When a household brings a strange, young female into its midst, no matter what the intention, sooner or later the males must consider the girl intruder as a sex object. That is a fact of life and a part of the psychology of man. It is only the "deviant" male who does not, at one time or another, consider every passably healthy woman as a participant in sex.
The lib feminists may scream "foul", but it is the truth and words and protestations to the contrary do not change human nature. People are animals. Their basic drives, their basic lives start with being animals with animalistic reactions and habits.
Eating gives pleasure.
Copulating gives pleasure.
Sleeping is unavoidable.
Yet, these three things are the basics of human life. Without them, humanity would cease to exist. Eating and copulating are more refined than sleeping, yet they are basic animal characteristics and the body is born knowing how to reward the mind for doing them.
Thus, it is a normal thing that a man put into close contact with a strange girl will automatically consider sex before he considers her mentality. That is normal.
-THE PUBLISHER
CHAPTER ONE
Fourteen-year-old Alan Dawkins clung to the limb of the tree and watched through the second story bedroom window as his parents got ready to screw. Although they were ancient beyond belief, his view of them through the thin, wind wafted curtain made them look as young and sexy as any of the couples in his father's girlie magazines. While he watched, his hand was inside his pants squeezing his pecker, and his mind was reaching ahead to the time when he'd be screwing some woman a heckuva lot better looking than his mother was.
Not that Dorothy Dawkins was all that unattractive. She was thirty-four years old, five foot four inches tall, and only twelve pounds overweight. She had long, dark brown hair, touched with a few strands of gray, and when it was all brushed and combed it looked very nice indeed. Her skin was very fair, with a few freckles across her nose that belied the fact that she had left girlhood far behind her. She was a serious woman, almost a grumpy woman, even at those times when Carl Dawkins was trying to butter her up and take her to bed for some screwing. She had reacted grumpily when Carl had started fooling around with her in the kitchen that noon.
"Get away and leave me alone," she said, when Carl's big paw took a bite of her soft haunch through her housedress. Young Alan had seen it all.
"Aw, come on. Be a good sport," said Carl. "What the hell you doin' dishes for when you got help coming this afternoon? Relax a while. Live it up."
"Do you think I'm going to have a sink full of dirty dishes here when Mr. Burnside comes with the girl?" said Dorothy, turning on her husband and pushing his persistent hand away again. "He's not going to leave her with us if he thinks we live in a pigsty.
Now quit! Besides, Alan's looking," she said, and plucked at the errant bodice of her old housedress, and cast a sickly smile in Alan's direction.
He set off whistling for the back yard and the tree, knowing his father would win this particular argument as always, but Carl stayed him. "You stick around, boy, and do up these dishes while your momma and I go upstairs alid have a talk about this girl that's comin' to live with us."
"Aw, Mom! Do I have to ? " said Alan, wearing his most put-upon face. "They won't even come inside the kitchen."
"You sure as hell can't bet on that, and we sure as hell can't afford to miss out on the hundred and fifty bucks a month we'll get for feeding and bedding down that girl," said his father. "Get your ass over here and start in on these damned dishes."
"Aw, Mom!" said Alan, screwing his face up so badly it felt as if it might stay that way.
Again his father had intervened, loudly saying, "You get your ass over here and do the dishes, and you, woman, get your ass up those stairs."
Dorothy went on stacking and juggling the huge pile of dirty dishes and grimy pots and pans on the sink, and said, "What if some customer calls while we're up there?
What then?"
"Alan's as good a locksmith as either one of us. He can take care of it. Upstairs, you! Up, up, up!" said Carl, making her jump and squeal and start for the stairs with a steady tattoo of pinches on her full behind. "It's a red letter day and I feel good about it," he said, still driving her on. "We're finally going to get some goddamned help around here, and we're going to get paid for it to boot. I feel good and, by God, I'm gonna feel better. Up, woman! Up!"
Alan had watched them go, had very quickly piled all the dirty dishes under the sink, and was up in the tree before they'd had a chance to get all their clothes off.
Carl was naked and lying back on the bed, watching his wife undress with almost as much relish as his unseen son was experiencing watching from outside. Despite all the sucking and playing in the past fifteen years, Dorothy still had a nice set of jugs. They sagged some, but the big brown nipples sure didn't sag, and her tits looked pretty damned sexy when she was bent over like this, pushing down her dress. Her waist was still fairly slim, and although there was flab around her hips, they had a very womanly shape to them that was now helping to keep his cock in a good, stiff condition. All in all, Dorothy had a better shape on her than the fifteen-year-old girl they were taking in as a foster child starting that afternoon.
Dorothy had seen to that. With all sorts of really knockout young tomatoes at the placement agency, she'd seen to it that they were going to take in a goddamned Vietnam war refugee about four feet tall, with an ass like a lunch bucket, and with no titties at all. Well, thought Carl, stroking his cock and watching good old Dotty strip down for action, perhaps the kid could be trained to come across with a good blow job. In any event, her presence around the house might inspire a hard-on or two. And the hundred and fifty would be damned nice, considering a girl like that could live on a pound of rice a week.
"Take it all off, baby doll, and then bring it on over here," he said, stroking his cock in her direction as an added incentive.
Dorothy was starting to feel at least a little like screwing, but she wanted it over with in a hurry. There was no chance at all of getting the money and the Oriental girl if Mr. Burnside came in and found her and Carl all disheveled and reeking of sex. She was pleased about the result of their long ordeal of paperwork and particularly pleased that they were getting the submissive, hard-working, ugly Oriental girl. And she was ugly, even for an Oriental. So ugly that Carl wouldn't even look twice at her, though perhaps not so ugly that she might look weirdly attractive to her darling Alan once the sap started rising in his young body that summer. And she felt it would start to rise that summer, and if his first hard-on pointed in the direction of that Asiatic midget, Dorothy vowed she'd make a shopping bag out of her hide.
The sap in Alan's body had already started to rise some months ago, and now his curled hand encircled it as he stroked the bone hard pecker in his pants and watched his parents go at it again. He was even close enough to hear them talking as his mother sat down on the bed facing his conveniently placed tree, and his father sat up with his big stiff dick and took hold of her.
"Nice set of tits you got there for an old lady," he said, hefting and squeezing them with one hand, while with the other he massaged her smooth, soft back.
"And that's a nice-sized stiffie you got there, Mister," she replied, getting in the mood of things as she got her hand on his six solid inches of good, thick prick.
"God damn, don't call me Mister and don't look at it like that," he said, suddenly piqued. "You sound like that no-good whoring sister of mine."
"Don't you ever compare me to that tramp!" she replied in equal anger. "What the hell made you think of her anyway? Do you want to argue or do you want to screw? Make up your mind before Alan finishes the dishes and comes poking around up here."
"I wanna screw and so do you," he said, and pushed her back on the bed and began to rub his hands all over the big coarse patch of hair and the blubbery pink lips that hair did not conceal.
Alan didn't think his mother's hair was coarse nor did he think her cuntlips were blubbery. If he thought anything at all in his rapt attention to what was going on, it was that the big stretching triangular darkness between his mother's legs covered all the mysteries in the universe, and that the livid pink stripe running through it was more mysterious still. He almost fell out of the tree in trying to jerk off and look at her at the same time, for in this position she was beautiful, sexy, grossly seductive.
She lay on her back with her legs widespread. Her legs were very pale, the calves hanging over the side of the bed quite shapely, the thighs atop it so soft that they quivered like Jello with the movements of his father's hand. Yet under that softness was strength, showing itself more and more with her twitching and jerking as she responded to the hand between her legs just as Alan was responding to his own hand around his pecker. Her tits had flattened to soft mounds on her chest, capped with those intriguing dark nipples that Alan had once sucked on. Her belly was a lower, smoother mound, but moving with a somehow exciting rhythm as her breathing increased with her growing pleasure.
"Oh, Carl. Oh, baby. Yeah, rub me up, honey. Make me feel good," she said, doing a horizontal shimmy with her hips, and with her tits, and fluttering her hands over their bedspread until she got one of them curled around her husband's cock again.
"Yeah, baby," said Carl, excitement steeply rising in him now. "Doesn't that feel good? Hah? Think how that'd taste, baby. How 'bout a little kiss, Dotty-baby. How'd you like to suck on that big thing, for just a minute. Hah?"
Young Alan didn't know if he wanted to see his mother do that sort of thing or not, but he didn't think of looking away and she didn't think of doing it. She just said, "Aw, honey. Put it in me. I need it bad now. And we don't have much time before Mr. Burn-side shows up with the girl. Oh! Oh, baby. I'm so ready," she said, churning up the bedspread with her ass, moving it counter to the rotation of Carl's hand.
How wet she was! Alan didn't know if she was pissing or what, but he knew she sure was wet. Her wetness glistened all about her inner thighs as Carl's hand rubbed her all around between her legs, sticking his fingers right up inside her somehow, and then using his big broad palm on her hairy crotch. It never ceased to amaze the boy how this sort of thing could transform his mother from the phlegmatic woman she usually was into this agitated bundle of excitement he was beholding. But then, sex had an equally remarkable effect on the state of his body as well, especially the state of his pecker.
"Oh! Oh! Oh, CAR-R-R-R-R-RL!" she cried out in a voice that rose in both volume and tone. "Oh, honey! Feels so good! Do me! Oh, fuck me! Carl, SCREW ME! NOW!"
She threw both legs up in the air, showing her quivering, quaking white buttocks, and the extension of the deep hairy crack between her legs. Alan was bug-eyed watching her, squeezing and stroking his prick and starting to reach that point where it all felt so good he couldn't tell if it hurt or not. And if his hand felt this good, how much better would it feel if he ever got to screw a real live girl? Even an Oriental one!! ! How much better could it feel?? ? .
At this point in their screwing, Carl always rolled around and positioned himself between Dorothy's highly elevated legs in a way that pretty much blotted out the view of the mechanics of what they were actually doing. Oh, it was still hugely exciting and intriguing to young Alan, but he'd never actually seen for himself the real, true insertion of his father's big hard cock within his mother's womb. On this day, however, for whatever reason grownups have for doing things, Carl did it in a different way. Much to Alan's keen interest.
"Get your ass up off the bed and get up on all fours and let's do it like the Cocker Spaniels do," he said, and playfully slapped her and pulled and hauled at her to get her to do as he said.
"Oh, hurry, Carl! Just get it in me. You got me so goddam hot I can't see straight. Stick it in me, lover-man. I love every bit of it!"
She was up on all fours like a dog, in profile to Alan, her big, fat, sexy tits dangling down like bagsful of milk. Her belly hung down and her back was swayed. Her rump stuck high in the air and her head hung down so low that her hair obscured her face, and all in all she was so grossly sexy that Alan was ashamed of himself for thinking the thoughts he had at that time.
His father, in contrast, looked like some kind of an ape. He was up on his knees behind her, grinning and holding his huge cock in one hand, while with the other he dug fingers deep into Dorothy's velvety white hip, as if to steady her for the horrendous insertion of a dick far too large for her little body. Alan watched it all, felt sympathy for his mother and anger for his father and tried not to squeeze too soon.
Alan's horror and his interest grew by leaps and bounds as he saw-actually witnessed-the great big bulbous end of his father's dick push inside his mother's gyrating body. She squealed and squirmed and tossed back her hair, apparently in anguish, though on closer observation her emotion was pleasure, and Carl snarled and grinned and pushed some more of his big thick dong into her body.
At that point Alan frowned, let go of his dick, and reached down between his legs to gingerly touch his asshole. That was where it was done! He'd always thought it was done in a woman's pee-hole, located someplace in the hairy triangle, but now it was obvious and logical and somehow it was very strange that he had learned that it was done in a woman's asshole. Women's assholes sure had to be a lot different than men's he decided, because there was no way in the world that a thing as big as his father's dong would fit up inside his own butt. Queasy with disgust, he returned his hand to his pecker, and as if by magic the queasiness disappeared and the interest returned.
Carl almost always fucked Dorothy in the butt because in his opinion her cunt had become too loose and sloppy for his prick. And because she liked it just as well. Oh, he'd screw her in her cunt on special occasions, like Christmas and birthday, but in their normal, day to day screwing, it was almost invariably in her ass hole. It had started when they'd been worried about having more kids, had continued when Dorothy had gotten used to it, and had proliferated when she got to like it just as much or even better than the old-fashioned way.
He liked it too. It was tight.
He usually did it from the front, lying atop her with her legs high in the air and her tits conveniently placed for his hands to get hold of. He liked it that way also because then he could look at her face, kiss her lips, because she was still an attractive woman to him, despite her advancing age. But on occasion-and this was one of them-he liked to screw her in the ass dog-fashion, because then it was easier for him to get off on the sexual fantasies that a new issue of Playboy or Hustler or Penthouse inspired in him. He hadn't gotten a new mag in over a week now, however, and yet he was screwing his wife from behind. He was kneading her softly commodious hips with his hands and slowly sawing his big dick in and out of her, gazing up at the familiar stained ceiling and listening to the female's moans of deep pleasure, and thinking about all the other girls they might have taken in as a foster child instead of the flat-chested gook kid.
Even the little plump nigger gal would have been better. At least she'd had an ass on her. And what an ass. . . .
And the thin, wan-looking girl with the frizzy brown hair, the one who looked like what they call a speed-freak, she'd have been better yet, with a hot little cunt so tight it could wring jism out of a man's cock before it was halfway up inside her.. . .
That very shapely twelve-year-old blonde with the clear blue very wide eyes, she would have been too much to hope for. Already a perfect ass at twelve, and tits to match! What a fine, firm cunt she'd bring into the house. . . .
And that big, tall, blonde Norwegian looking girl with the jutting tits and the lo-o-o-o-n-n-ng legs. Too much to hope for again, but not too much to think about. . . .
The Puerto Rican girl, with the fiery peppers in her tight little twat, and the need to be tamed by a bull like him. . . .
The curly-topped redhead with the scar on her forehead and the fine little ass that didn't seem able to be held still. . . .
The mulatto girl, with lips specifically designed to fit around a cock the same specific size of the one that was sliding ever faster in and out of the tight, warm ring of his middle-aging wife's ass hole. . . . .
And he'd gotten stuck with the goddamned dwarfy slopehead, thanks to good old Dotty, and even with that there was the monthly money to be thankful for and the much more immediate pleasures of cumming, cumming, CUMMING in the hot hole of his wailing and gasping and orgasming woman and feeling for a moment as if his dick was inside the cunts and the mouths of every one of the abandoned girls they'd seen at the placement agency.
"OH! OH, CARL! YEAH! YEAH, YYEAH, YEAH!"
"NN-N-N-N-NGGH! YEAH! YOU'RE
GETTIN' IT! AL-L-L-L-L!! ! "
And outside, Alan was saying most urgently, "Don't hurt her! Oh! Oh, Dad! Oh, Momma! OH! OH! OH-H-H-H-H-H, WOW!"
Carl was shooting a good, heavy load of jism up inside Dorothy's ass hole and Dorothy was rubbing her gushing cunt and cumming and grunting with him and young Alan outside was stifling at least some of his whoops of masturbatory ecstasy/agony and creaming forcefully inside his jockeys. And down below them all, winding up the hill through the tall green wild oats just outside of town, was Placement Advisor Henry Burnside's two-year-old Ford, with Henry Burnside at the wheel and a very frightened and most non-Oriental girl at his side.
CHAPTER TWO
Ellie Olson was the new foster child's name, and at fifteen she was a real beauty. She stood five foot six inches tall on long, silky legs. Her hips were slim but quite womanly and her buttocks were smooth, prominent ovals. Her waist was narrow and her belly was flat. She had a fine young pair of upstanding firm titties that showed themselves proudly even in the shapeless gray dress provided her by the placement agency. Her face was oval shaped, her lips a lovely soft pink, and her eyes were deep blue. Her eyebrows were a soft, downy tan, her brow was high and her nose was straight. The complexion on her youthfully lovely face was the same as that all over her body,, perfectly clear and unsullied. Her hair was wavy and golden when it was all brushed out, but now it was drawn back into two tight pigtails that hung down her back. She sat with her work blistered hands clenched tightly in her lap as the slight, dapper Mr. Burnside drove her up the rise toward the place which was to be her new home, and she was scared of it all.
It was old and a little run down, but there seemed to be nothing fearful about the small two story house set up on the grassy knoll just outside of town. It had a porch in the front, some out-buildings in the back, a panel truck in the dirt driveway, and a tall bushy tree spreading over the driveway and the truck. Lettering on the truck read Dawkins and Son, Locksmiths. There wasn't a sign of life around the house or the truck as Mr. Burnside drove closer. But then from out of the tree dropped a boy with curly black hair and wildly staring eyes, who no sooner hit the ground before he started running toward the back of the house.
"That's young Alan Dawkins," said Mr. Burnside, as he brought the car to a halt. "He's just a year or so younger than you, Ellie. You two will probably be going to school on the same bus together once the fall semester starts," he said, and gave her a pat on the knee that was meant to be reassuring, but that she couldn't help but flinch from.
Hardly a man had ever touched Ellie Olson until after the death of her mother a month before. She had lived in a small house with her mother all of her life, getting more companionship and education from that lady than she did at any of the schools she went to. Ellie and her mother had lived a happy, serenely tranquil life, existing on a widow's annuity that Ellie's mother received. It was just large enough to provide them the food and shelter and minimal recreations they had, with enough left over for Ellie's mother to be able to quietly drink herself to death. The principal part of the annuity was supposed to have lasted young Ellie through her twenty-fifth year, but somehow funeral expenses and lawyer's fees had taken every penny of it. The sale of their furniture had covered the lawyer's closing costs and at that point Ellie had been taken to the placement agency so that she could be provided with a proper home and a decent family. Still she was very frightened because of the horrid and incomprehensible tales told by the other girls during her brief stay at the agency dormitory. Nevertheless she shed not a tear as Mr. Burnside led her up to the front door of the house, with everything she had in the world either on her back or in the small red suitcase she held so tightly in her hand.
At Mr. Burnside's first knock the door was jerked open and there was a large man with unkempt reddish hair and a huge grin standing before them. Half behind him, still staring widely and grinning as broadly as the man, was the boy Ellie had seen drop out of the tree. Ellie tried to smile back at them, but the trembling of her chin and the misting of her eyes made it almost impossible to do so.
"Well, well, well, well, well!" said the man, his voice booming ever louder. Then he glanced quickly over his shoulder and his voice grew soft as he said, "Mr. Burnside, it's terrific to see you, just terrific. The wife's upstairs, ah, taking a nap and, ah . . . is this our new, ah, daughter? I mean, ah, was Young Duck Foo or whatever-her-name was taken in by some other family?"
"I know you and Mrs. Dawkins will be disappointed," Burnside crisply said, "but Duk Lie Fong's family came to the agency and took her with them. I brought Ellie Olson by to see if you'd like to take her in as a foster child instead."
"Like to? Take her in?" said Mr. Dawkins, grin splitting his face, while the black haired boy behind him bounced up and down in his excitement, and while Ellie's heart warmed to this unexpected welcome from these total strangers.
"Come right inside!" said Mr. Dawkins, and placed a big moist hand on Ellie's arm, and pulled her in his house. "I suppose you got papers for me and Dorothy to sign, Mr. Burnside, and I'm sure you're in a big hurry. So if you'll just, ah. . . . "
He reached for Burnside's briefcase and Burnside drew it away from him, opened it himself, and while Mr. Dawkins wrung his hands in his impatience to officially welcome Ellie, the papers were produced. Mr. Dawkins snatched them up and started for the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, "I'll get a pen. I'll get Dorothy to sign them. You wait right there. I'll just be a minute."
Ellie was starting to feel a little better, but the wait was uncomfortable. The boy was staring at her like some of the boys at school had during this last year when she'd started to grow, and it made her feel embarrassed, because she knew how tall and gangly she was. Mr. Burnside tried to engage the boy in conversation about school and his work as a junior locksmith, and the boy answered in distracted monosyllables while he kept on staring at Ellie. Mr. Dawkins was back almost right away, waving the papers and saying, "Here you go. All set. Dorothy signed them and fell right back to sleep. She ain . . . she hasn't been feeling too good today. Elliemy, what a pretty name-came by at just the right time. She can help with some of the chores, like sweeping off the porch and dusting the furniture. Well, I know you got to go, Mr. B. I know you're a busy man. You come by any time and see how Ellie's doing. Bye-bye."
Ellie felt that the placement man wanted to say something else, but then all at once he was gone and she was all alone in this strange house with the people who had been good enough to volunteer to care for her. Both the Dawkins males were grinning at her now and she felt hot embarrassment creep through her as she stood there with her suitcase clutched before her. They just stood there and stared and grinned, until at last Ellie had to overcome her natural shyness and break the silence.
"Maybe I could. . . make Mrs. Dawkins a cup of tea. My mother always enjoyed that when she was . . . feeling ill."
"Aw, Dorothy'll be okay," said Mr. Dawkins through his grin. "She'll probably be coming down in a couple of minutes to meet you. Meantime you come sit down on the couch with me and we'll get acquainted. Alan, you go see to it that Ellie's room is ready for her."
"Aw, Pop! I want to get acquainted with her too!"
"Get your . . . self to her room!" he said, with such force that Ellie cringed back from him.
"Aw, Pop!" said the boy, and his father raised a fist at him that sent him scurrying and that utterly shocked young Ellie.
Once again the man's mood changed, immediately. He was all smiles again and he took her suitcase from her and sat her down on the couch with him, arm about her shoulders in a most fatherly fashion. He was smiling so warmly that his hand hardly scared her at all when he placed it on her knee, saying, "Well, I sure hope you like it here, Ellie. You sure are a pretty girl, dear, and I hope we get to know each other real good. I always wanted a daughter. And you're such a big, strong, fine girl any man would be proud to have you as his own," he said, moving his hand up from her knee, testing the firmness of her thinly covered thigh.
Fear and embarrassment surged up in her and she tried to push his hand away, and right away he took her hand in his, looked compassionately at the blisters on it, and said, "Oh, you poor little girl! Whatever have they been doing to you at that awful place to give you these blisters?"
"It was my fault!" she quickly explained. "They . . . the matron asked me to weed the yard, and it felt so good to be out in the sunshine that I did too much. She was mad when she saw the blisters I got. It wasn't her fault. They were nice to me there."
"Well, we're going to be even nicer to you here," he said, hugging her by the shoulders, just like the father she'd never had might have done, and stroking her back that had gone all tense on the long drive to her new home. "Yeah, Ellie, we're going to treat you right. I'll see to that. Just like my own daughter. You won't get any blisters here while I'm around. My, such pretty hands. Such a pretty girl. Oh, you're going to like it here."
No one-except her mother, of course-had ever told her she was pretty. It felt nice, especially after the maelstrom of being moved from one place to another since the death of her mother. Mr. Dawkins' hands felt nice too, soothing away her inner tension, petting her like a cherished kitten, just being close to her. He didn't smell nice, though. He smelled of sweat and something else she couldn't identify, and though the smell wasn't nice, neither was it exactly repulsive. Just a man's smell, she supposed, and one that she could get used to as she became his foster daughter and he and his good wife cared for her as if she was their own. She thought she'd be happy there, she knew she's be happy thereuntil Mrs. Dawkins made her sudden shrill appearance.
"Just what the hell's going on here!? ! Where's the Oriental girl?! ? What are you doing on the couch with that . . . that girl?! ? " she said, dark eyes blazing as she entered the room, grinning son right behind her.
Mr. Dawkins got his hands off Ellie in a hurry, rose to place himself before the irrate woman of the house. He said, "Dotty, the gook girl's folks took her back home with them. This here is Ellie Olson. I couldn't help what they gave us. She'll work hard. See how big she is?" he said, and stood aside from the timidly cowering girl, letting his wife glare darkly at her.
She looked at Ellie's titties-right at them!-and then down at her loins in a most shaming way, and she said, "Yeah. She's big all right. And she's going right back to where she came from!"
"It's too late!" he said. "The papers are all signed! She can't go back now. Aw, Dotty, it'll work out all. . . . "
"I didn't sign any goddamned papers!" she shrieked, though Ellie, cringing back, knew she had.
Mr. Dawkins imposed his big presence before his angry wife and said, "She's staying, woman, and that's that. But we're not gonna argue about it in front of Ellie. Alan, take her to her room. No, on second thought, don't."
"Damn right he's not going to take her to her room!" said Mrs. Dawkins.
"Aw, Mom!" said Alan.
"Find some work for her to do while we talk," said Mr. Dawkins. "After all, that's all she's here for," he said, and managed to wink surreptitiously at Ellie through his angry scowl.
"She could do the dishes!" Alan piped up.
"I thought you already did 'em! Never mind. Take her in the kitchen and start her on the dishes while your mother and I have ourselves a little talk."
Away Ellie went to the kitchen, where a mountain of dirty dishes was produced from under the sink. The 'little talk' going on in the living room was quite loud and angry, and she knew very well that she'd be going back to the agency after doing this one chore for the Dawkins family. She hated to leave them. The boy, now seated at the kitchen table and still grinning broadly at her, wouldn't be missed by her. Mrs. Dawkins might be nice when she wasn't angry, though at the moment Ellie wouldn't miss her. But she would miss Mr. Dawkins, the first man who had ever said she was pretty, and that he wanted to have her as his daughter. As she did the work with her sore hands in the hot water, she wished she could stay there and get to know and like all of them, for it would break her heart to have to go back to the agency over any reason at all, especially one that she couldn't even understand.
The argument raged up and down in volume while Ellie worked. After a while Mr. Dawkins came in and reached up into a cabinet beside her, his closeness warm against her side, and pulled down a bottle. "A little cherry cordial always calms her down," he softly said to Ellie, and his hand accidentally brushing the swell of her thinly covered buttock brought the weirdest sort of warm chill running through her.
They quieted some in the living room after that. The boy they called Alan still kept sitting there watching her and making her nervous as she dried the dishes and tried to put them away in their proper places. His hands were crossed over his lap and he rubbed himself there from time to time, never letting his gaze roam from her, never offering to help her.
At length he sighed and said, "Boy. You sure got 'em."
"Yes," she demurely said. "I think I've got them all put away in their right places now. Do you know of anything else I could do here?"
His broad grin turned broader, and he said, "I know something you could do over here."
She walked to the table, blandly said, "Yes, Alan?" And he drew his hands away from his lap and looked down at it, expecting her to do the same.
She saw nothing amiss, except that he had a jack knife or a pen light in his pocket, and when she asked again if she could do something, he said, "Yeah. You could sit down on this."
"What ever for?" she said, and started to back away.
His hand came out and caught her wrist. Despite the fact that he was smaller and probably weaker than she, she became frightened and tried to twist away.
But he held her hard, and there was an ugly urgent whisper in his voice as he said, "Come on! Sit down on it. They do it. We can too. Come on. don't you wanna . . . screw?"
"No!" Ellie squealed, and twisted away from him. She really was frightened of him now, for before she'd thought he was just retarded, but now she saw he was dangerous, there was a hateful glow in his eyes as he came at her and his hands reaching out at her looked like claws. He was backing her up into a corner and if she'd gone ahead and panicked he would have caught her there. But then at the last moment she bolted for the door with him right behind her.
"Wait!" he said, voice all full of ugliness, claw touching her shoulder, then ripping the back of her dress as she yelped and rushed out through the door, into the sunshine and off into a world of strangers, anywhere but away from the boy who was right behind her.
CHAPTER THREE
With long legs like hers, Ellie knew she could easily outdistance the boy gone mad. But she was being hampered by her torn dress, and her panic rose in her flight as she heard his racing footsteps thumping behind her. She ran through the back yard and past the outbuildings into a field of thigh-high wild oats, and the tall grass further slowed her down. Ahead was freedom and at least temporary safety, and Ellie's first goal before her searing lungs collapsed was a copse of trees where at least the grass was shorter. She never made it. With still fifty yards to go to the trees she was tackled from behind and rolled into a ball of flying skirts and arms and legs and coarse greenery. She was too winded to scream, but still a big hand was clamped over her mouth and she looked up to see Mr. Dawkins lying half atop her grinning down at her.
"Hush, honey," he panted. "It's okay now. We just lie still here and they won't find us till Dotty's cooled down some."
Already she was calming down, and his warm reassurances were further soothing her, but still he kept his hand over her mouth as he said, "What'd that boy of mine try to do to you? Did he try to cop a feel? Honest to God, the way kids are nowadays, still and all, I can't really blame him. You're such a pretty thing," he said, and his hand eased away from her mouth, touched the racing pulse in her throat, and warmly squeezed her shoulder.
"He came at me! I didn't know what he was going to do!" she said. "If I'd known it was you behind me I wouldn't have . . . "
"Hush!" he harshly whispered, for the voice of his wife could now be heard, slurred by still as angry as before.
"Carl, you bring that girl in here! You hear? I got a switch and I'm gonna take it to you both, I swear I will, unless you show yourselves right now! Carl! CARL!"
They heard her ranting and raving back and forth across the big open field, with Alan beating the tall grass along with her. "Calm down and be still and they won't find us," said Carl, chuckling, and then his big hand went down to cup Ellie's left breast-very thoroughly-and a look of concern came over his face and he said, "God, your little heart's just going a mile a minute. Poor thing, it just ain't right for a gal to be so scared as you are. Easy does it. I got you and you're safe now. Everything's going to be okay," he said, massaging her chest. He was a rock of salvation to cling to while danger lurked all about them in the tall grass.
The sun was warm and so was his hand. Ellie knew if she just lay perfectly still and put herself in his hands, everything would be al right. Mrs. Dawkins was making terrible threats about skinning her alive, and Ellie jut lay there, arms flung back, finding vast comfort in Carl's massaging hand and in his confident smile. He was quite old enough to be the father she'd never known and thus she felt safe and grateful to him. He knew how to touch her and hold her, too, to add to her feeling of security.
When her left breast was all warm and soft again and when her heart had stopped its wild pounding, his hand moved downward to still more of the fluttering in her body. The angry voice of the woman and the distracting shouts of the boy continued, and Mr. Dawkins could help her ignore them as he spoke to her softly, loving-
"Yeah, you're such a pretty thing. You just stick with me, be still, and you'll be safe. Nice, strong, young body. She's liable to kill you with that switch if she finds you, but you keep still and everything will be all right. Such long, strong legs I could hardly catch up with you," he said.
His big right hand was massaging her legs now. They were bare, because her skirt had flown up high when he'd tackled her to save her. "Strong, smooth legs, so soft and white. It'd be a shame to see 'em all striped red from that switch she's got. Such a pretty gal, I can't get over it. And you got a grass stain here from where you fell on your shoulder," he said, and laid his whiskery cheek her shoulder, bared from the way Alan had torn her dress, and even his whiskers felt good.
"Quiet now!" he whispered, for Mrs. Dawkins and Alan were very close, on either side of them.
She didn't have to he told. She lay as still as a fallen leaf, flattening herself further against the matted quilt of grass, while he lay half on top of her, protecting her with his body and his hands. One of his hands was around her shoulders, the other was now softly clutching her between the legs, where she felt she'd wet her panties if she was found and whipped so unmercifully. His cheek lay against the soft sensitive upper swell of her left breast now, and the movement of his breathing and the fear in her had her niple up hard and extremely sensitive. His fingers moved too, softly kneading her shoulder, even more softly kneading the tensed mound of her pubis. She was starting to pant in her excited fear and she knew Mrs. Dawkins could hear her labored breathing. She felt hot and feverish from it and wanted nothing more than to throw her arms about Carl Dawkins and forever be safe in that security, but still the only movement between them came from his hands and his lips, on her shoulder and her breast and between her legs.
The voices and the brush-beating passed on. Ellie sighed with relief, and Carl's hand slipped further down between her legs as he raised up to cautiously look arund them over the tall grass.
She started to raise too, for she felt very restless, but he pushed her back down, saying, "Stay still, honey. They'll be back, and we can't face old Dotty till she's calmed down some. I got you. You're safe. Oh, look. Your pretty dress is all torn."
She knew it wasn't pretty, but it certainly was torn, and he took his hand from her crotch to pluck at it and pull it down from her shoulder to inspect it better. "You got skin like white satin," he said, and peeled down her bra strap there. He kissed her shoulder in her growing protective affection for her and she lay there submissively, trusting him fully, while his big right hand smoothed itself up and down her side, squeezing her willowy waist and kneading her buttock and thigh, going between her legs again to massage her slightly perspiring thighs and cunny. The search was going on far away now, by the trees, and Ellie could relax a little and feel wonderfully safe and free from all her recent anguishes.
"You got grass stains on your little bottom too?" he said, squeezing her slowly relaxing fanny again. "Roll over and let's see. We're safe for a minute."
She did as she was told, and she didn't mind and was hardly embarrassed at all when this very good man lifted her skirt all the way up and inspected the backs of her legs and her cotton covered bottom, both with his eyes and with his hands.
He patted her and squeezed her and stroked her there while she snuggled her glowing body against the warm earth. Her titties and even her cunny felt all tingling and strange, and it felt extra good to snuggle these parts of herself against the fragrant greenery under her, while Carl's big hand explored the small of her back and the backs of her thighs and the smooth oval mounds of her fanny.
"God damn, you really got a body," he murmured. His profanity embarrassed her, but his flattery was wonderful. "You still a virgin? you ever been laid?"
"L-Laid?" she murmured. "You mean, with a boy? Oh, no," she said. "I wouldn't do that."
He chuckled and squeezed her bottom and said, "We'll see about that. Are you ticklish?" he said, and immediately his fingers changed from instruments of reassurance to devices of tortuous delight.
The danger around her was completely forgotten as Carl tickled her into delightedly helpless giggling. In her ribs and under her arms, those obviously sensitive parts of her body, were only starting places for a man of Carl Dawkins' fatherly experience in tickling a child, and in minutes he had Ellie's body in such a condition of giggling sensitivity that everyplace he touched her had her writhing anew.
Her dress tore further as she thrashed abut in the tall weeds, responding uncontrollably to each movement of his probing fingers. He chuckled along with her gigglings, finding and using ever new areas on her body to delight with his roughly wonderful hands. Now she hadn't a care in the world as she squirmed and writhed and giggled against him in the warm summer sun, while he plucked at her titties and played with her ribs, pushed fingers in the crack of her fanny and tickled her cunny till she thought she couldn't stand it.
In desperation she drew a deep breath and gasped, "Stop! Carl, stop or I'll wet my pants!"
"Oh, you have to go, do you?" he said, and concentrated his tickling efforts down there. "Do you have to make a wee-wee, honey?" he said, and slipped his hand down inside her panties before she could do a thing to stop him.
"Oh, don't! Please!" she begged, hugely embarrassed by it now, but still giggling even as his big fingers moved all around the wetted lips of her prim little cunny. "I will wet myself if you don't stop!"
He was panting softly too, and his face was flushed red from the sun and from their tussling in the grass. His fingers were moving more slowly but more deeply against her cunny, all swollen with her need to urinate, and now some big hard thing in his pants that she knew she was afraid of was being rubbed against her hip.
He murmured, "You can't hold something inside of you forever. We'll both take a pee pretty soon. God damn, you really are a pretty thing," he said, quite serious now, and hot embarrassment rose all through Ellie's young body. The bodice of her dress was torn and one of her titties was completely exposed. Her skirt was up around her waist and her panties were down around her hips, her shoes were both gone and this man she'd just met and come to trust had his fingers on her naked cunny. He was looking at her in a way that made her wonder about the relative dangers outside of their nest in the grass. But still she lay there, not moving because she didn't know if she should, and letting the good feelings seep through just because it had been so long since she felt good at all.
Ellie gave a start as his finger touched some part of her cunny just too sensitive to be touched. She murmured a weakly delirious protest and did try to move away then, even tried to cover up her bare titty. But her purred his words of reassurance and she became submissive again, and able to stand for and almost enjoy it when he touched her that way again and again, slowly and gently.
"That's right," he purred. "You know I'm going to take good care of you. I'm your friend, and you're my best gal. I just want to make you feel good, all over, all the time," he said, and he licked his lips and his smiling mouth descended toward hers.
She murmured a little moan and felt her whole body try to reach up to him. His strong arms went around her and helped it along, and though his mouth was hard and big on hers, it felt wonderful to be kissed with such pure, deep affection as she'd never before known in her life.
Ellie writhed against him in an ecstasy of pure, innocent intimacy. Her arms were around him too and she clung to him, desperate for this moment to live on forever. The big hard thing in his pants was against her belly now and she couldn't be afraid of it. His right hand hoisted up her left leg over his, grasped her by the fanny and pulled her wonderfully hard against his strength, and she moaned through the heavy kiss and tried to squirm even harder against him.
He was rubbing her cunny from behind now, fingers pushing through the thin cotton crotch band of her panties. She was now perspiring so much down there that the cotton crotch band was all slick with moisture and felt more like satin than cotton against her warmly squirming cunny.
Panic suddenly had hold of every part of Ellie's body. He shouldn't be touching her like that and she shouldn't be lying on top of him, letting him kiss her. She said, "Please don't! We should go back! I should go back to the agency! Your wife doesn't want me here!"
"But I want you here and you're gonna stay," said he, easily holding her closer as now she tried to squirm away from him. "God, you're a pretty thing. You and me are going to have such good times together. Firm young titties and smooth skin and a gorgeous little ass and a tight little virgin's cunt that's just itchin' to feel my prick in it," he said, and the full horror of what he was doing struck her, and her struggles in his bear-hug increased.
"That's it, baby!" he said. "Rub that hot little body against my cock! God damn, it's almost better than fucking. Rub it up against me and I'll cum real good for you."
"No! Let me go!" she cried. He just laughed and dug his thick fingers deeper into the thinly covered softness between her legs.
"Let's get rid of these," he said. He caught a big handful of her damp and twisted panties, and ripped away their crotch band and half their seat.
His finger went right inside her cunny then! Ellie would have screamed for help and taken the beating from Mrs. Dawkins then but he was hugging her so hard she couldn't breathe and she was panting so fast she couldn't speak.
He had his finger in her hole and she couldn't stand it! She was weeping and struggling wildly, and wave after wave of frighteningly dizzy feelings were sweeping through her. Ellie couldn't hold still if she'd tried. She was grunting and gasping and squirming on top of him and he kept right on burrowing the big end of his finger in the portals of her hole and saying awful things to her, things she didn't fully understand but which seemed to be adding to the spiraling feelings throughout her churning body.
"Oh yeah, you like to get finger-fucked. Such a sweet, pretty, horny virgin. You'll like getting my cock in you even better. That is one tight cunt you got, Ellie, and it sure does feel wet and nice. Feel that big dick up against your belly? That's going to be inside you before the day is out, and you're going to really go nuts then. Yeah, rub up against it, honey. Oh-h-h-h, that really feels good! I'm gonna show you all there is to know about fucking, and you're gonna love every bit of it. Beautiful titties and sweet little mouth that's gonna love sucking cock. I'm gonna have a taste of your twat too, and I'm gonna show you how good it feels to be fucked back here, too," he said. Ellie's horror and panic and dizziness rose to unbearable heights as he plunged his finger, all wet with her cuntal perspiration, right up her fanny!
"Don't! Please! Can't stand it!" she gasped, fully out of control now and quite ineffectual in her strugglings.
The widely squirming finger went in still deeper in answer to her pleas. Doubling and even tripling her frenzied panic, another was pushed back in her cunny. Every part of her now was concentrated on escaping from them and the mad, mad itching they inspired, but she had no coordination at all other than to churn her naked bottom around and pant against his whiskery throat.
"Yeah! Oh, yeah-h-h-h-h!! ! " he moaned, and Ellie was suddenly much more aware of the long hard thing pressed against her squirming belly.
He was pushing it against her in hard, stabbing rhythm and he had both hands around her hips to hold her right where he wanted her. His fingers were doing shocking, unbelievable things to her two crotch holes, and now the base of his hard thing was rasping through his pants at a part of her that itched more fiendishly than anything else.
"Uh! Uh! UH-H-H-H!" She groaned, in unison with the waves and waves of dizzying pleasure, yes wonderful pleasure, that now swept through her. She was rubbing that part of her crotch against his hardness as hard as she could. The fingers roiling inside her were things of magical beauty, no matter how disgusting they were. It was like kissing a toad and having him change into a prince, she wildly thought, as glorious things happened everywhere in her and he shoved and squirmed right along with her, urgently, even moaning with her until at last his magical hands relaxed on her and he sighed deeply and lay still.
"Yeah, you're gonna like it here," he said, and she lay shivering warmly on top of him, frankly basking in the residues of those tremendous feelings she'd been so afraid of at first.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mr. Dawkin's big chest heaved in a sigh and he rudely rolled Ellie off him onto the matted grass. He sat up and said, "Whew! Best dry fuck I ever had in my life. You're quite a gal," he said, and pinched her bare fanny in a way that hurt and made her jump, but that sent another hot tingle through her too. She lay there trying to figure it all out as he got up on his hands and knees and looked around over the tall grass.
"I guess old Dotty's gave up and went inside," he said. "That damn Alan's probably still out beating the bushes for you, but I sure don't see him. We better go on inside and get it over with. But first we better take a piss, eh?"
On his knees, facing her head on and grinning, he unzipped his trousers and reached inside. Ellie blushed, but she couldn't help watching him. There was a wet stain on his pants where the big hard thing that she'd felt against her had been, and now she was almost ill with a strange desire to see what that hard thing actually was.
Then he flopped it out, a limber thing hardly bigger than his finger, with a sticky wet eye in the middle of its utterly weird looking pink knob. She knew it was his penis, but she wondered if she'd just imagined it being big and hard or if he had something else in there along with it.
"Ever see a man piss before?"
She shook her head, not wanting to see it now, but unable to turn away from it.
He sighed and she jumped when it started to spurt its urine. He chuckled and she drew back when he waved it around and the stream of yellow spattered close to her bare foot. "God damn, that feels good," he said, and Ellie suddenly realized just how badly she had to pee, and how squirmy and warm she felt while watching him do it. It finally slowed to a halt, and then she felt several quick, dizzy rushes of inner sensation when he made it squirt and squirt till it was empty.
"You better take a pee now, honey," he said. "We're liable to run into a long argument when we get inside the house."
She was blushing and feeling feverish as she weakly said, "Not when you're watching. I just couldn't."
He laughed and said, "After all we've been to each other? You watched me, didn't you? But if you're shy, go ahead and turn your back. I won't look."
She really had to go. And if Mrs. Dawkins caught her and took that switch to her she'd surely wet her panties. If she had any panties. They were in shreds. The whole crotch ripped out. She pulled what was left of them up instead of down, her torn skirt too, as she got her back to him and squatted disgracefully over the warm, fragrant wild oats. It was something she'd never have dreamed of doing in front of another person, but then everything that had happened to her in the past month was as unreal as this was.
As badly as she had to go, it wouldn't start at first. Then when it did it came in a rush of hot pee and wonderful relief. She felt the relief all over her body-until Mr. Dawkin's big hand slid down over her ass and up under her crotch.
"D-Don't!" she cried, but he was already doing it and he wouldn't stop. He was squeezing her crotch and splashing her hot pee all over her crotch, and though she didn't understand it at all, those wonderful hot waves of pure sweet sensation were coursing through her again.
"Nicest, smoothest ass I ever did see, and your piss is probably sweet as orange juice," he said as he cupped and kneaded her gushing crotch. "I'm gonna fuck that till you walk bow-legged, and to hell with Dotty, and you're gonna love every minute of it," he said, as the feelings got to be just too much, and Ellie toppled forward onto the grass, still peeing, feeling everything inside her go bursting.
"Don't! Please don't!" she gasped, writhing on the grass, trying vainly to clamp her trembling legs together, while Mr. Dawkins went on chuckling softly and working his hand between her thighs. She couldn't stop it, and by the time her bladder was empty she was all wet and exhausted and utterly humiliated, but feeling too languorously good to move.
He got her up, though. He hauled her breathless to her feet, torn wet skirt and panties flapping around her, and he kissed her hard on the mouth. Her titties throbbed madly against his hard chest and everywhere his rough hands touched her, she pushed back against them. His tongue pushed in her mouth, shocking and choking her at first, but then making her feel all soft and gushy inside again as she accepted it, even sucked on it. Then he swatted her hard on the ass, this big rough wonderful man, and said, "Let's go face the music, honey pot."
The tall weeds whipped around her bare legs as Mr. Dawkins led her by the hand toward the house. He walked swiftly and she had trouble keeping up with him, feeling so kittenishly weak. Her clothes were in rags and she was all grass stained but there was no way to stop and straighten herself out for she had to keep going with this man who was the only friend she had in the world, and more.
Mrs. Dawkins was glaring at them with unbelievable hatred in her eyes as they approached the back door. And young Alan was still grinning his foolish grin from over her shoulder. She started to open her mouth but Mr. Dawkins held up his free hand and said, "I had a helluva time catching her, but everything's okay now. She's going upstairs to take a bath while we talk it over. Ellie, use the bathroom in the first bedroom to the right at the top of the stairs. Just help yourself and take a good tub bath. You're one of the family now."
"We'll goddamn well see about that," said Mrs. Dawkins, and Ellie slunk past her and her son and scampered up the stairs, bottom scarcely protected at all by her torn skirt and panties.
The bath was absolutely wonderful! She couldn't refrain from going along with what Mr. Dawkins had said and helping herself, and now she basked in deep hot water all covered with scented bubbles. It eased away the hundred little aches and scratches all over her body and even let her think that somehow Mr. Dawkins would make everything all right with her in his household. She dared to visualize herself being warmly accepted by Mrs. Dawkins and going to school with young Alan when summer was over. She even let herself think that there might come a day when Mr. Dawkins would take her in his arms and hug her again and make her feel so unbelievably wonderful. And Ellie lay back and thought about Mr. Dawkins' strange little penis, and how it had peed for her and how much bigger and harder it had felt when it was inside his pants.
She hadn't been in the bathtub for very long at all when he startled her by walking right into the bathroom with her. He was grinning broadly down at her as she crossed her hands over her titties and tried her best to conceal her nudity under the thick bubbles. To add to her consternation he started taking off his clothes, saying as he did, "You're as pretty as a picture in there, Ellie. Everything's fine with Dotty and you're going to stay. I'll tell you all about it when I take my shower." He was naked by then, and Ellie was gazing wide-eyed up at him, hairy and huge and powerful looking, with his big sack of testicles looking even more weird than his dangling penis. He stooped and picked up her clothes, wadded them up and stuffed them in the waste basket, and said, "Might as well get rid of these. We'll get you some new, if you're a good girl."
She cowered under the bubbles while he sang and splashed in the shower stall. Was nudity an everyday thing in the Dawkins' household? Should she get up and cover herself with a towel and try to find something to put on? She lay back in confusion and before she could do anything he was out of the shower stall and grinning down at her again, and she tried to smile back at him.
His penis seemed bigger somehow, from what she could see of it before he wrapped a towel around his middle and stood before the basin to shave. She'd never seen a man shave before and that was almost as interesting as what she'd seen of his penis. He shaved and said, "Yeah, everything's gonna be fine around here. If Dotty or Alan bothers you, you just let me know. I'm taking you under my personal wing and seeing that you have the best of everything, as long as you're a good girl. You're really gonna like it here," he said, and washed the last of the lather from his face, splashed after shave on it, and turned to kneel by the side of the bathtub.
"Are you all clean and sweet?" he said, and his hand plunged down through the bubbles to close over one of her breasts, and she stiffened all over. Including her nipples. "Yeah, you're really a nice girl, and we're going to be really good friends," he said in a warm and friendly voice, while his fingers gently pulled at her stiff nipple, making her cheeks blush and her nipple further stiffen.
"You sure got nice tits," he said, up to his wrist in bubbles while he liberally felt of both of them, much to Ellie's paralyzed embarrassment. "You don't mind me playin' with them, do you? Of course you don't," he said, before she could even catch her breath to answer. "I'm a tit man," he incomprehensibly explained. "But then I'm a leg man and an ass man and most of all a pussy man, too," he said, laughing in his rough, friendly way, and adding to her squirming embarrassment by running his hand down over her tummy and hips and legs.
He tickled her knees and made her splash water and bubbles. "Don't!" she weakly tittered at him, but he just laughed and went right on.
"Why not? It feels good. Kitchy-koo! And we're supposed to be friends, aren't we? Now, open up your legs, honey. I'm going to tickle your pussy. Come on. Open up. You gotta do what I say if you're gonna stay here. And it feels good. You know it does. Open up, honey. Relax. That's a good girl."
Ellie relaxed as much as she could and lay back panting, either from the tickling or she didn't know what. Her fists were clenched at her sides and her legs were open, knees pinkly protruding from out of the bubbles, while the grinning Mr. Dawkins eased his big, thick finger right down through the tensed wet slit between her legs. Back and forth it went, tickling madly but somehow not making her want to move. She was terrifically sensitive there, more so than she'd ever been in her life before, and that sensitivity was growing, spreading with the deliberate wormings of his finger.
"Feel nice?" he said. "Hah? Sure it does. And I like doing it for you too, honey. It feels just lots better when somebody else does it for you. You be a good girl and you'll never have to do it to yourself again. You been doing it a lot? I bet you have, big healthy girl like you. How often, hah? Every day? Couple times a day? And then some more when you're all snug in your bed at night. Oh, that does feel good! How often have you been playing with this sweet little cunt? How many times a day do you frig yourself? Hmmm?"
"Never. I never do. Mother said.. . . OH!" she said, as his finger touched and worked on that very, very sensitive spot down there.
"Never?" he said, working it with two fingers now, making it quite impossible for Ellie to hold still in the tub. "If you never did it's about time you started. I'll teach you how. I'll teach you how to have all sorts of fun," he said, and slipped his finger down and into her hole a little ways, making her jump so that her titties came partially up out of the suds. He pinched a nipple most accurately and drove her back under, and then he laughed and laughed as he tickled between her legs and pulled and played with her titties till she was gasping and squealing and splashing water right out of the tub. "You better come out of there before you drown me," he said.
Completely flustered and breathless, she said, "No. You shouldn't be looking at me."
"Aw, I've seen all you got before," he said, and reached down and pulled the plug.
It was useless now to stay there, but still too embarrassing to get out while she was being so closely watched. She stayed where she was, hands over her titties, trying to flatten herself in the tub, and when there was only suds concealing her she tried to quickly get up and get past him to the towels.
He caught her, dripping and draining bubbles, and he ran his hands up her slippery legs and hips and buttocks as she stood in the tub. She was naked as the day she was born, but with much more to hide, and he knelt there before her and put his hands on her and said, "God DAMN, you're a pretty thing. I might even adopt you."
Her whole body was tingling and seething with the residues of his tickling, and now she had to stand there while he took a towel from the rack and rubbed her dry. As he did it she couldn't help but see that the towel knotted around his waist was sticking up in front as if a stout, short pole was under it. It became far more apparent when he stood up to dry the top half of her body, talking to her and telling her how pretty she was. Even though she knew better, it was nice to hear him say it. In a way it made her feel almost as good inside as his warmly rubbing hands were making her feel outside. It brushed against her hip and felt very stout indeed when he helped her step out of the tub, still trying to cover her nudity, still failing.
"Sit down here on the side of the tub, honey," he said, and pulled her down beside him. He was breathing just about as heavily as she was, and his towel was still being pushed up. "Yeah, you got a really fine set of tits," he said, handling them liberally now and easily pushing aside her weakly protesting hands. "Really a pair of rising young beauties, with just about the prettiest, pinkest nipples I ever saw," he said, and the dizzy but weirdly good feelings in her soared as his big rough hands hefted and squeezed and did delightful things with her titties.
"Yessir, a fine, healthy body," he said, stroking her tummy and squeezing her hip, caressing her pink, flushed thighs while she tried to hold them together and keep from squirming.
"Open up. Lemme see your pussy," he said, trying to push his hand right in there.
"D-Don't," she said. "What if your . . . your wife comes? I don't think she'd like this."
"She won't bother us. I guarantee that. Open up," he said, and he would have pried her legs apart if she hadn't given in to his wants.
She was practically panting. She was terrifically embarrassed and couldn't even look down at her naked, lightly furred crotch, and what his hand was doing there. All she could do was sit there and get even more breathless and embarrassed and feel his warmth close beside her and see that big thing under his towel.
"Feel nice? Hmm?" he said, with his fingers moving through her little slit and over that very sensitive spot.
"I don't know. I . . . I just don't know," she said, though even his other hand, squeezing her bottom, felt weirdly good.
"You knew in the tub. It felt good there," he pointed out.
"But you weren't. . .looking at me then," she murmured.
"Well, you're looking at me too," he said. "You keep looking right at my pecker. Would you feel better if you saw what you were in for?" he said.
He pulled aside the towel and she saw it and gasped. His thing had taken on the strangest change she'd seen in anything in her life. The fat, limp worm had changed to a big, upright pole, with a ruddy red knob on the end and a thick shaft that was all gnarled and marked with blue veins. It was straining up at her from out of its hairy base, so hard that it was pulling the sack of his testicles up with it, and Ellie stared at it with mixed awe and dread, of what she did not know.
"You look like you're afraid of it. There's no need for a girl to ever be afraid of a man's cock," he said, still running his hands over her legs and between them, and squeezing and kneading her fanny. "A man's cock is a beautiful thing. Every girl needs one. And you got yourself one, right here," he said. He took her resisting hand in his, and curled it around his thing.
"It's so hot!" she exclaimed.
"And hard!" He moved her hand up and down on it.
"But the skin's soft. Like velvet!" Ellie said, most fear past her, but interest rising.
He put her other hand on it, too, and she examined it in both of them while he leaned back grinning and fondling her fanny. She hardly felt that and she hardly missed his hand between her legs, so great was her interest in what he called his cock.
She prodded the ruddy knob of it with a forefinger, looked up at him in wonder, and said, "This part is soft! But the rest is so.. . hardr
He sighed deeply and squirmed on the rim of the tub and said, "Yeah. Mm-hm. You got nice little hands, too. Take it in both of them, honey. Work it up and down a little. Oh, yeah. Honey, that's real nice. It feels just as good as when I play with your cunt."
Ellie didn't like that word at all, but she hardly heard it now, so great was her interest in his cock. She noticed how it was affecting him, much as she'd been affected by his hands, and she took a glowing pleasure in being able to do this for him, and to him.
She did it a little faster and he said, "Easy, baby. I'm not circumcised and if you get too rough with it . . . Whew! Yeah. Yeah, that feels real nice. Slow and easy. We got all the time in the world. From now on. Yeah-h-h.. . . "
"Circumcised?" she said, still stroking that fascinating part of him, feeling warmer and more friendly to him by the moment now that she was having a turn to make him feel as dizzy and weird as she had.
"I got no foreskin. Like, say, Alan has. A foreskin, that makes it easier to jerk a guy off, but a cock without a foreskin-like mine-that's the best kind for fucking," he said, and suddenly threw his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth.
He was pushing his tongue in her mouth and squeezing her bursting titties, and Ellie felt like she might faint with the sudden excitement of it all. He kept squirming around and pushing his cock through her hand, and in spite of all her excitement she kept stroking it up and down. Now his hand plunged down between her legs and she moaned with the achingly good feeling of being played with there, and forgot all about playing with his cock any more.
He reminded her by working her hand up and down, then reaching back for her pussy. He broke the kiss and panted hotly against her mouth, saying, "Come on, baby. Can't quit now. Jerk it off and get all that good hot cream out of it. And cum, baby. Cum for pappa," he said, fingers on exactly the right spot and working it over relentlessly, wonderfully, while she jerked off his thick hot cock with complete disregard to whether it had a foreskin or not.
"Oh! Oh, Mr. Dawkins! Oh, oh, oh-h!" she cried, jumping all around on the porcelain rim, almost falling into the tub, as the sensations she'd felt in the field returned tenfold, and continued to build.
"Carl. Call me Carl," he panted. "And cum, baby. Cum, cum, cum with me-right now?'
"Car-r-r-r-rl!" she growled, like an animal, and her hips were suddenly all out of control, just as they wanted to be, and her fanny was jerking and squirming wetly on the porcelain rim while the good, good feelings peaked and soared, peaked and soared, and he moaned with her and gushers of hot, thick cream came flowing out of his cock.
It came right out of his cock! Just like the wetness she then realized was coming out of her pussy. And it came and came, hers did, and she moaned and squirmed and clung to him and said his name, even after the cream from his cock stopped flowing and was all over his cock and her hands.
"Uh-OH!" she cried, as his finger suddenly stabbing in her hole brought forth a dazzling explosion of good feelings, and she still felt them when he was chuckling and sighing and rubbing his cupped hand all over her saturated crotch.
"Oh, Mr. Dawkins!" she panted, all atingle, absolutely everywhere in her body. "Oh, Carl! That was . . . ! What happened?? ? It was even . . . more than out in the field!"
"That's 'cause you're just gettin' warmed up to it, honey. And you still got a long way to go. And I'm gonna be there to show you the way to go, all the way. God, you're a pretty little thing!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Ellie knew she was neither little nor pretty, but she actually felt she was both those things as Carl Dawkins hugged her and squeezed her on the rim of the tub and spread her slick wetness all around between her legs. She had no idea how she'd let him touch her like that, and no idea why she or someone else hadn't done it before.
And she was still in a daze from it all.
He helped her get up and sat her down on the toilet seat, all weak and boneless as she'd seen her mother when she'd been drinking a little too much. She looked at him for several seconds at the sink before she realized he was washing his cock, and that it was getting small now. And that she had his cream all over her hands. She felt all dirty then, with the wetness between her legs and the goo on her hands, but she still felt good, wonderfully so, and she wondered if she really should feel that good.
By the time he dried his cock it was all soft and limp again, and her interest was aroused again in a different way. There was little of the mad excitement she'd felt, only deep fascination, and she stared at it as he stood before her and offered her a towel.
"Here. Dry yourself off some and then let's go in and lay down and, uh, rest," he said.
She wiped her hands, but still she could feel his cream on them. She primly used the towel on her pussy, found it swollen and still very sensitive, but now she wasn't so embarrassed to have him looking at her. After all, she was looking at him, and now he looked as harmless as he could be.
"How do you . . . make it go up and down like that?" she said. "Before it was big and now it's little. How do you do it?"
He chuckled and rumpled her damp blonde hair and said, "It's you who does it, not me. When you're nice t. . . when you're a good girl, it gets nice and big for you to play with. And, uh, kiss," he said, inching closer, sa that she could smell the aroma of his cream, even penetrating through the after-shave he'd used.
She wrinkled her nose and said, "Kiss it? People kiss those things?"
"Yeah. It's great. Women kiss pricks, suck on them too, and men kiss pussies. At least some of them do. I might even kiss yours, it's so goddamned sweet and young. But yeah, lots and lots of sexy gals like you kiss guys' cocks. They love it. It makes 'em even sexier. And, you know, a man's cock gives a gal so much pleasure, it's almost her duty to give it a nice warm kiss. Right?" he said, and came closer still, cock in his hand now and lifted so its shriveled pink knob, marked with his drying cream, was right on the level of Ellie's mouth.
"Kiss it," he said, and she did.
Her face darted forward and the girl touched her lips to it. It was soft, warm, yielding, and it had that weird sort of scent to it that, like garlic, one might get used to. She looked up at him expecting his approval, and when she saw his smile so warm and loving, she kissed it again, even touched her tongue tip to it and tasted it before she shrank back against the commode, bashful and shy again, with hands creeping up to cover her naked titties.
"Yeah, you're gonna be fine," he said. "Just fine."
He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, and his big strong body, naked though it was, felt good against hers. She kissed him back, wanting more than needing to please him. He said, "Let's go lay down a while, honey-pot," and she giggled and said, "I guess I do feel a little tired."
"Young girl like you tired?" he said as he led her from the bathroom to the bedroom. "Hell, you could go all day and all night and all fucking week, young girl like you. But me, I'm getting old and I got to lay down and rest in between times. You know? Then I'll be ready to go again."
"Yes, you should rest," she said, but he didn't look as though he needed a rest. His eyes were bright and he was smiling as he threw back the covers on the big double bed, and his hands were still on her naked body as much as they could be.
"Yeah, I'll just lay down and take a little rest," he said, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "While you fuss around and do girlie things and I watch you," he said, and playfully bit her hip, which brought back a surge of memory about how good she'd just been feeling. "You sit at Do.. . at the dresser and brush out your pretty blonde hair and do things, and I'll just lay back and look at you. And you'll see, my cock'll get all big and hard again," said he, and snorted his hot breath right between her legs and made her squeal, then slapped her loudly on the bottom and propelled her toward his wife's mirrored dresser.
Ellie's hair was a mess. She saw that the moment she sat down on the soiled, cloth-covered bench. She also saw that her eyes were shining as brightly as Carl's had been, and that her titties indeed were as swollen as they felt. Their nipples were bigger and pointier and far pinker than usual. The underswells of her breasts looked very full and taut. The upper slopes were blushing pink. And all of them stood proudly up in a way that made her think she'd never have to wear a brassiere.
She sat up proudly as she brushed her hair and looked at herself, her pride at least partially coming from this wonderful man who'd showed her the way to so much pleasure, and who was looking at her with such concentrated admiration. She smiled coyly at him through the mirror. He smiled back still, playing with his cock, which was still soft, but perhaps showing signs of its fascinating ability to grow, and grow and grow and grow!, and then to provide them both with such delirious minutes of such crazy good fun.
It was shocking and shameful. But Ellie liked it. She'd never have imagined herself doing such things, sitting there like this. But she'd engaged in just about every kind of sex possible-including kissing his penis-and she was still alive and well. In fact, very well.
She could still taste the flavor of his prick. Why had she stuck out her tongue and tasted it like that? She could still taste his tongue and feel his hands on her body and recall how crazy good she'd felt, but try as she might, she couldn't summon up those entirely crazy feelings when they'd been sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and pushing together in the sunny field.
But it was still very warm and sunny outside and she felt wonderful, just wonderful, naked or not. In a way being naked helped her good feelings, because Carl sure did enjoy looking at her that way. Gee, she thought, that's probably why women wear clothes all the time, so men wouldn't always be looking at them like that and not getting anything else done. But it did feel good to be looked at that way, and she didn't know of anything Carl was supposed to be doing. She sat up straighter, titties up more proudly, and beamed at him in the mirror. She impulsively blew him a kiss, and he broadly winked and licked his chops and pulled at his stiffening cock. She felt beautiful and mature in his eyes and felt she'd fallen in love with him.
"Let's see some more of that ass," he said. "Wiggle it around."
She blushed from her face cheeks to her ass cheeks, and she squirmed her bottom on the bench, hoping the dirt on it wouldn't come off on her.
"Get up and let's see it," he said. "Stand up and shake it around."
How could she possibly do such a thing? How could he possibly ask it of her, unless he thought she was sort of pretty back there-or unless he felt a kind of love for her too.
Ellie stood up and let him look at her fanny, and the grin on his face and the licking of his lips made her blush but feel good. Remembering what he'd said, she waggled her hips, and she felt better still when he said, "That ass of yours oughta be cast in marble and put in the Smithson Institute. Put your hands on it. Grab hold of it and show me how soft and nice and smooth it is. That's right. Oh, that's great," he said, as Ellie reached back and touched the smoothnesses he was leering at and moved her flesh around for him.
Her titties felt even harder, their nipples even stiffer as she stood there feeling her fanny with both hands while he looked and played with his cock. "Bend over and spread those cheeks and show me more," he said, and she somehow did, feeling even more blood rush to her hot face cheeks as she doubled over and tremulously drew her buttocks apart, letting him look at her cunny, and yes, even at her pooper.
'That's gotta be even tighter than her fucking pussy," Carl muttered, cock all stiff and hard now as he rolled his eyes around the room, looking anywhere but at that gorgeously presented butt-and developed a huge menacing scowl as he looked out the window.
He was up off the bed at once, shouting, "You little bastard, get down from there!"
Ellie squealed in alarm and tried to cover herself and crouch down, seeing Alan in the tree too now, and terribly ashamed of having been seen by him. Carl Dawkins was ranting out the window, throwing ashtrays and alarm clocks and magazines out of it, while outside Alan was shouting, "Mom! Mom, they're naked up there!"
"You'll be naked too! I'll snatch the hair off your head if you don't get in that truck and get your ass to work, boy! AND NOT A WORD ABOUT THIS TO ANYBODY OR YOU DON'T GET YOUR TURN WITH HER!" he bawled, loud enough to be heard back at the placement agency.
He slammed closed the curtains and turned with a shrug to Ellie. His cock had gotten soft to some extent. She timidly raised up from behind the bench, hands over her private parts again in her fresh embarrassment. He said, "It's all right. He's gone." He flopped himself down on the bed, the master of his household, and he said, "On with the show. But bring it on closer."
She came forward toward the bed, looking fearfully from the closed bedroom door the curtained bedroom window. He patted a place beside him on the bed and she got up on it on her knees, not knowing if he wanted to look at her front or her back now, but he solved that problem in a hurry. He reached between her legs and touched her pussy, made her gasp, and he said, "Now lemme see you play with those tits. Good Christ, they're nice ones."
She knew they were bigger than normal for a girl her age, but she didn't know how nice they were till she started really playing with them. And till he started really looking at them. She played with them and played with them, molding them to any sort of shape she thought might be appealing to him, and she appreciated their beauty more and more as she did so. And as his fingers continued to move between her legs.
She knew by then what doing that did to him, and she certainly knew what it did to her. And so spread her knees wider on the bed, giving him full access to her cunt, and she went on playing with her tits and simply glowing with pleasure from his hand and his eyes on her.
Ellie was getting all wet down there, but he didn't seem to mind. Now and then he'd reach up and give one of her amazingly responsive nipples a playful tweak to add to her pleasure, but then again his hand went down below and his fingers returned to tickling and tingling and wetting her cunt.
It was beautiful. She was beautiful. All that could have made it any better was to feel herself being hugged to his strong body, to feel his big naked cock pressed warmly and lovingly against her tummy. She loved him. She was sure of it then. Nasty wife and retarded son and all, she was in love with this man and she'd do anything he ever said.
"Lean forward and gimme a taste of that," he told her, and that was the easiest thing in the world to do.
He came forward too, and when he touched his tongue tip to her cunt-right at that supersensitive place-she thought she'd turned into a skyrocket for a moment. He tickled all around it with his tongue tip, holding her cuntlips open, while she knelt over him and gasped and panted so that she couldn't declare her love for him. Just as well, she thought, when he leaned back licking his lips, for she loved him enough to never interfere with his marriage, and to always secretly please him in every way.
"Yeah, it tastes like cunt," he said. "But good. You'll have more of that. Women go nuts over it. Whenever you say-if you're a good girl with me-I'll jam that little bastard Alan's head down between your legs and make him eat you till he drowns. Mmmmmm. That sure helped get you wet, honey-pot. And you know what that's for. It's for fucking," he announced, and he pushed that wonderful thick finger up her hole farther than he ever had before, until it met with some yielding, itching obstruction up there that Ellie knew was present but really hadn't ever thought would leave her.
"Jesus Christ, a cherry," he said. "I thought I felt it before, but it sure is there now. We'll have to take care of that," he said, touching and touching it, making her wince with the slight pain of it, still mingled with pleasure. "Won't we?"
"If you . . . want to," she murmured, still knelt before him, trembling even to her titties with strange fear, but yearning with every part of her for him, and every part of him. She glanced again at his cock, stiff and hard now to its fullest extent, and she knew he was going to use it on her. She knew it would hurt too, because sometimes in her mother's drunken ravings she'd talk about that sort of pain. But Ellie knew she could stand it and not turn into an alcoholic like her mother because of it.
"Lay down beside me, baby. God, that's a nice cunt. Just lay right down and relax, and we'll get on down to business."
She lay there rigid at first, waves of trembling sweeping over her. But he calmed her with his wonderful hands, excited her at the same time, and eased away the fear of terrible pain she had-at least for the moment.
His stiffened cock lay across her thigh and his hands were roaming all over her body along with his loving gaze, returning again and again to her pussy, to her cunt that would soon be taking him in and hurting for it. She knew this, if she knew nothing else.
"Nice and wet," he purred, like a lion. "You know what that's for? To help me get inside you. But we got to get you wetter though. And me too," he said, and heaved himself over on top of her, overwhelming her with his bulk, and settled down between her legs.
The underside of his thick cock pushed hotly against her wet slit. It didn't feel as hot as before, but only because her cunt felt as feverishly hot with fear as his cock did with his love for her. "Get it nice and wet. Get both of us wet," he said, sliding it forward and back with slow movements of his powerful hips, spreading Ellie's lubricating cunt-juice through her slit and up and down his cock.
"You're really gonna like this," he said.
She knew it wasn't true, that he was just trying to be easy with her with his words. But heavens, it did feel good when she felt the ridge around his cock knob slip over her supersensitive spot.
"You're a beautiful girl and you deserve a good fucking," he said, easing his thing through her slit, mashing his hairy chest against her titties in an absolutely wonderful way that helped to calm her, that made her almost want to feel him closer to her still.
"You first time out and you're never gonna forget it," he promised her, and she knew she never would, for the fear of pain came rushing back at her and she couldn't help but tense under under the warm weight of this man she'd just met that day and who'd changed her life so much. "Ngh!"
He grunted loudly in her ear, at the same time feeding his cock knob against her hole, and before she knew it he was in her, he was fucking her!
There was slight pain, but the delicious feeling of that first sensation she knew she would never forget. He was all the way inside her, hairy pube nested hotly against her scantily furred mound, cock filling her to bursting-and best of all moving, moving, moving!
"Oh-h-h-h! Car-r-r-rl! Wa-a-a-ait! Mor-r-r-r-re!" she moaned, and he chuckled lovingly and gave her more, moving it in and out, driving her absolutely insane with her love for him.
It was the feelings that drove her on. Good heavens, there was nothing like this in the universe! Diddling around and frigging and jerking him off and showing her beautiful body off to him were all as nothing compared to this! He was inside her! Inside her body with his, inside her cunt with his cock, and it was absolutely wonderful thrilling in every way!
She wanted to laugh and throw her arms around him and totally confess her love for him. But all she could do was throw her arms around him and tilt her cunt up to make it feel even better and hope she wasn't making a fool of herself with liking it too much. But she didn't care! It was supposed to be good and it was good! No pain at all now, just glorious all-encompassing good feelings, being loved, being penetrated by her lover, being fucked!
"You like it? Hah? You want more?" he said, giving her more, more, MORE!
"I just.. . love it!" she said, and he gave her more indeed, laughing as he slid it in and out of her, then sobering and kissing her wetly on the mouth, on her throat, biting her shoulder, and then hauling back and fucking her good and hard, just as she wanted him to, bringing starbursts and skyrockets and making all the great sensations she'd been introduced to that day seem childish and dumb.
No woman had ever been fucked that way before! And no woman had ever fucked back so wonderfully! And now, at last, Ellie was a real woman.
"Don't hurt now?" he said, pushing, ever pushing, just as she wanted him to.
"Wonderful! Wonderful!" It was all she could say, proclaiming it loudly, feet planted firmly and pushing back at him, getting the rhythm of him now.
"God, that's a tight cunt!" he said, and threw a leg over hers, fucking her harder still. "Keep you around and you're gonna drain me dry."
"Yes! Yes, I want all your cream!" she exulted, already feeling it flowing in her, all hot and good and enriching to their burgeoning love for one another.
"Fuck you real good and proper," he growled, and he rolled her over somehow and pushed it in and pulled it out from a different angle somehow and she forgot all about how much they loved one another as she started cumming in earnest, shamefully so, and he kept right on fucking her.
Ellie lost all track of everything then, fine young body completely taken over with cumming. She was rolled all around on the bed and on the ceiling and walls and everywhere, with Carl's big cock in her driving her on to orgasm after orgasm. He attacked her from every conceivable angle She was on her knees and hands and on her back again and on top of him, cumming constantly, and his lovely filling big dick was inside her all the time, all the time!
He could go forever! The world could stop but his cock would keep moving, in her, in her, in her!! ! She forgot his name at times and at times she didn't care, as long as she kept cumming. And cum she did, until all the sensations of that heavenly experience had rolled into one and she was existing in a total, mindless ecstasy. Later she could remember the rasping fire burning through her lungs, the sandpaper quality the sheets took on against her knees when she was straddling him and fucking him, and the smell of them both in fucking heat. But at the time she could think of nothing at all. He just fucked her, and fucked her, and fucked her, and she wasn't even aware of it when he'd gasped and grunted and squirted his cream into her hot, hot cunt, for she was cumming too hard herself then.
CHAPTER SIX
Ellie first thought it was the light of dawn that woke her up, but it was far too hot to be dawn. She could groggily remember everything they'd done together in bed that afternoon, but before that everything was a blank. She didn't care. All she cared about was the sharp nudging in her ribs.
"Get me a beer," said Carl Dawkin's voice from beside her, and Ellie remembered more about this day of days. "Get you one too. If you're old enough to fuck you're old enough to drink beer. And if Dotty gives you any static tell her to shove it, as per Carl Ogilvey Dawkins, Esquire, CO. fucking D. himself. Move it. Make sure they're cold."
Ellie got out of bed, found she was weak all over and all over drenched in sweat. Out from under the covers she felt cold, and she looked for something to put on, as much from getting chilled as from fearing to see Mrs. Dawkins when she went to get Carl's and her beer. But she'd have to run into her. Poor Mrs. Dawkins, Carl's first wife, was surely all over the house in her daily housework. Soon Ellie would be helping her with that, and enjoying her part in taking good care of Carl until such time . . . something happened to Dotty. She would move away for some reason. Or die a lingering death. And then Carl would turn to her for comfort, and for help in raising his child, and she'd . . . Yech! Alan Dawkins for a son? but she'd be a good mother nevertheless and always be a loving wife to . . .
"Beer! Beer! he called, and Ellie snatched a short white coat of Mrs. Dawkins from its hanger and put it on. Carl croaked and pleaded for beer like a dying man, and Ellie was out in the hall before she saw she'd put on one of Mr. Dawkins' dress shirts. But it covered her, and when she'd buttoned it up and rolled up the sleeves, she thought she could chance bumping into Mrs. Dawkins.
She was right there in the kitchen, frying sausages, and Alan sat at the kitchen table, grinning like an idiot and blinking his eyes at her. " 'Scuse me," Ellie said, and started past Mrs. Dawkins to the refrigerator.
"C . . . Mr. Dawkins asked me to bring him a bottle of beer. In fact two," she said, and got her hands on them, keeping as far away as she could from Alan, and the hand that kept scratching at his crotch.
She started back with the icy bottles chattering against her thinly covered titties when Mrs. Dawkins lifted her head and glared at her.
"Oh, my goodness," said Ellie, for her eye was bruised and discolored and her countenance was very grim.
"Oh, my old man's shirt," she said, and yanked at the tail of it.
Ellie, cringing against the sink top, said, "I ruined my clothes in the grass out there! I didn't have anything else to wear."
"Wear some of this!" said Mrs. Dawkins, and yanked Ellie around and lifted her shirt tail and whaled into her with the hot greasy spatula.
Ellie wailed and screamed, but she hung onto the bottles. Mrs. Dawkins cursed her and scalded her bare bottom to the bottom of the stairs, and Carl came out and bellowed, "Dotty, just knock it off or I'll black that other fucking eye. Honeypot," he cooed to the near hysterical Ellie, "you tell old Dotty to shove it and trot right up here with them cold beers. ALAN!" he shouted. "GET TO WORK!"
Ellie was up the stairs in no time, with a burning hot fanny and cheeks to match, the latter getting worse as Mrs. Dawkins' insults came pouring forth.
"Shove it, shove it, SHOVE IT!! ! " Carl roared, and then she was safe and sound in the bedroom with him again.
He slammed the door behind her and said, "What'd she do? Did she swat you one with that pancake turner?"
"It was hot! It was right out of the frying pan! Hot grease all over it! Look!" she said, and turned and presented her injured backside by lifting up the tail of her shirt.
"God damn sadistic old broad," he said. "But it don't look like you got any third degree burns. Come over here. Let's have a look."
He went over and sat on the dresser bench and she came with him, shirt tail lifted up and sore part of her body on display. It burned and felt awful, and he tended to it right away.
"Jesus, you really got it, kid. I should of gone myself," he said, massaging Ellie's fanny as she winced and went up on her toes. "Turned your pretty butt red and got it all over with bacon grease," he went on, massaging her ever more deeply, and then making her gasp and go up on her toes as he slid his finger up her pooper.
She couldn't even protest. It was just too awful. All she could do was stand there with her mouth open and her shirt tails up while he squirmed his finger all the way up her pooper and talked to her.
"Dotty'll come around. She'll see things my way. A hundred and fifty bucks a month to spend and a mother's helper to boot. Feel good? Nasty old hurt all gone? Christ, that's a tight little asshole!" he said, and it seemed to make a popping noise when he took his finger out.
He twisted off a beer cap and drank from the bottle, then offered it to Ellie. She drank numbly while he opened the other bottle, and while she was coughing and choking on it he stuck his thick slick finger up her ass again.
He said, "Yeah, Feels good, don't it? Lots of gals don't get turned on to this, but then not many gals get shown the ropes by a guy like me. That's the target for tonight," he said, and burrowed and swirled with two fingers, making Ellie hang onto the dresser and pray she wouldn't pee in her pants.
"Yeah, that's a nice asshole," he went on, and Ellie moaned in solid disappointment when he too his fingers ut. "And I bet you'd be surprised at just how much stretching it'll take."
"No! No, don't! It'll break in me!" Ellie cried.
He'd taken up her beer bottle and was pushing it against her asshole, twisting and turning it as if it was a corkscrew. He easily held her there, chuckling merrily, while she cried, "Oh! OH! NO! OWWW!! ! "
It hurt, more than his cock in her cunt had hurt. But that was only because she was so very afraid of it and tense. And then, thanks to Mrs. Dawkins' grease, it was moving in and out of Ellie's asshole in a filling and thrilling way. "Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" she kept saying that even as she roundly rotated her greasy but gorgeous butt, and Carl kept sliding that perfectly tapered bottle neck in and out of her. the beer was foaming up inside of her and Carl was giggling at her and she didn't know if she was pooping or not, but she kept swinging her ass for the bottle and cumming in a strange and beautiful way.
It was great, terrific, but it would have been better if it was him inside of her. It was his hand that held the bottle, but looking over her shoulder at his resurrected cock sent all sorts of crazy ideas through her head, she didn't think about any of them. She just climbed off that bottle and backed right up to him and said, "Fuck me again. Please? In my . . . back there?"
"Here?" he said, and stuck in his finger again.
It wasn't as big as the beer bottle but it made her say, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Put your cock right in me there! And cum in me! OH! OH! OH!"
He eased his fingers in and out, saying, "Sure, I'll corn-hole you. And you'll like it. A lot. Just bend over and show me where you want me to put it, baby," he said, and Ellie silently screamed as he drew his fingers out of her.
She bent at the waist and pulled her quivering buttocks apart with both hands. "There! Your cock! Right in my pooper!" she said, and then she almost crawled out of her skin from the sensation of him merely blowing his warm breath against her stretched asshole.
He alternately blew on her asshole and chuckled while she rocked back and forth on her heels and toes. He reached toward the dresser and now she saw herself in the mirror with him; upraised ass still red and greasy in her hands, face with a look of pained rapture on it, Carl's floppy shirt still on her back. It was cold cream he'd taken from the dresser. He stood up behind he with his cock so big and stiff it was absolutely beautiful, and he began smearing cold cream on it.
That big greasy pole would soon be up her ass! She could hardly wait for it! He stood right behind her and placed a broad palm on her ass, and with his other hand he took hold of his cock and pointed it straight at her blushing big buttocks. He rubbed its rubbery soft knob all around the hole where he'd had his wonderful fingers. Ellie tried to follow and catch the knob of it with her asshole. He pushed her shirt up higher on her swayed back as she gyrated her burning ass in search of his cock knob, which she could clearly see in the mirror, and then she could see it all even better when she ripped her shirt off over her head.
"In we go," said he, and his huge cock was inside her and stretching her to the breaking point, giving her that initial pain that was always followed by fantastic ecstasies. He held her hips firm and fucked her slowly and solidly in the asshole, and her hands slipped from her knees to hold onto the bench as the ecstasy began in earnest.
"Really tight!" he moaned, easing it in and out.
"Yes! And you're so big!" she exulted.
"You really like it up the ass, eh?"
"Yes! Everything you do to me! Oh, yes!" she cried, moving her ass again, unable to hold it still if she'd wanted to.
He stopped and took a drink of beer while she churned her hot ass about and sucked on his cock with it. No pain at all now, just all over ecstasy. Her face was slack with it when seen through her tumbled hair. Her dangling tits swayed with the motion of her body. Her gorgeous upturned buttocks were embracing the hairy base of his cock. He drank his beer and set the bottle down, took hold of her ass with both hands and gave her all the cock she wanted.
"OH! OH, CARL! YES!" she cried, as she sawed it in and out.
"Yeah. That's a nice asshole," he purred, deeply kneading her butts with his thumbs, much more deeply reaming her ass with his huge cock. "Bend over some more, kid."
The blood rushed to her head as she put her elbows on her knees, ass now obscenely high in the air. "Oh-h-h!" she wailed, as he took his loving cock out of her. "OH!" she cried, as he shoved it in again, in her cunt now.
He alternated back and forth between her asshole and her cunt. None of his insertions brought her pain now. Each one brought her higher toward the state of perfect ecstasy. Beer foam and cunt-juice were trickling down her inner thighs by the spoonful and still he went on fucking her in his wonderful way, two ways at once, more than any girl could ever hope for. With his hairy belly hung over her smooth rosy ass, he fucked her and fucked her till she couldn't tell which hole he was in without looking in the mirror, and acquainted her so intimately with cumming that she thought she'd never stop.
Every cell in her body screamed for more when he pulled it out. "Now suck on it," he said, and moved around her sweating naked body. Ellie fell to her knees and began to suck his cock, because her legs were to weak to hold her up and because sucking that beautiful cock was the most important thing in the world to her just then.
"Yeah. That's it. Suck it up good and hard with your pretty mouth, and then I'll fuck you some more with it."
It was as hard as it could be already; but she sucked on it lavishly, lovingly. With her cheeks sunken in and the hairy base of it in her hand, she crooned to herself in her joys she moved her circling lips up and down the big, thick shaft, applying suction that made his cock knob swell and throb in her mouth. It had tasted awful at first, so rank and strong that Ellie had almost gagged, but now that her laving tongue had washed it clean it tasted exquisitely meaty and good. The textures were marvelous too, and she savored them fully as she panted through her nostrils and sucked his cock and kept on cumming.
It was fantastic! All she had to do to cum now was to squeeze her thighs together. Her throbbing cunt and asshole were all alive with seething sensation as she sucked Carl's cock and squirmed her thighs together. Then a mad itching started between her legs and she had to dive down there with one hand and scratch it feverishly, finding wonderful relief, but still scratching at it.
It was right at that supersensitive spot. Carl saw in the mirror what she was doing and said, "Is that your clitty that's starting to bother you? Here. I got just the thing for it. It drives Dotty nuts and it'll do the same thing for you."
"No!" she cried, as his cock was slipped from her mouth.
She followed after it, on her knees, as Carl went to the chest of drawers. He took out something that looked like an electrical pistol, with a white rubber suction cup at the muzzle of it. He plugged it in the wall and it started purring, and gooseflesh crawled all over Ellie when she realized how it had been used.
"No! Just put it away," she said. "All i want is your cock, anyplace in me!"
"Oh, you'll like this," he said, and he pulled her to her feet and touched the buzzing suction cup to her nipple.
She was appalled, staring down at the ugly mechanical device feeding at her breast and filling her with nauseous vibrations. She could visualize it touching Dotty's body in this way-and worse-and she pushed it away and grabbed at Carl's cock and pleaded that that was all she needed.
"Naw, you try it," he said, and stabbed the vibrations through her hip. "Don't knock anything till you tried it," he advised, and he shoved the thing between her cringing, clasping thighs and got it much too close to her pussy.
She fought it all the way and he just laughed at her struggles and went on with it. Perhaps he thought she was writhing and squirming in enjoyment, and then perhaps she was, for when it finally did touch against her supersensitive spot its vibrations thrilled her sharply.
She looked at his grinning face in wonder, then down at the rubber cup blurred and buzzing firmly against her blonde-haired pube. She stood up straighter, had to hold onto him as the feelings mounted, and then tilted her pelvis up for more of them as his wonderful device returned her to ecstasy.
"I told you, you'd like it," he said. "I got it right on your clitty and you're goin' nuts."
"My clitty! Oo-o-o-o, my clitty!" she said, all but jumping up and down as the vibrator sucked it and loved it and made her start cumming again. "Oh! Oh! OH!" she cried, delighted with the device now, and shoving her clitty against it while she clung with her nails to Carl's bare ass.
He bent and get its warm buzzing cup more directly against her clitty, and she spread her feet wide and went up on her toes with the thrilling ecstasies soaring up through her. She was squealing and gasping and cumming constantly when he said, "You take it now and give it a try. That's the way Dotty likes it best."
"No! Please! You do it! You do it so good, so wonderful!" she said, sickened at the thought of Dotty Dawkins using the thing on her old body, then warmed by the knowledge that Carl's wife was a secret masturbator.
"You go ahead with it. I need me a drink of beer."
He shoved the vibrator in her hands, gave her tits a squeeze, and walked naked back to the dresser. She stood there with it buzzing, trying to catch her breath. Carl drank deeply, gestured with the bottle, and said, "Be a good girl now, honey. Use it so I'll see how you like it best when I love you up. Sit down and go ahead. Right there, while I rest a minute."
He sat down on the bench, beer bottle in one hand, other hand curling around his semi-upright cock. She badly wanted to please him and perhaps she wanted to feel just a little more of the vibrator's action on her clitty, just to see if she'd been most affected by it or by him. And so she sat down on the floor, feet spread wide apart and knees up, and gingerly touched the white rubber suction cup to her very pink, very wet slit.
"Ooo!" She gasped and gave a start. In the short time since it had left her, she'd already forgotten how good it felt.
She held it right there on her clitty, looking from Carl's grinning face to where all the wondrous action was, and resumed her lovely cumming.
"Oh. Oh, my," she said, trying to be as calm and ladylike as she could. "It does feel nice!"
"It should. It's a damn good vibrator. Probably cost forty bucks new. I got it at the swap meet for six, and it's the best six bucks I ever spent. Move it around. Get acquainted with it."
He toasted her with his beer and drank. He was toasting her with his cock, too, stroking it slowly and helping get it stiff. She'd figured out the whys and wherefore of his getting a stiff cock. It had to be stiff before he could fuck her, and what made it stiff was her, the things she did and the things she let him do to her. Now she was letting him watch her, and if that meant getting his cock hard for fucking, there was no reason why she shouldn't give him something to look at.
"Mm-m-m-m-m. Yummy!" she said, grinning back at him and moving the rubber cup do wn through her tingling slit. Just about everyplace she touched with the cup felt almost as good as her clitty had. She spread her legs wider and used her other hand to help expose still more of that part of her that this man loved so much, and mm-m-m-m, that felt even better.
His cock was as hard as it could be now and her cunt couldn't have been more sensitive. She wanted that cock in her one more time more than anything else in the world, but for the moment she had that wonderful vibrator to play with and keep her from getting too anxious.
"Even my . . . even my ass hole!" she said, and held it there and felt its vibrations through every part of her till it almost reached the point of pain.
"All over!" she exclaimed, and buzzed it up and down and in and out her thighs, round and round her tummy, up and over her tits as she fed them to it with her hand.
"What you need is a big steam-driven cock in you while you play around with that thing," he said.
She secretly thrilled at such a wild thought, but she said, "What I need is your cock. Mm-m-m, yes!"
"You'll get it when you're ready for it. But an old man like me, he needs his beer breaks," he said, stroking a cock that was so big and hard now that Ellie thought her heart would break with yearning for it.
Her clitty was demanding its attention. And it was not to be denied. Ellie spread the top of her swollen cuntlips wide and looked down at herself there to see what he was seeing and liking. Her clitty looked hugely swollen and angrily red, but if that was the way he liked it, that was the way she liked it too.
"Oh! I never felt anything so nice!" said she as she covered her clitty with the soft white rubber. "Except you, of course," she quickly added. And none too soon, for already the vibrator was jiggling her clitty so fantastically that she couldn't hold herself or it still.
She was panting and her tits were swaying as she churned her ass on the carpet, frankly fucking the vibrator with her clitty. She was moving the vibrator too, but only the handle of it. This she rotated widely between her legs to make the rubber cup attack her clitty from every angle, just as Carl so effectively had done. It was fascinating to watch as well as to feel, so much so that for once she didn't look up when Carl spoke.
"You like that electric dildo, eh?"
"I love it! I can't get over it! I just can't . . . quite . . . cum with it now!"
"You're sure givin' it a helluva try," he said, and she blushed when he chuckled, but she didn't look up from her blushing cunt, nor the superbly designed device she held in her sweating hands.
"But I can't cum!" she said, trying ever harder, even more wonderfully. "I'm almost there but it just can't quite cum!"
"I know," he said. "You need my cock for that," he said, and Ellie looked up from her feverish endeavors because his voice was quite close to her, and when she looked up there was his fully swollen cock before her eyes.
It was in his hand, and his hand was still moving. It was pointed down, right toward her face. Each downstroke of his hand swelled the beautiful big knob of his cock with crimson, and each upstroke made its little wet mouth reach out to hers.
"Yeah, this is what you need to cum," he said, and Ellie got the vibrator centered just right on her clitty and leaned forward and began to lick Carl Dawkins' lovely prick.
Delicious.
It seemed so sweet and clean now, with only the taste of his viscid sex juice to be savored and thrilled by. She wrapped her pursed lips about the end of it and slid them warmly up to meet the slow thrust of his cock. It filled her mouth with its warmth and her soul with its excitement as she sucked on it and fucked herself with the vibrator. In her hunger for it she took it clear down to the soft back of her throat, and though this almost caused her to gag, she did it again and again as her passions rose still higher.
"Just suck on the knob of it now, baby," he told her. "I'll just help you along some. And don't forget to use your tongue."
She sucked it and washed it with her tongue at the same time. It was wonderful to know how much he liked it! She was panting and moaning constantly through her nostrils and frigging herself with what felt like raw electric voltage now, and hanging on each of his words of instruction and praise for her.
"Yeah, you're gonna be a good cocksucker. You could even be a natural born cocksucker. Vh-huh! You're really makin' me feel good, baby. And you're feelin' good too. Oh, but you wait. The best part's yet to come. Suck that cock, baby. Make my balls fill up and overflow with good, hot cum! Uh! Make it come out, honey. Oh-h-h-h, you're gonna love it. Hot cream, the best thing in the world for a growing gal. Oh! Yeah! Now, baby! Here it comes. Watch it come!" he said, and drew his pulsing cock out of her hotly panting mouth, in time for her to see the thick jet of white spurt out from the tiny mouth.
Her hair stood on end and she started cumming. The vibrator dropped from her hands and she took his cock in both of them, got it back in her mouth, and still kept cumming while she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed!
Beautiful!! !
His thick cum filled her mouth, her brain. It was hot and salty sweet, and she wanted to roll it around in her mouth for all the time she was cumming, but her belly demanded that it be put inside her. So she swallowed it and sucked for more, faster and faster, cumming and cumming with him, but only able to moan in her ecstasy while he could speak words.
"Good hot jism! Good hot cum! Get it al-l-l-l! Uh! Jesus! What a ball-buster of a cum! Don't miss a drop of it! Ah-h-h-h. All gone now. Whew-w-w-w. All gone, baby. Stop your suckin'. The party's over."
"More. Oh, Carl. Oh, I love you so," she confessed, mouth still hungering for the cock that had been taken from it, pawing and kissing feebly at his loins as she sat in a wet puddle of her cunt-juice on the floor.
He laughed and said, "You just love sex, and I can't say as I blame you. But now I gotta get some rest before you wear me out, and you gotta get to your room."
She never wanted to leave him again. She wanted to cling to him forever, but she was so very, very tired. He drew her to her feet and she had great difficulty standing against him. She knew she looked awful, but she couldn't even lift a hand to brush back her hair. He started walking her toward the door, and she almost collapsed. She was trying to apologize for her clumsiness as he walked her down the hall and down the stairs, and he was saying that everything was fine and that she'd been a great piece of ass.
He took her into a small dim room and she flopped down on a narrow bed, too tired to successfully move. A cover was thrown over her by her lover, and then he sat and held her hand and said, "There's lots more good times like we had today as long as you're a good girl. You keep our fun a secret between us, you do what Dotty tells you without any sass, and you'll be one happy kid. Pretty things to wear, school when you want to go, a nice little car someday. Just be good, do what Dotty tells you, and don't talk to anybody about what you and me do together when we're alone. Okay?"
She managed to nod. "Okay. Yes, Carl. I love you." She managed to pucker up for his swift kiss. She couldn't manage to hold onto his hand as it slipped from hers, and she was fast asleep before he left the room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Ellie awoke it felt as if she hadn't slept for more than five minutes. She was so groggy she could hardly move, and when she did move she found she was sore all over her body.
Her muscles ached and the bedsheets felt like sandpaper against the minor abrasions that seemed to cover her body. Between her legs it was the worst of all, as if she'd been badly sunburned or exposed to poison oak there. But she had to move, for her throat was parched dry.
She hardly knew where she was, but there had to be water somewhere. She was in a small room with a paint-peeling chest of drawers, a rickety straight backed chair, and the iron cot on which she'd been sleeping. The single window was open, accounting for the early morning sunlight streaming in. The one door was locked, Ellie discovered, as she was discovering she was naked. The other door opened to a tinier room with a toilet and tub and sink in it, and Ellie rushed to the sink and gulped cold water from her cupped hands.
She went back to the cot and lay down. She felt her aches more than ever now, knew she should get up and take a hot bath but she was just too tired to move. Her thirst slaked, she could at least try to remember how she got where she was. And when she did, she covered her face with her hands and rolled toward the wall and moaned, "Oh, no."
What had come over her the day before? Or was it the week before? How could she have done those incredible things with that awful Mr. Dawkins? And how could she thought she'd enjoyed it all at the time?? ?
She must have been drunk. The beer! But she'd only had a few sips. Oh, the things he'd done to her! In her fanny and everywhere! And oh how furious poor Mrs. Dawkins had been. And rightly so. The only thing to do was run away, go back to the agency, anywhere. A nunnery would be the best place, where she'd never even have to think of Mr. Dawkins and his big ugly purple cock again.
But she had to have clothes for that. She winced and got out of bed, went to kneel shakily before the chest of drawers and discover there was nothing in the drawers but childrens' games and an assortment of broken toys. But she had the sheets on the bed, rough as they were, and she took one of these and wrapped it around her like a Roman toga and went to the window.
It was a small window, its sill some four feet from the floor. But it was large enough to crawl through and escape from her shame if she could open it, and she pushed with all her strength at the handle. Her feet were braced widely on the floor and the sheet was in danger of slipping as she heaved hard at the stubbornly unyielding window. She braced herself again and took a deep breath to push harder, and a grinning face appeared at the window.
She screamed and fell back toward the bed. It was only Alan, she knew, the harmless Dawkins retard, but the sudden fright was everywhere in her as she screamed and huddled against the wall and stared shocked at him while he made horrid faces at her.
The door rattled and came open and there was Carl Dawkins moving swiftly into the room with her. She threw out her arms to him, starting toward him, but he was quickly there on the bed with her, arms about her sobbing body, comforting her.
"What's the matter? Did my good girl have a nightmare? Aw-w-w-w. It's okay. You're okay. Poppa's here."
"He was there at the window. Your son. And oh, the faces he made at me! I got scared. He . . . he startled me. Oh Carl I'm so sorry I screamed, but I'm so glad you're here. Just hold me. I'll be all right if you just hold me."
"Sure, baby." He was dressed in his working clothes, jeans and an old flannel shirt, and his substantial bulk felt wonderful to lean against and his good workman's hands felt wonderful on Ellie's body. They felt even more wonderful and she felt closer still to him when he eased the bedsheet from her shoulders, saying, "I'm here and everything's fine. That little fucker won't bother you any more. You need a bath, bad, but you're sure a pretty little thing. I forgot just how pretty you are. Goes to show how short a man's memory gets when he's through bein' horny. Nice, nice titties. Awww. Who put that nasty black and blue mark on your pretty little ribs. Hah?"
Her bedsheet was down to her waist and his hands were touching her with thrilling gentleness. She impulsively hugged his thick torso, and he chuckled his fatherly, loving chuckle and squeezed a big handful of her bottom.
"You feel like playing, don't you," he said. "You know I got to get to work and you know darned well I'm going to take you into town and get you that pretty dress we were talking about last night, but you want to play first. Don't you, you hot little bundle of sex!"
"Oh, Carl," she cooed. "We shouldn't." She squirmed against him and he hugged her closer, making her wince from her aches and at the same time thrilling her.
"Why not? You got the time and I got the hard-on," he said, and he outlined the big exciting bulge in his pants with his hand.
"Oooo," Ellie's pussy squirmed and cringed and felt sore but good.
"Why don't you take it on out and see if it still fits? And why don't we get rid of your bridal gown?" he said, and she felt glorious, like a real bride with a dowry and everything when he threw back the rumpled bedsheet from her body.
He'd told her to take it out and she went at her job. There was nothing more in the world she wanted to see than that part of him that loved her so much it changed its whole shape for her. He fondled her and patted her and squeezed her and it hardly made her wince at all, so intent was she upon getting his lovely cock out of his pants and making him love her still.
"Oh, Car-r-r-l!" she moaned, and hugged the sturdy big thing with both hands as it showed its ruddy bright face to her.
He cautioned her, "Easy, baby. That got quite a workout last night and yesterday. And an old man like me can't take it like you youngsters can."
"You're not old at all!" she assured him, having to hold back from pulling it right up off him and hugging it to her breast, then bending down to suck on it as second best.
He helped her to this with his hand on the back of her head. It continued to massage her scalp through her badly matted hair while she sucked on his hard cock with all she'd learned the day before and all the added inspiration of her fresh morning's love for him. It was a beautiful thing to do for him. Exciting for her, too, for she was a natural born cocksucker, and her mouth could never possibly get as sore as her pussy was just then.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah-h-h-h. That's good," he said, leaning back and letting her do her thing, patting her hip and squeezing her fanny in encouragement.
"You got a nice mouth. Not as tight as your cunt, but it's pretty damn nice. Man, that was a good screw yesterday. Got you good, didn't I? Up your cunt and up your butt, and you took to it like a baby duck takes to water. Tight," he said, and his hand wriggled down under her butt as she avidly sucked on his cock. "Really a nice tight little cunt," he said, with his finger burrowing ever closer to that part of her sexy little body.
"How does it feel not bein' a virgin? Hah? You still as tight as you were before, or is your cunt all big and stretched out of shape. Let's see. Let's lemme just see."
She lifted up the buttock his hand was under, curious herself if she'd been permanently stretched there and not feeling quite so sore that she couldn't even be touched. But he touched her quite firmly and she did wince a little, for now in contrast to yesterday her pussy was just as dry as it could be. She had to concentrate on her cocksucking and on refraining from wincing as he probed and pushed up between her legs, and this she did. And then she felt a little glow of warmth within there, a slow oozing of liquid warmth. She found that by wriggling her bottom just right the tight dry orifice could be more deeply penetrated by his finger, and the liquid warmth could be reached. Ellie's spine curled with shivers of delight as his lovely thick finger eased halfway in her, all the way out, then all the way in again to the last knuckle.
"Poor kid," he said. "You're getting all hot again."
She lifted her loving lips from his cock, brushed back her matted blonde hair, and said, "I couldn't help it. Your cock.. . . "She couldn't make her hand turn loose of it.
"What about my cock? Don't you like it?"
"Carl, I love it!" she said, and started to go down on it again.
He let her, but for just a little while. He let her get another good heat-inspiring taste of it and he slid his finger in and out her tight wet hole, and then he drew her upright and said, "Do you want my cock in you, Ellie?"
"Yes. In me. In my pussy!" she breathed, all giddy with love and excitement for him.
He lay back on the cot, hands folded behind his head and stiff cock standing at attention, and he said, "Go to it, baby. It's all your'n."
Ellie knew instinctively what to do. She was a born cock fucker as well as a born cocksucker, it seemed.
She threw a leg over his hips and straddled them on her knees. His big cock stuck up at an angle, with its bulbous red knob touching Ellie's crusted blonde pubic hair. She took it in hand and redirected that angle till his cockhead was touching the portals of her pussy. He lay back in solid masculine comfort and she smiled her encouragement of this as she eased her cunt down on his cock. She waggled her hips and altered the angle of her pelvis as she made the tight fit, with the base of his cock firmly in hand.
In her inexperience, it wasn't easy. It felt good, but there was little of the sudden ecstasy she felt when Carl was in charge of making those swift, sure insertions of cock in cunt that she loved so much. Still she worked at it, knowing she was pleasing him, and pleasing herself too when at last she was able to withdraw her hand from between them and settle her pubis on top of his.
She was so proud of herself. Carl's beloved cock was all the way inside her and she'd done it all herself. It would be a little uncomfortable to move until she got used to this position, but she found no discomfort in leaning slowly forward until her tits were pressed against his shirted chest and she could reach her lips to his.
He kissed her and swatted her on the rump and said, "Move it, kid. I got places to go, people to see, bills to pay and money to collect. Let's go!"
Another sharp slap on the ass and more commanding words had Ellie at work. With her hands braced against his chest she found she could move her hips pretty well, providing the coital friction both of them needed to share the wonderful discovery of sex they'd made together. She knew he liked to look at her and she felt that her tits provided him with good viewing as she moved her torso to make her cunt work and her breasts dance before his eyes. She was smiling brightly too, for her mother always had told her that a girl's smile is the best part of her. But mostly she just kept her cunt moving on his cock. It felt nice enough, though not so incredibly good as when he was on top of her, making love to her. Still she kept at it, trying to smooth out the ragged rhythm she'd taken up and trying too to enjoy the twinges of pleasure that tickled through her cunt.
She worked and worked, grin frozen on her face. She was starting to perspire, and she hoped it wouldn't be offensive to him. She was panting and her throat was parched again, but she continued to smile down on him. She was actively willing him to have an orgasm when her rhythm faltered and his cock most tragically skidded out of her cunt.
"I'm sorry! I'll get it! It was all my fault!" she said, grabbing for the slippery thick shaft and doing her clumsy best to stuff it back in her empty cunt.
"Shit, I better do it," he growled, and he rolled them over and had himself back inside her with startling ease, and with most gratifying results.
He had Ellie's buttocks right on the edge of the bed. Her heels were widespread on the bare wooden floor and her back was laid across the bed. This posture elevated her hips quite sharply, and Carl, with the toes of his work shoes planted firmly on the floor and his arms about her torso, could use all of his considerable male strength to drive his big cock up Ellie's willing but weary cunt.
"Uh! Uh! Nnggh!" He grunted like an animal as he drove that big thing up her for all he was worth, splitting her fully open twat with it and thudding his balls up against her asscheeks and slamming his pube into hers. The angle of their union was such that his cock was driving far deeper than ever it had before, its blunt snout touching parts of Ellie that had certainly never been touched before. At first it was quite unpleasant, then it became tolerable, and at last it came to feel quite good when his cockhead slipped over those internal parts of her feminine anatomy.
She was really getting to like it. "Lift up your . . . legs!" he grunted, and she did and she liked it even better. He was still pushing in cuntlips and hairs with his tremendously fierce drives and slamming hard against that internal clit she had, while she held her legs as high as she could and reached toward heaven with him. But then his grunts turned to signs, his rhythm quickly slowed to a stop, and the thick wedge of his cock was eased out of her as her lover sat back on his haunches on the floor.
"Yep," he said. "Nothing like a little morning glory to start the day. Time to get it in gear now," he said, and gave her such a pinch on her ass that she squealed and sat up. "Lots to do today. But you sure better grab a quick bath before you come out. And comb your hair. I gotta go into town and get some key blanks. Dotty will give you breakfast and tell you what she needs done."
He rose and closed his pants, and in rising panic Ellie said, "What will I wear? I don't have anything to put on. What clothes I have are in my suitcase."
"I'll have Alan fetch it to you," he said from the door.
"No!" The thought of him bringing her clothes to her when she was naked was terrifying to her. But she couldn't let Carl know that she feared his crazy son. "The . . . the clothes in my suitcase are too nice to wear for housework. Don't you have any of your wife's old clothes I could wear till you get back from town with something for me? Or I could just wait here till you got back. And rest."
"No rest around here," he said. "I'll find something for you to wear. You take that bath now."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Weariness and soreness immediately moved in on Ellie. She had to make it into the tub quickly, before she could no longer move. Even the tepid water stung as she eased her body into it, but then it felt good, it felt wonderful to lie back and let the warmth soak in.
There was no bubble bath or shampoo here in this meager bathroom. All she had was a piece of Lava soap, abrasive included, to wash away the stains of almost twenty-four hours of activity that she was far from used to. She'd get used to it because she was in love with Carl, and she'd even get used to that nervous anxious feeling that surely came from getting too close to a climax and then not reaching it. On her own now, she'd have to get used to a lot of things, some of which would be unpleasant, but the great joy of love and sex that Carl had shown her would make up for a lot of bad times. Ellie smiled and closed her eyes and dwelt with her mind on the good times.
"Wake up!" Carl shouted, and Ellie came to with a start and began to vigorously wash herself. He tossed her a green garment and said, "You can wear this, and you better hurry up and get it on or you'll miss breakfast. See you this afternoon, kid. Do what Dotty says, but if she gives you any trouble, tell her to shove it, as per Carl Ogilvey Dawkins, Esquire."
He slammed out and she started washing and shampooing, working very fast, driven by a growling stomach. She quickly dried herself off, and the aches and pains had diminished somewhat by then. She picked up Mrs. Dawkins' housedress to put it on and recognized it as one of her own dresses, a very nice one her mother had bought for her junior high school commencement exercises, a green dress-whose skirt had been the shortest she'd ever been allowed to have. It indicated that the work lined up for her was very light, and Ellie dressed in it without the comforting benefit of any underclothes at all, forgotten by Carl in his haste as a businessman and head-of-household. The little skirt seemed shorter than she'd remembered it when she put it on. She had to be very careful of her posture when she went to face her lover's wife.
Mrs. Dawkins met Ellie in the kitchen with a fierce glower. She looked her up and down sneering while Ellie twisted her hands before her and forced a smile, and then she jerked her thumb toward the back door and said, "There's some wash out there by the set tub. Get at it."
Ellie edged past her and was reaching for the front door when, SLASH!, a scalding stripe of pain seared across the backs of her upper thighs. She grabbed at herself there, in time to keep her skirt from flying up to reveal her bare bottom, and turned toward Mrs. Dawkins blinking back tears. The older woman was calmly setting down a limber bamboo rod, and calmly looking back at Ellie through her blackened eye. Ellie proceeded on, feeling deeply sorry for the woman.
The set tub was a concrete sink behind the house, the work to be done in it a pile of jeans and coveralls obviously too filthy to be handled by a washing machine. She went to work on them with cheerful vigor, glad to be out in the sunshine, certain that the activity would work the aches and pains out of her muscles, if not her pussy.
Carl had fucked her so many times! And introduced her to such ecstasies as she'd never known existed. What a shame Mrs. Dawkins didn't understand their love for one another. Or that she was even alive. Ellie was immediately sorry for that uncharitable thought, and for the one that followed and wished Alan equally out of their lives. She and Carl would just have to make the best of things. The course of true love never did run smooth, she thought, and then leaped with fresh pain as she was stung on the behind by the biggest insect in the world.
She looked around her, saw no bees or hornets. But when she lifted her skirt she saw an angry red spot just below the round swell of her naked left buttock. She rubbed it, looked around again, and returned to her work. She was just smugly thinking about Carl and his cock again when once again that sharp stab of pain stung her to the quick.
This time she spun about quickly enough to see Alan's black head duck behind a pile of lumber lying in the tall wild oats. The little brat had a slingshot or a beebee gun or something, and Ellie's half covered bottom presented a target just too tempting for him to pass up. Ever a resourceful girl, Ellie found a ragged khaki blanket in the pile of laundry, wrapped it around her waist, and returned to her work.
Now she could feel Alan's projectiles hitting the draped blanket, but there was no sting in them. Occasionally one would hit her elbow as his rate of fire increased, but most simply thudded against the thick wool with nothing more than irritation for her. But even irritation can be irritating. The scratchy blanket added to it. She thought about it, decided to test the extent of Alan's mental deficiency, and removed the blanket from around her.
One more errant shot hit the back of the house and then the volley stopped. She smiled at her cleverness, and that young Alan wasn't as dumb as he looked. Now, with a good, unobstructed view of her legs and bottom, his hand had dropped the slingshot handle in favor of his prick. And he was certainly getting a good view. Long slender legs, shaven smooth and smoothly muscular, tapering up to firmly globular buttocks, at least half of which he could see as she bent over the tub in her short skirt. And between those legs, high up between her roundly tapered thighs, he could see the split bulge of her pussy prettily peeping back at him with hardly a blonde hair to obscure the view. The view kept him quiet, and Ellie kept subtly changing that view to ensure his peace.
It was a very daring thing for a girl like Ellie to do. Nothing at all in her upbringing even suggested such behavior. But with the training she'd had in the past twenty-four hours, it was a very logical thing to do. Carl seemed to think she was pleasing to look at. His son did too, or he wouldn't have been climbing that tree the day before and behaving as he had. Ellie obviously had something that interested males, and if she could gain something by showing it to them, she'd show it to them.
She felt in her bones that he might be aiming his slingshot at her again and so she bent down deeply into the tub, giving him an almost complete view of her naked posterior. And then she felt the threat pass quietly away, and she could work in peace again. To forestall another attack she bent almost double in picking up some more laundry, and in that position with her bottom raised on high, she swung it back and forth as if having difficulty with the dirty clothes. She even reached back and scratched herself there from time to time, looking at herself from over her shoulder, as if she hadn't the slightest notion he was hiding in the weeds. Perfect peace was the result, and incidentally some very warm little thrills that she was able to easily to calm the savage beast in the idiot boy.
She took an armload of laundered clothing to the clotheslines and made sure to face the boy's hiding place as she hung them up with clothespins. And of course each time she reached up to the clothesline the front of her dress was lifted up to reveal the dainty blonde and pink plumpness of her cunt. All these things and more she did, and at first it was hard to keep a straight face about it. Soon, however, that became easy to do, for there was nothing all that funny about being a very sexy young lady who knew just what to do with her body. She rolled her hips on the way back to the washing sink in a way she knew looked sexy somehow and in a way that was somehow quite natural for her. Her reward for this as she glanced over her shoulder was the sight of Alan's face above the woodpile, all flushed and red and staring without a thought of concealing himself any longer. She tossed her blonde mane proudly and resumed her work, shaking her lovely bottom and feeling absolutely marvelous about the whole thing.
Ellie wasn't even halfway through the big pile of laundry when Dotty figured out what was going on in her back yard. It was Alan's mindless ogling that gave it all way. At first Dotty couldn't figure out what her little boy was doing there behind the wood pile, mouth hung open and eyes bulging, face looking as if he was having the sunstroke. Dotty just couldn't figure it out. She knew where the girl was working and she knew Alan was staring in that direction, but she also knew Alan was still a bit young to be lastingly interested in anything beyond the truck and his beloved keys. She set out to investigate, left the house by the side door, and made a wide circle through the field to approach him unnoticed.
A tree and one of the outbuildings concealed what Dotty sought until the last moment, and then she saw the whole sordid scene at once. There was that whore of a girl with her big naked ass sticking out for her darling to see, and there was poor Alan, not knowing how he'd been seduced, but abusing himself in the cruelest manner. He was kneeling, looking at the whore from over the wood pile, and his pants were down around his knees and his little fist was flying like a jackhammer around his entirely immature penis. She wanted to weep for his lost innocence, but outrageous anger overwhelmed this feeling, anger at the snotty little bitch who'd screwed her husband silly and was now in the process of debauching her only son. She waded through the thick grass, picked up a long limber slat from the wood pile, and stalked furiously on toward that awful girl.
"Aw, Mom! Mom! What're you doin'? ? ? "
Ellie whirled at this and summed up the scene in a moment. She covered her previously flaunted bottom with both her hands and backed against the house, shaking her head and saying, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Dawkins! I didn't know he was there! And Ca . . . your husband didn't give me any panties to wear this morning! Please don't be mad."
But she was angry, and it didn't help to have Alan running after her, holding up his fallen pants and crying, "Aw, Mom! I was just looking! I wasn't screwing her like Pop did! Aw, Mom!"
They arrived before Ellie at the same time, Alan still whining his entreaties, Dotty so fucking mad she could hardly say, "Turn around. Bend over. Lift up that skirt and I'll show you all your fat ass is good for!"
Ellie cringed back against the wall, swallowed hard and said, "Sh-sh-sh-shove it!"
WHOP! A roundhouse left hand, coming from the opposite direction of the wooden slat, caught Ellie with enough force and surprise to knock her to the ground amid dazzling stars. Mrs. Dawkins was standing astraddle her at once, shrieking horrible imprecations and flailing at her with the stick till that broke, then yanking her hair and clothing and beating at her with her fists. The furious onslaught would have been demoralizing under any circumstances but these, for now all it did was bring Ellie out of her stunned daze and make her fight back as she'd never have thought of doing deliberately.
She scissored her body around one of Mrs. Dawkins' legs, gave a heave and sent her yelling to the ground. She launched herself at her, caught her hair and pulled hard, then caught her apron and ripped it right off her as Mrs. Dawkins rolled away through the dirty clothes, with Ellie right behind her. She caught her again, and now they rolled in the dirt, kicking and clawing and scratching and shrieking, until both had had enough for the moment and got to their feet to circle each other warily, crouching, teeth bared and claws extended.
Alan had been shouting, "Come on, Mom! Git her, Mom!" But now he was struck dumb by the sight of them, for though he'd had wild dreams about the foster girl all night long, he never thought he'd see his mother like this.
Her apron was long gone and she'd lost one of her shoes, and even as Alan gaped she kicked off the other to give herself better purchase for this mini-battle of Amazons. One whole side of her long skirt had been torn away, revealing the muscular shapeliness of her bare legs and the snow white nylon panties that clung so intimately to her hip and buttock. A large smudge of dirt on those panties somehow seemed to enhance the pristine purity of them, and make the womanflesh that they contained all the more intriguing to her son. The bodice of her cotton print dress was torn too, and now he could clearly see the white brassiere that he'd only been able to glimpse in the past, so fully packed with pure sexuality that he felt dizzy and had to rub the aching hard pecker in his pants. He'd seen her several times naked and screwing with his father but this was different, entirely different, for she was wildly sexy now, and he was the only man who could see her that way.
The girl was wildly sexy-looking too, but Alan expected that of her. Both her dress and her fine white flesh were badly smudged with dirt and grass stains, and her dress was torn down about one shoulder. She was trying to right it as she circled against his mother, and Alan got look after look at a naked titty, pink-tipped, that was every bit as sexy as any he'd ever seen in Playboy. He'd already seen her legs and her ass and her cunt, but not nearly close enough, not this close, and he squeezed his pecker more and he panted to see more.
Or course both females were battle-angry, with claw marks on their skin and hair that was in wild disarray. They were panting as they circled, looking for any opening, and Alan honestly didn't know for whom he should be rooting. He'd love to see his mother beat the girl good, but at the same time he sure wouldn't mind it if Ellie ripped every stitch off his mom and gave him a really good look at her tits, and even at her cunt.
"Come on!" he shouted, and they both responded, clashing together with shrill cries of fury.
They shrieked and clawed at hair and clothes and flesh, bit and kicked like alley cats. Each sought to topple the other to the ground where she could fall on top of her and beat her badly, and each failed for now. Dotty fought with mature strength and wily cunning, hotly tempered with her rage. Ellie fought with superior height and youthful vigor, too unfamiliar with anger to realize how it drove her on. It was Dotty who hooked Ellie's leg and sent her crashing to the ground in a flurry of green rags and white arms and legs and ass, and it was Ellie who recovered quickly enough to be grappling with Dotty the moment her full weight was upon her. And it was Alan who dug his hand through his open fly to his pecker and shouted, "Get her! Get her!"
They were rolling again on the ground, shrieking and eating dust and tearing at anything at hand. Dirt was cloying with sweat as they grape-vined their legs together and strained in every way they could. Their shrieks turned into gruntings and pantings, and still they fought on, each dimly aware of the shouting boy who watched them, each furiously intent on subduing the other.
Dotty tried to bite Ellie's throat, and Ellie jerked her back by the head of her hair, just in time. Now with Dotty's throat exposed, Ellie tried to throttle her, and would have if Dotty hadn't raised a hard knee between her legs that connected solidly enough to double Ellie up. Dotty was sure she had full advantage now, but she followed through badly, pummeling the moaning girl with the sides of her fists and ripping away the very last of her imagine green minidress. She should have pinioned her then, completely subdued her and beg for mercy, but her mindless attack gave Ellie the chance to gasp her way out of her pain and twist about and get good hold of Dotty's wrist with both hands.
Up between her shoulder blades it went, just as Ellie had seen it done on TV Wrestling, a late show her mother had forbidden her to see. It was surprisingly, wonderfully effective. Ellie lay on top of her, twisting that arm up, while Dotty lay face down in the dirt, beating the ground with her free hand and begging, "Stop! Don't break it! I give up! You win!"
Alan was too excited to be disappointed. And his vantage point was too obscured by rising dust clouds to be able to appreciate the condition of the women who were fighting. For him! He peered through the dust, seeing more and more of them, moving slowly and breathing very hard as they struggled to their feet.
Ellie got up first, reeling backward, fully naked and utterly glorious even with all the dirt and dust on her body. Dotty got up more slowly, like the old woman that she was, pausing to rest on one knee, then creaking up to her feet, swaying and looking about to faint. He could see one of her tits then, and almost everything else but her cunt, for both her brassiere and her panties were half torn away. It was great to see it. Her naked tit was nice, big, and the way it sagged wasn't bad at all. The edge of dark hair peeping from her torn panties was great too. But this vanquished Amazon, all dirty and worn out, was about as sexy as a boy when compared to the grimy but proudly gorgeous girl who stood triumphant before her.
"You win," Dotty panted. "You're the fucking mistress of the household," she said, and extended her hand in defeat.
Ellie, quite stunned by the enormity of her victory, reached out to take that conciliatory hand-and was rudely and roughly snatched forward to collide belly to belly with the soft but obviously tough body of Mrs. Dawkins.
"Uff!" The breath went right out of Ellie with the collision. Before she knew it two very strong arms were locked around her midriff and any air left in her lungs was forcefully expelled. Exhausted already, she now felt weaker than a kitten as she was bear-hugged and shaken at the same time by the grimacing woman until the strength was quickly sapped from her legs and made her even more helpless.
She tried to push at Mrs. Dawkins' soft shoulders, but they were hard as rock under the velvety skin. She tried to heave up with a solid knee between Mrs. Dawkins' legs, but she had no strength left, and Mrs. Dawkins' crotch was just up too high. It was up so high it was pressing hard against Ellie's. Ellie had a weird flash of Carl's cock, surrealistically double-ended and stuck in both of their cunts at once.
She faltered into unconsciousness. Dotty eased her down a bit and took a new grip around her waist, lifted her higher and began to shake her. Air rushed into Ellie's lungs as she was lifted and shaken by the fantastically powerful woman. Her bare feet were just grazing the ground now and her hands were weakly clinging to Mrs. Dawkins' shoulders. Her naked tits were quivering against Mrs. Dawkins' chest and her pubis was pressed close against her assailant's sweating, muscular belly. She could breath now, but very shallowly as Dotty shook all remaining resistance out of her. Both of their grimy bodies were slick with perspiration and Ellie, semiconscious, was slipping slowly down as Dotty held her fast in the punishing hold. And as she slipped her cuntlips dragged against the shredded nylon of Dotty's panties. Ellie was still straining back against the grip and it made her cunt feel hugely swollen, so much so that her clitty had extruded from it and was being mashed hard against Dotty's rippling abdominal muscles. More surrealistic pictures flashed through her bursting brain, all of them exquisitely beautiful and quite un-understandable as the completely dominant woman panted hotly against her throat and squeezed her squirming body with overwhelming force. Ellie found she was uttering words-"Oh-h-h. Yes. Oh-h. Yes, I give up!-until a wonderful feeling of all-over peace enveloped her and she was dropped from the warmth into the dirt.
CHAPTER NINE
The woman Alan gazed at so awestruck did not look like his mother. Her hair was in wild disarray and she was panting heavily and rivulets of sweat streaked white through her dirt-covered body, but this did not account for the change in her. Or for the way Alan looked at her. She was absolutely beautiful as she stood triumphant over the supine blonde. One of her gorgeous big tits hung completely bare and he could see much of the big brown nipple of the other one through the remnants of that torn bar cup. Her panties had been torn even more in the final round of her Amazon wrestling match and now all that remained was the crotch band and a side panel, held up by the bare elastic band about her waist. At her feet the blonde girl was totally naked and, oddly enough, softly smiling in her state of swooning, but Alan's snarling, panting mother was by far the more beautiful of the two. He'd even forgotten about the stiff prick in his pants as he hurried to her, saying, "Mom! Are you okay?"
"Fine," she said, stretching toward the sun, gloriously beautiful! "I feel just fine now."
He feel to his knees in the dirt beside her, gingerly touched a long scrape on her calf, and said, "She hurt you! Mom, you've got scratches and scrapes all over you!" he said, and his trembling hands touched her thighs and her bare buttock most tremulously.
"Oh, I'm all right," she said, and laughed and bent and kissed her son on the lips, more lingeringly than she's planned, for as she'd bent she'd seen that his prick was up very hard, and sticking out of his pants. That's another problem that blonde bitch has caused me, she said to herself with her lips on her son's and her whole being feeling marvelously alive and young and vibrant. "I'm all right," she said, rising from him and smiling at his raptly adoring face. "It's the girl who's out of it."
"I think she's dead!" said Alan, and quickly turned and bent over her to lay his ear against her softly heaving chest and listen for a heartbeat.
Ellie stirred her long legs, eyes still closed but smile deepening, and Dotty's anger smoldered anew. The bitch had taken her husband from her but she wasn't going to get her son too. "She's all right, dammit!" Dotty snapped. "You stand up and talk to me, young man. You have some explaining to do."
Alan took his cheek from the dirt-covered satin flesh and got up slowly, poking his prick back in his pants and clasping his hands in front of it. He felt it would never go soft again, not even as his mother shook a finger in his face and said, "Just what the hell were you doing behind the wood pile, beating your meat and peeking at that goddammed bitch! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What have you got to say?"
"I couldn't help it," he whined. "I was working and she came over and started in talking to me and I couldn't help but look up her dress and see her . . . her thing. She just smiled and lifted up her skirt. It really made me feel funny. And then she asked me if I wanted to see a show, and when I said I guessed so she lifted up her skirt in the back and went over and started washing clothes at the set tub. I had to look! I couldn't help it! It made me feel so. . . funny."
"Poor baby," said Dotty, and hugged him to her, dirt and all, and felt his sighs tingle through her and felt his sweet, hot little hands groping for understanding and finding more of the same kind of flesh that had made him feel so funny. She pushed him back, held his arms and said, "Did it make you feel funny . . . down below?"
He looked straight at her tits, slack-jawed, and murmured, "Uh-huh."
"Of course it did," she said, and hugged him and kissed him again. "And do you still feel funny, honey?"
"Lots more," he said, squirming his fists against his bone-hard pecker. "It hurts now. It really does!"
"Poor angel!" she exclaimed, and hugged him yet again, hard-pressed to squeeze him just as hard as she'd squeezed the fallen fifteen-year-old girl.
"Let me see. Let Mother see," she said, pushing his hands away and groping inside his pants for him, panting as hard as he was, though he was surely far too excited to notice that. "It shouldn't hurt. I'm sure nothing's wrong with my darling boy, but
I'd better see for myself," she said, thrilling at his every reaction as her hand found his marvelously hard little prick and brought it out into the sunlight with her.
He was wincing and gasping and going up on his toes, and Dotty knelt down before she fell down and examined the beautiful young prick in her hand up close. She could hardly speak and neither could he as she drew back the foreskin and squeezed the hard shaft, pulled down his trousers and included his balls in her inspection.
"It looks fine. Just fine!"
"Mom! Mom, I feel so funny!"
"And your little balls are just perfect, perfect!"
"They hurt the most, Mom! Your hand feels so good, but. . . uh-h-h . . . my balls just ache!" .
"They're so full. They're too full," she told him, panting, pushing back her tangled hair, down on her knees with the most beautiful little prick in the world in her hands.
"Do you play with yourself a lot, darling? Do you jerk off? Do you do this a lot?" she said, and she drew the foreskin back and forth over his flawless pink peckerhead, back and forth with uncontrollable sensuality.
"Never! This was the first time. Today.
Looking at her," he scornfully said.
Dotty inched closer on her knees, one hand sliding up the backs of his quaking legs and squeezing his tensed buttocks, the other still handling his hot, hard prick and his full, throbbing balls. "And do you have crazy dreams at night and wake up with warm sticky stuff in your jams? Do you, honey? You can tell me. I'm your Mom."
He nodded, panting ever faster. "Crazy dreams. About girls. About.. .about you!"
"Darling!" she moaned, and hugged him, actually felt his prick for a moment against her cheek and throat. "Tell me. I've got to know!"
"I dream about you . . . with Dad," he said. "And he's doing things to you. And I dream about you by yourself, and that's better, all by yourself and just in your underwear, dancing and smiling and looking right at me!"
"And do you ever dream that I. . . take my underwear off for you? And smile and dance with nothing on at all for you?"
"No! That'd be too much. But I do dream that you . . . you dance real close, and you keep right on dancing while I put my hand inside your panties and. . . and touch you!"
She could feel his touch, inside her shredded panties, and it gave her the craziest notions she's ever had in her life. She glanced behind her down the hill, saw nothing but open space beyond the unconscious girl, and she had to ask, "Have you dreamed about Ellie much?"
"No. Not at all," he said, looking down at that beautiful sexy girl and recalling his last night's dream in such vivid detail that his prick gave a jerk in his mother's moving fingers. "I hate her for making me feel so funny today and for getting me into trouble with you. And for making my.. . my prick and balls hurt so," he said, squirming them in his mother's loving hands, and wincing at the perfectly wonderful ache down there.
Again Dotty glanced over her shoulder. Not a soul in sight. Her mind was made up now, and she had warmth in her purring voice as she said, "I'm going to take the hurt away, darling. Mother's going to kiss your sweet prick and make it feel better, suck on it and make you feel really good."
"Oh, Mom! Oh, Mom.'! ! " he exclaimed, but she was already sucking his fine, hard prick, with no turning back. She settled down with her big seething hot bottom on the dirt and started sliding her pursed lips up and down the full length of hisprick pausing to suck on its lovely soft end and lick it, holding him firm in her roving hands.
It was the most delicious, the sexiest prick she'd ever sucked. In her youth she'd sucked cocks till she was sick of them and the j ism they spurted, but this very special one had her salivating wildly and lavishly employing every sweet sucking technique she thought she'd forgotten.
"Mom! Mom! Mom! I love you!" he cried, quaking all over and grasping her bobbing head, and making her suck him all the more lavishly.
She was dying for more of him. She longed to feel his throbbing balls rolling in her mouth, to French kiss deeply in his sweat-scented groins, to bend him over and French him even more deeply in his sweet asshole. But in the wonderful heat of her reborn excitement she could do nothing but suck his cock and suck his sock while his excitement soared as it never had before.
Cum! Cum! Cum for me!, she inwardly commanded, and he uttered a soul felt gasp and began to shoot.
It came with terrific force! The first jet of his semen squirted and skidded right on over her tongue and down her throat, bringing on a weird but definite climax to Dotty as she kept right on sucking for more. With increased urgency. She had the wild notion she could suck a full life span's cum from his prick, and thus free him of the troublesome need for women for all his remaining years.
It felt to Alan as if more than a lifetime's semen was gushing and shooting out of him. His cockhead felt positively huge in the suction of his mother's warm, living mouth, and his nuts felt as if they were contracting up inside his body with each heavy ejaculation from his cock. It went on and on, fantastically, as he stood sqaying in the sun and moaning, "Mo-m-m-m-m! Mom, that feels so good!"
She would gladly have sucked his prick right off. But with the ebbing of his deliciously invigorating semen came the partial return of her senses and she let his still stiff dick slip from her mouth to laugh and rough-house kisses all about his pink flushed loins. She couldn't keep from laughing. She felt like a giddy girl again, heart throbbing madly and body seeming to radiate with warm vitality.
He looked still in a daze as she rose to her feet. He looked beautifully boyish too, hair tousled and pants down around his ankles and moist white prick standing up. It made her feel how awful she must look, and took him by the hand and said, "Come help me get this dirt off me, darling. I must look a mess."
Alan tripped and fell over his pants, kicked out of them and followed after his wonderful, laughing, skipping mother. She went to the hose bib and turned it on, squealed and went on laughing as she held the gushing hose over her head and let it wash away the dirt of her triumphant battle. The grime peeled away as if by magic, transforming her into a gleaming wet, living marble statue. His half nudity forgotten, Alan watched her in rapt awe until she laughed and turned the hose on his loins.
He gasped, then grinned and sloshed the cold water all about his hot prick and balls, exclaiming, "It feels good!"
She turned the end of the hose inside what was left of her panties, waggled her eyebrows and said, "It sure does. We both got too hot, didn't we."
"Uh-huh," he said, staring straight at the big bubble of water that billowed out her crotch band and flowed down between her legs.
She cast the hose between them and stretched, dripping heavily, now knowing exactly what she was doing and committed to it. She turned and bent and presented her backside to him, saying, "Be a dear. Pick up the hose and wash my fanny for me. I just can't reach it."
Alan's hot gaze never left his mother's butt as he bent to pick up the bubbling hose. It was just half covered with nylon now, and the nylon was so soaked it was near transparent. Her panties had been torn diagonally across the seat, exposing the top of the crack of her ass, with the torn nylon hanging down like a flap between her panties' waistband and leg hole. He felt he might be in another of his dreams as he sprayed his mother's big round upturned ass with the water.
"Feels good!" she said, and wiggled it all around as she stood with her hands on her knees.
He grinned and put his thumb over the end of the hose, and she squealed and wriggled faster as he played a strong jet of water all over her butt and up between her legs.
"Oooo. That does feel good," she said, and she stood up straight with both feet wide apart, and drew her asscheeks up and apart with both hands. Alan crouched down and squirted the hose straight up between her legs, right against her cunt and her asshole!, and she giggled and squealed and shook the big globes she was clutching. "Inside now. Get me inside," she said.
He stood up and thrust the hose inside the torn seat of her panties, holding the end of it right up close in his fist so he could feel all he could of her slippery round softnesses. Her hips and buttocks she squirmed more slowly now, more luxuriously as the cool water bubbled and surged around her holes. She was pissing, and quite a lot, feeling marvelously good all over and knowing she'd be feeling better yet soon.
"Front too," she said, and turned to face him with her hands clasped behind her neck, his to wash as he chose. His face was splitting with his grin as he got down on his knees again and stuck the hose inside what was left of the front panel of her panties and worked the water and his hand all around. He even touched her hair!
She let him go right ahead and do it, and this plus her radiant smile led him to say, "I, uh I might as well just take your panties clear off and do it really good? I mean, they're all torn up and everything, and I just thought, uh.. . . "
"These?" she said, and plucked at the soddenly clinging garment. "These are my very best panties. But if you want to take 'em off.. . . "
She rolled the waistband halfway down over her soft, widely sweeping hips and replaced her hands behind her neck. Her hips were swaying and lilting before his glazed over eyes. He dropped the hose and reached up with both twitching hands, and his mother's warm chuckle sent chills up and down his spine as he continued the downward course of her panties that she had started.
They clung to her very wetly. He practically had to peel them off. But then there was her big hairy pussy pooping at him as she bent, placed a hand on his shoulder, and stepped out of her panties. And then there it was again, in full view, as she stood up once more so he could continue to wash her good.
It was a weird thing, her pussy. He didn't like the looks of it at all at first. There was so much hair, and unlike a guy, there really wasn't anything there to see. But then he learned that when he parted that hair with the hose water there was quite a bit to look at, and all of it more and more fascinating. Pink frilly lips, all soft and gleaming, with highly interesting convolutions within them. He couldn't quite see her hole, and that disturbed him, but he could see a thing like a miniature pink prick at the top of her slit, and he sure could tell how it tickled her when he squirted her there.
"Oooo. You're making me feel funny now," she said, hips stock still now as he played the water right there on her little prick. "It's cold, but it feels so-o-o-o good. That's Mother's clit. D'you see it!" she said, and most obligingly spread her cuntlips wide with her fingers so none of it could be missed. He even took the hose away so he could see it better.
"I feel so clean!" she said. "Clean enough for you to touch me there, if you wanted to. Just to see what a woman's all about." She giggled charmingly and said, "Clean enough for you to kiss me there."
His hand shook before his eyes as he lifted it, touched a finger to her clit. She gasped and said, "Oh, honey! You do have me feeling funny. Oh. Oh, my," she murmured, moving her hips again as he experimented with moving his finger.
He was doing things to her! No doubt, about it, he was making her feel nearly as wild good as she'd made him feel. And just with his finger.. . .
"Mom?"
"Yes, darling," she said, swaying closer. "What is it, dear? What do you want?"
"Should I.. . kiss it? Your clit? Like you kissed my d-dick?"
Her lips curled into a smile and her finger curled into his wet black hair. She said, "Yes, darling, you should. It's just what I want you to do. But don't just kiss it. Suck it. Suck my cunt," she purred, and drew him to it by a lock of his hair, and her sigh came up from her toes when he fastened his mouth to her and sucked.
He sucked and sucked, right on the spot, and felt each warm tremor that ran through her lovely wet body. Her cunt tasted like chlorine from the hose water, overlying another flavor for which there was no description at all. Her clit fit well in his mouth, and he quickly found that by tickling it with his tongue it did even more good things to her.
"Suck Mother's cunt. Yes, suck Mother's cunt!" said Dotty, thought he was already doing that very well. "It's been so fucking long since I've had it sucked. It's all clean and nice for you now, and it's so fucking goddammed good!" she exploded, widening her stance and holding him hard by the hair and jamming her cunt and clit up at him with uncontrollable snappings of her hips.
It scared him. For an insane moment he thought she was going to smother him with her twat. In his panic he tried to back off, but she held him firm, snarling, and he was frightened enough that he kept it up in fearful haste until she'd grunted and groaned in a savage manner and the very bland taste of her cunt had changed to something very strong.
"There!" Dotty grunted, right at the peak of her orgasm, and released her inexperienced cunt sucker to let him fall back on his butt on the ground. It hadn't been a knockout of an orgasm as far as duration went, but it was more than good enough for a start with him. Whew! Her own son eating her box, she thought with a grin, as she stood back surveying him and keeping the warm tinglings in her cunt alive with her hand. And that was only the beginning with him.. . .
CHAPTER TEN
Alan had never realized what a magnificent woman his mother really was. She smiled and stepped toward him over the muddy ground, then snatched up the hose and turned it on him. He yelped and tried to roll away from it, but she followed him steadily with it, pouring forth on him a torrent of cold water and gay laughter. He twisted and squirmed through the mud like an eel, then in desperation caught one of her legs and tumbled her to the ground with him with surprising ease. She kept squirting both of them indiscriminately while they rolled from the mud to the grass, with him feeling all the power in her body that she'd used to subdue the fallen Ellie.
And then on the wet grass their rollings suddenly stopped, and Alan found himself looking down into the lovely face before him that was no longer laughing. Her look was serious, perhaps troubled as they lay their with legs and arms intertwined and wet bodies panting together. His stiff prick was nested hotly against her pulsing loin, and it itched badly. He felt paralyzed, didn't know what to do, until he saw her pink tongue tip come out to tremble and trace the outline of her lips, and then he succumbed to a mad impulse and kissed her hard as he could on the mouth.
"Oh, Alan!" she breathed, when the fierce kiss ended. "We shouldn't," she said, but her hand was creeping down between them toward his burning prick, and his body was shifting to make room for it.
She took hold of his prick and he said, "Oh, Mom!"
"We shouldn't," she repeated, "but we have to!"
"Yes! Mom! Oh! Oh, gosh!" he cried, and then before he knew it he was fucking!, inside a cunt and fucking hell out of it!
He was fucking her insanely! He couldn't stop! He'd seen his father do it in her rear, nice and slow until right at the end. But Alan, he was fucking away at her like a trip hammer on a rivet and they'd only just begun. And he couldn't slow down!
"Mmmmmm. Oh, yes, we just had to do this," Dotty purred, moving her big ass with slow luxurious squelchings on the wet grass, and taking the hard fast pounding of his little pecker with gloating ease. In Alan's huge excitement he was all too frequently missing her hole, but the hard stabbings anywhere in her crotch were highly gratifying for the time being, especially coming from him. His whole problem was his huge excitement. He was trying to do it all at once, banging away at her like a madman and pawing at her tits and trying to clumsily kiss her. His solution would come with experience. And she was just the one to give it to him. Enjoying it all the way.
"Darling, that feels wonderful!" she said, for it really did feel good. "You'll be the best little lover in the world before long," she said, bumping and grinding with her hips, while he continued to bang away like mad at her. "Just don't rush it," she told him, and had a very sweet orgasm from their first union before he collapsed on her panting raggedly.
"Did I.. . do it right? Was it.. . okay? he asked when he could.
"Beautiful. All you need is experience," she said, and managed to squeeze his little pecker with her commodious cunt and make his spent body twitch and jerk. "But we'd better get up now and clean up and get dressed. Your father might come back early."
"He doesn't.. . scare me," said Alan, and rolled over from her on his back, spread-eagled and still panting, with his dick still stiff and hard as could be.
"He will when he takes a stick after you," she said, and he sat up and looked down the empty road. "Which reminds me," she continued, "we're not done with little Ellie yet."
His face lit up like a light bulb. He turned to look at the recumbent naked girl, some twenty feet away from them, and to his mother he said, "You said I needed experience. Could I . . . . get it from her?"
"No! Definitely not!"
"Aw, Mom! Pop's been screwing her. Why can't I? Gee whiz, Mom, how am I gonna get experienced enough to be able to really do it to you right and really cum if I don't have somebody to practice with? Huh?"
"Not with her. I'd rather you did it with one of the girls at school. No, not with her.
The very idea!"
"Aw, Mom! Pop does it to her. I know he does! I seen 'em! If he can, why can't I?? ? And then I'll get really good at it, and I can do it to you really good. Aw, please, Mom. None of the girls at school will even look at me. I don't know how to even talk to 'em. All they care about is the football players, and there she is, the ugly old thing, and why can't I practice on her? Huh?"
His idea did have some merit. Alan had the energies of a sexed-up yo-yo but neither the experience nor the size to do Dotty the most good. He could get those by using the girl, and she wasn't much good for anything else. And with Alan banging away at her at every opportunity, she'd be less available for her philandering but still beloved husband. "I think you might have a good idea there, honey," she said. "Let's talk it over with darling Ellie. You bring the hose and I'll get a fresh stick."
Ellie was dreaming of a peaceful ocean scene when the tidal wave awoke her. She sat up choking and spluttering, hearing the laughter above her and then seeing Alan and Dotty Dawkins as they stood at her feet. Alan, dressed only in a wet tee shirt, was squirting the hose water right in her face, then down between her legs, then into her face again. Mrs. Dawkins was smirking at his cruel horseplay and leaning casually on a limber lath, looking menacing though she was clad in only her torn brassiere. The water felt good in a way, for Ellie was filthy and hot and sore, but she held her hands up against its stream and said, "Please stop. I'd rather do it myself."
They both laughed at this and Alan put his thumb over the hose and squirted the water against her harder. She was spluttering, unable to defend herself from it, and so she spun about on her bare buttocks in the mud and presented her back to them to be washed. Her head was yanked back by its hair and Mrs. Dawkins' harsh voice said, "Stand up, you! Stand up and let Alan get that mud off your filthy body!"
Ellie stood up. She was intimidated by Dotty Dawkins. She felt she could have beaten the older woman in a fair fight, but she knew for sure that she was the one who'd been beaten, and with a most peculiar ending to their all-out cat fight.
She stood with her arms at her sides, just as Mrs. Dawkins commanded her to do, while the leering Alan, with his penis stuck out like a fat white worm, flowed water down over her head and back and shoulders and on her fanny and belly and even up between her legs. She hated being dirty and would have loved doing this for herself.
Even as it was this was better than being dirty, she told herself, while she stood there naked in the open field for the humiliating ablutions of the idiot boy with the hose.
Being naked before them? That hardly mattered for they'd both seen her before that way. Alan's squirting the hose up her pussy and fanny? That didn't matter, for when she closed her eyes it almost felt good. Dotty standing there with that threatening slat? She'd already taken Mrs. Dawkins' worst.. . or had she?? ?
"Okay, Alan, that's enough," said Mrs. Dawkins, and Alan was quick to throw the gushing hose aside. "Stand at ease," she said to Ellie, "back straight, feet a yard apart, hands clasped behind your back."
Ellie did so, dripping wet, long hair streaming down her back and shoulders and titties.
"Now, Alan, these are her tits," said Mrs. Dawkins, and pointed at them with her wooden slat. "Feel of them, familiarize yourself with them, and always remember that a woman's tits are one of the best places to start in on her."
"They're really firm! They're almost hard!" he said, while Ellie stood there fighting nausea and willing her nipples to become flaccid under his fumbling touch.
But this was not to be. The cold water had made them erect, and now the waves of revulsion sweeping through her maintained them in that state.
"Suck on them," said Mrs. Dawkins, and again he was quick to obey her, going back and forth between the turgid pink nipples like a ravenous insect.
"Feel her bod' while you suck her tits. Women like that. Even her," said Mrs. Dawkins, and now a hot hand on Ellie's belly and another on her back and ass were added to her mortification on the bright early summer's day.
"Now see if you can find her clit with your finger, honey. Tickle it and make her cunt all wet and nice for some fucking."
Ellie opened her eyes and her mouth and said, "Please, Mrs. Dawkins. I don't think I can stand any more of this."
"Oh? Oh?" said Dotty, moving around behind her. 'Then bend right over, Miss Prissy-Pants, and see if you can stand this better."
THUH-WHACK! The moment Ellie bent there was a searing swath of fire laid across her bare ass. It hardly even hurt. I was just red heat and probably a million splinters that made her bottom swell up like a balloon. THUH-WHACK again, and the tears spilled forth from Ellie's eyes as she straightened up before the grinning boy.
His finger scrabbling in her slit felt good. Anything felt good after the searing she'd had from the indomitable Mrs. Dawkins. Her own hands felt good clasped over her scalded fanny too. And so did the sunshine. She cast about in her mind for all sorts of things that felt good, but nothing she could come up with felt quite as good as the fingers probing and toying about with her clitty.
Little Alan was bouncing up and down in his eagerness with his new toy. "Should I kiss her there, Mom? Should I suck her clit?" he eagerly asked, and in spite of herself, Ellie felt her cunt opening up like a flower at dawn.
"Certainly not! Why would you ever want to do a thing like that?"
"So's I can learn how to do it better to you."
"Alan!" she snapped. "You haven't done anything to me. And you're not going to. And you!" she said to Ellie. "If you ever breathe a word to anyone about any of this, I won't use this stick on you-I'll use a baseball bat! All right, Alan. Go ahead," she sighed. "I just can't deny my big boy anything."
The first hot stab of his tongue had Ellie thinking she was going to pee. And the second had hot chills coursing everywhere through her naked body. It was the weirdness of it all, she told herself, the totally alien situation of having the teenaged idiot sucking on her clitty while his domineering mother stood by and watched. That was what was giving her these feverish sweeps of false ecstasy-but she knew very well it was his tongue.
His lips, too. Good God, they fit around her clitty to perfection, and they knew just the right amount of diabolical suction to apply to keep those hot chills rising. Add to that his tongue, flicking and swirling relentlessly over her swelling clitty and there was no way she could fight down the growing ecstasy. He was spreading her cuntlips with his thumbs to get still more of her body going, and she was breathing much harder in spite of herself and restlessly rubbing her palms over taut and trembling hips. She was rising toward the real true ecstasy she'd only known with Carl when, THUH-WHACK!, her bare bottom was seared once again.
"Hands behind you!" Mrs. Dawkins snapped and Ellie obeyed her at once.
The pain was nothing. She could massage that away with her palms. It was the ecstasy that mattered. She could go on and on with it forever, letting it slowly rise to fill her. Or she could rise to meet it, help it, and this she did, secret grin on her face, very softly rotating her hips to move her sucked-on clit in young Alan's lips.
"She's starting in to taste funny. Like you did," said Alan, backing off at a most critical time for Ellie. "Can I fuck her now, Mom?"
Mrs. Dawkins said, "Of course you can, honey. But first you better warm her up some more. With this," she said, and held out the wooden slat.
He rose up taking it in his hand. He grinned from it to Ellie to his mother and said, "Can I swat her with it? Really?"
Mrs. Dawkins nodded. "Really you can. And then you can fuck her.
"Please, Mrs. Dawkins," said Ellie, all seething with nervous frustration, and tragically feeling those sweet ecstasies ebbing away. "Haven't I been spanked enough?"
Dotty came to her and touched her cheek. She really was a beautiful girl, and the duration of her son's cunt licking hadn't really surprised Dotty. She was beautiful and young and submissive and awakened to sex, and she had a very sensuous mouth. Close to her now, Dotty could most vividly recall the feeling of her struggling body clasped to hers in their wrestling match. It made her wonder if she'd underestimated the sensuality of Ellie's pretty, trembling mouth.
"Do you think you've been spanked enough?" she said. "After fucking my husband, do you really think you've been spanked enough?"
Ellie looked down at the big breasts that had suckled young Alan, and that Mrs. Dawkins had given so freely to the man she'd married. And she shook her head, ashamed.
"That's right," said Dotty, clasping the girl's upper arms with a gentleness she didn't inwardly feel. "The question is, do you want Alan to do it or will it be me who lays the wood to you?"
Ellie looked up into Mrs. Dawkins' eyes, and still saw the glint of anger there. Now she felt the gentle fingers dig deep into her arms, and she shivered and shook her head and said, "Alan. Let Alan do it, if he wants to."
Dotty kissed her cheek. Wonderful soft skin! She slipped a hand round her slim, tensed waist and said, "We'll do it on the back porch. More comfortable there. And Alan won't be too hard on you with the slat."
"Like heck I won't!" said the boy behind Ellie, and the swish of the wood through the air made her shiver and edge closer to Dotty Dawkins.
Dotty sat down on the second step of the wooden porch and had Ellie kneel on the walk before her. Alan was right behind Ellie, both prick and wood posed and ready. Dotty took Ellie's hands in hers and placed them on her knees, saying, "Hold onto me while he spanks you, Ellie. It'll make it easier for you."
"Y-Yes, Mrs. Dawkins," said Ellie, with a trepidations look over her shoulder.
"Easy does it. Just relax," said Dotty, and slid the girl's warm hands up her thighs till they were trembling against the soft pads of her hips. "Just lay your head on my lap and hold on," she said, and her heart almost went out to the girl as she saw her bite her trembling lower lip and close her eyes and obey.
The girl's cheek felt very nice against Dotty's thigh, her warm breath tickling sweetly there.
THWACK! "OH!"
The girl's damp head burrowed against Dotty's warm tummy and her hands dug deep into soft hips. Dotty smiled down on her and smoothed her hands over sweet young shoulders and arms.
THWACK! "EEE!"
She had a beautiful white vee back and a perfectly round bottom, turning crimson now, but her ragged breathing and the few tears she was shedding against Dotty's hairy loins were better than the view. THWACK! "OH!"
Her outcry was weaker and so were her clutching hands, but her hot breath in the hirsute hollow where her face lay was appreciably stronger.
THWACK! "Ah-h-h!"
Her arms encircled Dotty's hips for something more to cling to and she was moving her anguished head in a delightful way. Even her rib cage and the side swells of her tits felt good between Dotty's knees now. The girl was almost ready, and Dotty already was.
THUH-CRACK!, went the slat, breaking in half as Alan vigorously responded to his mother's head nodding, and Ellie didn't utter a sound. She just clung harder to her only support, shuddering and leaning forward till that sensuous mouth of hers was open and panting against Dotty's soft abdomen.
"That'll be enough," said Dotty, though it was just the start of things between herself and this girl's warm mouth.
"Aw, Mom!" said Alan. "There's plenty more sticks in the pile!"
"That will be enough!" Dotty sternly said. "Now get some clothes on and get back to your chores. Gracious, how much do you think a poor orphan girl can stand?"
"At least I get to fuck her!" he said, and was down on his knees behind her at once, jamming and pushing at her rosily inflamed bottom with his hard little pecker.
"Oh-h-h! Oh, please! I'm sorry!" said the girl, looking up at Dotty with tear filled eyes, jerking and clinging to her as Alan pounded vigorously away at her.
Dotty smiled and brushed back her hair, hugged her to her tits and said, "It's all right. After all, I promised him. That's enough, Alan!" she snapped. "Ellie needs some rest now. Quit it I say!"
"Aw, Mom!"
"Goddamnit, there's more slats out there for you, too!"
He drew back at that, reluctantly, and then was grinning like an imp as he said, . "Boy! That was really tight! When can I do it again?"
"When I say so. Maybe never. Come inside, Ellie, dear," she said, and helped the weeping, shivering girl to her feet. Her young body was warm, wonderfully warm against Dotty's, as she led her inside and up the stairs, comforting her all the way, promising things would be better as long as she was a good girl.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was the same bedroom that Carl had first done it to her in, and that made Ellie feel strange. It was strange too to have Mrs. Dawkins comforting her, but not so strange that she thought of urning away from her only friend in the world.
Her bottom was very hot and swollen now. Again Mrs. Dawkins proved her new friendship by soothing away at least some of the heat with cold cream. Mrs. Dawkins sat on the dresser bench to do it, and Ellie stood before her, looking over her shoulder to watch the progressive diminishing of the crimson blotches under Mrs. Dawkins' knowing hands. Mrs. Dawkins kept talking to her while she did it, and it was more than just nice to hear a warm voice w ich made no demands of her. All she talked about was how happy her household could be if Ellie fit in as a go d girl, willing and hardworking and cooperative in every way. But the very nicest thing of all she said was that Ellie could call her Dotty, and that she hoped they'd be real good friends in a very short time. With no more spankings, unless Ellie truly deserved them.
"It feels so much better now," said Ellie and she gingerly smoothed her palm where Dotty's had been working, over taut round flesh that was merely pink now, and that felt extra smooth from all the nice cold cream.
"Nice enough to sit down here?" said Dotty, and patted the bench beside her, and moved over.
Ellie sat down beside her. She felt like she was with her mother again, but far closer to this woman than ever she had been with her mother. They brushed out their hair and talked and giggled, just like a pair of best girlfriends. They put make-up and perfume on, and Ellie felt better and better. Then Dotty admired the shape of Ellie's titties, with her hands as well as with her words, and Ellie glowed with pride and sat up straighter.
"Yours are really nice too," she said. "They're nice and big." It was Dotty's turn to sit up straighter before the mirror. "So big I have to wear a bra all the time. But not now," she said, and turned her back to Ellie. "Unhook it, will you? It's so torn it's not doing any good anyway."
Ellie's hands felt good working at the snap. Dotty had played around with other girls when she was growing up, and she'd guiltily enjoyed it, but she'd never had such a naive and lovely one as this at her complete disposal. And she'd only thought in the past about what she had in mind for Ellie on this fine afternoon.
"Now you can be my bra," she said, and took Ellie's hands and led them around till they were cupping her soft, mature tits, with the nipples that were not so soft at all. "Feel nice?" she said, grazing her back against Ellie's stiff nipples, and shucking the bra down her arms.
"Oh, yes," said Ellie, and she meant it. "I've never felt anything so soft and warm and . . . and just plain nice!"
"Mmmmmm. You're sweet," said Dotty, and turned to peck a kiss on Ellie's sensuous lips from over her soft shoulder. "And now you see why men like to play with our titties. They feel good to them, that's all. And of course it feels very nice for us, too," she said, and made a graceful turn on the bench until she was facing the smiling, wide-eyed girl.
She easily returned Ellie's hands to her tits, and she placed hers on Ellie's. "I love titties. Don't you?"
"I.. . I never thought of it before now. I guess I do."
"You have so much to learn. But you're still so very young. When I was young-younger than you are now-me and my girlfriend used to play with each other's titties, like we're doing now. But way back then we were doing it to help make 'em grow. Or at least that's what we told each other," she said with a coy little leer.
"You really did it . . . because it felt nice?"
"Mm-hmm-m-m-m. Look. Doesn't this feel nice? And look nice too?" she said, and she lifted her big tits till their corrugated brown ends were kissing Ellie's pink ones, and she smiled into Ellie's blinking eyes as she squirmed them together. "Nice?" she said, and she shifted her torso about to let their tits kiss of themselves, while with her hands she smoothly described the firm contours of Ellie's shapely waist and hips.
"Real nice," Ellie breathed, feeling ever so funny as she hesitantly imitated her new friend.
"It's all right. You can touch me. All over if you like," Dotty smiled, and pressed Ellie's near-virgin hands more warmly against her flesh. "We can even kiss," she said, and she parted her lips wide before they left Ellie's field of vision and melted most warmly against an opening mouth that was just as sensuous as she'd known it would be.
Ellie was galvanized by the kiss. It was so much softer, sweeter than she'd expected. She felt she could go on kissing forever, with her nipples as well as her mouth. Her lips tried to cling on as, all too soon Dotty backed away. The older woman got up from the bench, big tits swaying in a fascinating way, and said, "Come on. We'll be more comfortable on the bed."
They kissed and kissed there, writhing softly and warmly together. Ellie didn't realize how wet her pussy was until Dotty's thigh was against her there, working the swollen lips apart and spreading the moisture and the growing itch. Everywhere Ellie touched was pure the point of feeling just funny, and continuing on beyond that without a thought.
Then quite abruptly Dotty pushed away from her, shaking her head and sighing, and saying, "We better quit, dammit.
You're getting me hot, as if you didn't know it."
"Hot? But I didn't mean to. We were just . . . Oh, Dotty, I really didn't mean to at all!" said Ellie, hotter than could be herself, and not knowing at all what to do about it.
"You didn't mean to." Dotty mimicked her words. "If you didn't mean to you wouldn't have been necking with me like that. And you wouldn't have gotten my poor pussy so itchy and wet. Just feel. Feel how wet it is," she said, and once again Ellie's hand was taken in hers, this time to touch a very secret spot.
"Dotty, you're just sopped!" said Ellie, feeling further, feeling more, quite captivated by the similarities and the subtle differences in this and her own wet cunt.
"Don't tell me you're not," Dotty smirked, and Ellie gasped with shocked delight as her dear, dear friend's hand delved between her opening legs for her most secret spot.
But it wasn't so secret at all, not after what all Carl and even Alan had done to it. And so Ellie was more than ready to comply when Dotty wrinkled her pretty nose and said, "Come on, kid. Let's get up where we can really do it to each other. It'll be fun. And I really need it."
They got up on their knees, facing each other, each of them terrifically excited. Wet fingers returned to wetter cunts at once, and under Dotty's tutelage Ellie extended her tongue to fence with Dotty's and liberally played with her titties with her free hand.
"You want to cum? You want to cum this way?" Dotty panted between their hot, hot kisses.
"Yes!" said Ellie before she could think. "If you do. Any way at all!" she said, though she thought she'd been cumming all the time.
"Plenty of time to do it this way later. You'll be with us for a while. And with my very special vibrator too. Mmmmm, you'll love that. Oh, yes, we'll do it any way and every way. But you know the best way of all. And that's the way you're going to do it now."
Ellie winced as Dotty's fantastic fingers left her cunt. Dotty sighed and lay back on the rumpled bed. She opened her legs there, splayed her juicy cuntlips wider with her fingers, and said, "Come on, Ellie. Now's the time. Give me more of your sweet kisses. Give me more of them right here," she said, roiling and rubbing her clitty with two fingers, leering and smirking and licking her lips at the hesitant girl.
"I don't know," said Ellie. She was fingering herself now, quite unconsciously, but her fingers weren't producing nearly the same results Dotty's had.
"You mean you just don't know how. You know how you do it. You know how to suck cunt. Just like you heard me tell Alan to do it to you."
"You . . . Is that why you had him do it?" she said, wide-eyed, shocked, enthralled. "So I'd know how to . . . do it to you?"
"Don't ask questions, darling. Just do it. Just kiss my cunt-like a good little girl."
Ellie knelt there panting and playing with herself and staring at the big cunt that stared back at her. She knew she shouldn't do this. She didn't know how she and Dotty had gotten this far, but she still knew the rights and wrongs about homosexuality. But that big cunt was very tempting somehow. And so were Dotty's words as she lounged back on the bed, big tits lolling softly on her chest, fingers working leisurely in that strangely beckoning cunt.
"You . . . you won't tell, will you?" said Ellie, and her hand left her cunt as she took a step closer on one knee.
Dotty shook her head. "Never in a million years. No one. No one at all. Come, darling. Don't be foolish. You'll love it. Yes. Yes-s-s-s," she said, and the hiss turned to a sigh as her hand curled round Ellie's blonde head and pulled her the last few inches to her steaming hot cunt.
It was awful. The fetid scent of it alone nearly gagged poor Ellie. But all she could do was lick and lick and lick quite feverishly and hope somehow she could lick the taste away, for Dotty's hand most firmly held her to her task. She thought the acrid flavor would never diminish, and perhaps it never did. Perhaps Ellie only got used to it, but nevertheless she found the slick and swollen tissues of Dotty's cunt more and more palatable, and the textures of the tissues very nice indeed.
"Oh, yes-s-s-s-s," Dotty purred, massaging the nape of the girl's neck now rather than holding it captive. "Now you're getting with it, you good little girl, even though you are forgetting what I said was the most important part."
Ellie's lips were immediately circling Dotty's big clitty, and her tongue was working along with her suction. She liked it a lot right away. Dotty's cunt wasn't so strong there, for one thing, and for another and more important thing Dotty was so sensitive there. There was lots of texture to her clit too, but best of all licking her right there made her do and say such crazy sexy things.
"Oh, honey, honey, honey!" she cried, and pulled her legs up with her hands just as far as she could. "That feels so fucking good I could SCRE-E-E-E-E-EAM!" Her legs flopped down beside Ellie and Ellie immediately pushed them wide apart, hunkering closer, sucking more ardently. She began writhing like a snake and thrusting her cunt up and panting, "Gimme that big fat fucking orgasm, baby. Make me feel it. All over. Big . . . fat. . . OR-gasm!" she said, and now she was thrashing like an alligator.
Ellie had never seen anyone act like that in her life. Except perhaps for herself, when Carl had her on this very bed. It was fascinating to watch her that way, and that Ellie was the one who was doing such a good thing for her. So she lifted her head and scrambled about on the bed and in less than a moment had her knees straddling Dotty's ecstasy-ridden face. She turned away from Dotty's waiting cunt before her to say, "Look! This way you could do it to me while I do it to you! You could give me an orgasm too! You'll just love it!"
Dotty had almost swooned at the sudden departure of Ellie's mouth from her cunt. Then her eyes fluttered open and there was Ellie's cunt, right there on top of her. She had no intention of eating cunt. Never had, never would. She said, "I . . . what'd you say?" And Ellie excitedly started again.
Dotty's hands had naturally drifted to Ellie's thighs, then her hips. Touching was one thing, sucking cunt quite another. Still it was a pretty cunt, as cunts went. A shaft of sunlight through the tree outside accounted for that. It turned her fine smooth ass a blushing pink, and it turned her curly wet cunt hairs into threads of gold, laden with tiny sparkling diamonds. Down the center of the field of gold and diamonds lay the bright pink split of her cunt, taut and perfect in every detail, even to the little clitoris so anxious to be sucked. Dotty had never seen such human beauty in her life, and as Ellie chattered on, she reached out her tongue to touch one of the diamonds.
It was made of Ellie's cunt juice of course. Dotty should have known right away. And she should have known she'd like the taste of cunt too. She stuck her tongue out and into the bright pink for a deeper taste of it, and lovely warm shivers ran from Ellie's fanny through Dotty's hands.
"Ooooo-o-o-oo, that feels nice," Ellie purred, and shivered and wiggled all over. "Do it there a little more before you do it on my clitty and give me one of those great, big, fucking orgasms. I don't know if I could stand it there right now!"
Hearing her own words coming back at her, Dotty was momentarily stunned. Then she squeezed Ellie's ass and said, "Any way you want it, doll. I'll give you that big fat orgasm. And you give me more too."
Dotty hauled down at the looming beauty and plunged her tongue through the pink of it. Who needed a clit to suck on when there was luscious juice to taste. She tasted right to the source of it, right to Ellie's little tight fuck-hole before Ellie got over that first shock of rapture and returned to sucking her clit. She had an awful vision of Carl coming into the room. He'd shout, "What the hell?? " and go for his shotgun. Dotty saw that vision for only a moment before Ellie's hot lips brought her back to stunning reality. Dotty was sucking ravenously on Ellie's hot clit, and she was still tickling her tongue around Ellie's hole. She widened the swath of her fully extended tongue, farther and farther, and paused in this only to suck Ellie's clit. Once again Ellie's amorous efforts were doubled, and she was frenziedly licking out Dotty from her clit to her asshole and beyond. All she'd been doing before was as child's play compared to this, and it was Dotty who was showing her how. Dotty was so thrilled by it that she kept on going for a few seconds after she heard the door slam open and Carl shout, "What the hell?? "
She managed to turn and look, though not so easily as Ellie did, and there he was at the door. Arms flung out from his sides, eyes bulged out with shock, he looked for a moment longer and then turned and clattered down the stairs. He's gone to get the shotgun, Dotty thought, to get me for stealing his girl.
Ellie wasn't thinking. Back swayed and blonde hair hung down about her face, she gyrated her hips in quick little circles and panted, "I can't stop cumming yet. Oh-h-h, he saw us. What'll we do?"
"We have one more orgasm," said Dotty, and pulled Ellie's cunt and her face down against her, and soon forgot about the shotgun pellets soon to rip through their glistening hides.
Carl came rushing back tearing open the box that held his new camera. He knelt in the doorway to stuff the film in. It was the sexiest damned thing he'd ever seen in his life going on in his bed, and he meant to record it. He'd bought camera and film to take some shots of Ellie, to look at when she was long gone and he was an old, old man. But now his little darling had opened up a whole new sexual world to him, one that would keep him going till they were all ancient. He started taking pictures and changing flash cubes, working ever closer to the bed.
Dotty saw the flash but didn't hear the explosion. She saw several more pictures before she realized what was happening. Then and only then did she shove Ellie aside and shout, "You filthy old man taking pictures! You ought to be ashamed! You want to ruin this girl if somebody sees 'em? You want to ruin us? Why don't you be a man and just beat your meat instead of taking dirty pictures of us?"
Carl excitedly pointed and heatedly said, "Eat each other some more. Christ, this is a helluva thing. Don't you want to see sexy pictures of yourself when you're old and gray. Ellie, eat her some more. Let's see you make her cum again. That'll make a great lezzie shot."
"No!" Dotty shouted, and sat up. "You bastard!" she snapped at him, and he scowled back and Ellie sat nervously back on her haunches. "You could ruin a girl for life with a picture of her going down on an old lady like me."
"Oh, I don't mind," said Ellie.
"Shut up! Ellie, you don't even know what's good for you. And as for you," she snapped at Carl, "don't call Ellie a damned lezzie!"
"And he shouldn't have said you were old, too," said Ellie. She reached out her hand and touched Dotty, smiled and said, "You're not old and you're not a lezzie either. And you're awfully sweet to me."
Dotty looked her over. Beautiful girl, in every way. She grinned and patted her rump, and said, "Lie down, hon. Let him get his damn pictures of me being really sweet to you."
Dotty was truly eating cunt now. It was easier to do from down below, and very nearly as thrilling. Three more flashbulbs burst before she really got into it and had Ellie going right out of her mind. One more burst before the pause that told her Carl was tired of playing with his-new toy.
Now the sexiest sight in the world was his wife's waggling bottom, snow white but split with the deep cleft that had been so thoroughly washed by the tongue of their foster daughter. He couldn't resist it. It was even sexier than the writhing, cumming foster daughter herself. Carl didn't even hear the crashing in the tree branches outside as he fitted his cock in her cunt and started fucking her, good and proper.
Moments later the door burst open and there was Alan, ripping his clothes off and shouting, "I WANNA DO IT TOO! YOU SAID I COULD, POP, AND SO DID YOU, MOM! I SAW IT ALL FROM THE TREE, JUST LIKE WHEN I WATCH YOU AND MOM DO IT, AND I WANT TO DO IT TOO! I GOT TO!! ! "
"Not around me, you don't," said the panting Carl, and reached back and swept his naked son toward the head of the bed. "She's got a perfectly good mouth. Use it. But don't bother me, boy, I'm busy!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was the camera, several weeks later, that kept them together. Henry Burnside had randomly picked a hot, midsummer afternoon for his surprise inspection of the Dawkins as foster parents. And when he made a surprise inspection he believed in keeping it a secret. He approached via a little used route, parked his car behind an abandoned barn, and settled down with binoculars to see how Ellie was being treated.
Most foster parents were model parents, but once in a great while he encountered those who thought more of the state money than the child, and who subsequently treated the foundlings most shabbily indeed. He could pretty well determine this through his binoculars and then intervene and place the child elsewhere. He used a little checklist on a clipboard to rate the family as foster parents, and he was prepared to spend several hours secretly observing a foster situation. He was ready to stay longer than this in the case of Ellie Olson, for he felt he might have been hasty in placing her with the Dawkins family in place of Duck Lie Fong. He settled down with his binoculars and his clipboard and lunch in a paper bag and focused in on the Dawkins place.
He frowned as soon as he saw the girl. She was weeding a vegetable patch behind the house, wearing work gloves and what looked like a discarded man's shirt. It was torn and very frayed, a far cry from the summery little pinafore dress that would have rated 100 on his scale of foster home values. But she seemed happy enough at her work, and she smiled warmly up when Carl Dawkins came toward her from the house.
She knelt and he stood while they exchanged some words. Henry frowned as he saw Mr. Dawkins vulgarly scratch at his genitals right there in front of the girl. His jaw dropped wide open though when the smiling Ellie reached up and opened his pants for him so that he could urinate right there in the garden!
But he didn't urinate! He couldn't, because his penis was half erect and getting harder even as Henry looked.
The girl was masturbating him, right there in the garden! She was still kneeling, smiling, while he stood there with his thumbs stuck in his belt and grinned down at her like a pig. It was the worst thing Henry had seen in fourteen years of placement work, and he set the binoculars down and scribbled furiously on his clipboard. He looked back at the scene at the Dawkins' house, then scribbled some more, for the girl was fellating her foster parent!
He felt compelled to watch, revolted, appalled. Through horrified eyes he saw it from start to finish, when the grinning Mr. Dawkins was tucking his spent penis back in his jeans and the girl was still kneeling there licking her lips. He simply couldn't believe his eyes then when Mr. Dawkins went strolling back toward the house and the girl put her gloves back on and returned to her weeding.
It would mean jail for Carl Dawkins and psychotherapy for the poor girl, no doubt about that. Henry Burnside indignantly jotted more notes, then returned to his field glasses in an effort to see if he could determine if Mrs. Dawkins was aware of her husband's gross misconduct and therefore liable to incarceration herself.
Ellie Olson was working again as if nothing had happened. He wondered if he'd actually seen it happen or if he needed a vacation. Then the girl's head spun around. He saw it happen several times before she got to her feet and seemed to address a row of hedges by the house. And then from the hedges came young Alan Dawkins, grinning in a vacuous way and sidling closer to young Ellie. Ellie seemed to be scolding him, and then as he came closer still he picked up a small dirt clod and tossed it at her, and her scolding increased. Still grinning, he came right up to her, knelt at her feet, and seemed to be apologizing. Then to Mr. Burnside's stunned horror Ellie took a step toward the boy's upraised hands, lifted the front of her tattered shirt, and the boy began to perform cunnilingus on her.
"This can't be. It just can't be," said Burnside, alternating between his binoculars and his clipboard. He saw and recorded it all, noted that the girl had no underpants on beneath the shirt, and that she certainly acted as if this wasn't the first time she'd permitted, nay encouraged, such a social outrage to be perpetrated. And then to compound the horrid situation, she lay right down and allowed him to mount her right there beside the row of corn that shielded them from the main road.
Unbelievable! Then more unbelievable still when Mrs. Dawkins appeared in her housedress, only to whip it off over her head and join them!
She straddled the girl's writhing body and presented her naked loins to her son and he kissed her there! INCEST!! ! , Henry scrawled on his pad, and returned to the binoculars to see the Dawkins woman and the girl performing soixante-neuf, with the Dawkins boy simultaneously engaging in sodomy with his own mother!
Henry Burnside didn't know what to think, whether he'd delivered a nymphomaniac to the Dawkin's house or whether they'd brainwashed her into such monstrous sex acts. All he knew for sure was that he had to get her out of there at once, without benefit of any paperwork.
Amazement followed on amazement when Ellie greeted him most cheerfully as he got out of his car at the Dawkins' house. The shirt she had on was even more tattered than he'd thought, and her smile was more brilliant than the field glasses had shown. The misguided girl most courteously led him into the house, and there he was greeted by the Dawkins' family, Carl shaking his hand, Alan grinning in the background, Dorothy offering him lemonade. Spluttering in his indignation, Henry curtly told them what he'd seen, and the friendly atmosphere had become quite subdued by the time he ordered Ellie to get her things and come with him.
Carl Dawkins sighed and surveyed his little family, nodding to each of them and saying, "We don't want Ellie to leave here. And she don't want to go. And we sure don't like it when you come here all mad and everything and won't even stick around long enough to enjoy our hospitality. Get him!" he said, and Dotty and Alan at once had hold of him by his arms.
Carl directed it all. Dotty held one arm firm in a powerful grip. Alan held the other, snarling, "One false move and I'll break it right off!" Ellie knelt down and opened his pants, and Carl produced an Instamatic camera.
Struggle as he might, there was no way to escape from them. And no way to escape from Ellie's velvet touch and silken lips. "What a nice one," she said, as his penis inexorably grew under her amorous attentions, and by the time she had his pants clear down his penis was up as hard as it could be. It didn't even go soft when Carl started taking pictures!
Henry felt dizzy, ill, mortified. Mrs. Dawkins made it all the worse by commiserating with him while the girl did her awful thing. The sensations of her mouth and hand on his genitals were wholly inescapable, and he wanted to sob in his frustration. But he had no one to turn to, no one to lean on except Mrs. Dawkins as he saw his career disappear further with every snap of the shutter.
"There, there. Don't screw up your face like that," Mrs. Dawkins said. "You're a handsome man, Mr. Burnside, especially when you smile and be happy. Let's see a little smile now. Come on. No? What does it take to turn up the corners of your mouth? Kisses? Do you like kisses?" she said, and then there were two female mouths attending to him in a grossly unfair way, and he couldn't help but respond to them.
He left an hour later, a defeated man, with Carl slapping him on the back and saying, "Come back when you can spend more time with us. Come back when you can have some dinner with us and then sit around and go through the family album. Hey, do you want us to send you some prints? Haw, haw, haw!" Yes, Henry Burnside was a defeated man when he left to call it quits for the day and go home.
The camera saved them that time, but it was the pictures that did them in.
It happened on a day a few weeks later. Dotty and Alan were out catching up on their locksmith work and Carl and Ellie were on the bed together, done with their chores and looking forward to some uninterrupted fun for just the two of them. They were naked and Carl had laid out the vibrator and the growing picture album as incentives toward an afternoon of thorough and leisurely fucking and sucking. They'd just started through the album when the phone rang. Carl answered it.
When he answered it he said, "God damn it all to hell! Some kid's got himself locked up in a commercial meat locker, and I gotta go get him out. Why do they pick times like this to do things like that? Sorry, but I've got to go, Ellie. When duty calls, the licensed locksmith answers. And it's good for a fast fifty bucks. Stay here, keep it hot for me, and I'll be back as quick as I can."
Ellie stayed and browsed through the pictures, rather pleased she had an opportunity for some quiet time by herself. The vibrator was there to play with and the pictures there to reminisce over and she settled down to spend a lazy afternoon by herself. The big silver Cadillac was so quiet when it pulled into the driveway that she didn't even hear it, for she was dozing off by then anyway.
A man and a woman got out of the car and started toward the house. His name was Ray and she called herself Claudine. They were both dressed very nicely, both extraordinarily good-looking, both smiling and self-possessed.
There was not a sign of life at the house and no one answered Claudine's knock at the door. She entered as if she'd been there before, smiling about her at seemingly familiar objects, with Ray protectively at her side. She called out the Dawkins' given names, with no reply, turned to her companion and said, "Come upstairs, dear. I'll show you the family mansion."
He chuckled and went with her. But he stopped chuckling when he opened a door on the second floor. His eyebrows lifted and he said, "What have we here, dear?"
"She's stunning," said Claudine, quietly observing the well turned back of the girl sleeping naked on the bed. She entered softly, lifted her eyebrows at the pictures in the open album, and said, "And what have we here?"
Together they went through them, exchanging looks but not words. The girl on the bed, the same as the one in the pictures, slept on.
"She's talented," Ray murmured, when the album was closed.
"And beautiful," said Claudine, and she laid a hand on the girl's soft shoulder.
Ellie came awake yawning, then scrambled toward the headboard, badly startled by the presence of these two strangers. They did not approach her, and this more than anything else got her started toward calming down. She saw at once they were both what her mother used to refer to as Beautiful People, and this helped calm Ellie down too. He was lean, handsome, mustachioed, about thirty years of age. She was a little older but no less handsome, beautifully attired, and ever warm and smiling.
"I'm Mary Dawkins, Carl's sister," she explained. "But my friends all call me Claudine. And this is my husband Ray. He's my business manager too. And who might you be, dear?"
Ellie introduced herself in faltering tones, bedspread clasped to her bosom, while the two unexpected visitors calmly listened. She said she was happy there at the Dawkins' house as a foster child and that she'd been accepted more warmly than if she'd been their real daughter. Ray and Claudine were so very nice that she could have relaxed completely with them if it hadn't been for the album of sexy pictures lying right there, fortunately closed now.
But Claudine opened it, and Ellie pulled the covers over her head in her shameful embarrassment. Claudine and Ray gently pulled the covers down, and Claudine said, "Don't be embarrassed, Ellie dear. We take pictures like this ourselves, and we and our customers all enjoy them."
"Your . . . your customers?" said Ellie.
"Yes," said Ray. "We work in Las Vegas. We're in the men's entertainment business. I manage Claudine and some other ladies and we provide recreation for visiting tourists."
"Men and women," Claudine added. "And we make very good money at it. Enough to buy ourselves nice clothes and cars and still put money away in a savings account. You'd like it there. It's so much nicer than living in this old house."
"I've heard of Las Vegas," said Ellie. "It's a real fun place. But they've been awfully sweet to me here."
"It wouldn't be difficult to be sweet to you," said Ray, and he kissed her hand, just like a prince would!
"Indeed not," said Claudine, and her bejeweled hand stealing up Ellie's leg was every bit as stirring as Ray's kiss.
"Come with us," they said, and told her all the reasons why, in detail, and Ellie listened with growing interest. Her interest grew with the growing bulge in Ray's snugly fitting trousers and with the warm caresses of Claudine's hands and smiles.
"There really isn't anything to keep me here," she said at last, all fidgety and restless and feeling ever so good. "At least I could go for a visit. If Carl and Dotty say it's okay."
"Oh, they won't mind," said Claudine. "After all, I am Carl's sister. We'll go right now, and we'll leave them a note."
"And we'll take this album along," said Ray, and tucked it under his arm, and together with his wife, helped Ellie out of bed.
She knew she should say goodbye to the family that had been so nice to her, but a seething desire to be off and seeing the world was upon her and she just had to go now, before she could change her mind.
Claudine wrapped her light summer coat around Ellie's shoulders, saying, "There's nothing of your clothes worth taking. We'll outfit you along the way."
"Oh, I must take these!" said Ellie, and picked up her nearly worn out work gloves, the only new piece of apparel Carl had had time to get her since her arrival.
Claudine smiled and took them from her hand. "You won't be needing these in the work you'll be doing with us. Velvet, perhaps, but not canvas gloves."
Ellie went down the stairs with them. She couldn't think of what to say to the Dawkins in a note, so Claudine wrote one: We're taking Ellie and your Family Album on vacation. Love, Mary.
Out into the sunshine they went, and to the glittering new Cadillac. There was a discussion there as to who would drive and which of them would sit in the back seat and play with Ellie. Ellie settled it by saying, "Both of you sit in the front seat, and we'll all play together when we get to the very first motel. I've never been to a motel! But now, let's go! On to Las Vegas!! ! "