose his own woman. He had to call the shots.
"Easy, dude. Do you want to score or not?"
"Fuck, yes! But not if it means getting the clap! And not with a dog!" Troy shouted back.
"The dog's in the film, dude. As for the lady, I have a feeling she's going to be A OK. Birds of a feather, ya know. And what the hell if she isn't - it's still a free fuck! Don't be so goddamned tight, man!"
"Yeah, well, OK Neil. But she'd better be good, man, or it's the last time you're gettin' yours truly to go in blind," Troy emphasized.
"Cool it, pal. To show you what kind of a buddy I am, I'll let you have seconds on my lady if the friend is a turkey. Now is that a buddy, or is that a buddy, huh?"
Troy had to laugh. "Neil, you're a goddamn jewel!" he said, his voice reflecting the wide grin on his handsome face.
"Right on, dude. Right on! Hitch to my pad tonight. We can have some grub first, then pick the ladies up around eight ..."
"You mean we don't have to feed them first?"
"Shit, no! We're takin' 'em to the flicks, ain't we? Afterwards maybe we'll stop at Taco Belle."
"Neil, you're all heart," Troy chuckled again.
"Man, in the words of Marie Antoinette, Let 'em eat cock!"
* * *
Troy spent the rest of the day doing what he usually did - surfing. He was typical of the ubiquitous blonde youths who seem to be spawned by the sea, their hair bleached nearly white in the summers from hours under the relentless Southern California sun. Troy hung around with the other pier rats until the sun went down, his sleek muscular body gilded by the Western sun reflected off the shimmering Pacific salt water. Nights were spent partying, shooting the breeze with his buddies, or looking for ladies to score with. Except when school was in session.
Peter Yarbrough's son had just finished his freshman year at University of California, Irvine, on the Orange County coast. It was natural for him to go there, since he had grown up in the area, and lived with his mother in Costa Mesa. And that's where the surfing was, on that picturesque strip of California coastland between Newport and Laguna Beach. He loved the mountains, too, and spent a lot of time hiking and backpacking. Lately he had gotten into hang gliding, and loved the fantastic feeling of freedom that went with it. Man on his own, just like in the mountains, or in the sea. He loved danger, a challenge, and he loved to be part of nature.
He had a lot of boyish exhuberance, and a "surf's up," go-to-hell way about him, which women found irresistible. Of course, not the least part of his charm was the clear, almond-shaped crystal blue eyes, and the full pouting mouth, and the impish grin which revealed teeth so white, so even they appeared to be made of plastic. What a commercial he could do for Ultra Brite! His compact body was strong and golden, his muscles taut and supple. And he had a shock of sun-streaked golden curls that hung just below his ears. Girls loved to run their fingers through his hair, which always embarrassed and irritated him somewhat. He felt secretly that if it weren't for his strong nose and high cheekbones, he would look like a cupid, and he hated his hair. He wished instead that it were stick-straight and no color in particular. (Despite his good looks, and the attention he drew from females of all ages - he was a "pet" of older women - Troy wasn't the least bit conceited or self-impressed. In fact, he was almost shy, which only made him more appealing to the opposite sex.)
By contrast, Neil Winster had shoulder-length brown hair which was poker straight and usually hanging in strings around his face. The brown-eyed youth was twenty - a year older than Troy - and hadn't outgrown a lankiness that usually disappears at the end of adolescence. His tall frame seemed to be strung together with wires, like a giant marionette, and he was forever tripping over his feet or bumping into things. He had a great sense of humor though, and was a buddy you could count on, and that's why Troy liked him. Neil also had a brash, gutsy approach to women that the blond youth envied. Nobody made out more than Neil. He almost always scored, and he wasn't too particular... the name of his game was fucking, and he was a cocksman of the first order.
The girls turned out to be more than he had dared hope for. Neil's lady was a tall brunette, with satin hair that hung down to her waist. Her boobs were the size of melons, the nipples as big as dimes under the white knit halter top she wore. She was a big girl, with a full-blown figure and heavy-lidded, seductive eyes that were heavily mascaraed, and her ample ass almost split the low-cut bell bottom pants she wore. Her name was Carolyn.
But if she looked good, Kelly was sensational, a really beautiful girl. Her long auburn hair bounced as she walked, framing her oval face. She was very freckled under a light sun tan, but on her it looked good. She had sparkling green eyes and a ready smile, an easy friendly way about her that made Troy feel relaxed and confident. And she was sexy as hell. Good, high boobs, a tiny waist, firmly rounded ass, sensational legs, from what he could see. She was wearing a jeans skirt that she made herself, and a bright green tank top that showed her lovely shoulders and arms to perfection. She had a low, sultry voice that was like smoke drifting across water, and Troy felt an excitement, an impatience stirring in his loins.
Did she like "sexy" movies? Did she! Kelly proceeded to talk about DEEP THROAT, BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR, THE DEVIL IN MISS JONES and half a dozen other porno flicks that Troy had never seen, counting on the fingers of her brightly nail-polished hands in the most blase way, as though she was a regular customer. How old was she? Eighteen!
They passed around a couple of joints at Carolyn's apartment and drove to Anaheim, stoned mellow. Neil made jokes about the "marital aids" offered for sale in the display case of the dingy movie theatre. There were rubber dildos of every size, including one of grotesque proportions, turn-on pills, "love jellies" and stuff to keep a hard-on going forever, plastic pussies, blow-up bedmates and several "adult" books. The management had thoughtfully provided a box of pink tissues for those who might require them ...
The sallow-faced fat man who sold them their tickets didn't even ask for an I.D. There wasn't a trace of emotion on his puffy mug, but his eyes darted like a lizard's as he scanned both the girls and then, their escorts. In his business, you didn't ask questions. You already knew the answers. His job was to sell tickets, and he didn't care to whom he sold them. Curiosity had vanished with his childhood.
It took a while for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. After walking up and down the aisle a bit, Neil finally motioned them to a side area towards the front. There weren't many guys there. In fact, the theatre was only half-full. Mostly midde aged men, a few teenagers who laughed too loud to cover their embarrassment, and a few couples. Now and then you could hear the crackle of a candy bar wrapper, or something dropped on the floor. But mostly, it was very, very quiet, except for the action on the screen.
Troy had never been to a porno flick with a girl, though he didn't tell Neil that, and he found himself slunking down in his seat, staring straight ahead, not wanting to look at the luscious redhead he had brought. The second feature was on.
"Goddamn!" Troy exclaimed under his breath as he watched the couple on the screen. The naked actress was kneeling over the sprawled body of a dude, her knees straddling his head. Her long dark hair dangled to the floor as she knelt over his groin on her elbows, her head poised above his cock! She looked up at the camera and smiled, licking her lips deliberately as she readied herself for her prurient task. She looked back over her shoulder, wiggling her buttocks wantonly in her co-actor's face.
There was a cut to her backside, to the naked furrow between her plump asscheeks. The dude had his hands on the two globes of ass flesh, pulling the cheeks apart to give the audience an even better view of the girl's crotch. Suddenly he positioned his finger right at the entrance to her anus and started making tiny teasing circles around it with his index finger. The girl lurched forward and tossed her head in the air. The camera showed a look of delight and encouragement on her pretty face. Her breasts hung pendulously from her chest and swayed back and forth as she wiggled with pleasure. Suddenly the dude pushed his finger right inside her anus! The girl bucked and sighed, saying: "Oh, that's the way, baby. Finger-fuck my asshole, daddy!"
She opened her mouth wide and slowly leaned down further and further until she had most of his stiff cock in her mouth. Then slowly, very slowly, she drew her head up again, as though she were sucking on a giant lollipop. The dude had huge balls, and she cupped them in her other hand, rolling them around and squeezing them against each other very deliberately.
Troy felt the blood rush to his temples. But not only there! His cock was rock-hard, despite himself, and he shifted in his seat, placing his ankle on top of his other knee in an effort to minimize the noticeable bulge in his pants. Kelly shifted too, scooting down a little in her seat and planting her feet on the floor so that her creamy thighs were spread. She startled him by casually placing her small hand on his thigh!
There was a shot of the actor's mouth, with his long, beefy tongue pointing straight at the girl's cunt! He wagged it obscenely from between his purple lips as he continued to ream her anus with his finger. Suddenly he withdrew his finger and wiped it on the girl's white ass. She leaned back into him then, and his tongue disappeared in her vagina.
Kelly's hand moved a little bit higher on his thigh. Troy didn't know whether to stop her or to let her do what she wanted to do. Maybe he was old fashioned, but there was something in her aggressiveness that bothered him. He wanted to take the initiative. He reached for her hand and squeezed it in his own, holding it in place.
A quick sidelong glance at the couple to his right told him that they were already getting it on. Neil's hand was in the crotch of Carolyn's white bell bottom's, and she was holding onto the bulge in his fly! Damn!
On the beaded screen in front of them, the dark-haired actress was now sucking the actor's cock with a vengeance; he was tonguing her cunt with fervor. It wouldn't win an OSCAR, but he was sure it would make the two of them happy!
Her dark hair was pushed back and it was possible to see the lewd sucking clearly. She had one hand wrapped tightly around the thick base of the dude's erect cock, pumping him with her hand while her head bobbed up and down. She was taking nearly three-quarters of the length into her widely ovaled lips. There was a lot of heavy breathing, grunts and moans on the sound track. The girl looked up devilishly into the camera. Her eyes were glazed with lust as she sucked and licked at the huge column of flesh that protruded from her mouth. Troy was -amazed that the girl was capable of taking such length into her mouth, and it, surprised him that she didn't gag. The guy must have been ten inches long!
Her cheeks hollowed and filled out as her head worked teasingly up and down, and there were traces of scarlet from the heavy lipstick she wore. That gave Troy a particular jolt of excitement, when they panned in close for a shot of her lips working slavishly on the dude's cock, covering it with streaks of red. His prick was about to burst from his own fly, and he knew that Kelly and anybody else around them could clearly see that he had a hard-on.
"Guess you like this part ..." she cooed in his ear, looking down at the bulge in his pants. "So do I..."
Geezus! This chick's really asking for it!, Troy thought, I'm going to give her a chance to put up or shut up, for sure!
Kelly lifted his hand and moved it over to rest on her warm thigh. She kept her hand over his, so that he would definitely get the message that that was where it was supposed to be - for now. Troy decided to let happen whatever the hell was going to happen. They couldn't go all the way - not in the fuckin' movie theatre. But who knows what would cum of it?
The girl worked with greater and greater intensity, pulling and sucking at the lust-stiffened penis as though it contained some delicious honeyed nectar that she desperately had to draw out of his balls. Troy could almost feel her warmly clasping mouth around his own cock, and he had to shift his gaze. to the girl's sensuously grinding buttocks to keep from going out of his mind. He wondered if Kelly could suck cock that well, and imagined himself in the dude's position, with the luscious redhead blowing him like the girl in the film was doing...
The cinematographer focused again on the actress's loins, and on the frenetic tonguing her pussy was getting. The dude's hands clutched her soft ass flesh, pulling her cheeks apart, and the lips of her pussy. It was glistening with saliva mixed with her own excited cuntal lubrications.
Kelly moved his hand up her thigh, under her skirt. She spread her legs wider apart, so that her thigh was pressed tightly against Troy's. "Lucky girl," she whispered, "I'd like to audition for that part ..."
Damn!, Troy swore to himself, if this is the way she wants it, she's not getting an argument from me. I'll fuck her hot little ass off. He moved his hand right to the edge of her panties. She scooted down further, giving him easy access to her cunt. All he had to do was sneak his fingers under the elastic legband and nuzzle them into her slit. She wanted to be fingerfucked so goddamned bad!
The heavy breathing was not confined to the film actors. It was going on right beside him. He felt a jostling against his other leg and glanced over to see Carolyn hunched over Neil's lap, her long hair hiding her obvious cock-sucking! Neil's eyes were glazed as he looked ahead of him to the screen, his glance far away. He had his hand down inside her white halter and was rolling the huge melons of breastflesh around on her chest. It nearly blew Troy's mind!
Kelly saw it, too, and immediately she placed her hand in the crevice between Troy's thigh and his lower belly, where it rested against his lust-bloated balls.
There was a close-up shot of the actor's tongue flicking out at the softly glistening valley of the girl's soft, hair-lined vagina. Her clitoris was erect and throbbing with sexual excitement as the boy's tongue lashed across it again and again, probing in and out of the tiny, visibly throbbing little hole in an animalistic rhythm of lust. With his other hand, the man felt the smooth white crevice of her firm young buttocks, then reached for her ripe, dangling breasts to tweak the nipples between his fingertips.
The girl moaned with pleasure around the pistoning cock in her mouth, sucking with even greater urgency on its pistoning hardness. She was going to cum soon, he knew, and he snaked his fingers under Kelly's filmy panties, which were wet with her cunt juices, and began to toy with the crisp pubic curls that framed her pussy lips. The redhead sucked in her breath between her teeth. She suddenly grabbed his hard cock and squeezed so hard he almost cried out in pain. He stuck his fingers right between the lips of her pussy and let them slide down the slippery furrow. Kelly went for his zipper.
Suddenly all hell broke loose, both on screen and off. The dark-haired actress screamed and bucked convulsively as she cried out her delerium. Her hand pumped the throbbing cock that jutted out from between the actor's legs and she flailed her head from side to side, her entire body a sensual mass of sexual pleasure, twisting and churning lasciviously over her horizontal partner. Then she fastened her mouth over the shiny cock in her hand and sucked earnestly again, her moans and grunts of pleasure genuine as her body trembled with the last jolts of orgasm.
"Far out! Far fucking, sucking out!" Neil said audibly, "Ohhhh, yeeesss!" He shuddered and jerked in his seat as he came in the brunette's mouth. Then the actor came, and the actress kneeling over him puffed out her cheeks as she desperately swallowed the spewing hot cum from his spurting cock. It ran out of her mouth and slid down his wet shaft obscenely like a vanilla milkshake.
Troy.was totally absorbed in the sensual image before him, the lewd connection of the two people making his blood swirl wildly through his body, igniting a lust he had never before known. His cock ached to be set free from his confining pants, and he wanted to go right through the movie screen to join the celluoid couple in their bizarre sexual ritual. Neil had just been sucked off by his "date," the lucky bastard - though Troy wasn't the type for exhibiting his venal nature in public, no way. But it took all of his strength and will power to keep from whipping his own cock out right there and shoving Kelly's face in his loins. From what he had seen of her, she probably wouldn't have objected, and even now she was manipulating the bulge in his fly and trying her best to get his zipper down. Hell, why shouldn't he let her play with it? His only concern was a practical one: if he let her jerk him off he'd have cum all over his pants - and that wasn't too comfortable, to say the least. No, better to hold off and- boogie to the van, where they could both get it on in privacy. Yeah, that was the thing to do, providing he didn't shoot off before they got up from their seats!
The film was over and they were running the credits. Next to him, Kelly was writhing in the seat, pushing her heated pussy against his hand. She was juicing all over the place, her skirt hiked up to her upper thighs. Controlled moans and gasps came from her mouth and her eyes were fixed and glassy. Damn! She was bent on cumming right there in the movie theatre!
There was no intermission. Instead, the feature film title appeared: WOMAN'S BEST FRIEND, starring Brenda Boxx and Ring Ding Dong. The opening shot was a panoramic scan of a smog-shrouded city in the distance. The camera moved back, showing a grassy, wooded knoll, from where the city could be seen. Motorcycle - a trail bike - resting against a pine tree, then the camera moved to a blanket spread on the shady grass, a picnic basket on one corner. The pan moved to a girl's head bent low over something, so that only her long blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight. Then it pulled back, revealing the girl's beautiful face and ... naked body. She was resting on her elbows as she lay on her stomach, reading a book of some kind.
A long shot from the reverse angle, revealing the girl's nude body completely, with emphasis on her small waist, her ripe buttocks and her long shapely legs. She had a sensational figure.
There was a shot of the trees behind her, and a close-up of a sinister looking man who spied on her, licking his lips salaciously. He had a gun in his hand. He cautiously began to move towards her, creeping silently through the trees. The girl turned her head and looked around, thinking she heard something, but then went back to her reading. She turned over on her back, giving the audience a full look at her gorgeous body. Her firm white breasts were starkly white, the nipples sepia colored against the pink aureoles. She held the book in one hand as she continued to read avidly, licking her lips, her eyes darting across the page and back again.
As the camera continued pulling back, it zoomed in on her smooth, flat stomach, then down to her pubic triangle, which had been shaved clean of hair! She looked like one of those nymphs in a Renaissance painting. Even her face had a classic symmetry to it, and her eyes were golden brown. She was probably in her early twenties. The thing that really blew Troy's mind though, was her startling resemblance to his stepmother, Denise! Except for the color of her eyes, Brenda Boxx was a ringer for his dad's second wife (though Troy had never seen her without clothes on - Denise was so uptight, she probably never took them off, except to take a shower!) But the features, the size of the breasts, her height - all of those reminded him uncannily of his stepmother, who he thought privately was one of the best-looking chicks he had ever seen. In fact, if she weren't his stepmother, he would love to get into her pants. His of man was one hell of a lucky dude!
The girl opened her legs and the camera zoomed in on her pussy, then pulled back. She was scissoring her legs now, and her chest heaved up and down with obvious excitement. Chit to the "bad guy" who is closer and closer to the clearing where the unsuspecting beauty lies, absorbed in her book. Suddenly, he leaps out from behind the trees, gun in hand and shouts to the girl to put her hands up. She throws the book in the air and the audience gets a close-up of the book title: A Virgin's Ordeal.
The dude starts to unzip his pants while he has her covered with the gun. He orders her to play with herself, to spread the lips of her pussy so that he can have a good look at what he's getting himself into. He gets down on his knees to peer inside her cunt, where the pink knob of her clitoris is plainly visible. He orders her to squeeze her breasts with the other hand, and the young woman complies, though her face is tortured with fear. She rotates her cream-white buttocks on the blanket as she massages one of her breasts in a small circle; thumb and forefinger squeezing the nipple into hardness.
The dude has his pants down to his knees and his cock is jutting out menacingly from his groin. His lips are curled into a sadistic sneer.
Suddenly, from out of the woods, a huge, fierce Doberman twitches his nose, pricks up his ears and begins to run at top speed. In seconds, he is in the clearing and leaping at the would-be rapist, knocking the dude to the ground and clamping his saber-like teeth around the man's hairy wrist. The gun is knocked a few feet away from him, and the frightened girl jumps up to retrieve it. She stands above him, then, like a conquering heroine, telling the dude that he has no choice but to get lost and fast, otherwise her dog will tear him to ribbons, will rip his cock right off of him. "What'll be, mister?" she snarls. The dude begs for mercy, asking her to call off the dog and apologizing for ever threatening her at all. "Hell, I just wanted to have a little fun, " he jokes feebly. The scene ends with the rapist scrambling down the hill, clutching at his pants as the girl laughs and watches her dog nipping at the guy's ass half-way down the hill. That's the end of him!
Kelly was cumming! The redhead groaned out her ecstasy and creamed all over Troy's fingers as she came and came in the movie seat. "Oooohhh, ooohhh!" he heard her say under her breath as she shuddered violently. Goosebumps popped out on her arms and legs. Troy's balls were about to burst. They ached with want of release. He didn't know how he could sit there much longer without popping off, but he was determined to save it for later, when they would sneak off and fuck in the van. Besides, he was absorbed in the flick. He just couldn't stop comparing the blonde actress to his blonde stepmother! He wondered what it would be like to make it with Denise...
The girl got down on the blanket again and rolled over on her back, going back to her reading. The close-up of her face showed that she was still turned on. Then the camera pulled back as her hand began to slowly move down over her belly toward the nude sex triangle between her legs, bypassing it momentarily to roam over her smooth thighs, stroking the tops and sides and finally, the tender flesh on the inside. Her fingers moved back to the damp furrow between her thighs and towards her pulsing clit.
The camera zeroed in on her moist, naked slit. She was spreading it apart with the fingers of one hand while she continued to read from the book. With her extended middle finger, she began to stroke the erect, bud-like clitoris. Her sensuous movements increased as her probing finger worked itself into the pink edges of her cunt. More excited then, she slipped her middle finger in and out smoothly between the lubricated lips as she drew her legs back to her breasts, and the soft rounded buttocks rose and fell in response to the inquiring finger. Her facial muscles tightened as she joined another finger with the first, and clenching her jaws, pushed both her fingers into the hungry pink fold. The girl purred with sexual pleasure.
The girl had become possessed with raw lust, as she writhed beneath her own driving fingers in uncontrollable passion. She pumped hard and fast, her fingers sliding in and out of her wide spread cunt almost too fast to see, and she clenched and unclenched her buttocks as she strained up against her probing digits. The steadily increasing rhythm drove rapid grunts of pleasure from deep within her throat as the fingers sunk into the tight, pink opening, making sucking sounds as she withdrew them again. She rolled her head from side to side, her hair spreading like a golden fan.
There was a long shot then, showing the dog bounding back to his mistress, his long red tongue drooping to the side of his mouth as he panted in the sun. Seconds later, he was on the blanket, hovering over the girl's face to receive his congratulatory petting and praise. He licked her face, licked her right on the mouth. The book had been knocked out of her hand by the Doberman's enthusiastic prancing and pawing. His sleek black body gleamed in the sunlight and saliva dripped from his chops. He was all bone and muscle and raw animal strength. His mistress had taken her fingers out of her pussy and was hugging the animal who had saved her from assault by an unknown gunman.
The dog caught the scent of pussy on her fingers and focused his sensory awareness on them, licking them wildly. He began to get an erection, and an inch of his slippery pointed penis protruded from its hairy sheath. He went crazy then, licking her body from her face to her pointed nipples, down her belly to the source of the musky sweetness captured on her fingers. The blonde's legs were still open wide, and her raw pussy was puffed with desire. "Yes, Ring ... that's the place. Lick it there, baby. Lick momma's hot pussy, boy ..." she breathed huskily, her voice quavering with desire.
The huge sleek Doberman stuck his wet nose in her pussy. You could see his long red tongue sticking out obscenely from between his black lips, and the gleaming saber teeth that had effectively dispatched the assailant. The girl pulled the lips of her pussy wide apart with her fingers and lifted her legs back, jackknifing them against her chest. Ring Ding Dong began to lick over the narrow pink slit avidly, bringing a look of rapture to the woman who was lying naked on the blanket beneath him. His sharp hot tongue spread through the pouting furrow like a knife through soft butter. It flicked relentlessly between the girl's widespread thighs, curling its way deep up inside her well-lubricated passage. She jerked spasmodically as she squirmed under the giant dog, her arousal becoming more and more intense. Wild, incoherent shreiks streamed from her lips, pleading and encouraging the dumb animal salivating between her writhing, upturned buttocks.
The camera moved in close as tiny rivulets of moisture were building in the crevice of the girl's white rotating buttocks. Her body glistened with perspiration and her screams became louder, signaling the approach of her climax. Suddenly she was there. She screamed like a banshee and shoved her pussy into the Doberman's face as hard as she could, grinding her buttocks against the blanket uncontrollably, her belly, her breasts, her whole body quivering with orgasmic passion. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she was lost in the frenzy of her cumming.
"Oh God!" Kelly breathed, squeezing his rock-hard cock tighter than before. He still had his finger in her pussy, and feeling the warmth of her cuntal passage around his finger excited him even more. He had to get out of there soon, or he'd pop off in his pants, without the benefit of her jerking him off even. He whispered to her, "Let's go to the van for a while, huh?"
"Huh? What did you say?" she asked. Her eyes were riveted to the screen, and she seemed lost in the drama that unfolded before them.
"Let's boogie to the van, Kelly. I can't take much more of this, if you know what I mean," he said.
She gave him a quick look and flashed him a sudden knowing smile. "Sure, daddy, I can dig it. We'll split in just a sec, OK?" She finished her statement with a wicked little wink, as if to say, Don't worry, baby ... I'm gonna take care of you real good!
The dog's tongue was hanging out about a foot, it seemed, and so was his cock. Geezus, he was as big as a man! He lifted his head from the panting girl's crotch and began to nose and paw her over on her stomach, licking the puckered brown hole of her anus while she held the cheeks of her buttocks apart for him. She scooted up on her knees, raising her white luscious flanks in the air for the inevitable breech attack by the panting dog.
Seconds later he was mounting her, the glistening scarlet penis dripping with desire. The slippery taper at the end danced in the hot wet anal crevice as the animal trembled and jerked, trying to find the receptacle for his lusting shaft. He was thrusting wildly, and the tip of his canine cock slid forward to nuzzle against her sensitive clitoris, causing his mistress to lurch forward. The hot scarlet of his jabbing penis contrasted startlingly with the fevered pink of the girl's passion-inflamed cunt, spreading the lips wider as his still unhoused shaft rubbed between them. Finally, the blonde reached back, grabbed the slippery organ and placed the point of it against her vagina, and the dog thrust home. The girl screamed and moved back to meet the thrust of the panting dog. The muscles glistened in his body as he wrapped his paws around his mistress's waist and dripped saliva from his wet chops onto her sweat-stained back. She began to undulate, moving her buttocks in tiny lewd circles, abandoning herself to the animal who was fucking her from behind. The dog's jerking penis slithered in and out of the squirming woman's hotly grasping hole, and it was clear what effect the animal-fucking was having on her as the camera showed a close-up of her face. Her breasts danced tautly beneath her writhing torso, moving in time to the skewering cock of the dog. She was completely out of her gourd, shouting lewd encouragements through passion-clenched teeth. She begged him to fuck her harder and faster, and she ground her buttocks back in her low, mewling plea for his hot animal sperm to shoot hotly up into her clasping cunt.
Troy couldn't take any more. His cock was bursting the seams of his pants and he had a case of lover's nuts that pained him terribly. He reached around behind Carolyn and grabbed Neil by the shoulder. "The keys to the van, man. Gimme the keys," he whispered. He rolled his eyes and winced. His buddy got the message and reached in his pocket, forking the keys over with a fraternal grin.
"Let's go, baby," he commanded the mesmerized redhead. "We're gonna make a movie of our own now!" Giving her no chance to refuse, he grabbed her hand and practically yanked her out of the seat, forcing his way past the knees of the voluptuous brunette and the lanky Neil.
"Have fun ..." Carolyn quipped, a devilish grin on her face.
Minutes later, they were out on the street. The cool night air felt good on Troy's fevered face. He was glad to get out of the stifling theatre, with its odor of stale popcorn, sweat and dried cum. Making it with animals wasn't his bag anyway, especially animals fucking ladies. He could get off on the idea of tonguing, but getting fucked by a dog, no way. It was just too damned perverted. Besides, the lady looked too much like his stepmother, and that bothered him more and more. Denise would die if she knew there was an actress who was her double letting a dog do it to her on film!
He walked so fast, Kelly had to run to keep up with him. "Hey, where's the fire?" she called after him.
"In my groin, baby - as well you know. You started it!"
The van was a "make-out wagon," with a big mattress in the back, some permanent press sheets and a couple of pillows from a Middle Eastern shop in Laguna Beach. There were also a few homemade candles and some incense sticks. Troy lit up another joint and they shared it between them as they undressed. Kelly was hot to trot again, as he knew she would be. She was the kind of chick who was naturally horny, he figured, and the grass was unnecessary, but it did add an other-worldly glow which heightened the turn-on.
"I want to fuck you, Kelly," Troy said in a slurred voice. He fastened his mouth over her breast, sucking the pink button of pleasure as his hands roamed all ever her luscious body. She was squirming with passion and her hand found his cock, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. "Oooohhh! It's sooooo big!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her tiny hand around its throbbing thickness, stroking it with the skill of an expert.
"Don't do that too much, baby - you'll make me shoot off right now," he pleaded. He had to fuck her quickly. Later, if there was time, maybe he'd get her to suck his cock, the way the brunette in the film sucked that dude.
"If you're going to shoot off, it's going to be in my cunt, daddy!" she answered. "I want you to fuck me ... NOW!"
"Yes ... fuck you now!" he moaned as he kissed her passionately on the mouth, his tongue fencing with hers hotly. He started to climb on top of her and she pushed him off. "Let me get on top of you," she breathed.
It was something new, and he wasn't sure he wanted it that way, but, what the hell? Try anything once.
He rolled back on the mattress and Kelly knelt over him, one knee straddling either side of his hips. Her hand was still on his excruciatingly throbbing cock. The purple tip of his lust-swollen cock was pointed directly at the soft auburn curls of her pubic slit, and she lowered her body until the smooth rubbery head made naked contact with her warm, moist cunt. The contact sent a rush of desire through his veins, and he had to fight to keep from shooting his cum up between her legs right then.
The sexy redhead slid back and forth against the head of his cock, rubbing her passion-soaked slit against it and spreading her lips with it until the head was throbbing directly under the hotly waiting hole of her pussy. Slowly she lowered her body, and the pink moist flanges of her cunt rolled away to admit his cock inside leer steaming passage. She was tight, warm and juicy, and her pussy seemed to grasp greedily at his blood-filled penis as it pushed wide the walls of her passion-slackened vaginal passage. Inch by inch, his fleshy rod was sucked up inside her fiery young cunt as she tantalizingly ground herself down onto his throbbing rod. He could feel the smooth wet walls parting before the thickness of his blood-engorged head, only to again clench tightly around the pounding column as it moved further and further up inside her hungrily trembling little belly. Her freckled shapely thighs held him down or he would have thrust upwards to jam his full length into her quickly. She was skewering herself down on his cock so slowly he thought he would go insane, but suddenly, she spread her knees apart, her loins crashing down over his cock to take the whole of it far up inside her burning womb.
"U-uuuggghhh! Oooohhhaaahhh!" she grunted as his prick struck her cervix. She stayed down on his full length for a moment, adjusting to his size, and he flexed his cockhead several times, making her groan. He reached up and took both of her gorgeous boobs in his palms and began to knead them eagerly.
The tight fleshy sheath around his cock was sensationally smooth as Kelly raised herself up. She moved slowly, her butt rising in the air above Troy until just the tip of his rock-hard shaft was left inside the warm enclosing walls of her naked vagina. Then groaning loudly, she dropped heavily back down on him, impaling herself completely. She began a slow grinding motion then, fucking up and down, her hips gyrating in tiny, hardly perceptible circles as she made each long smooth stroke.
Troy groaned out his lust as the pressure in his balls became unbearable. He knew he couldn't last long, there were too many lewd and sensational images whirling around in his mind, residue from the flick. The girl sucking the guy off, Carolyn sucking Neil off, his stepmother's double being tongued by a dog, then getting her cunt fucked, Kelly cumming on his fingers ...
She was bouncing up and down on his aching cock in a faster and faster tempo, her expression one of animalistic lust in the flickering candlelight. The air was close with the scent of sandalwood and marijuana and sex. His cock was buried in her belly as she ground the softness of her buttocks lewdly around on top of him, and he felt her greedily clasping cunt rippling along the full length of his painfully throbbing member.
"Oh fuck me, daddy, fuck me!" she cried as she ground her ass down on his young cock. The great pole of flesh disappeared and reappeared with lewd, wet sucking sounds,as Kelly bounced over his groin. God, it was beautiful, so beautiful! There was nothing on earth as good as being in a beautiful girl's cunt!
His cock was coated with liquid icing from the wetly oozing walls of Kelly's cunt as she fucked wildly up and down on his long rigid pole. Her sensual mouth was open, her little pink tongue darting in and out to wet her red lips - another instrument of sex. Troy could imagine how her mouth would feel around his cock, and he made a mental note to try and get her to suck him next. She was so hot, she'd probably do anything, even a foursome with Carolyn and Neil, which wasn't such a bad idea. Ordinarily, Troy liked his sex very private, just him and a foxy lady. But with these hot boxes, the sky was the limit. Stoned as he was, he could have cared less if Neil and the big-titted broad walked in right at that moment.
He reached for her thighs, working her up and down faster and faster on his near-bursting cock. He couldn't hold off much longer. Her clitoris stood out like a beacon, and he eased his finger around the furred lips and pressed her pleasure button, rolling it around and around. That did it! The lights flashed, the sirens roared and the bells clanged everywhere in the young redhead's body.
"Oooohhh! Aaaahhh ... yeeeessss! Fuuuuck it, daddy! FUUUUCCCKKK IIIIT! I'M CUUUUMMMMIIIINNNGGG!" she screamed as her cunt suddenly contracted around his hotly plunging cock and she rode his cock for all she was worth, taking it as deep as was physically possible.
She flung her head back, her long red hair like a great flame shooting out from her head as her whole body shook and trembled violently with her orgasm. Great spasms seemed to roll from her belly down her rippling cunt to his own sperm-bloated balls as she screamed out her ecstasy.
Troy reached his personal heights then, and he groaned with her as he felt his boiling sperm make the long, headlong dash from his balls up into the length of his cock to splash out of the blood-thickened tip of his penis.
Kelly felt the spastic jerks of his penis as it shot out his cum again and again through the raging head of his cock. Each blast of sperm made her moan in ecstatic response as their combined orgasmic juices swirled deep inside her vagina, then rippled down her hungrily contracting little cunt to spill out with heated gushing over his exploding groin. The white liquid matted his pubic hair and covered his balls before dripping stickily down to the cushions below.
Their rolling climax lasted for what seemed an eternity, Kelly squealing and mewling as her cunt milked ever more hungrily at the still slightly jerking column of flesh shoved deep inside her belly. Finally, she fell sideways, and rolled on her back beside him, gasping for air, a thin thread of his jism still clinging to her sperm-drenched pussy.
Several minutes later, Troy rolled to face the sexy redhead beside him. It had been fantastic, but he was ready for more. He fixed his gaze on her lipsticked lips, intent on knowing the pleasures her mouthfucking could bring him - he had never been sucked off before. Kelly was agreeable, only she wanted him to lick her pussy, just as the dude in the flick had done. (That was a first for him, too, and he found that he actually enjoyed it. In fact, he dug the hell out of it!) Before Neil and Carolyn arrived at the van, they had sucked each other off in a glorious flat-out Sixty Nine, with him shooting his hot cum into the warm moist haven of her mouth. It was fantastic! As a matter of fact, before the night was over, the four of them got it on - and off - at Carolyn's pad, and in every way imaginable. The first rays of morning sun were peeking over the mountains in the distance when they finally said "Goodnight" and split from the ladies.
"Well, that ought to hold you for a while, dude!" Neil said as they drove back to his place to pick up their boards for some early morning surfing.
"Hold me, hell!" Troy answered, his impish grin showing the toothpaste-white teeth, "It only makes me hot for more! Take good care of these ladies, pal. When I get back from up north, we're gonna have a rematch!"
"Up north?"
"Yeah," Troy answered, a tone of resignation and disappointment in his voice, "I gotta see my of man and his bride for a while. We're going up to Tahoe for a couple of weeks."
"Bummer, huh?" Neil queried.
"In view of recent developments, yeah ... unless there's a lady to fuck up there ..."
"No sweat," the lanky youth answered, "foxy ladies are everywhere."
"Sure, but the trick is to fuck 'em with the parents around!" Troy replied. "Besides, when it comes to young ladies, I got my of man to worry about. He's got a thing for young ladies, too, and they think he's the cat's ass."
"So what's the matter with your stepmother? She some kind of dog or something?"
"Are you kiddin'? She's a fox and a half, man! Looks just like that blonde in the flick!"
"Far fucking out!" Neil said with a grin. "What are you worried about then, man?"
"Don't be a smart-ass. That's sick, man, and you know it. I can't ball my of man's wife!"
"Not unless he moves in on your territory," Neil said slyly.
"Naw. You're crazy! Besides, Denise wouldn't let me get within ten feet of her. She's too straight."
"Where's your spirit of adventure, dude? Aren't you up to a challenge?"
"Fuck yes! But not that kind of a challenge! I don't want to get my balls roasted!" the curly haired youth argued.
"Well then, have a groovy vacation, dude. I'll. keep the ladies happy 'til you get back."
"Thanks," Troy said disgustedly, "I'll bet you will!" The trip to Tahoe sounded less and less appealing.
Chapter 4
"Well, Mrs. Yarbrough, have you thought about our conversation of last week," Dr. Berger asked as she sat on deep-cushioned leather couch. She looked particularly lovely he thought.
"Yes. Yes I have, Dr. Berger. There is someone I'm attracted to - though he doesn't know it. But because of our relationship, the idea of anything sexual is out of the question."
The shrink's penis twitched involuntarily in his dark serge trousers. "Don't be too certain, Mrs. Yarbrough. Physical attraction defies the laws of convention time and time again. We can not program ourselves to desire only those with whom we are sanctioned by the obsolete mores of society to desire."
"True, Dr. Berger," she answered intellectually, "but we can limit our sexual involvement to those people." She resented the psychiatrist's attack on her own morality.
He cleared his throat, aware of her resentment. He smiled coyly. "You are quite right, Mrs. Yarbrough. However, you have sought my help because you said you wished to save your marriage, because you wished to free yourself from the shackles of petit bourgeouis Victorianism. I suggested to you an unconventional approach, a radical approach, if you will, to your problem. If you are unwilling to take a step in that direction, then I must assume that you do not wish to rid yourself of your neurosis. It is common, of course. The neurotic clings to his neurosis until he is buried by it, simply because it is predictable, it is known. One can repeat the neurotic pattern indefinitely, without fear of change, without fear of venturing into the unknown ..."
"I don't consider myself neurotic, Dr. Berger, I really don't, and I don't understand why you infer that I am," she answered hotly.
"Then why have you come to me?" he answered levelly, his steely eyes blazing.
"I ... I thought you could help me..." she answered, her voice fading as she realized she had trapped herself. She looked like a lost little girl at that moment, and she knew that what the doctor said was true: she was neurotic.
He waited for her to speak again. The long silence was agonizing. Jumbled thoughts bumped and thudded in her brain. She felt that she was going to cry.
The small man came over to the couch and sat beside her. He placed a warm, paternal hand on hers and spoke to her as though she were his daughter. "I'm sorry I had to be rough on you Denise - may I call you Denise?" She nodded her head mutely, afraid to look at him.
"You are such a lovely woman. You deserve to have all the riches of life, including the full enjoyment of your own sexuality, as well as your husband's. It makes me somewhat sad to realize that because of the ignorance of your parents, you were programed to deny yourself those riches, to feel guilty if you allowed yourself the fruits of your existence. Already you withheld yourself from the pleasure of a man's body until you were thirty-one years old ... now, you do not even give yourself completely to your husband, except when you drink champagne! Why do you insist on punishing yourself so?"
Tears were welling in the big blue eyes. She didn't know the answer. The psychiatrist leaned a little closer. "I ... I feel so guilty, like it's wrong somehow," she said pitifully, then added, "Oh, Dr. Berger, help me. Please help me!"
"I will do my best, Denise. But I shall need your full cooperation. I want you to trust me, to know that whatever I suggest for you is for your good. Will you trust me, Denise?"
She looked at him, nodded her head mutely. She was a helpless waif, and it took all his professional reserve to keep from wrapping her in his arms and kissing her.
"I want you to take off all your clothes, now."
Her eyes widened, she started to protest.
"Please, trust me. I will not force anything upon you that you do not want. Take off all your clothes in front of me, and I shall do the same."
She looked at him with an open mouth. He must be a raving lunatic; she couldn't do that! She couldn't undress in front of her psychiatrist, nor did she want to see his naked body.
"If you can expose your body to me, you can be assured of being one step closer to sexual liberation," he assured her. "I want to help you get rid of some of the ghouls and goblins that torture your psyche. Being naked is the most natural thing in the world. Here, I'll show you."
He got up from the couch then, and took off his jacket. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. He took the cuff links from his shirt and unbuttoned it down the front. He slipped off his shoes and pulled off his socks. She was surprised to see that he was not flabby. His wiry body had good muscle tone.
"Wait!" she cried as he was about to pull down his pants. She was still fully clothed. "You won't try to ... to seduce me, will you?" she whined in her little girl voice.
"Certainly not! My professional ethics forbid it, madame! On the other hand, if you wanted to make love with me, I would be only too happy to comply. You are a most desirable woman, Denise, and that is why your repression is all the more lamentable." He had his pants down and was slipping his undershorts over his boney knees, leaving his genitals fully exposed to her gaze. He did not have a hard-on.
When he was finished undressing, he lit yet another strong cigarette and went around his desk to the big red leather chair and sat down.
"Well?" he said, puffing on the Gaulois.
Slowly she got up from the couch and began to unbutton her dress. She never thought she'd find herself stripping in the psychiatrist's office - she didn't even undress in front of her husband, as a rule. It suddenly occurred to her how foolish it was of her to be so over-modest. Besides, seated in that enormous chair, safely behind his desk, the good doctor struck her as someone comical, a harmless middle-aged man who might have been the family physician for years.
"This person, this man you are attracted to, what is he like?" the doctor queried. She had slipped off her dress and was down to her bra and pantyhose, but she clutched the dress protectively in front of herself.
"I really don't know him that well. I've only seen him a few times..." she offered. He motioned with his head for her to toss the dress aside and she did. Her proud breasts jutted up enticingly from the lacy bra she was wearing. He could see the flattened curls of her pubis beneath the pantyhose.
"Is he attractive?" Berger asked, stroking his moustache with his middle finger.
"Oh yes, he's gorgeous, like his father ..." she said, reaching around behind her to unfasten the bra.
"Oh." came the reply, disappointment evident in the psychiatrist's voice. He quickly rallied with a tone of professionalism as Denise let the bra fall from her magnificent breasts. Berger's cock swelled with interest, but the blonde patient could not see it because the chair was pushed up to the desk.
"Then, he is someone in your family?" he questioned her.
"Yes, my stepson. He's only nineteen."
"Only nineteen is old enough to make love to a woman, to say the least, though the boy undoubtedly has little experience and therefore is not going to be an adequate lover, as a mature, experienced man would be ..."
Denise was rolling the pantyhose down her shapely buttocks and over her smooth thighs. "But don't you see, Dr. Berger, I couldn't allow my own stepson to make love to me. It's too wicked, it's incestuous. Besides, how would I ever induce him to ... to ..."
"To fuck you? Come now, Denise, you surely don't think that the boy is immune to your considerable charms. Any man would want to fuck you, my dear. You know that."
Denise was shocked at the doctor's use of that four-letter word. Why did he have to put it that way? "Really, Dr. Berger, you don't have to put it so crudely," she said sanctimoniously.
His fist came down on the desk unexpectedly. "Gott in himmel, woman, I do have to put it crudely! You have to be made aware of your hypocrisy, your double standard. You have to be freed from all of that, don't you understand?"
She was naked now, standing in the middle of the floor and trembling from his outburst.
"I know what I'm doing, goddammit!" he shouted. "Please give me the beneft of the doubt. Please find it in yourself to acknowledge that I have some intelligence!"
"I-I'm sorry, Dr. Berger. I didn't mean it that way. I guess I'm the one who's not very bright," she apologized.
"You are very intelligent, but stupid - at least, about the fundamental drive in every human being!" he thundered again. "Walk around the room, display your body for me."
She couldn't believe her ears, but she was too intimidated to question the doctor further at that point. She began to parade back and forth in front of him, her face flushed with embarrassment. But oddly enough, after a while she got accustomed to walking around in the nude, and her discomfort was not so accute. In fact, she almost felt a lascivious thrill at exhibiting herself in front of the shrink. She knew she had a beautiful body. Finally, she began to wonder why she had been so reluctant to hide it, especially from Peter.
"You see, it's not so bad, is it? What's so wrong about being naked in front of another human being, even though that human being is a man?" he asked her.
"Nothing, I guess."
"Good! We are making progress. Now I want you to pretend that I am your stepson ..."
Denise flushed again. "Oh, I can't!" she blurted out.
"You can and you will. That is what you want, deep in your heart. You want to make love to the boy. You want him to fuck you, to eat your pussy, to put his cock in your mouth ..."
"No! Please don't talk like that, Dr. Berger!" she begged.
"Yes! I will talk like that, and you will listen, and you will talk like that, too, Denise. Otherwise, you can put your clothes back on and leave and I will not be available to you further." Berger's tone was adamant, and she knew his threat was genuine. He was certainly the most unorthodox shrink in the world! "Come here and sit on the edge of my desk," he commanded her.
As in a dream, the beautiful blonde patient did as she was told.
"Now, imagine - if you can - that I am your nineteen year old stepson. I am naked and sitting in this chair. I have a prominent erection because I want to fuck you..." Denise shuddered involuntarily as the image presented itself to her, punctuated by the doctor's use of fuck.
"... In fact, I not only want to fuck you, I want to eat your delicious pussy. I want to stick my tongue inside and lick and suck until you cum all over my face. What would you feel in that case?"
Denise flushed scarlet again. The doctor was exciting her. The walls of her cunt were oozing their lubrication juices and she squirmed, feeling them run down onto the desk. "I ... I suppose I would be excited. How could I not be?" she answered.
The doctor pushed his chair back. He did indeed have a prominent erection! "Look at my cock, Denise. Do you see what you do to a man? Move to the right, to the center of the desk, please, so that you are facing me."
"But Dr. Berger, you promised not to seduce me!" she protested.
"I am well aware of what I promised, Denise, and I will not seduce you. I told you that I would not do anything you do not want me to do ... which is something else again. But this is your therapy, not mine. And it is your decision whether you want the therapy to continue ..."
His veiled threat frightened her again. "Of course I want the therapy to continue, Dr. Berger. It's only that I don't know how to reconcile the validity of this particular aspect of it."
"That is my concern, not yours. Obviously, you don't trust me ..."
"Oh, I do, I do!" she was quick to say, though in her mind she questioned his intentions.
"Then let us continue. From now on, I shall be ... what is the young man's name?"
"Troy," she answered quietly, feeling a fluttering in her belly.
"Troy. I shall be Troy, not Dr. Berger any more. And you will think o f me and address me as your nineteen year old stepson. Is that clear, Denise?"
"Yes, Dr. Berger."
"No! Yes, Troy!" he boomed again.
"Yes ... Troy." The transition was a little difficult. There was little resemblance between the small man with dyed brown hair and beard and the gorgeous blond youth who was her husband's son. But she was game to try.
"I have wanted to make love to you for a long time, Denise," he began.
"You have? I didn't realize that ... eh, Troy."
"Oh yes! Ever since the first time I met you. Of course, I was only a punk kid then, and I guess I'm still a punk kid in some ways, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Really? I wasn't sure that you really even liked me. It isn't easy to have another woman married to your father I know."
"It is when it's a beautiful woman like you, Denise; although sometimes I wish you weren't married to my dad - it makes it harder for me. If you weren't his wife, I'd go all out to be your lover..."
Another thrill surged through the blonde patient's body. The wetness was building in her pussy walls.
"I'd like that," she found herself saying, "I'd really like that, Troy."
"Then let me be your lover..."
"But what would your father think? He'd be so jealous, he'd throw us both out!"
"Dad's not exactly in a position to cast stones, you know. Besides, he wouldn't have to know..."
Denise winced as she was reminded of her husband's infidelity. In some ways, she had encouraged it, she realized, because she felt so guilty about not being able to give herself totally to him. If she were able, then his playing around would be inexcusable. Unless, of course, she turned into one of those broad-minded, "swinging" adults who made cheating a habit. The whole idea was repugnant to her. It would weaken her marriage.
"What are you thinking, Denise?" the doctor asked her.
"The guilt. How would I handle the guilt?"
"When you understand that your guilt comes from others, from your parents, as their malignant legacy to you, there will not be any guilt to handle. That is what we are working on now, slowly, slowly. Let me touch your breasts, Denise."
"But Dr. Berger..."
"Troy! Let Troy touch your breasts!" he shouted.
"All right! Touch them, Troy! Do any damned thing you want with them, then! What do I care!" she shouted back. She was indignant, and she didn't understand what the psychiatrist was trying to do at this point. It only seemed that he wanted to use her for himself. The shrewd man easily divined her thoughts. He heaved an exasperated sigh.
"No. If you don't want me to caress your breasts, I won't. I won't touch you. I won't do anything to defile your pristine, virginal body. Just sit there and look at me; look at me in the eyes."
She forced herself to look him in the face, to look into his eyes, as much as it embarrassed her. Unexpectedly he snapped his fingers and said, "Sleep!" and she closed her eyes in a hypnotic trance.
He gave her several suggestions to relax her, including some to implant the notion in her mind that she was really facing her stepson, and there was nothing to worry about. She would react naturally, doing what her deepest desires prompted her to do and nothing more. She would not feel guilty about whatever happened, because she was intelligent enough to realize that she was really the victim of her parent's misguided programing, that unwittingly, they had foisted their guilt upon her through their own well-meaning but ignorant intentions. From now on, she was becoming a natural woman, obedient only to her own desires and no one else's. Then he brought her out of the trance. She was still sitting up on the edge of the desk when she opened her eyes again, blinking herself to full alertness. The wetness in her pussy was still there. She didn't even realize she had been hypnotized. The only difference was that Berger's cock had shrunk to a half-aroused size.
The psychiatrist scooted forward again; he was inches away from her. "Do you want me to kiss your pussy, Denise? Do you want to feel my tongue inside your wet cunt?" He made no move to touch her.
"I... yes, Troy. Oh yes!" she answered breathlessly.
Without another word, he placed his hands on her thighs and spread the lips of her pussy apart. His pink tongue slipped from between his coral lips, framed by his matte brown beard and moustache ...
When she had screamed out her orgasm, he pulled her onto his lap and fucked the begeezus out of her. And she loved every minute of it! She was a wild and wanton earth woman, and she shoved her ripe breasts into the doctor's mouth as she rode up and down on his cock for all she was worth, cumming again before he emptied his balls into her cunt. She actually felt that she was with her stepson, and it didn't bother her in the least that they were both naked and engaged in the most uninhibited kind of love-making.
In fact, before she left the good doctor's office, she had already resolved that she would do her best to repeat her performance when Troy arrived from Southern California ...
* * *
Among the passengers deplaning at Oakland International Airport that Friday was a sun-bronzed yellow-headed youth with startlingly blue eyes that slanted upward in his young face. Denise stood in the reception area, her heart beating rapidly. Troy was even better looking than when she had last seen him at Christmas time. It was astounding how much he had grown up in just five short months. He was more a virile and handsome young man instead of a good-looking boy. He looked so much like his father, though he wasn't quite as tall. Yes, she had seen pictures of Peter when he was Troy's age, and the resemblance was remarkable, except that Peter's eyes were lighter blue, and his teeth weren't quite as white and perfect as his son's.
He spotted her and grinned broadly, coming straight up to her and putting an arm around her back for a good-natured hug. "Hiya, Denise. How's it goin'?" he said as she hugged him back self-consciously, aware of the feeling of his broad, muscular chest against her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra today. It was part of her sudden liberation. She didn't need one anyway, her breasts were pert and firm, and Peter had made fun of her prudishness for being an old fashioned girl who was living in another era. Well, no more ...
She thought she had a thousand questions to ask him, but somehow there was an awkwardness between them that she hadn't expected, though she knew what it was. She guessed that Troy wasn't totally enthusiastic about going up to Tahoe, though she didn't press him. She knew it would be a mistake to put him on the defensive. And she could understand that at his age, a trip with "family" couldn't be a thing he was eager for.
"How's the old man?" he asked her as they drove in to Oakland to pick his father up. Peter Yarbrough was working on a deadline for his column - he wanted to write ahead before going on vacation, so that he wouldn't have any pressure up at the lake.
"He's great, Troy," she answered brightly. "Working too hard, as usual. It'll be good for him to spend some time at Tahoe."
"Yeah, well I'm looking forward to it myself. It's been a tough grind at school this year. Can't wait to do some backpacking in the Sierra. Do you like backpacking, Denise?"
"I haven't done too much. I'm a tenderfoot, I guess. But I'd love to try."
"That's the spirit. Maybe you'll join Dad and me, huh?" He was looking at her intently as he leaned against the side of the door, his arm over the top of the seat. Her lightweight cotton skirt was up around her thighs, showing most of her shapely legs as she drove the BMW coupe on the busy freeway. She turned to him and flashed him a quick warm smile, surprised to find him studying her. It almost embarrassed her, but she covered it with a fast remark: "I'd be honored, if you think I can keep up with you."
"I'm sure you could keep up with the best of them, Denise," he offered. For some reason, it made her tummy flutter again.
They picked Peter up at the Oakland Trib, then had a long drive up to Tahoe City - them and three thousand other Bay Area residents who wanted to get away from it all for a weekend, or for the summer. There were cars full of people going to Reno too, to lose their shirts, most of them, at the blackjack table or shooting craps or exercising their right arms on the slots.
Peter's father had had a house on the lake outside of Tahoe City for years. The senior Yarbrough was gone now, and Peter was the legal owner of the spacious bungalow. He was too busy to use it as often as Denise would have liked. Peter traveled so much that he really didn't appreciate the old place as much as someone would who didn't get to go flying to exotic paradises around the world a dozen times a year. They had a beautiful home in Piedmont, the fashionable woodsy suburb of Oakland, high in the hills overlooking the sprawling industrial city. But Denise was not the type of woman who liked puttering around the house all the time. She yearned for excitement and adventure.
They were all silent as Peter pulled off the highway onto the dirt road with the sign hanging from a wrought iron archway that read: Puerta del Lago, Door of the Lake. Denise looked up through the open sunroof of the silver coupe at the towering pines against the azure blue, cloudless sky. The air was clean and fresh, though hot - it was late June, and summer was in full sway in the mountains. Troy was thinking about the possibilities of getting a good piece of ass up here in the mountains. That night with Kelly and Carolyn had made him hornier than he thought possible, and the sun and water and fresh air only whetted his sexual appetites. He always felt hornier in the out-doors. Maybe that's why he dug nature so much.
They got their first close-up glimpse of the lake, which sparkled in the late afternoon sun, as Peter pulled up in front of the garage. They unloaded the trunk and put groceries away which they had gotten at a big super market in Tahoe City. Troy had seen several luscious young things walking around the store, and he made a mental note to drive into town that night and check out the scene. He volunteered to chop and stack some wood before going for a swim. There would still be hours of light, and they wanted to cook out that night. He had only begun the task when his dad came out of the house already changed into his swimming suit.
"I'm going for a swim to cool off! Meet you down there when you get through!" he announced to Troy as he headed for the lake.
"Sure, Dad. What's Denise up to?" Troy called after him.
"Fiddlin' around. You know, whatever women do. She'll be out in a little while," he yelled as he bounded down the beach.
Troy was walking along one side of the house, looking for more fallen branches and dead trees to convert into firewood when he heard the soft humming of a woman's voice wafting out a screened window. He became very silent, and though he wasn't the peeping Tom type ordinarily, something inside him impelled him to tiptoe cautiously to the window and peer in. Denise was in the process of taking off her clothes.
She stepped out of her skirt and laid it on the bed next to her new bikini. The swim suit was a little revealing, and she didn't understand why she had picked that particular one - her other suits had always been very conservative. But for some reason, the shiny black bikini had caught her eye. She admitted that she looked sensational in it, though she wasn't certain whether she wanted to look sensational or not.
Her back was to the window, and she was unaware that she was being observed by her hot-blooded stepson. He felt a little guilty for spying on his stepmother, but he was burning to know what she looked like in the buff. After all, she was thirty-three, a lot older than Kelly. He was curious to find out how Denise compared to the young redhead. Judging by what he had already seen, she compared very favorably. Hell, she was every bit as good as Brenda Boxx, the actress whose face was almost a duplicate of his stepmother's.
As she slipped off her blouse, she half turned so that her figure was in profile. Her full firm mounds stood up proudly from her chest. In fact, they almost pointed up, and the pink nipples looked like cherries on a sundae. Her blonde shoulderlength pageboy covered her face as she reached down to grab the top of her bikini. When she had tied it at the neck and hooked it behind her, she slipped down her panties. Troy's heart was pounding as he shifted his gaze to her smooth, curvaceous buttocks. The twin cheeks were like two softly ripened melons waiting to be squeezed; the crevice that divided them was deep and mysteriously inviting. God!, he thought in rapt wonder, his own stepmother was ten times more sensual- than Kelly or the actresses in the porno flicks, and he found himself wishing that she would turn towards the window so that he could get a good look at her pussy. Her hips flared out smooth from her narrow waist, and he could see that her belly was flat and youthful. He had never.thought that a woman of thirty-three could look so young, so sensual, but the living proof was standing not five feet away from him.
In answer to his thoughts, it seemed, Denise reached for the bottom to her bikini and as she tried to step into it, she lost her balance and fell backwards on the bed, giving him a clear shot of the silky triangle of soft, dark blonde pubic hair that curled from between her thighs. He could even see the lips of her pussy! To make matters worse, or better, she lifted her legs high in the air and sensuously slipped the bikini on from above her head, exposing her whole delicious crevice to his lusting gaze. He could even see the tiny protruding bud of her clitoris! The sight was so exciting that Troy wanted to tear the screen off the window and leap into the room, falling on top of her. He had a passionate longing in his groin, and a hard-on that would vie with any stallion's! Denise's pussy looked more inviting than Kelly's when the redhead had lowered herself onto his cock!
It was twenty minutes later when he finally felt that he had the wood they needed that night, and he was sweating by the time he tore off his clothes and pulled on a pair of trunks. Denise had already gone down to the lake, and he couldn't wait to see her in the water. His heart was still pounding as he ran to the shore fifty feet from the house.
He spotted Denise out in the lake, about twenty yards off shore. He was just about to wade in when he spotted his father walking along the beach with a very attractive young brunette.
For a moment, Troy was puzzled at the sight of his father walking with a strange young thing while Denise was out in the water swimming by herself, but as the two approached, Peter seemed to relate to the girl as someone he knew. And she was.
"Troy, I want you to meet the girl next door. Maggie, this is my son, Troy. He just got home from school. "Hi, Maggie," Troy grinned shyly. "Hi," she answered back.
She was really a cute little trick, Troy thought, as he squinted down at her in the sunlight. She was young, too. Not more than sixteen, he figured. Damn! She probably wouldn't fuck if her life depended on it! Just my luck!, he thought. Her long dark hair was soaking wet and hung straight down from the Weight of the water. Her face was heart shaped and she had a cute upturned nose and teeth that protruded slightly from her well-shaped mouth. The overbite made her look sexy. That, and her big brown doe eyes with the long thick lashes. Her skin was lightly tanned from the sun, and she was wearing a peppermint striped bikini that did nothing to hide her soft delicate curves. There was something innocently sexy about Maggie. She was a Lolita, a little nymphette.
"I thought you'd never get here, Troy," his father chided gently, "What kept you?"
"Oh, the wood took longer than I thought it would," he answered. He turned to look at his stepmother, grinned and waved at her. That was his way of telling his father to get lost. Peter Yarbrough got the message.
"Denise is going to freeze if she stays in that water much longer - unless she has someone to tread water around her," he grinned. "Think I'd better rescue her. See you later, kids."
"Your father is very nice," she said as they watched him wade into the water and swim out towards his wife.
"Yeah, he's an all right dude. How did you meet him?" Troy asked. He knew his father's penchant for young girls, and he was somewhat wary. He didn't want to compete with his old man - and he didn't want him playing around with teenage ladies when he had someone like Denise, a real woman!
"Oh, we've rented the house next door every summer for the last five years. I've seen your father several times, but this is the first time this year," she answered brightly. Troy glanced down at the junction of her firm slender thighs. He could actually see the dark pubic hair under the thin cotton bikini! He wondered if she knew that it was visible. She must. If she did, it didn't seem to bother her. He could even see her pointed little nipples! She had broken out in goosebumps.
"I'm going back to get my towel ... I'm getting cold," she said and turned around.
"Do you mind if I come with you?" Troy asked. He was looking at her neat little ass, so taut and high above her slender shapely legs. "Why not?" she answered with a little shrug of her shoulders.
They walked along the sand making small talk. She asked about his school, he asked about hers.. She was in some private girl's school in San Francisco, a convent school for rich girls. Christ!, just my luck!, he swore to himself again.
"What's there to do around here, anyway?" he asked as he flopped down on the warm sand near her. She was twisting her sexy little body on the towel to make the sand conform to her body.
"Lots, if you know the right people," she said cryptically.
"Oh yeah? Like what?" he asked, his ears pricking up with interest.
"Oh, there's a movie in Tahoe City, and restaurants, and picnics at night on the beachthat's in addition to the day stuff, swimming, sailing. You know," she answered casually.
"Sounds like a gas," he said ironically.
"I babysit sometimes," she said, looking up at him with a strange smile.
"Far out! Think I could get a job like that?"
"Silly. You're putting me on!" she said coyly.
"No joke!"
"Babysitting can be fun, you know, It just depends on who you're babysitting..." She was testing him.
"I could dig that. How about letting me babysit with you?" he said, grinning at her impishly again. The idea was forming in his mind that the chick was giving him an open invitation to be alone with her. He imagined how it would feel to hover over her naked body, his erect cock teasing at the entrance to her haughty little pussy while she squirmed and pleaded with him to shove it inside. Man he'd like to fuck her right there on the beach, in broad daylight! If she would fuck at all, she would fuck back with everything she had, and that would be one hell of a lot!
He could feel his cock starting to get hard again from thinking about fucking her, and he suddenly realized that the bulge in his trunk was beginning to show. "Think I'll go for a swim, I haven't dunked my body yet," he said, getting up.
"Too bad my name isn't John," she said with a devilish grin on her face.
"Huh?" He didn't get the joke at first.
"John the Baptist ..."
"Oh no!" he said, slapping his hand against his forehead. Maybe the kid wasn't so bad after all. She seemed to have a sense of humor, however odd. But John the Baptist made him think of the Virgin Mary, and he hoped to hell she wasn't related by condition to that lady! For lack of a better rejoinder he said, "Whatever's right!" and headed towards the water.
The water was fairly warm at the edge of the lake, even though it was fed by the icy mountain streams that flowed year round and carried melting snow down to the jeweled body of water. Twenty feet out, it would be a liquid deep-freeze, and that condition would remain all summer. He didn't know how Denise could stand it as far out as she was swimming. He looked down the beach. There was an outward curve that made it impossible to see the house or the swimmers beyond, if they were still in the water, which he doubted. But he was used to the Pacific Ocean, and he welcomed a chance to plunge into the crystal lake - it would take care of his erection, hopefully.
He plunged in and started swimming to get the circulation going. The clean, lucid water felt great on his body, though it didn't do much to take away his hard-on. He was splashing around like a porpoise, diving underwater, blowing a stream of water from his mouth as he surfaced. In a little while, he had almost forgotten about Maggie.
Suddenly from somewhere behind him he heard her call, "Hey Mark, Mark Spitz!" He whirled around only to get hit full in the face with a huge spray of water. The war was on! He took off after her and she screamed as he put his hand on top of her head and shoved her under the water. She sputtered and gasped and wiped her long hair out of her eyes as she bobbed back up to the surface. He dunked her again. This time she didn't come up at all, and he looked around in panic. Where the hell was she? He dived down in the water and swam frantically around with his eyes open, looking for the petite brunette. She was nowhere in sight. Damn! He was really scared now; what a dumb-ass thing for him to do, dunking her the second time.
As he was storing up air for a deeper dive, he felt a tug on his trunks from behind ... something was pulling them down off his hips! He looked down into the clear water as he grabbed for the trunks to see Maggie! The little devil, she had been playing a dirty trick on him all the time!
He went down clutching frantically at the only thing that kept him from total exposure. They scuffled under water, and he managed to find the tie to her bikini top and yanked hard. When they both came up for air, her bikini top was floating under her breasts, held to her body by only the tie in back!
"Beast!" she shouted to him in mock indignation.
"Bitch!" he shouted back, a big grin on his face.
They were both treading water, breathing heavily from the exertion their underwater battle created. He was staring openly at her full breasts, whose nipples were crinkled and hard from the icy water. She was close enough that he could have grabbed one of them, but he didn't dare - yet. But it was fairly obvious that she didn't mind exposing herself to him in the least; she made no move to pull her top back up.
"Do you always swim in that condition?" she asked him, eyeing his groin. His trunks were bulging from the huge erection.
"What condition?" he asked teasingly.
"That condition! she teased, placing her palm right on his cock bulge.
"Only when I swim with a beautiful girl whose beautiful jugs are hanging out bare in front of me!" he answered, grabbing one of them in his hand. She didn't pull away, in fact, she moved in closer to him, wrapping one of her smooth legs around one of his. She really wanted it! He responded by leaning down and planting a kiss on the other breast, taking the hard little nipple in his mouth and sucking on it. She put her arm around his neck and pulled him closer to her; he made contact with her mouth, driving his tongue deep inside hers. She was feeling him up under water, reaching down inside his trunks with her small hand to grab his bare cock! Troy was in heaven!
Before he could stop her, she had his trunks down over his ass and his rock-hard cock sprung straight out from his groin! She was exploring him like a , blind woman reading Braille, running her fingers up and down his length, clutching the bloated head and squeezing it hard. - God, he wanted to fuck her right there in the water! He must remember to thank his old man for fixing him up with a hot little number like Maggie.
Thrusting his hips forward, he ground forward to press.the tip of his hard, virile penis against the thin, flimsy strip of cotton covering her vagina, and it slid between her receptively parted young thighs. The tips of her breasts were pressing into his chest, the nipples like tiny buttons of pleasure, and she sucked even harder on his tongue as he swirled it around and around inside her warm mouth. Suddenly, she reached down with her other hand and began to work his trunks down his legs. The water abetted her efforts, and before Troy realized what was happening, she had the trunks off and was diving down in the water to get them. He went after, but she eluded him, and when he looked around again after surfacing, he saw her swimming like sixty for the shore!
"Hey, Maggie! Wait a minute! Gimme back my trunks!" he shouted to her. She was about twenty yards ahead of him, just a little ways from shallow water.
"Come and get 'em!" she shouted back, holding them like a flag in the air and laughing devilishly. It was all too apparent that she had absolutely no intention of letting him get out of the water with them on!
"Shit!" Troy swore to nobody in particular. He swam to shallow water and stood there for a while, pleading with the young tease to give him back his suit. Her answer was to twirl it around in the air on one finger, then put it on over her own bikini bottom! Damn! That turned him on too, the intimacy of that act. She had her top securely tied around the neck, and her breasts looked like grapefruit in a hammock. There was nothing for him to do but get out of the water and take the trunks off of her. himself, by God!
"You're gonna get it now, baby!" he said as he dashed onto the beach. "That's what you think, buster!" was her flippant answer, as she got up quickly and made a dash for the trees. Troy bounded after her, bare-ass naked. Luckily, there wasn't a soul around - he had checked that out before he got out of the water.
Maggie proved to be a great broken field runner, bobbing and weaving and darting behind pine trees. But he cornered her and she made the mistake of dashing out onto the beach again. He made a flying tackle which brought both of them down on the sand, with him on top of her back. She fought like a tigress, but he finally wrestled the suit away from her and leapt to his feet to pull it on.
They were panting like dogs by the time the tussle was over, and he got down on his knees over her, pinning her wrists to the sand. He looked at her for a moment, then gave her a long, hard tonguing kiss, mashing her ripe breasts under his chest. "I want to fuck you, Maggie," he said into her open mouth.
"Tonight ... come over tonight," she breathed back at him, her young chest heaving with passion. "I've got to get back now."
"You mean we can do it at your house?" he asked incredulously, "But what about your parents?"
"I'm babysitting tonight. The house is there, two houses away," she said, raising up and pointing in the distance. "It's the brown shingle one right on the shore. See it?"
He did. "Great. What time?"
"I'm going there at eight. The kid will be in bed in half an hour. He's only two. Come by around 8:30. It gets lonely there when I'm all by myself," she said, flashing him a come-hither smile.
"I'll be there at 8:30 sharp. I wouldn't want a beautiful lady like you to feel lonely ..."
Chapter 5
The cook-out had been a lovely idea. The night was cool and a glorious full moon gave a picture postcard glow to the placid lake framed in tall dark pine trees. The last flames of the fire were flickering under the grate and Denise was busy doing the last of the clean-up chores inside the house. Outside, Peter sat smoking, finishing the last of his wine. He had already had three Scotch and waters before they barbequed the chicken. His excessive drinking bothered Denise a lot.
When she finished in the kitchen, she came back outside to join her hard-drinking husband. "Where's Troy?" she asked. The curly-haired youth had been there when she went in to clean up.
"He had a little business to attend to," Peter said snidely.
Denise put two and two together fast. "Oh? You mean that little teeny bopper you made such a point of introducing him to?" she answered sarcastically.
He flashed her a knowing look, his eyes full of daggers. "Maybe. I wouldn't put the kid down, Denise, if I were you. You might be able to pick up a few tricks from her..."
Oh! That hit home. He had struck at her, womanhood, at her sexuality in the cruelest sort of way, by suggesting that she was no match for a sixteen year old girl. She lashed out at him. "That's your department, isn't it? Picking up teenage tricks?"
He drained the last of his Scotch, threw the glass down and stormed off. "I'm going for a drive. Don't wait up!" he spit out as he staggered to the BMW. He had no business driving, she knew, and she worried about him out on the road in that condition. He could kill himself or somebody else.
"Don't drive, Peter! Please! Go for a walk instead," she pleaded.
"You mean take a hike, don't you? Isn't that what you'd like, for me to take a hike ... permanently?" He was revving up the engine in the expensive automobile.
"No! Of course that isn't what I mean ..." she said. But her words were drowned by the noise from the engine as Peter turned the car around and roared down the driveway.
Tears came to her eyes. She stood there for several long moments as the dust settled back down around her feet. The night was still, except for the sounds of crickets and other night creatures, and once in a while, the soft put-put-put of a slow-cruising motor boat with gaily chattering vacationers. She was lonely. Lonely and confused, She had made a vow that she would be a different woman on this vacation, that she would be the kind of woman in bed that her husband wanted and needed her to be. And now, the very first night, things had gone all wrong. It suddenly occurred to her that Peter would probably still feel the need to chase sweet young things no matter how good she was in bed, no matter how completely she gave herself to him. If that were so, then what was the point of her liberation, except for herself? Well, that was reason enough, wasn't it? Yes ... that was reason enough. If the marriage with Peter failed, at least she would be prepared to go out in the world on her own as a woman without sexual hangups. She was still young; she could find a man, surely, who would find her worthy of his love ...
But she knew that in her heart, she really wanted Peter. She loved her husband, and she desperately wanted for the marriage to succeed.
She paced around the dying campfire like a caged animal, not knowing what to do for herself. The night was still young, only nine o'clock. She had to kill time. She couldn't bear to go inside and read - she spent too much time reading at home in Piedmont anyway, burying her nose in a book in an effort to escape the realities of her existence. It was more like being an ostrich, burying her head in the sand so that she didn't have to see what was going on around her, didn't have to face painful facts. She decided to go for a walk, to clear her mind and hopefully get a perspective of the problems at hand. She knew from experience that she would have a hard time sleeping - the altitude always affected her with insomnia.
Except for the moonlight, it was quite dark. Now and then she would see the lights of a house or another campfire, but it was mainly dark; dark and shadowed and quiet. Very peaceful. Comforting, really. She could cry without fear of anyone seeing her tear-stained face.
She must have walked about a quarter of a mile when she spotted a small house that butted up to the beach, almost an obstruction. There was a dim light on in the living room, behind the open porch, and the twang of an electric guitar punctuated by the insistent thump of a drum. There were other sounds - human sounds; sounds of passion. She was about to walk discreetly past when she heard a sound that was distinctly familiar: it was Troy's voice! Her heart skipped a beat and she froze in her tracks. The next sensation she felt was a sharp pang of jealousy. Troy and that little trollup! Oh no!
If it had been anyone else, she would have smiled to herself and walked on, not the least interested on playing the voyeur. But because she knew it was Troy, she couldn't resist tiptoeing softly up the porch steps and going to the window.
She gasped and clamped her hand to her mouth as she saw Troy "doing it" to that little brunette bitch right on the living room floor! A thousand emotions flashed through her brain, all of them overwhelming. She was riveted to the porch floor, unable to move or to take her eyes away from the violent scene on the braided rug. Troy would never forgive her if he knew she had been spying on him in this most intimate act. Dear God, please don't let him find out!, she prayed silently.
Maggie Gefferson's knees were pressed far back, knees practically touching the ground at her shoulders, and her wide-spread loins were completely open and visible as she bucked under the driving lunges of the long hard penis skewering rhythmically into her open vagina. The dark silkiness of her pubic hair was parted, flared out b,., the thickness of the ramming cock of Denise's stepson, that plunged again and again into the moist pink opening of her tightly clinging cunt. The bud of her clitoris was erect and throbbing, responding to the contact of his groin as he speared deep into her belly, and his balls slapped noisily against the open crevice that divided the smooth rounded globes of her buttocks. When he withdrew, the hard fleshy cock, noisily slick with her excited cuntal juices, would force the tight flesh of her naked young pussy to roll out, then roll inward again as his cock disappeared all the way up inside her. Just below the moist flanges of her cunt was the tiny puckered hole of her anus that seemed to suck and work at the softly dancing sac of his balls as they slammed against it.
The girl was groaning incessantly, her head rolling and flailing ecstatically from side to side, making a tangle of her long dark hair. It was all too obvious how much she was loving it! Denise tried desperately to divert her eyes, but something made leer stare at her stepson's muscular driving young buttocks as he pistoned into the girl's openly receiving cunt. The trim, sinuous cheeks tightened and untightened with the rhythm of his fucking, and she was astounded by the size of his manly young penis. The lust-hardened shaft, now glistening with vaginal secretions, was lined with blue veins that pounded with his excitement, the throbbing becoming more and more intense with each passing second. He was really giving it to the girl, and she kept begging and pleading for more!
Transfixed by the sheer lewdness of the scene, Denise was unable to get her feet to move, to get away from the appalling spectacle she was witnessing - the fucking of that whorish little nymph by her own innocent stepson. To her surprise, she found the lewd naked vision of the two wildly fucking young people very arousing. Her legs felt weak, and she began to tremble as she felt the tiny pulsing bud of her clitoris stiffen with desire. She had a perverse and overpowering urge to reach down between her thighs and touch it with her finger. Her head was spinning with a lusting desire for satisfaction, and she remembered how delirious she was with "Troy" in Dr. Berger's office, when he had sucked her pussy then held her on his lap while she rode his cock to another thrilling climax. She wanted it again, only with Troy on top of her, the way he was on top of that little teenage slut.
"Put your finger in my asshole, Troy!" the girl said loudly as she bucked under his virile, pistoning young cock. Oh no! Surely he wouldn't do that! The words floated out into the calm night air, filling Denise both with revulsion and with curious desire. She stared at the girl's tiny puckered anus with awe as her stepson worked his fingers toward it, finding the clasping, rubbery hole. Slowly he wormed his middle finger into her hungrily devouring little rectum as the girl winced and gasped. Denise was open mouthed as she watched her stepson's sturdy middle finger disappearing into the girl's tiny anal passage while the teenager screamed out her pleasure with anguished sighs and moans. Her loins were being plundered mercilessly by two hard, fleshy instruments at the same time. The lewdly locked young couple were near having an orgasm now, and a shrill cry from Maggie's mouth shocked Denise into the horrible realization that the girl was about to cum! She was, in fact, cumming crazily, and so was Troy. The sudden stiffening of his muscular young body, the way he closed his eyes and gasped, his whole body covered with perspiration, all told Denise that her beloved stepson was sending his boiling cum into the vaginal depths of the young brunette. By an enormous effort of will, she forced herself to walk woodenly down the stairs and onto the cool sand, breaking into a run when she was only a few yards down the beach.
She ran blindly, the tears clouding her vision, so that she failed to notice a large broken branch on the beach and stumbled over it, falling hard to the ground and scratching her leg badly. For a while, she lay there, her head buried in her arms, and sobbed out her heartbreak. She kept telling herself that it was ridiculous - Troy was a free agent and filled with the hot blood of youth. He had every right to fuck any girl who would let him. But she still felt betrayed somehow. And she envied the two .of them because they had found something with each other that she had only rarely experienced with her own husband, the man she loved! It wasn't fair, dammit!
That little teenage whore, acting like a female cat in heat, seducing her pure and beautiful stepson, getting him to fuck her with his gorgeous hard cock. It was a vile display of sexual promiscuity, a cheap stunt by some girl to take Troy away from his family! Worst of all, it had excited her terribly, making her want to stick her own fingers into her cunt. Oh God! She was still on fire with desire, and there she was, all alone. Peter was probably picking up another cheap slut in a bar, getting drunk as a skunk. Even if he did come home to her, he would be useless as a lover.
She got up finally, afraid that someone might come walking along the beach and find her lying there like that. She hobbled back to the house, favoring her right leg. The fire in her own belly only became more intense, even though she desperately wanted to shut out the lewdly naked images in her mind. She couldn't erase the sight of her stepson's lust-hardened young penis, stiff and throbbing, as it hammered relentlessly into the teenage girl's liquid-pink cunt.
She went into the bathroom and took a long shower, wincing as the warm water stung her scraped leg. Then she dressed again and poured herself a stiff drink, going back outside to the glowing embers of the fire. She sat down heavily, realizing that the scene she had witnessed had firmly and irrefuteably marked the reality of her incestuous desire for her stepson. Worse than that, she realized that she had some kind of emotional attachment for him akin to romantic love. How could it be possible? She was in love with his father! Wasn't she? Could a woman be in love with both father and son at the same time? No - it was a stupid schoolgirl crush! Oh God! Thirty-three years old and she had a crush on her nineteen year old stepson!
She drained the glass hastily, feeling the warming glow from the medicinal liquor as it burned into her chest. She went back to the kitchen and poured herself another one, drinking half of it before she refilled the glass again and went back to the dying embers of the campfire. Maybe it wasn't a crush after all. Maybe she was jealous because she didn't have the kind of sexual relationship with Peter that was totally fulfilling to either of them. She didn't know. She didn't understand anything now, except that her body was on fire with lust. Like the girl her stepson had been fucking, she too had strong sexual needs, needs that she had carefully held down all these years. Now she was anxious to have those needs fulfilled - by anyone, even her own stepson! Especially her stepson! That was the horrible reality of it, and it made her feel guiltier than she could bear. She had to drown her thoughts in alcohol.
She walked unsteadily back to the kitchen. This time, she took the bottle in her hand and brought it back outside with her. She had never been much of a drinker, never really liked the stuff much. But she was hellbent on obliterating all those disturbing thoughts from her mind. Peter wasn't the only one who could drown his sorrows in booze!
She lost all track of time as she desperately fought the overwhelming urge to go into the bedroom and lie on the bed with her legs spread wise, to give herself the release she so badly needed, and with her own fingers. Instead, she drank. She barely looked up when Peter pulled the BMW into the garage and walked over to her.
"Well, well, well. Having a few by yourself, eh?" he said, slurring his words. He had grown remorseful as he sat in a bar belting down a few, thinking that he had really been a bastard to his lovely wife. He had come back after an hour and a half, expecting to apologize and make up - and make out. He was totally unprepared to find her in her cups, and he blamed himself for upsetting her, which made him angry at her.
"Two can play the game as well as one," she said, looking up at him hazily. "What's good for the gander is good for the goose ... dear." She wondered if he would catch her double entendre - she was thinking about his sexcapades with other women. In fact, she couldn't get her mind off of sex. Instead, he assumed that she was drinking to get back at him, and that's what the sarcasm meant.
"Issat so? Well then, how's about letting me take a gander at your goose, huh?" he said, walking over to her and lifting up her skirt. She made no move to push his hand away. Instead, she stretched out her long legs and fanned her knees back and forth. "Help yourself, baby, if you can still goose it up!"
Peter's jaw dropped. Drunk as he was, he was still alert enough to be shocked by what his prim, uptight wife had said to him. It was totally unlike her to be so blatant, so crude. He loved it!
She sat there, looking up at him defiantly, daring him to put the meat to her. She was going to show him that she could be as good a whore as that cock-teasing little teenage bitch he thought was so "cute."
He was still open mouthed when she got up shakily, holding onto the arm of the folding chair, and started for the house. A few steps further, she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. She gave him a provocative sideways smile. "Well, big boy, what are you standing there for?" she said seductively through her slur. The shadows on her body made her look like a she-devil, and Peter found his cock stirring with excitement as her sultry sensual voice reached his ears. She was willing and ready to fuck! God, he'd have to get her drunk more often!
She stuck her tongue out at him, wagging it obscenely between her ovalled lips. His cock lurched to instant erectness. He followed her into the house like a sailor called by a Siren of the sea.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When his focus became clear, he saw that Denise was already slipping out of her panties. She still had her dress on, which surprised him. But he was ready for anything. He stretched out on the bed, his arms under his head, to wait for her next move.
She had no idea how to go about being sexy on purpose, though she was naturally sexy anyway, but she wanted to get him hotter than he had ever been. She wanted to prove to him that no juvenile sexpot had anything on her! Somehow, it was more important now than it had ever been before.
She walked slowly over to the bed and kneeled over him, still wearing her dress. Slowly, she began to lift the dress up, further and further, stopping for long breathless moments to tease him. Suddenly her delectable pussy - her bare pussy - came into view. He almost went out of his mind! She scooted forward until the musky sweetness was only inches from his lips. "Lick it, baby. Stick your tongue inside and lick it good. Do it for me, Peter," she ordered him, sliding her legs apart and covering his face with his loins. His tongue shot hungrily into her open pussy, and she jerked upwards with the first nerve-shattering contact. She let him tongue her to orgasmic ecstasy - which took about forty-five seconds! Then she tore off her dress and scooted down his fully clothed body, giving him a passionate French kiss and tasting her own pussy juices on his mouth. She was still on fire!
"I'm going to suck your cock, Peter. I'm going to suck it until you cum in my mouth, sweetheart," she breathed huskily into his face. His look was one of astonishment. Her words were an aphrodisiac to him, the impact of her statement hitting him like a diesel engine at full speed. She actually wanted to suck him off! After all the times he'd tried to get her to do it, and now she was offering, she was telling him! Her hand was on his fly, massaging him through the worsted material.
Seconds later, she was kneeling between his legs, her fingers working feverishly to free his throbbing member. Deftly she worked his penis out of the pants and pulled it free of the restricting clothes.
"Mmmmmmm!" she said, licking her lips. She was playing the role of seductress to the hilt. "Looks good enough to eat ..." Her husband's long hard rod made her hand look small by comparison, and even in the dim light from the moon, the throbbing purple head seemed to glow with passion. She wrapped her long fingers tightly around the base of the thick rod, pumping them up and down slightly to make it grow bigger.
She stared at the blood-filled member, a hazy lusting gaze in her eyes, but her manner was loose and casual and deliberate. She worked her hand slowly up and down, and Peter could hardly contain himself. She was being so sensual, so wanton, he could hardly restrain himself from pushing her back on the bed and fucking her ass off right then. But getting his cock sucked was a rare treat, and he had to have that first.
Denise let out a deep throated sigh as she moved her face close to his pounding cock, finding her new experience more fascinating than she had ever imagined. Then, as if to tease him more, she opened her mouth and breathed hot air over the tip of his penis. Tiny drops of fluid seemed to be nestled just inside the dilated slit, and suddenly she flicked her tongue out, licking in the delicate seminal fluid to thrill him even more. But it also thrilled her. She wanted more!
Her tongue was warm and sticky as it struck his cock, and the dazed Peter Yarbrough had to force his mind elsewhere for a moment to keep from shooting his hotly boiling sperm up into her face right then and there. The sensation flashed down his lust-hardened rod to the base of his groin, then seemed to rebound through his entire body. Her tongue was moist, and she rolled it over her lips as she brought it back into her sensually puckering mouth. Then she again flicked it out at the blood-filled head of his painfully swollen penis. His balls were like huge reservoirs of cum, and he could feel the sperm stirring angrily within, about to burst the walls.
She continued the flicking action for several moments, but then suddenly, she was all over the fleshy column, her tongue licking slavishly up and down the sensitive urethra tube, while her fingers worked erotically over the base of his cock. She was growling like a tigress, her other hand worming into his open fly to find his sperm-bloated balls. She cupped them almost reverently, as though they were fragile and priceless objects, as she planted erotic kisses on his excited penis. It was too much to take, and he had to make her realize that she was going to make him shoot off without ever really sucking him if she kept that up.
"Oh, baby, you've got to suck it now. Suck it, honey," he groaned, feeling the mounting pulsations in his groin. Her long blonde hair was spilling down around her head, the silken strands of her pageboy tickling lightly against his balls. Moistening her lips with her tongue, Denise formed her mouth into a tiny O and lowered her face onto the tip of his pulsating prick. When she made contact, she spread her lips apart just enough to take in the thickness of the column and sucked slowly inward, watching the throbbing cock disappear slowly up inside her warmly welcoming oral cavity. Her lips were tight and sensational, and her tongue swirled crazily around his cockhead as it moved inside her mouth. He couldn't hold still for another second, and he arched his hips off the bed, shoving his cock deep into her unsuspecting throat.
"Uuuuummmmgggghh!" she gagged from the sudden penetration to her throat. But she made no attempt to pull her head back. Instead, she moaned as her tongue worked over the sensitive flesh of his penis like a whip, and he leaned forward on his elbows, enthralled and excited at the sight of her sexy sucking motions. She had taken all of his penis into her mouth and she still held the base tightly in her hand. With her other hand, she continued the slow and gentle caressing of his sperm-heavy balls. Her tongue swirled wetly around the head of his cock, and then she slowly raised her head, nibbling down into the hard flesh as she went. He couldn't remember ever having anything like it, and he was sorry for having missed her sucking him off for so long in their marriage. Denise was really showing a talent that he had only dreamed might exist in her, but more than that, she was showing him something in her nature that had lain dormant all this time. It boded well for the rest of their sex life.
Her head began to bob rhythmically up and down on his lustfully throbbing shaft, her oral fucking sending liquid fire through his loins as she sucked deep into her mouth and blew slowly out again.
"Ohhhhhh... SUUUUUCCKK!" he groaned as he watched her maddeningly sensual maneuvers on his cock. He raised and lowered his hips in time to her bobbing head, watching his hard maleness fucking her roundly pursed mouth. His prick was glistening lewdly from her saliva, and her widely ovalled lips pulled salaciously along the shaft as it slid in and out. Her cheeks were bloated with the full extent of his cock, the rubbery tip lashing the very back of her throat, and he was sure she would choke as she mouth-fucked him on and on in frenzied passionate abandon.
The boiling hot cum in his balls felt like it was going to explode any minute, and he arched his hips up as he lay back down flat to savor the exquisite sensation of her sucking mouth around his balls too, as she paused to suck them into her mouth one by one. The next surprise he got was the touch of her lips to his anus! God, she was sticking her tongue in there!
When she had tongued his asshole thoroughly, she went back to his cock, substituting her finger for her tongue at the puckered brown door of his rectum. The tight sphincter muscle contracted greedily with passion, and she closed her mouth tightly around his aching cock as she suddenly shoved her middle finger right inside his anus! 1; was too much! He knew he would have to shoot off in her mouth soon or his whole body would erupt like a raging volcano. He had thought lie couldn't possibly be more excited than he already was when he saw her hand reappear from his anus and disappear into her cunt!
"God! Oh, suck it, baby! Suck it off!" he shouted at her, the sensations of his body focused at the head of his penis. Her tongue swirled and licked at his ever-growing hardness, while her teeth and lips pulled and sucked up and down the saliva-drenched rod. His balls drew up tightly as her fingers played rapidly over and around them, causing his whole lower pelvis to lift up off of the bed, sinking his lust-tortured cock deep up into the warmth of her mouth. He was there, and lip reached down, curling his fingers in her soft blonde hair to hold her head down on his tingling member. He wanted to make sure she would take all of his fiery white cum into her beautiful mouth, to make up for all the deprivation she had put him through during the two years of their marriage.
Her cheeks bloated out as the seething flood of passion liquid spewed hotly into her throat.
"I'm cuuuummmiiiinng! Keep succckkkiiinnnggg!" he cried, almost pulling her hair out by the roots.
Denise gulped and swallowed as fast as she Could, turned on beyond belief by the thrilling flood of liquid in her mouth and by the taste of his acrid sex fluid. Inflamed by the first taste and smell of her husband's hot male seed in her,mouth, Denise .drove her fingers deeper and deeper up inside her voraciously clasping cunt, finger-fucking herself crazily as she strained for her own release. Before Peter had shot the last of his boiling semen into her mouth, she had cum for the second time that night, her belly spasming with her own exploding orgasm.
Peter drove his hips up, his cock sliding into her widely ovaled mouth again and again as his sperm pumped crazily down her throat and into her belly. The bed groaned under the pummeling force of their mutual orgasm as Denise whined a highpitched scream over his cock.
When she finally raised her head and let his slowly deflating cock slip from her sperm-coated lips, there was a Cheshire cat grin on her face. A thin string of his expended cum dribbled from the edge of her mouth to his cock, and eager to get it all, she swirled it up with her tongue, grinning all the while. Her fingers were still inside the warmly quivering lips of her vagina, and she pointed to his spent cock with the other hand and then pointed to her cunt. "Fuck time, darling!" she said cheerily. He moaned a little, but he was only stalling for time. It wouldn't be long before he was fucking her into ecstasy. He didn't know if it was the booze, or what. But something had come over her, and at a time like this, who was he to ask questions"
Chapter 6
"Hey, Denise, want to go backpacking today" Troy asked brightly when she had finally stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. She had a splitting headache and that gnawing, queasy feeling that marks the alcohol hangover. She squinted against the bright sunlight that flooded the airy kitchen.
"Ooooohhhh!" she groaned, holding her head. She couldn't look at her young stepson. The memory of his fucking that teenager was still vivid in her mind. Remembering her drunken orgy with his father didn't help things either. She had acted like a wanton whore, that was the simple truth of it. Her performance had been shameful and disgusting. The undeniable truth was, she had been herself for the first time in her life, she realized. She wanted to do those vile and disgusting things with her husband. Yes, and she wanted to do them with her stepson, too! She ached for his young cock. She remembered wondering if his cum would taste like his father's as she had swallowed Peter's bitter semen. And it made her feel guilty, so very guilty. Dr. Berger had told her that it wasn't really her guilt, it was laid on her by her parents, right? At this moment, she couldn't accept that theory. She couldn't forget the perfection of Troy's virile body as he hovered over that girl's naked loins, and it filled her with jealousy, and with violent longing for the handsome blond youth. She was so caught up in her own troubling thoughts that she didn't realize Troy was staring at her.
"Got a hangover, huh?" he asked quietly. "I can fix you right up." He got nimbly off the high stool at the long counter and went to the refrigerator, producing a beer and a raw egg. He grabbed a small can of tomato juice and mixed them all together. "Down the hatch!" he said, offering the glass to her. The mixture made her feel more nauseous than ever, and she turned her head away. "No, please. It makes me ill just to look at it," she protested
"C'mon, Denny, it'll make you feel much better. Just close your eyes and chugalug. If you hold your nose, you won't be able to taste it at all."
She reluctantly did as she was told, forcing herself to drink the disgusting remedy until she had drained the glass. She frowned and shuddered violently as she handed it back to him. "Oooooh, God, that's awful!" she said, grimacing.
He was studying her again, scrutinizing her actually, and she couldn't figure out why, until she looked down and noted with horror that her light robe was half way open under the sash, giving Troy a shot of her pussy and half her breasts! She gasped and hurriedly pulled the robe together, drawing the sash tightly around her waist. "Why didn't you tell me my robe was open?" she asked him indignantly.
"Well, it's kind of embarrassing to say to a lady, you know. Like you saying, Hey Troy, your fly's open. Besides, I was enjoying the view. You have a beautiful body, Denise."
Damn! Why did he have to say that? It only made her desire for him stronger. There was a strong sexual current that passed between them in the silence of the kitchen. They both felt it, and each knew that the other felt it.
"Dad's really a lucky stiff," he went on, his eyes never leaving her face. "I'd. give anything to have a woman like you to make love with..."
"You seem to be doing all right," she . said, unable to avoid the reference to Maggie.
"Oh ... Maggie? She's just a kid," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.
"A kid, huh? It seems to me she's trying very hard to be grown up ..."
Troy was getting suspicious. "What do you mean, Denny?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. It's just that, well, - she was certainly coming on strong to you, from what I saw.
"I think she comes on strong to everyone," he said cryptically.
She looked at him sharply. "By the way, where's your father?" she asked, walking over to the sink.
"He went sailing."
"Alone? Why didn't you go along?" she wanted to know.
"Three's a crowd. Besides, I figured you shouldn't have to be left alone," he answered, taking a step . in her direction. The tension was building. "You're alone enough as it is."
"Three? Who ... who did he go sailing with?" she asked, turning and walking over to the sink.
"Maggie Gefferson. She was having trouble with the boat. Dad offered to give her a lesson in hclrnsmanship."
"Helmsmanship! That's a new word for it!" Denise said, blinking back the tears as she stood over the sink fiddling with the faucets. So, after last night, after her award-winning performance as the sheltered-wife-turned-seductress, he was bastard enough to go off with that little teenage whore! It sickened her, particularly since she felt a loss of self-esteem. I guess I'm not such a hot number after all, she mused sadly to herself. Oh, God! What was she going to do?
"Don't worry, Denny. He'll be back pretty soon," he said, walking up behind her and putting his hands around her shoulders. She tensed and started to tremble slightly. "I'm not such bad company for a while, am I?" he said softly.
"Of course not, Troy," she answered, trying her best to retain her composure. Why was he putting his hands on her shoulders like that? Surely he couldn't be interested in ... in doing what she wanted to do ... No. He was just feeling sorry for her, or toying with her, making fun of her secretly. That was it.
"You nccdn't feel obligc;d to keep me company," she said coldly. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I don't need your pity."
Troy was stung. Pity was the furthest thing from his mind, and he was damned glad to have a chance to be alone with his father's wife.
"Hey, Denny, you got it all wrong! I don't know why you had to say a thing like that. That's a little below. the belt." He dropped his hands from her shoulders and walked away. She suddenly dropped her head and burst out in sobs. Her pathetic crying brought him back, and this time he whirled her around and enfolded her in his strong arms, stroking her silky hair and patting her on the back consolingly. "Don't cry, Denny. Please don't cry. It tears me up to see you cry like this." He was furious with his father. What a bastard. What was wrong with the dude, playing around when he h a[1 one of the most beautiful women in the world!
He was intoxicated with the scent of her hiii. her skin. He privately thought that Denise was one the sexiest women he had ever seen. Despite himself, he felt his cock begin to stiffen in his cut-off jeans as he held her in his arms, her warm woman's body pressed close to his, with only the thin robe between them.
He tilted her face up and wiped her tears away, then he grinned broadly at her, trying to cheer her up. The grin changed to a look of intense desire as they communicated with their eyes the longing that each of them felt. He couldn't help himself, he had to kiss her. He had to!
He brought his mouth down on hers hard. She was ready for him, and opened her mouth wide to receive his tongue. Their kiss was long and passionate and she made no resistence when he pushed her thighs apart with his knee, nor when he fumbled for the tie of her robe ...
* * *
That morning Peter Yarbrough had buttonholed his son to get the straight "skinny" on young Maggie Gefferson. He came right to the point. "Howja make out last night with that cute little mermaid I introduced you to?"
"What makes you think I made out, Dad?" he answered, dodging the question.
"C'mon now, Troy. Don't try to con your old man. Like father like son," he chuckled.
"Oh, she's a cute gal, all right. A nice kid, I suppose ..." He shrugged, as if to say he really hadn't gotten too far. He wasn't about to tell his father that he fucked the ass off of her!
"She sure has changed. Used to be a skinny kid with braces on her teeth. Amazing how kids grow up. But you don't seem too enthusiastic about her. Not your type, huh?"
"I don't know her that well, Dad. Maybe she is, and maybe she isn't," he lied, not wanting to pursue the matter further. "I'm going for a swim. Want to join me?"
"Sure thing. Your stepmother had a few too many last night. She's sleeping it off."
It was while they were swimming that Maggie had sailed up, or rather, luffed up. The boat wasn't that big, only a twelve foot day sailer. But she was having trouble with it. That's when Peter gallantly offered to give her a lesson. Troy saw it as an opportunity to spend some time getting to know his stepmother better, so he declined. Peter seemed not to mind at L, l I
In fact, he was overjoyed. Maggie had given him a come-on, he thought, when he had run into her the day before. He wasn't going to cut in on his son's time if there was anything going between the two of them, but there didn't seem to be, judging from Troy's reaction. He would use the opportunity to be alone with her to find out what was what.
Neil wasn't prepared for the teenager's overt invitation to him as they sailed around a little cove on the other side of the lake. She had said the reason she liked Troy was that he reminded her so much of his father! She confessed that she had had a crush on Peter since she was a little girl - she much preferred older, experienced men ... especially when they were soooo handsome!
It was an obvious invitation that was difficult to turn down, despite the wild time he had had with Denise the night before. But that was with booze. And Denise didn't drink, as a rule. No doubt she would be the same prim and proper bitch tonight. Besides, what harm would it do to pick up a little piece of ass when it was being handed to him on a silver platter? The kid was sprawled on the deck of the boat with her legs open, resting on her elbows with her big tits stuck up in the air, just asking for him to fuck her!
And that's how it happened that they found themselves beaching the sailboat and throwing the cushions down in the open cockpit and tearing off their swimming suits for a wild fuck. Only the kid didn't want the conventional banging - she wanted it in the ass! And that's where she got it!
"Ooooohhh! Ooooouuuu! Yeeeesss, daaaadddyyy! Fuck my aaaaasss! Haaaarrd!" she screamed. She was bent over, her elbows resting on the cushions, her ass high, in the air and her nude young breasts swaying and dancing lewdly with the rolling motions of her behind. Peter's huge cock slammed in and out of her tight young anus with tremendous force. He was bent over her back, his arms around her and his hands cupping the ripe titflesh. Maggie was grunting and mewling crazily from the pleasure and pain, ramming her buttocks back against his hard driving cock, begging for more. They were both immersed in their perverted act,; not caring whether anyone saw them or not.
Peter's cock was slamming into the girl's anus with fury, his body covered with perspiration. Maggie was moaning continually, her buttocks moving in circles as she raised her hips up to him. She reached back under her lust-battered body, her hand extended, and she suddenly wormed three fingers into her moistly aroused pussy. She took up his rhythm with her fingers, fucking them up her tight young cunt while her ovally stretched rectum was pounded mercilessly with his lust-hardened cock.
Their fucking was becoming more and more frenetic, both of them groaning and grunting their mutual passion as they neared orgasm, the tight rubbery flesh of Maggie's rectum rolling in and out with the driving, deep plowing shaft of her unfaithful married lover. It was erotically overwhelming, and the young teenage girl felt her own climax coming upon her with fantastic speed. With a low, earthy grunt, she fucked faster into her own cunt with her fingers.
"Ooooouuuu! Aaaaahhhh!" she screamed as she felt a building spasm violently jarring her belly. Never had anything been so wonderful, not with any of the many dudes she had fucked before. This was better, a man old enough to be her father, that's what turned her on the most! She loved it! She loved all of the perverse and vile symbols attached to it. She was getting ass-fucked by that beautiful blonde woman's husband ... that would show her!
"Ooooohhh, yeeesss! Fuuuuck meeee!" she screamed as her body erupted with a cunt-flooding orgasm of insane ecstasy. Her body was. one violently shuddering mass of young flesh and bones. Their bodies were fused together in blinding passion.
"Uuuuuggghhh! Aaaaggghhh!" Peter cried. Ile was cumming, shooting his hot sperm into her tightly clenching rectum with the force of afire hose. Maggie felt the first white hot blast of cum strike her belly like a sizzling bolt of lightning, her lover's cock spewing his sperm deep, deep up inside her rectum, her greedily milking rectum ...
* * *
Slipping his hands inside her robe, Troy cupped the twin trembling mounds of breastflesh belonging to his stepmother, then he teasingly rolled the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He thought she had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. They were perfect. She was breathing very hard, her.body on fire with lust as he bent down to kiss them tenderly at first, then draw them, one by one, into his warm wet mouth.
Denise couldn't stop her hands from going to his fly and eagerly unzipping it to reach in and find his naked cock, the cock he had fucked the teenager with so beautifully the night before. Now, in her fevered hand, it seemed even bigger than it looked when she had seen it plunging in and out of Maggie's wet pink cunt. Troy moaned softly and reached down between her legs to tease the soft curls of her pussy. He slid his fingers along the wetly seeping little slit, finally coming to rest on the erect bud of her clitoris. Denise's legs felt like jelly. She was leaning against the sink, otherwise she might have collapsed from sheer joy. Troy moved his fingers around and around on her wildly throbbing clitoris, faster and faster. She pumped his cock faster and faster in her hand. She was shaking violently as they tongued each other's mouth passionately again. She moaned softly into his mouth as she felt the familiar waves of orgasm building and building in her loins. She felt she should stop him, but she couldn't, she didn't want to. It felt soooo marvelous. So marvelous that ...
"Oooooooh, Troy ... darling, I'm ... I'm cumming. I'm cuuuummmmiiinnng!" Her pussy juices gushed over his teasing, rotating fingers as she came and came, her body racked with a thundering climax.
Afterwards, she hugged him tightly to her, still trembling. His rock-hard cock was still in her hand, and she was still on fire for him, her orgasm only making her want more.
"Oh, oh darling. Now you. Let me suck you off. Let me taste your sweet cum, darling," she whispered to him.
And she did. He stood where he was, so that he could look out the window to see if the sailboat approached, and Denise knelt down, taking his delicious young prick in her mouth and lovingly licking and lapping it with the skill of an expert. He stroked her soft hair as she ministered to his throbbing shaft with her soft mouth and tongue, and he thought again that his father was not only a prick, he was nuts. Any guy who would cheat on a woman like Denise had to be screwed up, a retarded half-wit!
He came in her mouth, filling her with his spewing cum. It was sweeter than his father's - she loved it. She could have sucked him forever, and would have, except that Troy spotted the sailboat heading for shore. He went to his room to get his trunks, and Denise went to the bathroom to rinse her mouth and brush her teeth, but not before they had given each other another long, passionate kiss, making plans to find a way to be together that night. She had never felt more like a woman.
* * *
Dear Mom:
I've decided to stay up at Lake Tahoe for a few more weeks. Hope you don't mind. It's so great here, the mountains are fantastic, and I go swimming and sailing every day.
There are a lot of people my age. And there's lots to do. Dad had to go back to work, but he drives up for long weekends. He has to go on another trip to Europe soon. Denise is a neat lady, and we've become very good friends. (Hope you don't mind.)
See you sometime in August.
Love,
Troy
He sealed the letter and got up from the desk, placing a stamp on the envelope. He walked over to where the beautiful blonde woman was sitting, holding a magazine on her lap. She was wearing a black bikini, which did little to conceal her ample breasts, her narrow waist and gentle flaring hips. Her long legs were crossed as she wrote on a postcard. Troy leaned over her and gave her a long, tonguing kiss, reaching inside her bikini top to squeeze one of her luscious breasts. She responded immediately.
"Hey, cut that out," she said with a twinkling grin. "I can't concentrate on my writing when you do things like that!"
"That's the idea," the youth grinned back.
"I'm almost finished, darling, "then you can take these to the post office."
"And when I get back?" he grinned again, reaching down to stroke her smooth thigh.
"I'll be waiting, my love," she answered, reaching out to grab his stiffening cock and rub her hand up and down the fabric of his Levi's.
"I'm going to fuck you, Denny. You know that, don't you? I'm going to fuck your beautiful little pussy until you scream for mercy !"
"You'd better!" she answered, going back to her writing. On the back of a picture postcard she hastily scrawled a brief but significant message:
Dear Dr. Berger:
You were right, and I thank you. I don't know whether
you've helped me save my marriage, but you've helped me
save me, and that's what counts. Troy and I are both
