Marge Morgan trudged wearily from the front office of the Spear Construction Company and turned down Front Street to begin the four block walk to her car. Miami screamed around her in the throes of its rush-hour convulsions, spewing people and cars and dirt and noise out of its belly in frenzied, hysterical haste. The sky was low with the smog that had settled in from the bay, and a half-ridden sun broiled the sweating city mercilessly. It was hot, noisy, cramped and stinking. It was Progress.
"Hey, get the hell out of the way!"
Marge Morgan jerked her head up and stepped quickly back up onto the curb. An irate cab driver squealed around her, blasting his horn at the same time and staring at her as though she'd insulted him personally by having delayed him the two and a half seconds she'd been standing in the gutter. Marge glared back at him, angered by his anger, feeling the tension of the day suddenly wash over her. Then she was pushed off the curb by the mass of humanity pressed up behind her as the traffic light turned green, and the mindless herd began to swarm across the intersection. She stumbled, caught herself, and hurried ahead to keep up with the flow. She finally reached the parking lot that held her car and waited while the attendant tried courageously to find her small Ford Falcon in the endless sea of parked automobiles. She slumped down onto a bench and tried to close her mind to the maddening frenzy that possesses a city between 4:30 and 6:00.
Marge was 36 years old and had lived in Miami for the last two years. But she could never adjust herself to the city's rush, the tension, the nerve-wracking tempo that others seemed to take for granted. She was a beautiful woman with dark brown hair which lay in soft curls on her shoulders and an almost naive face which was betrayed only by a pair of intense, almost smoldering eyes. She affected a somewhat cool manner and often gave others the impression of aloofness and perhaps even conceit, but this was only a defense, a rein that held her frustrations in check. It was only in her eyes that one could perceive the fire that burned inside her, could even guess at the wild animal that lay imperfectly concealed behind that cool exterior. It was this combination of aloofness and yet the hint of some insatiable desire that served to make her irresistibly magnetic to men, who flocked to her like flies to honey. And the more they flocked, the more aloof she became, her defenses barely able to hold in check the intensity of her inner passions.
Marge's car finally came sputtering out of the parking lot, adding more than its share to the poison in the air around her. She quickly paid the attendant and slid her slender body behind the wheel. She eased out of the parking lot's driveway and began to make her slow, agonizing way out of the city. This was the part of the day she hated most. Even the morning rush hour was not this bad because then she was fresh, still untouched by the day's trails and tribulations. But now, after a day's frustrating monotony....
Marge blasted her horn at a Lincoln Continental which was trying to force its way into her line of traffic. She eased the accelerator toward the floor, cutting him off and forcing him to brake with a jerk. He glared at her, she glared at him, and the traffic slowed around them like a river flowing around some unseen obstruction. Then Marge scooted ahead of the Lincoln, victor in this round of her fight to escape the city, and made her way toward the Turnpike southbound.
She lived in a tiny two bedroom apartment which had no advantages except that it was relatively inexpensive. But that was enough. Her job as secretary for the Spear Construction Company certainly didn't pay very well, and to think of moving into something closer to her work and therefore more expensive, was out of the question. Marge tolerated her work but didn't enjoy it. Still, it was something, and the best she could find with her work record. She had moved all around the country in the last eighteen years, seldom staying in one place more than a few years, usually staying far less. The cities she had lived in were so numerous that she often lost track of them, and her past was filled with certain periods of time she couldn't even account for. But she didn't think about that often; to her, one city was like another, one job was like another, and except for periodic changes in setting, her life followed the same pattern with frustrating sameness.
It hadn't always been that way. In high school Marge had been quite a participant in the school's social scene. She had been a cheerleader, class vice-president, homecoming queen, all of the things that typify a young girl's high school success story. Boys had swarmed around her, inviting her out, walking her to classes, begging for some of the attention she gave to those she liked. But that had all changed abruptly, her senior year ... had changed with a finality that still drove her from place to place in an unending attempt to escape its irrevocable consequences.
The lovely secretary tried to force her mind onto some other subject, but it returned every time to the pain of that last year in school. She hadn't really even known Bruce well. She had only accepted his offer of a date in order to attend a last minute beach party with some friends, and had not even found him that attractive. Bruce had been very attentive, and Marge had had much too much wine to drink, and before she knew it, she was wrestling with him on the beach, separated from the others, at first resisting and then, aroused beyond endurance by his sexual foreplay, finally accepting his body with an abandon that took Bruce completely by surprise.
Marge passed a trembling hand across her soft brown eyes and tried to focus on the traffic. But the cars ahead of her slowed until they came to a complete stop, and while she waited for the metal river to start flowing again, she tried to remember what it had been like that first time.
She remembered a great deal of pain, her shame once it was all over, and her agonized waiting until her period came, but little more. And when her period hadn't come, she'd waited longer, praying that it was just delayed, her fears of pregnancy immobilizing her completely until finally she was simply spending the entire day in bed at home. Finally, her mother had forced her to go to the doctor, thinking she might be seriously ill but having no idea of the nature of her illness. The doctor easily drew the truth from her, and when his tests were completed, her terrible fears were proven true.
Marge felt a shiver run through her curvaceous body, still able to feel the effect that awful news had had upon her so many years ago. The doctor had told her mother immediately, and her mother, despite Marge's protestation, had insisted that the boy marry her. Marge hadn't wanted that simply because she hadn't known Bruce very well, but Mrs. Morgan had insisted, and there followed a traumatic four months while Bruce and his family were convinced, arrangements were made, and Marge herself grew steadily larger with the life inside her. They were married in her fourth month, and it seemed for a while that things would be all right. But then, even before the baby was born, they began to quarrel, she perhaps made more edgy by her pregnancy, and he unable to give her the patience and understanding she desired. They had even come to blows on one occasion, Bruce knocking her down at the height of one of their arguments. But then he had apologized profusely as he always did and promised that it would never happen again. But, of course, it did with increasing frequency.
And then the baby had been born, and it had seemed again that they might be able to function as a unity and live together, this time through the mediating influence of their daughter. But it was soon apparent that even little Laura could not act as a bridge to cross that chasm which lay between the two of them. For eight tempestuous months after her birth, they had made life miserable for one another until finally Marge had discovered that Bruce was having an affair with a woman in the same apartment building, and she'd decided to leave him. It hadn't surprised her that he was having an affair because she hadn't slept with him for months, and yet that affair gave her the excuse she needed to rationalize in her own conscience the step she was taking.
The divorce proceedings had been short and unprotested. Bruce had been just as willing as Marge to break off their obvious mismatch. She had been awarded a small alimony, but most important of all for her, she had been awarded custody of her child, Laura.
The insistent blaring of a horn gradually broke through the curtain of Marge's memories, and she looked up to see that traffic had again begun to move on the turnpike. She quickly moved ahead and gradually picked up speed until she was going a relatively brisk 45 miles per hour. Her mind was somewhat at ease now, pacified by the turn her thoughts had taken in the direction of her daughter.
Marge smiled again. Laura had been such a beautiful baby, had hardly ever cried, had walked before she was eighteen months, and was talking by the time she was two and a half years old. She was Marge's one joy in life and had become gradually over the years her only real reason for living. After the trauma of her marriage, Laura had formed the cornerstone of her sanity, and for a year after her divorce the two of them had constituted a self-sufficient entity, with little or no contact with the outside world. Without that time with her child alone to recuperate from the wounds which her marriage had left upon her, Marge might very well have broken down completely.
But while Laura had been able to salve those wounds with the simple fact of her presence, she had not been able to heal the scars they left on Marge's personality and on her sexual being in particular. Anything that remotely reminded the young mother of the traumatic experience she had been through with her immature husband was avoided, shoved into the far recesses of her mind to lie hidden behind an almost enurotic wall of repression. She had been hurt irreparably, and she had subconsciously placed the blame for all her troubles on the sexual side of her nature. She feared any kind of intimate involvement and rejected coolly all advances made by the scores of men drawn irresistibly to her with the result that, as the years passed, her sexual frustration increased. And as it increased, her fear of her own sexuality increased as well, and she expended more and more energy to keep that sexuality hidden, disarmed, incapable of leading her into relationships that might prove painful or destructive.
And so she moved from place to place, thinking she was avoiding entanglements that would divert her attention from her young daughter, but in reality simply trying to escape the undeniable pressures exerted on her by her own seething sensuality. She had begun by moving around the east coast from Delaware to South Carolina, and then her fears had driven her west. Each time she would move into a city, find a dull and usually poorly paying job and try to settle with Laura into some kind of routine that resembled stability. She knew, instinctively, that her daughter needed that stability and that she herself needed it as well. She would slowly make a few friends and begin to come out of her shell slightly, and then she would find herself being drawn to one of the many men who pursued her with stubborn persistence.
At first those men would seem content with a purely platonic relationship, and Marge would perceptibly bloom on the release of having someone to talk to, someone with whom she could break through the icy walls of her self-imposed aloofness. But then, inevitably, she would find that those men began to make demands on her, sexual demands, demands that showed either an unwillingness or an inability to understand her reluctance to become intimately involved. And then would come the inevitable conversations that stretched painfully into the middle of the night and then the arguments and then the final break. Sometimes the break was clean, and Marge would be able to stay where she was, though more confused and frustrated than before. But at other times the men in her life would not give up. They would be able to sense the restrained desire, the hidden but burning sexuality that twisted the young woman with its force and would try to help her bring it out into the open, to deal with it, to come to terms with herself. And it was then that Marge fled, terrified, not only from their offers of help, but from herself as well.
The tired young woman left the turnpike and began to make her way up the small streets to her apartment. The houses all passed by her with a hypnotic sameness, colored in nauseous shades of dirty pastels, squeezed together as though trying to impress the curious observer of their solidarity with one another. But there were no curious observers, and their solidarity had long since atrophied into mere congestion.
Turning into her parking space, the beautiful secretary cut the motor and wearily eased her voluptuous body from behind the steering wheel. She didn't bother to lock the car but made her way toward the common entrance she shared with the eight other apartments in her building, all cramped cubicles exactly like her own. She stopped by her mailbox hopefully, but it offered her nothing more than an old circular she'd never bothered to remove. She sighed and turned to the stairs leading to her apartment.
"Well, Mrs. Morgan, nothing again today?"
Marge stopped but didn't turn around. If there was one thing she didn't want to do now it was talk to Mrs. Crocker, perhaps the most unpleasant neighbor she had ever been unfortunate enough to have.
"No, Mrs. Crocker, nothing again today."
Without turning to confront the prunish old lady, Marge again started for the stairs. She didn't reach them, however, nor did she really expect to.
"Well, that's a shame," came the irritating voice from behind her, "but you know it's just what I was saying to you the other day, Mrs. Morgan, about young people today. They just don't seem to have any consideration, any common courtesy even. Why, I remember when I was young, I used to write my family at least twice a week! Sometimes three times! If I were you, Mrs. Morgan, I'd give that child of yours a talking to. Now, I don't want to butt in, of course...."
Then don't, you decrepit old bitch. Marge thought to herself impatiently, wanting only to get upstairs and pour a relaxing drink for herself...." but it seems to me that that daughter of yours has no respect for her elders. That's what it is. And those friends of hers, those hippie people, why I don't believe they've taken a bath in months, Mrs. Morgan and that's a fact! And now she'd gone to live up there on that hippie commune! Well, deary, I know you must be sick with worry, and without any letters from her at all ... "
Marge turned to the babbling old woman abruptly and glared down on her.
"Mrs. Crocker, I am not sick with worry, I do get letters from my daughter, and I'll thank you to keep your...."
"Yes, Mrs. Morgan, but how many letters?" the old hen cackled, "two in the last three months! Why when I was young, I used to write my family at least twice a week! Sometimes three times!"
"Mrs. Crocker," Marge said harshly, her patience at an end. "I'm sure you did. In fact, I'm constantly amazed that you can find anything more to talk about."
Marge turned on her heel and walked quickly up the stairs, leaving the old woman open-mouthed in the hallway below. She unlocked the door to her apartment and went inside, closing it behind her. Goddamned old gossip, she thought to herself and moved to her small, meagerly supplied bar. She poured herself a drink and took a long swallow, letting it wash the tension out of her with its soothing warmth.
She turned to the small air conditioner that made life just bearable during the summer, switched it on and moved across the room to the hallway leading to the kitchen. She walked slowly along the hall, stopped in front of the second door, opened it quietly, and stood leaning against the door jamb, looking into the room sadly.
But Mrs. Crocker is right, Marge admitted to herself, I am sick with worry. If Laura would only write and tell me what's happening....
The upset young mother stood looking into her daughter's room for a few moments at the high school pennants and the stuffed animals spread across the brightly colored bedspread and then closed the door softly. She made her way through the hall to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out some ice to cool her drink. Then she sat slowly at the kitchen table, lowered her face into her hands and began, very quietly, to cry.
It had all started with her latest move to Florida two years before. Laura had been in her last year of high school and had begun to show signs of restlessness, of dissatisfaction, not with her mother, but with things in general. She had begun running with a strange crowd, long-haired, strangely clothed and rebellious. Marge had been careful not to criticize, knowing that her opposition would only serve to make her daughter more committed to the group of people she had chosen as friends. Throughout that year, Laura's relationship with her mother had remained the same understanding warm bond that it had always been, and there had been no ruptures in their deep-seated love for one another.
And yet, not long after Laura had begun to run with this crowd, she started talking about leaving home and making her own way in the world. Again, Marge had talked this over with her rationally and unemotionally, even though the very thought of life without Laura caused her unbearable pain. And then one day, it had happened. Laura had told her mother that some of her friends had decided to join a commune in Ft. Lauderdale and that she had decided to go with them. Marge tried desperately to dissuade her, arguing that she hadn't yet finished school, that she wasn't ready to take this great step yet, that she knew nothing about the commune or the people in it. But Laura would not be dissuaded, and Marge knew that it was useless to try to forbid her strong-willed young daughter. Again the mother decided to preserve at all costs the warm, loving relationship that existed between the two of them, and after warning Laura of the dangers and making sure her daughter knew that her bedroom would always be waiting for her if she should want to come back, Marge gave her unwilling consent to Laura's plan.
The air conditioner was just beginning to make its presence felt in the small apartment. Marge raised her head from the cradle of her hands, stretching her long slim legs sensously under the table and spreading her firmly rounded thighs slightly apart, letting the air circulate some of the heat and dampness from between them. She stared fixedly at the wall opposite her, completely absorbed in her thoughts of her daughter. A slight frown creased her beautiful face as she remembered the one time Laura had come home on a visit from the commune. She had brought a whole group of friends with her, both boys and girls, and they had all slept on the floor in the same room in sleeping bags and blankets.
There had been almost 10 of them, all long-haired, freaky looking types with a vacant and yet somehow preoccupied look about them. Laura had been wonderful, but Marge felt her attention often pre-empted by her friends, and so they had not really had much of a chance to talk. Marge sensed that her daughter was not completely happy with the choice she had made, that there was something in the back of her mind that allowed just a trace of doubt to gnaw quietly but persistently at her. But there had not been time during that short visit for the two of them to sit down and evaluate Laura's experiences, and before Marge could decide just what the source of Laura's doubt was, she had gone away again, back to Ft. Lauderdale and the commune in the company of her motley and disheveled crew of friends.
Marge raised her body wearily from the table and walked to the small living room, passing by her absent daughter's room this time without stopping. She walked over to the small sofa and lay down, closing her eyes with a sigh, trying to rid her mind of the anxiety that was beginning to close in on it with undeniable persistency. Her voluptuously formed body lay tensed on the sofa, her head propped up on an old and faded cushion. It had been almost five months since Laura's visit, and since that time Marge's home life had been a torture. She was beginning to drink too much and spent her evenings wandering from one place in the house to another, absently, as though she were searching for something without any idea of what it might be. Perhaps she had devoted herself too much to her beautiful child, perhaps her life had revolved around Laura's too completely, but she knew it was useless to speculate about that kind of thing. The face was that she did feel lost without her daughter, was drifting rudderless through the maddening calm of her everyday human life.
The late afternoon sun forced its way through the dirty panes of her apartment windows, warming the sofa where she lay with lazy hot insistence. Marge must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes the apartment had grown dim with evening's half-light, and the clock on her mantle said seven-thirty. Automatically, she got up to fix herself some dinner and then stopped herself. She wasn't hungry. She sat again on the sofa and let her drowsiness seep out of her slowly, leaving her somewhat rested and momentarily calmer.
I dreamed something, she asked herself, what was it? She let her mind ease back to a few moments before, and then a slight smile flitted briefly across her beautifully sculpted face. Of course ... Laura. I dreamed I want to visit her, and I held her quietly in my arms on a grassy hillside, and the sun was very hot on our faces, and there was nobody in the world but the two of us....
Marge leaned back against the sofa, a look of concern on her face. She tried to imagine what Laura's reaction would be if she were to show up unannounced in Ft. Lauderdale at the commune. She thought Laura would be happy to see her, but she didn't know for sure. Abruptly the young woman stood up once again and wandered across to the window nervously. It was Friday, and she had nothing but another empty weekend to look forward to, forty-eight hours to spend in idleness with no housekeeping, no social life and no family to keep busy with. She looked out on the rows and rows of dirty pastel houses, stretching down the hill toward the bay and pictured happy families, mothers and daughters, looking forward to their two day vacation with anticipation and excitement. She stared out the window, her firm, high-set breasts beginning to heave with frustration, then quickly pulled the curtains and started anxiously toward the kitchen, trying to rid herself of the pain that was beginning to invade her tantalizing body. She stopped unwillingly in the hallway again, opposite Laura's bedroom door and stood staring at it, through it, but not opening it. And then, suddenly her mind eased and the pain flowed out of her chest and her anxiety-ridden body stopped its quivering. It was as though an enormous burden had been inexplicably lifted from her shoulders, as though an important decision had just been made for her.
Why not? What was she afraid of? She would go to Ft. Lauderdale! She would talk to Laura and try to discover if she was really happy. She did not admit it to herself, but she knew she ' would try to convince Laura to come back to Miami with her, to take up their life again just as it had been before. And even if she didn't come, what better way was there to spend a weekend but with her lovely young daughter, just the two of them?
A great smile radiated across the voluptuous secretary's beautiful face, turning what had been anxiety into excitement. She would go first thing in the morning; it would only take a few hours to drive to Ft. Lauderdale, and then she would see her precious child again. She turned happily towards the kitchen, suddenly hungry now, and then stopped.
To hell with dinner, she thought to herself enthusiastically, I've got to figure out what to wear! She rushed into her bedroom, alive and happy for the first time in many, many months, and almost danced over to her closet. Her mind was already soaring far beyond Miami, far beyond the small confines of her too-small apartment. She was already in Ft. Lauderdale in the hot, hot sun, lying on a grassy hillside and holding her innocent young daughter in the gentle embrace of her loving arms. Her daughter? Her life!!
CHAPTER TWO
"Larry, you just don't understand," Laura Morgan was saying, "Your home life was so screwed up, you just can't see what I'm talking about. I love my mother ... we've got a really beautiful thing between us, you know?"
Laura lay on her back, her eyes searching the cloudless Florida sky, her bare toes playing little games with the golden brown grass that covered the hills of Ft. Lauderdale.
"I mean, my mother doesn't have all the hang-ups about her kid that your parents have. She treats me like an adult, so there isn't any need for me to rebel against her. I mean I didn't run away from her like you did from your parents. There wasn't any need to."
"Look, kiddo, I didn't run away from my parents. I just left, see? And anyway, I think you're just kidding yourself, because your mother just isn't as understanding as she pretends."
"Larry, that's not true...."
"Yes it is true, baby, I know it's true ... ,When we were all down at your mother's place, she was hanging all over you, man, like you were some kind of teddy bear or something...."
"Come on, Larry, that's not fair! Just because you can't visualize any kind of love between parents or children doesn't mean it doesn't exist, right? I mean...."
"All right! Let's just forget about it, okay? It's Saturday afternoon, and the sun is shining ... let's talk about something else for Christ's sake! The whole thing is so fucking sentimental I think I'm going to cry."
Laura looked over at him as he turned away on his side, and then she sat up abruptly, and looked away. Her long blonde hair was tangled with strands of grass, and her eyes were moist with a few tentative tears caused by the lack of understanding on her boyfriend's part. Her face was almost an exact replica of her mother's, with the same soft brown eyes and delicately formed features, but lacking the coolness, the distance her mother had cultivated after so many years of frustration. Laura was young, but already had a figure that surpassed even her mother's, with large rounded breasts and gently flaring hips, and soft smooth thighs that were tanned a delicious golden brown by the hot Florida sun. Her slender arms reached out around her shapely legs, and clasped together tightly around her knees, which were trembling slightly now with emotion. She glanced over at Larry, and tried to decide why he was sometimes so harsh with her. She knew he had had a rough life, but still ... sometimes it was as though he didn't have any feeling for her at all.
She quickly turned her thoughts away from this unpleasant thought, deciding that it was absurd to even suspect that Larry didn't love her. After all, wasn't he one of the main reasons she had come to the commune in the first place? She looked away, across the lush green hills covered sparsely by single standing oaks in irregular patterns, and her mind wandered aimlessly through visions of her past, her school, old friends, her mother....
"Look, kiddo, I'm sorry."
Laura's memories were invaded by Larry's deep masculine voice. She didn't turn to him immediately.
"Oh, that's all right, Larry. I guess I get carried away sometimes when I think about Mom. It's my fault really."
"No, I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's my fault. But, like I don't understand one thing, kiddo."
She turned to him questioningly...." I mean, if everything was so fine back in Miami, why did you come up here? Christ, you could have stayed there in your Momma's lovin' arms!"
Laura looked at him in surprise, but saw that he was serious. She'd come for him, of course!
"Oh, I don't know. I guess I just had to settle down in a place of my own, you know? I mean, ever since I remember, Mom and I have been either moving in or moving out of crummy little two bedroom apartments. I can't even remember how many. And, I never went to the same school more than a year and a half ... Oh, I don't mean it was all that bad! All I'm saying is ... well ... I just had to find something a little more stable, you know?"
Larry leaned over to her, and drew her supple young body over to him roughly, pressing her up against him.
"Yeah, I know, kiddo ... something stable like me, huh?"
Laura winced a little from the unexpected roughness, and then eased herself into the curve of his huge, muscular frame. She snuggled up like an infant against his massive chest, and worked her face up against the rough stubble of his week-old beard, sighing with pleasure. She felt the crotch of his jeans begin to bulge as his hidden cock quickly grew excited by her tantalizing closeness, and laughingly reached down to touch its fabric-covered hugeness with her small tanned hand.
"Mmmm ... well, I guess you're pretty stable, all right...."
With a throaty growl, Larry threw her over onto her back, and pressed her breasts back against her small frame with his powerful body. He reached under her skimpy body shirt and ran one hand teasingly up over one soft unencumbered nipple, raising it to an instant hardness.
"Want to see just how stable, kiddo?" he asked laughingly.
Laura moaned with the pleasure elicited by. his expert manipulations of her breasts, and answered only by reaching down seductively to slowly unbutton the top button of his straining blue jeans.
* * *
Marge Morgan eased her Ford Falcon to the side of the small one-lane road, and pulled out the map the man at the local post-office had given her. Ferris Road. This must be it, she thought, looking up for confirmation at the billboard on her right. Past the Quaker State sign and turn right. She set the map down on the seat beside her, and eased the car into gear.
She hadn't started as early that morning as she'd wanted. As soon as she'd woke up, she'd thought of a million things she could spend that Saturday doing, errands she'd put off for months, letters she'd never planned to write ... but then her mind had stopped rushing around desperately trying to think up excuses for not coming, and she'd realized she was just being silly.
She was still nervous, though, even after her long drive-nervous about how Laura would receive her surprise visit, uncertain whether she might be intruding. She was almost convinced that Laura would be overjoyed to see her, but not quite. She hoped that the single fact of her presence would not put any kind of pressure on her daughter, making her feel as though she had to choose between her mother and the commune. The reason Marge felt this way, of course, was that unconsciously she hoped Laura would make that choice, and would return to Miami with her.
She drove back onto the road, and turned right onto Ferris Road. She drove up a long hill with the sun at her back, and continued on until the paved road turned into gravel, and the gravel finally gave way to a rutted, sun-baked dirt road that threatened to wrench her old car's shock absorbers from the chassis. Bravely, she went on, and finally came to an old broken down fence stretched haphazardly across the road with a carefully painted sign hung beside it, the words "The Zodiac" emblazoned on the sign in red letters.
Well, this is it, she thought to herself nervously, and looked with apprehension at the dry hillsides around her, broken only by the line of rusted barbed wire that stretched out from the gate until it disappeared behind the curve of the hill. The isolation and apparent desolation of the place disturbed her, and she wondered how Laura could enjoy being so cut off from civilization. She got out of the car, and opened the old gate, which creaked in the hot stillness of the afternoon, eerily, like an invitation to enter another world. Getting back in her car, she drove through, stopped, got out once again, and closed the gate behind her. You're here, the gate creaked at her once again, and she hurriedly got back into her car and drove on.
After a mile or so, she came suddenly into a clearing, surrounded by home-made wooden cabins peeking out into it from under the protection of a grove of huge oak trees. The houses were all fairly small, except for one building that stood out from the others and had a long front porch built out from it, covered by a shingled roof. There didn't seem to be many people about, though Marge did see a couple of naked children playing around one of the houses in a carefree game of kick-the-can, and two women dressed in calico sitting in the shade of a large tree, mending what looked like hand-made shirts. She drove up to the main building, which she took to be some kind of meeting hall, and stopped her car in front.
As she slid her slender body from behind the wheel, she saw a man walk out on the porch in front of her, and gaze down at her with curiosity. His eyes peered out from behind a massive, tangled growth of beard and hair that practically hid his face from view. His hands rested lazily in the pockets of his faded, patched coveralls.
"Good afternoon," Marge ventured timorously. "My name is Marge Morgan."
Marge could feel the bearded man's eyes taking her in, and suddenly she felt very out of place in this almost nineteenth century community, dressed as she was in her modern, brightly colored, light summer dress. She waited for the man to give some response to her introduction, but he simply continued staring at her impassively.
"My daughter lives here in this ... place," Marge continued bravely. "Her name is Laura Morgan."
The silent man descended the stairs slowly, and walked over to where Marge was standing. Her nervousness grew as he approached her, but then he stuck out his hand and smiled.
"Of course ... Laura. I'm afraid we don't know very many last names around here. How do you do?"
Marge shook his hand gratefully, suddenly put completely at ease by the graciousness and ease of his manner.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr....?"
The man smiled again, quietly, and put his hands back into his pockets...." Spencer." he said simply.
"Well, I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Spencer."
Marge was surprised to hear him laugh out loud, and then questioned him with a smile.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh," the man beamed at her, "but I'm afraid I'm not a mister. My name is just Spencer. And while you're here in the Village, I hope you don't mind if we call you Marge."
Marge returned his laugh, comfortable somehow with this seemingly gentle man.
"Oh, I'm sorry ... Spencer then. And I'd love you to call me Marge."
"Well, that's fine. Good. Now I suppose you're looking for Laura?"
"Yes, I am," Marge answered, "Can you tell me where I might find her?"
"The last I saw her she was walking up toward the Chapel."
"The Chapel?" Marge echoed.
"Oh, sorry, that's what we call the hillside where we sometimes meditate and have group ... gatherings," Spencer said with a sly smile. "For us, it's a kind of church, so...."
"I think that's lovely," Marge laughed, "that Chapel! That's wonderful! Could you tell me how to get there? You see, I'm very anxious to see my daughter."
"Well, she's with Larry right now...."
"Oh, is that a friend of hers?" Marge asked hesitantly.
The man looked at her with a strange expression playing about his eyes.
"We're all friends here, Marge. You'll soon find that out."
"Of course, I forgot," she laughed. "After all, isn't that what a commune's for?"
"You're very right, Marge, that is exactly what a commune is for." The same strange smile formed on his lips, making Marge vaguely uneasy somehow, but she quickly dismissed it.
They chatted for a few moments more, and then Marge asked again how she could get to the Chapel. Spencer indicated a path rising steeply away from the Village, as he had told her the area where they were now standing was called, and said that it came out right above the Chapel. Marge thanked him and turned to make her way across the clearing.
"Oh Marge?" he called after her.
"Yes?" she answered, turning back toward him.
"You're welcome to stay and share our dinner with us."
"That would be lovely," she called to him. "In fact, I was hoping to stay the whole weekend. Would that be all right?"
"That would be fine! We'd love to have you. And you'll enjoy it."
"You know," she said smiling, "I think I will, Spencer."
He watched as she waved happily to him, and turned to climb the steep path. His eyes devoured her perfectly formed hips as they swung sensuously, enticingly from side to side.
"I know you will, Marge," he whispered under his breath, an almost leering grin twisting his face under his huge beard, "I know you will!"
* * *
It was a hard climb up the narrow, rock-filled path, and Marge had to stop two or three times to catch her breath. Whew, I'm really out of shape! she panted to herself silently, standing about fifty feet below the crest of the hill. Well, one last pull ... and she started again, slowly, forcing one foot in front of the other.
She had been pleasantly surprised at the reception Spencer had given her back at the meeting house. She could admit to herself now just how frightened she had been to come to the commune, frightened of people who seemed so very much different from herself. But Spencer, despite his long hair and strange ways, had seemed genuinely friendly, and Marge had been pleased. She had also been impressed with the cleanliness and order of the commune. There was nothing in it that was new, of course, and all the buildings seemed to be hanging together only with chewing gum and rubber bands, but despite its very make-do character, it was clean. Most of the houses sported a fairly new coat of dark green or brown paint, the yards around them were raked clean, and Marge could see absolutely no litter or trash cluttering the place up at all. She didn't really know what she'd expected, perhaps a rural slum of tarpaper shacks with garbage and junked cars providing occasional touches of impoverished color, but the rustic beauty of "The Zodiac", as the cummune was called, quickly dissolved all her preconceptions.
And now, walking breathlessly toward the crest of the hill, the pretty secretary breathed in the smogless air, smelled the healthy scent of dusty oak trees and sun-toasted grass, and decided that Laura might just be right. If one could choose between the exhilaration of a summertime hillside under a cloudless sky, and the stench and filth of a modern city, who in his right mind would be anywhere but where she was right at this very moment, panting uncontrollably as she forced her lungs to accept more oxygen than they'd had in years.
At last, Marge reached the top, and paused again to catch her breath. She looked back over the climb she'd just made, and could just make out through the trees the tops of a few of the buildings down in the Village. Then she turned, and began to make her way through the small line of trees that separated her from the meadow on the other side of the hill. Her eyes sparkled with the exertions of her climb, and her unaccustomed ears happily caught the sound of birds talking to her from their hidden perches in the oaks around her, the wind rustling softly through the branches, the healthy sound of her own heavy breathing.
She suddenly stopped, hearing another sound she couldn't identify. It was off to her left, and sounded like small animals digging hastily into the ground. Silently, like some kind of novice big-game hunter, she moved to her left, crouched over, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. She was soon surprised to hear what sounded like muffled voices as well, coming from somewhere at the edge of the line of trees, just at the top of the meadow. She crept closer, and the sounds became more distinct. They were voices, she decided, and involved in a fairly intense discussion it seemed. If she just got a little closer she could perhaps just ... Marge's hand suddenly flew to her mouth, and she stifled a horrified shriek which threatened to burst from her constricting throat. Her eyes grew wide with disbelieving shock and revulsion, and she groped frantically for the tree beside her to keep from falling.
For the words she had just heard distinctly were the unmistakable passionate tones of her own daughter, Laura, crying out madly:
"Yes, Larry! Oohhhhh, yes! Yes, you've got such a beautiful hard cock! I love it inside, love it filling my cunt! Ohhhh! Fuck me, Larry, fuck me like this forever! Ohhhhhhh!"
Marge steadied herself desperately against the massive trunk of the towering oak tree, and slowly lowered her trembling hand from her mouth. This can't be true, she thought to herself wildly, I must have made a mistake.' That's not ... it can't be! Unwillingly, she was drawn toward the lewd sounds, unable to break away. She came up over a little rise of ground, and hid herself behind a tree. She could hear the scuffling again, the sounds she had thought were small animals, but the voices had stopped. She looked with trepidation down toward the meadow and....
Marge gasped almost audibly as her eyes located the source of the voices. She stared with horrible fascination to where, not fifty feet from where she stood, two people lay wrapped in an obscenely intimate embrace, completely unaware of her presence. Her body tensed completely as she saw that they were both naked, and that the girl, who lay partially hidden by the man's huge body, had long flowing blonde hair, just like her daughter's. No, she tried uselessly to convince herself, tears of shame and disgust beginning to flow unhindered into her eyes, It can't be Laura!
But it was Laura, her face contorted in the twisted throes of a building passion, her long, slender legs wrapped around the powerful body above her, undulating slowly under his teasing thrusts. Marge sank to her knees, unable to even bear her own weight, much less run away from the obscene, heart-breaking scene. Her daughter, her one love in life! Not just submitting, but enjoying the lewd manipulations of the man above her! The tears coursed silently down the distraught mother's cheeks as her eyes remained glued to the salacious display before her ... her own daughter....
... Laura Morgan lay flat on her back in the grass and felt Larry's hugely expanding cock tease in and out of her in a quickening rhythm, as her cuntal-walls slowly expanded in her vagina's desire to accept all of it, until finally she could actually feel the tickling hairs of his balls slapping into the smooth crevice of her ass-cheeks when he lowered himself into her. Tingling sensations of aroused desire coursed through her veins, instigating new, salacious little chills that began to run along the base of her spine as she felt the measured tempo of Larry's strong thick cock skewering moistly into her upturned loins.
Laura's naked body began to twitch and writhe under him, and she heard mewling sounds tumbling from her lips, incessant little noises of passion that bubbled uncontrollably from her sensually parted mouth. Larry's unshaven face came down to kiss her and she thrust her tongue up into his mouth, drawing back her legs slightly, her buttocks moving provocatively against the softness of the grass, her seething pussy contracting as the bliss-building sensations increased unbelievably .with his every stroke.
Larry felt her urgently answering throbs around the full, pulsing length of his deeply buried cock. Her moistly clasping cunt-flesh had begun a vibrant opening and closing action as it clutched at his throbbing rod of male-flesh. Her pleasurable whining and purring sounds were suddenly filling the air and her head rolled from side to side on the grass, while her hips started a slow, obscene rotation around his cock sunk deep in her sun-browned belly. He clenched his teeth tightly, sensing her nibbling vagina screwing itself up closer against his hair-covered loins.
Marge couldn't believe her eyes as she watched her innocent young daughter thrusting her beautiful, hungry young pussy lewdly up against the intruding cock of the muscular man above her. She wanted to scream out, to rush in and tear them apart, to protect her young daughter from the pain and shame she knew always accompanied sex. But she couldn't. All the strength in her had instantly evaporated in the burning realization that Laura was feeling no shame, was experiencing no pain, was in fact aggressively accepting the man's massive penis into her clasping vagina with an abandon and ecstasy that made her self-repressed mother gasp. She stared at the lewdly undulating couple, her eyes riveted on the glistening area of their loins, her own body beginning to tingle with the unwanted vicarious thrill of his blood-swollen penis sliding easily in and out, in and out, of her daughter's wetly lubricated young vagina.
Laura Morgan's eyes widened, as she felt an abrupt new wave of sensual entrancement saturating her whole tingling body. A maddening electric-like prickle began in the sanctuary of her womb, spreading relentlessly over the raw nerve-ends of her satin-smooth flesh. She knew that a mass of exquisite moisture was enticingly covering the entire area of her nakedly exposed vaginal area. She rotated her hips excitedly from side to side around Larry's fleshy, plunging cock, sensing the complete dilation of her cunt as it sucked in time to his swollen cock's rhythmic throbs. Then he made himself immobile, resting above her with his strong arms placed on either side of her shoulders, letting her trembling, impassioned body pump up and down at will on the rigid shaft of solidly throbbing flesh that was fusing them into the oneness of soul and body.
Marge made one last attempt to escape, to get up and leave this heart-breaking scene, but she couldn't. She remained immobilized by her revulsion and could only stare in horrible fascination as her daughter's moist, grasping cunt slid up and down the thick cock, the thin pink ridges of inner flesh pulling out and clinging to it as she screwed her luscious buttocks down on the grass, the salacious mouth up between her thighs absorbing the soft folds back into her when it swallowed the viscid, glistening length of his lust-engorged penis on the slow, tantalizing upstroke.
The unmoving young man watched the young girl's voluptuously naked body increase its eager gyrations and up-and-down motions with the passing of each second, the urgency of her thrusts against him growing more pronounced, her desire-grited teeth in plain view as she strained toward that illusive orgasm. He felt the flow of her cuntal moisture coating her hungrily sucking pussy and heard the lewd wet sluicing sounds of the in-and-out fucking movements as Laura thrust greedily up his cock, taking it deep inside her, her back raising high to arch her cock-starved cunt tight up against him ... Christ, it was too much ... too much! He was ready to explode with the brain-warping lust she had peaked inside him!
He reached back, grasping her ankles and raising them slowly up and over her shoulders, eliciting a tiny wail of passion from her as he rolled her into a helpless ball of obscenely positioned loveliness beneath him.
Blinded with his own maddening desire, Larry drew his deeply buried penis form her cunt until only it huge bulbous tip was penetrating, then he plunged forward with every ounce of strength in him, fucking the full, aching length of it fiercely into her defenselessly exposed vagina.
"Auuugghhh ... ooohhhhh ..,. ooohhhh!" Laura grunted as it raced up into her, hearing and feeling the damp smack of his pelvis battering against her nakedly upraised cunt. His strong, heavy body dropped down onto her with jarring force, crushing her full, aching breasts beneath her knees and into her chest. His thickly swollen cock smashed into her receptive cunt like a battering ram, pushing the no-longer resisting folds of desire-moistened flesh again and again in wild, rippling waves before its smooth, rubbery head.
Oh, God, he had done it, Laura reasoned in her mounting bliss ... if only he didn't fail her now! Ooohhh ... she loved him, adored him ... and his wonderful, handsome cock...! He'd begun longer, even harder strokes into her seething channel, while its moistly quivering walls clasped desperately around the thick, fleshy shaft slithering up frantically to devour its length to the hilt. His heavy, sperm-bloated balls were slapping deliciously into the dampness between her buttocks. She moaned loudly in relief to the complete filling of her cock-split pussy-hole, while he started a deep-thrusting grind into her thirstily palpitating cunt. She sensed her head tossing wildly, her mouth gasping and chanting unintelligibly in her maddening entrancement.
Laura's beautiful mother leaned unmoving against the protective oak tree, her eyes wide with horror as she watched her thrashing young daughter increase the maddening tempo of her grinding thrusts. Marge's belly was knotted with mixed feelings of shame, fear, and anger. She felt betrayed by Laura's obscene undulations, and yet she couldn't control a growing tingle in her own loins, an increasing excitement caused by the very lewdness of their passionate embrace. She tried to still the fire growing in her, but her attention was drawn irresistibly to the terrible scene only fifty feet away. Her ears heard the incomprehensible sounds of lust coming from her sweet young daughter's mouth, and she remained frozen by the complete unreality of what she was witnessing. No, she thought to herself wildly, not Laura ... not my sweet little baby girl....
"Oh, God, Larry ... I'm ... I-I'm going to ... I'm going to cum...! Ooohhh ... yes ... yesss, Darling ... I'm cumming ...! Ohhhhh ... fuck ... fuck me hard ... harder!" Laura pleaded in a voice shrill with desire, her hands clawing at his hard-driving buttocks, pulling him with impassioned frenzy deeper and deeper into her widespread crotch.
His thickly burgeoning cock, fucking into her without mercy, made the cords in her throat and neck tighten in an unmistakable signal. She could think of nothing but the enormous, cataclysmic buildup rising like wildfire inside her! Her legs on either side of his plunging loins were jerking and twitching in lewd depravity, their warm, soft, white strength clamping him tight, then releasing him as she pulled her knees back against the tips of her swollen breasts, waggling and thrusting her wet crotch and buttocks up at him, moaning and gasping continuously. She wailed to herself in her delicious enchantment, realizing that she was hopelessly impaled on his marvelous, rock-hard cock fucking into her seething vagina.
Larry had reached that point where he knew he'd blow his mind if he didn't cum soon! He gasped downward at where his lust-swollen rod was slipping smoothly in and out of her crazily working cunt, and concentrated on the feel of the soft hair-lined folds clasping and clinging to his furiously rampaging penis thrusting with jack-hammer force up into her.
He increased the pace and deepened his fucking as she writhed like a woman possessed beneath him, grinding up and down his cock with unbelievable fury, her legs ever jerking, her toes curling as she lurched her trembling thighs wide and upward. He watched her breasts heave and quiver beneath his brutal pummeling ... even saw their tiny nipples expand before his eyes as she tossed her head madly from side to side.
Then suddenly, she convulsed under him with the explosion of her passion!
"Oh ... Ohooohhh ... ,yes! Yessss! Here it cums! Oh my God! Now ... Nowwww! I-I-I'm cuummmiiinnnggg!"
Her cunt-walls opened as might a myriad of tiny springs, emitting a flood of warm, gushing fluid to bathe his thrusting, rampaging cock. He rammed harder, faster, burrowing it deep, deep into the hot liquid depths of her desperately spewing cunt while the warm, wet secretion seeped moistly out around the lewd battering-ram of his cock, flowing down the crevice of her ass onto the grass beneath them, flooding his lust-tightened balls that were slapping rhythmically against her nakedly spasming anus.
"Oh, God ... Darling ... Darling!" Laura chanted, twisting and writhing in under him, spurring him on to force her legs farther and farther back over her head while he fucked into her like a madman. Bright flashes filled the sky above her again and again as she continued to groan out her climax, her cuntal emissions still flowing in spurts down the stretched and quivering cheeks of her roundly straining buttocks.
Then ... then, she felt Larry tense, jerk and curse, followed by the hot jets of his sperm shooting deep up into the deep, hungry sanctuary of her waiting womb. Her head swam with licentious bliss as the hot, powerful squirts splattered wildly into her, filling-her to the bursting point with their warm sticky whiteness. The hot viscid walls of her spasming vagina clasped and unclasped feverishly, milking the jerking organ like a sucking, starving mouth....
Her soft, lovely body seemed suddenly drained of everything and her limbs collapsed loosely on the matted grass as Larry released his grip on her legs. She lay spread-eagled and spent, feeling his heavy weight lifting from between her open thighs and the rush of air brush over her sweat-soaked body.
As they rolled away from each other, completely satiated by the intensity of their spent passion, Marge Morgan suddenly became aware of where she was, and what she had witnessed. Her shock and revulsion at having seen her own daughter thrashing about naked on the exposed hillside quickly turned into a feeling of disgust with herself at having watched them like some fourteen year old peeping torn, unable to tear her eyes from their lewd performance. She felt a strange sense of guilt invade her being, as though she had been caught sneaking a look at some obscene photograph, and knew she couldn't let herself be discovered, couldn't ever let her daughter know she had spied on them like some perverted voyeur.
She raised her head once more to them, and saw that her daughter had reached over and grasped Larry's now flaccid cock gently, as though it were a cherished doll she loved to play with. Quickly, the anguished young mother turned away, not able to bear the sight any longer, and eased her way silently from the top of the hill back down the way she had come, crouched over and fleeing like an animal. As soon as she had gone beyond their sight and hearing, she stood up quickly, stumbled, caught herself, and began to make her way blindly down the hill toward the Village as fast as she could. Gradually she slowed down, came to her senses, began to think about what had occurred rationally, and tried to force her mind into a decision.
As she came out of the trees, and back into the clearing below, she looked as though she'd just returned from an invigorating, but somewhat dull, hike. The superficial calm of her exterior features, however, was belied by the tumult inside her mind. She had already decided that her daughter must leave this awful place, must come home with her to Miami at once! There was no other way. Marge could see her sweet young child drifting inexorably away from her, caught in the current of her innocent and naive passions, swept away unaware of the evil influence of this terrible place, this "commune." She had to come home. For her own sake and, though Marge wouldn't have admitted it, for her mother's sanity as well. She had to come home!
CHAPTER THREE
Laura Morgan was still flushed with the exertion of her passionate love-making, when she and Larry wandered down to the Village about twenty minutes later. It had been so wonderful, the feel of coarse grass on her naked body, the hot sun standing high overhead, the magnificent body of her boyfriend drawing from her every ounce of her sexual energies. They often made love in the middle of the day, and they never tired of the infinite ways they used their fresh young bodies together, ways which, before she had met Larry, Laura had never even suspected existed.
They ambled slowly into the clearing, rubbing their satiated bodies against each other with gentle playfulness, bumping and stumbling with laughing abandon. Then Laura stopped in surprise as she saw the familiar Ford Falcon parked in front of the main meeting hall.
Larry looked up and a slight frown twisted his face.
"Yeah, it sure does."
Laura ran up to the small car, peeked inside, saw the familiar upholstery and fittings, and then turned to Larry enthusiastically.
"It is her, Larry, she's come to visit me!"
"Great, kiddo ... great," he said darkly.
Laura didn't notice his tone of voice, but started quickly up the stairs onto the front porch of the meeting hall. She met Spencer, the thickly bearded man in overalls who had made such a good impression on her mother, coming out the front door.
"Hey, Spencer, guess what?"
Spencer smiled at her excitement, and gave her a fatherly pat on the head.
"Your mother's come to visit. I know, I've already met her."
"Isn't she great?" Laura didn't wait for an answer. "Where is she? Is she inside?" She started for the screen door of the meeting hall.
"No, she's not in there," Spencer advised her. "I showed her the way to your cabin. I think she wanted to sit down and rest. She was pretty tired from her climb."
"What climb?"
"She took a little walk up to the Chapel, looking for you," Spencer answered. He caught the quick and apprehensive look Laura shot Larry, who was sitting now on the steps below them. "But she said she couldn't find you."
Laura's face eased in a sly wink at him, and she laughed a reassured laugh.
"Well, it's a good thing she didn't. She might not have liked what she found."
"Maybe she should have found us," Larry interjected harshly, "then maybe she'd realize you're a big girl now and she doesn't have to come change your goddamn diapers anymore!"
"Oh Larry," the voluptuous young teenager retorted, "It's the first time she's visited me in all the time I've been up here. You're just being difficult." She turned again to Spencer. "You said she was down at my cabin?"
"Yeah, she went down about fifteen minutes ago.
"Well, I better get on down there then!" she exclaimed excitedly, and skipped down the steps of the meeting hall. She poked her boyfriend as she went down. "Come on, grumpy, come and say hello."
Larry glared at her, and shook his head.
"I'll see her later. If I know her, she'll be here at least a month. I'm going to take a swim."
Laura frowned at him, but then her face brightened immediately.
"Well, you're an old stick in the mud, but I don't care. You just sit here and sulk, I'm going to go have a good time. Bye, sweet." She gave him a playful peck on the cheek, let her eyes linger warmly on his for a split second, and then turned to run gaily across the clearing and down into a grove of oaks on the far side, to where her mother was waiting for her.
Larry sat slumped on the steps, his eyes following her curvaceous body as it finally disappeared in the trees, and then glanced quickly at Spencer.
"Shit," he said simply.
"Well, it might not be all that bad, Larry my boy," Spencer laughed. "Unless I miss my guess pretty badly, it seems that you got that little piece of yours pretty well sewed up. She's not going to go running back to Momma now, not after what you've taught her."
"Awww," Larry answered wearily, "I don't give a fuck if she does. You know that. It just bugs me, you know, when parents can't leave their goddamns kids alone."
"Now now," came the teasing voice behind him. "You're projecting again, Larry boy. Not everybody has the ogres you had for parents, you know."
"Listen, doc, would you do me a favor? Take your freshman psychoanalizing and shove it up your ass for me, would you do that, doc?" Larry said, and then turned to his friend, smiling, to show him he'd only been kidding. "Want to go have a swim?"
"No thank you, Larry, never touch the stuff."
"Right. See you later then."
"And don't worry about Marge Morgan. Who knows, we may not be losing a daughter at all, we may be gaining a mother."
Larry turned to him quizzically, and tried to define his meaning from his leering, hair-covered face.
"Just how, exactly, do you mean that, oh gracious leader?" Larry asked curiously.
"Oh, I don't know," the lewdly grinning man on the porch beamed down at him. "I just think that maybe Marge Morgan likes our little Utopia here, and we just might be able to ... uhh ... persuade her to stay."
"Well, if you can do that, baby, I'll have to hand it to you," Larry said skeptically, "because she's an iceberg, man, a real deep freeze."
"Icebergs melt, Larry my boy, they finally melt."
"Well good luck, flame, you'll need it."
Larry laughed and turned away, and began walking slowly across the clearing. Hell, Spencer is out of his fucking mind, he grinned to himself, but wouldn't that be a kick, though! Getting Laura's puritanical mother to join in on the community fun and games. Then he chuckled aloud. There was no way, not even Spencer with all his talent would ever be able to crack this nut, he felt sure, though it was going to be out of sight watching him try!
* * *
Marge Morgan watched with tears in her eyes as her young daughter stalked away from the tree they'd been sitting under, and disappeared into her cabin, slamming the door behind her. What did I do wrong, she asked herself, but she knew the answer very well.
Laura had come rushing down to the cabin excitedly, and had thrown her arms around her mother joyfully. They had kissed each other again and again. Laura overjoyed to see her mother, but Marge unable to shake the lingering visions of her daughter thrashing under that strange man's weight not even a half hour ago. They had gone to sit in the shade of the towering oak in front of Laura's cabin, and begun to exchange trivial bits of news with each other, how it was in the commune, and how it was in Miami, and on, and on. Finally, Marge had been able to take no more of it, and had abruptly stated that she wanted Laura to come home with her, that the commune was an evil place, and that Laura must leave it at once.
Laura had been taken completely by surprise by the fierceness and irrationality of Marge's attack, and had immediately begun defending the Zodiac and the people who lived there, with fiery intensity. She couldn't understand how her mother could be so dictatorial and show such a lack of understanding after having so long seemed amenable to the idea of her living in the commune. And as Laura had become more and more defensive, Marge had become more and more insistent, until at last they were arguing with each other almost violently, the first time Marge could ever remember having done so.
And now her daughter had left her angrily, saying that there was no way she would go back to Miami, that she loved it in the commune, and was staying there. Marge sat forlornly under the spreading oak, trying wildly to think of another plan of action, and rebuking herself for having lost control with her daughter. She should have known that to insist would only make Laura more insistent on staying. But now what? Her daughter was locked in her cabin, and she was alone, with no one to turn to for help.
--She got up slowly, and began to wander aimlessly up toward the Village. What could she do? Of course, Laura was under age, but Marge would never think of forcing her to go home on that basis. She had to convince her headstrong, young daughter that it was better for her, better for all of them, if she came back. But how?
Suddenly, a desperate thought came to Marge's frantic mind. It was an outside chance, and she didn't know whether she could even force herself to do it, she had to try. She walked quickly up to the Village, strode purposefully to the main meeting hall, and found Spencer sitting on the porch, staring vacantly into the bowl of a freshly smoked pipe. He looked up after she'd called his name twice, and smiled distantly.
"Hello, Marge."
"Spencer, can you tell me where I can find Larry Webb?" Marge had discovered the man's name during her argument with Laura.
"Who?" Spencer replied blankly.
"Larry Webb ... Larry ... Laura's friend." Marge's tongue stumbled over the last word.
"Oh, yeah, Larry ... let's see. He left here just a little while ago."
"Can you tell me where he went?"
"What?"
"Can you tell me where he is now?" Marge asked slowly, infuriated by his seemingly indifferent attitude...." where he is now...?" Spencer echoed, his voice trailing off as his eyes wandered to where a small bird had perched on the railing of the porch.
"Please, Spencer," Marge pleaded with exasperation. "It's very important."
"What? Oh yeah, sorry ... let's see ... oh yeah right, he went down to the Pool."
"To the what?"
"The pool ... oh you don't know about that." Spencer stood up sedately and pointed vaguely towards a path that led out of the clearing. "You just walk on down there, and you'll come to a little pond. That's the pool. I mean, we call it the pool, but it's not a real swimming pool. Although, we do swim in it, so I guess it must be a pool ... right?"
He beamed down on her with a foolish grin on his face, as though he had discovered some very basic truth about life and the workings of nature, but the importance of his find left Marge unimpressed.
"Thank you," she said hurriedly, and turned quickly toward the path he'd indicated.
"No charge," Spencer called after her, giggling ludicrously, "no charge! Maybe you can do me a little favor sometime, hmmmmmm?"
But Marge didn't hear. She already dismissed his obviously intoxicated behavior, and her thoughts were now all focused on what she would say to Larry to convince him to help her persuade Laura to return home. But no matter how hard she tried, all the little speeches she constructed in her head as she walked quickly down the path toward the pool seemed insufficient. How could she even stand in front of this man who had just fucked her daughter right before her very eyes, much less try to convince him to let loose his obviously powerful hold on her? What could she possibly say to him that would have any effect, would hold out even the slightest chance of success?
She still hadn't made up her mind when she came suddenly into a small clearing, with a small pond in the center, and stopped abruptly. She raised her hand to her mouth in surprise at what she saw, and stepped quickly back under the trees. She almost turned back up the path, but something made her turn her eyes back to the side of the pool, and gaze with fascination at the forbidden sight she had stumbled upon.
Larry Webb was standing by the edge of the pond, his tautly muscled young body facing away from her, his naked buttocks and thighs presented clearly to her gaze. He was drying himself slowly with a towel, rubbing his back and legs with languid, loving motions. She stifled a moan of embarrassed excitement and felt the small of her back tingle with the lurid sight. He spread his legs slightly, bending forward to wipe his thighs, and his testicles were dark shadows hanging from between the crevice of his buttocks. A gripping desire settled in Marge's stomach, the lascivious wish to again see his huge penis, as she had that afternoon, and unknowingly Laura's mother found herself mentally willing him to turn around ... turn around and show his genitals to her. Instead, the powerful young man rubbed his chest and arms, his inner thighs, everywhere except where Marge's tortured mind had settled....
God! What was happening to her?
She didn't know what was making her react in such a sex-crazed manner, what was making her stare at him with a tingling in her own loins growing stronger, centering in her aching pubic area and in the taut firmness of her barely covered breasts. She had come down here to stop this man's corrupt seductions of her daughter, but here she was, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, gawking with a growing lewdness. What was wrong with her! She had not even seen a naked man in years, much less felt the obscene sexual tingling that was coursing inexplicably up between her legs now, and she tried to force herself to turn away, to escape the awful temptation she'd avoided for so many years.
But her voluptuous body, goaded by the passions she'd so long repressed, betrayed her in spite of her misery and self-flagellation, powerfully overruling her will with an iron force. Unable to resist, the aroused young mother breathed faster and faster, excited and tormented at the same time, as her daughter's lover pivoted slightly and revealed his balls and fresh young cock to her.
Feet splayed, towel curved underneath and around, the young man began to dry his pubic area in soft, sensuous massages, slowly moving his now limp shaft of male flesh around in the towel, exposing it on all sides to the woman's fevered eyes. Then he moved lower and stroked the distended, sac of his testicles, rubbing between his legs and up around his anus. Then he flipped the towel aside and placed his right hand back on his penis and began to slide his fingers casually up and down it.
Marge stayed, transfixed, as she saw the husky man's flaccid cock turn a stronger reddish color and quickly swell from his knowing manipulations, rising until it was the enormous size she had seen that same afternoon. A low sigh, a moan of pleasure issued from his lips as he shut his eyes for a moment and flicked his hand swiftly back and forth over the now erect shaft of his cock, making it stand out from his hairy loins at a rock-hard angle, its burgeoning, thick blunt head an angry red.
Why ... why he's masturbating! With a cry she was unable to choke away, Marge mewled audibly with the lascivious sight of his masturbation, falling back with her hand over her mouth as the sound erupted spontaneously from her constricted throat.
Larry whirled around, dropping his hand, his eyes filled with fright. "Wha-! Mrs. Morgan! I ... I thought you were talking with Laura!"
"No, I ... I left her a little while ago," Marge managed, swallowing hard, stammering confusedly. This wasn't the way she had planned their talk, not at all! She wasn't sure exactly what she should do now.
"Then ... you've been watching me, haven't you?" An incredibly knowing grin slowly spread on his features as he sensed her sudden confusion.
"You were, weren't you?" he demanded, after his first question only drew a blushing silence. "Hiding in the trees there, getting your jollies watching me play with myself. Weren't you, Mrs. Morgan?"
"No ... no...." she protested weakly.
"Yes," he said softly. He took a step for her. "You wanted to get to know your daughter's boyfriend a little better, didn't you? Well, here I am, Mrs. Morgan, in the flesh, so to speak. And I bet you liked seeing me beat off, too. I bet you're all hot under that little summer dress of yours," he added cockily, grinning with an all too apparent smirk. "Well, you wanted to see me naked and here I am. Admit it!"
"No!" Marge blurted irrationally. "No, I didn't want any such thing! I don't need to! I've already seen you naked!" And then she realized what she had said and groaned piteously, sinking weakly to the ground. Larry, puzzled, his original confidence sagging, walked over to the stricken woman.
"You ... what?" he asked incredulously. "You've seen me naked before now? When?"
"Please-please don't make things worse," she said, stiffening her resolve. "Just ... just get your clothes on and go away."
Larry stared at her for a minute, and then put his head back and laughed. That was all: laughed-but it stirred the anger of shame and anguish in Marge's already confused mind.
"All right, if you must know," she retorted, her face crimson, "I saw you this afternoon. You and Laura in the grass on that hill ... you two were...." She choked on the words, sensations of excitement and revulsion welling up in her at the remembrance.
"Go on, Mrs. Morgan," he urged breathlessly, his cock jerking hard. "What did you see?"
"Everything!" Marge gasped recklessly, rapidly losing control of her logic. "I saw everything! You raped her! She doesn't want you! You must have forced her to...."
"Fuck me...?" the muscled young man laughed. "Oh, far from it, Mrs. Morgan, far from it. If anything, she raped me! Didn't you hear her begging for it? Begging for my cock?"
Larry watched the distraught young mother wince at his brutal description, and then grew harsh.
"You try to break us up, Mrs. Morgan, and she'll come with me. That I can promise you."
"But ... but you don't love her!"
"Whether I do or don't doesn't matter. What matters is what you are going to do in the next few minutes."
Marge stared at her daughter's lover fixedly, her mind a swirling fire of total disconsertion. Her carefully considered battle plans were in disarray; her most controlled management of her secret desires had crumbled as if made of clay; and now, the shattering blow of once more being confronted by his naked, hotly aroused and fully erect penis lanced through her armor to strike fear and unwanted desire in her heart and she was at the edge of collapse and breakdown.
"I'll fuck your sweet little daughter until hell freezes-over if I want to!" Larry Webb said sadistically, and watched as tears brimmed Marge's eyes and spilled down over her cheeks.
She knew that she shouldn't be crying, that it wouldn't do any good, but she felt too wretched and indecisive, so disturbed and crazy from her unwanted passions, that the flood was a reaction and she let the tears flow freely, pouring from her like cascading rain, sobbing brokenly beside the naked, still hard-cocked man.
Dimly she was aware that Larry had moved closer and was kneeling beside her, his hand touching her shoulder as if he had relented in his cold, callous, merciless onslaught of her senses, and dimly she smelled the odor of his clean body. Her eyes blurred the close-up image of his erect penis and balls, and she cried deeply and despairingly.
The aroused young man felt the warm, resilient flesh of Laura's mother so near to his, felt her quivering body beneath his lightly encircling arms. Goddamn! Oh, it was going to be good, really good....
He laughed as he remembered how he had thought this helpless woman, huddled on the ground in front of him was an iceberg, untouchable. Spencer would be pissed he didn't get to her first, but what the hell, Larry was not going to let a golden opportunity like this pass by. Both the mother and the daughter! The blood in his cock was throbbing like mad, and his balls ached with the prurient anticipation racing across his flesh. Damn, he wouldn't be able to last much longer; he was going to have to screw this voluptuous older woman or shoot his cum all over her right there.
"Listen," he whispered in her ear. "Listen, I'm sorry. I think we should be friends ... Good friends...." His words were a long, planned flow of honey, mesmerically soothing murmurs which, combined with his nearness and nakedness and excitement, would slowly have the effect on her he desired. He began to stroke the satiny skin of her shoulder and upper arm gently, and continued to intone softly, "Don't think about it, Mrs. Morgan ... Don't think about the way Laura and I looked on the hill this afternoon, the way my penis was inside her, sliding up and down, the way she held me tightly, wanting more ... Don't think about it, Mrs. Morgan...."
He felt her warm breasts pressing against his rib cage and her nipples hardening slightly, and he smiled lewdly as he continued the soft hypnotic sounds. He knew that even though he was saying not to remember, that his spoken lewdnesses were doing just the opposite-the tortured mother was thinking even harder of her daughter and him fucking away, and that the mental images were in turn causing unmistakable, if unwanted, arousal in her body.
And he was not mistaken. Marge could feel a certain twitching deep within her belly, and her traitorous vagina began to secrete droplets of moisture which flowed warmly down between her legs to dampen her soft inner thighs. She tried to will her body to cease its tingling ardor, but she had kept her sexuality repressed too long, and it was rising in her now with undeniable force.
Her daughter's lover continued to stroke her shoulder, letting his hand slide slowly and lightly down her side, knowing it was having the desired electric effect upon her. She sobbed against his bare chest, finding a gentle security in his strokings ... she began to whimper softly ... and all the while he was whispering words in her hair, words constantly bolder, and more corrupt ... "Don't think, Marge ... no, your daughter and I were fucking ... but you mustn't think of such things ... it only makes you excited...."
Marge was breathing faster now, and then her daughter's boyfriend brought his hand casually and lightly up against the ripely swelling mound of one of her breasts rubbing the pliantly quivering flesh tenderly through the light material of her dress. He heard the sharp intake of breath, felt the shudder of excitement spread through her voluptuous body in a shock wave, and convulsively she stiffened against him. But he didn't stop caressing her breast, running his thumb freely over her nipple, and his cock lurched obscenely in his loins, throbbing with the victory he felt was now imminent....
A warning voice in Marge's mind penetrated the lethargy her hapless state of affairs had placed her in. "No...." she gasped, trying to jerk upright from his clasp. "No ... what are you trying to do to me?"
"Come now, Mrs. Morgan. You want me, don't you? You want me to love you like I loved your daughter ... that's why you were watching us this afternoon and didn't say anything then ... that's why you were staring at me just now ... that's why you're holding me now. Be honest with yourself, Mrs. Morgan ... you want me to fuck you...."
"Oh, God...." she moaned, still trying to fight the voice of sensuality deep inside her, and she jackknifed against him, squirming her hips on the hard ground, turning her body away from him, him and his hard, up-thrust cock which seemed always in front of her, taunting ... taunting.
And in doing so, her mouth brushed the young man's lips; he kissed her suddenly, grinding his lips down, completely engulfing her mouth and flicking his tongue forward immediately to enticingly meet hers. No ... this is wrong ... I love my little Laura ... I can't let this happen ... I Marge crazily thought, but already her mouth and lips and tongue were responding. The primeval urges of the strong, young male and the unrequited, long denied body of the tortured mother were far, far too strong, too basic in nature to allow the artificial restraints of social pressure to interfere, and she let Larry saw his tongue mercilessly in and out of her mouth, and continue to pinch her nipples and cup her breasts, and she made tiny, passionate mewlings deep in her throat.
Larry's fingers had pushed her dress up, and slipped inside her brief nylon panties, grazing against the curling strands of her soft, silken pussy hair. He let his hand slide still lower, until his middle finger was in sudden, heated contact with the warm, damp flesh-folds of her excitedly palpitating vagina. She tried one last time to stop herself, and then everything became a whirring blur ... Oh God, she couldn't stop it now, she liked it ... she liked it....
Automatically she spread her thighs, opening the smooth flesh of her inner legs to his softly probing touch. The heat of desires mingled with the blistering rage running rampant in the testicles and cock of her daughter's naked boyfriend, and the warm air of the fading summer day wafted across her now exposed vagina, sending another ripple of wonderfully rising sensations through her.
"God, but I want you," Larry said huskily, and Marge thought that her whole body was afire. Shame at what she was doing swept over her flesh even as a wanton unaccustomed craving agitated her loins, and with depraved sureness, the muscled young man probed deeper and deeper inside her moistly throbbing vagina.
I'm a bitch ... a slut ... a whore ... she told herself in utter capitulation. I can't help myself ... I'm sicker than I ever imagined ... but ohhh God I don't want it to stop....
Marge moaned aloud and struggled against herself vainly. "Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh...." she whimpered helplessly as he continued to jerk his middle finger, then two fingers, then three, in and out of her hungrily clasping cunt-hole.
"You want me to fuck you with my cock, Mrs. Morgan?" he asked with sneering confidence.
"No, please ... don't ask ... don't...."
But he had to, he had to subjugate his girlfriend's beautiful mother just as he had had to force her daughter to bow to his whims. The cruel and malicious streak which curled deep inside Larry Webb's soul rose to the surface at exciting times like this, rose as surely as oil on water. With lecherous, gleaming eyes afire he grinned up at the now humbled, now surrendered woman beside him, and moved his lewd fingers still faster inside her tender, moistly sucking cunt. "Yes! You will tell me you want to fuck me! Tell me Mrs. Morgan, tell me like Laura told me ... Tell me you want my big cock inside you ... Tell me you want me to fuck you...."
Marge moaned aloud and struggled against his burning fingers. "Ohh, God, ohhh...." His carnal words invoked her to react with strange, blood-pounding need. "Oh, yesss, yes, fuck me, Larry...." She screamed hysterically. "Fuck meeeeee!"
The young man scooped up Laura's mother in his strong, muscular arms before she knew what was happening, and carried her a short distance into the trees, dropping her unceremoniously on a bed of leaves. He gazed with lewd, rapturous intent down at her sprawled, wide-legged body, her dress up around her slim waist, her panties down around her knees where he'd already pulled them. He drooled anticipatorily as he looked upon her defenseless pussy, completely and abandonedly splayed in feasting array below him. "Tell me again," he groaned, rubbing his thick shaft up and down as he stood over the insensate mother. "Tell me again, only this time tell me about my cock! Now tell me, you slut, before I get angry! "
A foaming tide of salacious passion ripped through the final cloth of Marge's defenses like a hot knife through butter. She looked up through tear-stained eyes at the strutting boy, at his giant, hard cock jutting from his black-haired loins, at the oozing drop of seminal fluid emanating from its tiny, winking cock-slit, and her mind was immersed in her own sexual whirlwind. Without considering, without a will of her own any longer, Marge dropped her mouth open and heard herself say:
"Yes, Larry! I want your cock to cum inside me, fuck me until I cum too! Fuck me hard, just like you fucked my daughter!"
* * *
Laura Morgan got up from the bed in her cabin where she'd been sitting, and peeked out the window to where she had been talking with her mother. Seeing she wasn't there, Laura walked outside and looked hesitantly around the cabin, thinking perhaps Marge was still nearby. When she saw she wasn't, the beautiful young daughter returned to the steps of her cabin, and sat down sadly.
Oh, why did I get so upset with her? she asked herself. It's so childish. The small young girl felt no more anger towards her mother now, realizing that Marge had only been doing what she thought right. But why couldn't Mom see that the commune wasn't the evil place she thought it was, but a haven of freedom, of happiness? She bent down and picked up a small twig between her fingers, and played with it unconsciously as her mind ran over the argument with her mother. She sat this way for a few moments, and then stood up abruptly and began walking up toward the Village.
She would apologize for the way she had shouted at her mother, but she wouldn't give in. She wouldn't go back to Miami. Perhaps she hadn't been completely fair, though, and she decided resolutely to visit her lonely mother more often, and to write her every chance she got. Laura thought to herself, as she walked along under the late afternoon sun beating down through the canopy of oak above her head, that that would be enough of a compromise for her mother, and if it wasn't ... well, it was the most she could do!
Coming up the front porch of the meeting hall, she saw Spencer sitting with a small cat soundly asleep in his lap.
"Hey, Spencer, have you seen my mother?"
Spencer looked up slowly, and answered her with great precision in his voice.
"Uhh ... yeah, Laura she ... uhhh ... she went down to the pool, I think."
Laura looked at him amusedly, and with a small laugh, said, "My oh my, you look like you're flying, man!"
Spencer didn't answer, but made a funny face, spread his arms out from his body like a pair of wings, and began to sing in an off-key voice. "Up we gooo ... into the wild blue yonder...."
Laura turned away from him with a laugh, and headed down toward the pool. Spencer is a scream, she thought to herself, but a really heavy character, too. Laura didn't know, of course, that what she assumed to be the unfathomable depth of Spencer's personality was in reality only an endless vacuum.
She walked quickly down the path leading to the pool, and stopped by the edge of the clearing. There was no one in the water, or anywhere to be seen. She looked around once more, and then decided Spencer must have been seeing things, which was very possible, and turned to go back up the path. She stopped as something caught her eye. She bent to pick it up, and saw that it was her mother's shoe, one of the ones she'd been wearing only a short time ago. Well she thought to herself, she must be around here somewhere.
Laura turned back into the clearing, and began to walk around to the far side. She hadn't gone very far when she heard voices somewhere in the trees off to her right.
"Mom?" she called out, but didn't get an answer. She turned to where she thought she had heard the voices, and began to make her way in under the trees. She had almost decided she'd been hearing things, when she came to a tiny exposed place between two or three large oaks, and stopped abruptly, her eyes widening, an electric jolt of disbelief surging through her horrified body.
For what she saw, incredibly, unbelievably, were the nakedly entwined bodies of her voluptuous mother and her own muscular boyfriend!
She reeled in shock, and felt the strength leave her legs in a rush, making her feel totally helpless and alone. It couldn't be! It must be some kind of nightmare! It isn't possible!
But it was possible, and it was happening. Right before her incredulously staring eyes. Her own mother! That was the most hideous part, seeing her own prudish, puritanical mother who, as far as Laura was concerned, was the ultimate in virtue! There she was! lying on her back in a lewdly sensual position of unnatural sex, her legs raised high in the air as Larry buried his head between her inner thighs! My God! How could she! Laura slumped against a tree, sick to her soul, the breath which she had been going to scream with knocked from her lungs.
Marge was clutching the tousled hair of Larry Wells, her eyes squeezed shut and her pelvis grinding madly up against his face. Laura could see her boyfriend's tongue lash out lewdly at her mother's nakedly exposed pussy, disappearing up into the soft, hair-lined slit of her widespread vagina, and Laura heard the resultant ecstatic chants mewling from her mother's passion-crazed mouth, broken and slurred, and then the harsh, deep voice of the man down between her legs.
"That's enough of that, Mrs. Morgan! You wanted my cock inside your tight little cunt, and now you're going to get it. I'm gonna fuck you blue, baby!"
Marge lay frozen under the bluntness of his obscene words. And yet their very lewdness excited her more and more, and she was at a loss to understand her reactions to what was occurring. She could feel the heated moisture of her passion soaking her vagina, and she crossed her legs to press them closely together, trying to ease the burning sensation that was churning madly in the pit of her naked belly. Larry's fervent kisses and minipulations had turned her entire body into a desire-inflamed bundle of raw nerve ends that she was helpless to control. Then his hands seized both her breasts and squeezed them together in two huge, firm mounds of roundly straining flesh. She could feel small pin pricks of delicious feeling racing through the tips of them as he rolled the hardening nipples maddeningly between his thumbs and forefingers. She could feel the heat of his breath rushing into her ear as he turned his head toward her to lock his mouth wildly against hers. She tried for a moment to twist away, but the pressure of his strong male grip was altogether too much for her in her present state of mind.
She had forgotten about her daughter, about everything, except the sheer joy of having this glorious young man's lusting body against her crazily tingling female flesh. His hands had now dropped from her firm, wide-set breasts to fondle her hips and trace the lovely full convexities of her buttocks.
She moaned ecstatically, her arms reaching out to twine tightly around his neck, pulling his muscular bronzed chest into the soft whiteness of her breasts. She despised herself for the surges of hot longing that made her ache to have him inside her, to take her at will ... Then suddenly she was released from the depraved bondage of desire, from her eighteen long years of sexual repression, the tremendous relief of acceptance clearing her mind of every thought but that of anticipation. She wanted him now, incredibly, that instant, and began to wriggle the lower half of her lush body sensually against him. He pulled her tightly to him and dropped one hand down between their desperately writhing bodies to take his hard, throbbing cock between his fingers and guide it forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the full, fleshy lips of her cunt. She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes with a shudder as she felt its soft electrical contact against the sensitive, unaccustomed edges of her moistened pussy. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity, lying still in utter wantonness beneath him, not even daring to breathe.
Laura couldn't believe her eyes as she watched, or the tight sensation gripping her in the depths of her belly. The brutish tableau was beyond her comprehension, her one overpowering thought that somehow, someway, it was her mother's fault. Goddamn Mom and her lectures on morality and purity and watching out for me ... what a bunch of crap! The daughter was unable to attach any guilt for the carnal scene before her to her boyfriend. Larry was a man after all-and more importantly a man that she thought she loved. Defiant with the stubborn pride of a teenager, rebellious at the slightest hint of criticism about him, determined to prove to the world-and herself-that the first choice that she had made on her own wasn't a mistake in judgment, Laura saw Larry not as he was but as she desperately wanted to believe him to be. So as she looked at her boyfriend, at his rigid cock wavering above the wide-split furrow of her mother's moist pink cunt, she believed adamantly that he was the victim, not the perpetrator....
"Oh God," Marge moaned, her voice trembling as she felt the first shocking pressure of Larry's lust-enraged cock against the tight elastic opening of her vagina.
He shoved.
"Ooooh, no, waaaiiit-it's too much!" the now completely aroused young mother cried as the hugely aroused young mother cried as the hugely swollen cock-head slipped through, stretching wide the small wet cuntal opening until Marge felt as though her thighs were splitting apart from the relentless outward pressure.
"God, no, please, you're hurting me, you're hurting me!" She was almost screaming as she jerked open her eyes in fear and saw that he had not even heard her. He was lost in the throes of his maddened desire, and he was completely oblivious to everything else, even her pleading cries.
Suddenly, his face twisted into a contorted expression of sheer raw lust as he looked down at this older woman helplessly spread-eagled beneath him, the head of his blood-engorged penis disappearing excitingly up into the soft, curling hair of her pussy. He fell forward, then, his weight smashing her full, rounded breasts tightly back against her chest. He thrust his hips forward at the same time and his long, thick cock slid hard up into her pinkly glistening cunt, pushing the soft moist flesh of her long unused pussy in gently rippling waves before it. There was no stopping it, until with a loud groan from his throat, his balls smacked heavily into the quivering white cheeks of her tightly clenched ass.
"OOOOh! Oooooh!" she wailed beneath him. She had never felt so utterly filled in her life, and his rock-hard, heavily-veined cock felt as though it had torn her vagina into a thousand tiny shreds as he rammed into her without thought of mercy or injury to her tender, almost virginal insides. And now his cock lay sunk deep in her trembling belly, filling it to the point of bursting. There was not a single tiny ridge of flesh on it that she could not feel as it pressed tightly into the cruelly split flesh of her pussy, encased in the moist hot sheath like a brutally planted spike.
The young man levered her beautifully satin-smooth legs up off the ground in an arc far back over her head, pressing her feet harshly into the leaves on either side of her shoulders. Her tortured body was bent back double, the pain of her strained muscles almost overpowering. The glistening wet plane of her cunt was presented up to him as he quickened his vicious thrusts, the lewd intrusion making her dilated vagina grow and expand before his uncontrolled assault, the heavy weight of his muscular loins crushing hard into her buttocks, sweeping them wider and wider apart as he lunged forward with all his strength to sink his cock as deep as he was able into her smooth white belly.
The pretty secretary groaned defenselessly beneath him, her face showing a mixture of the pain, humiliation and pleasure she was feeling. She tried not to move as she felt the pain wonderously easing with the stillness of her body. His hands cupped her full naked breasts, twisting and squeezing them with savage brutality, teasing and tugging at them until she thought they would burst from the wild manipulations. Then, as if a miracle had taken place, she felt her pleasure increasing and the warmly seeping walls of her cunt began to clasp hungrily around his thick, blood-engorged rod, her hips slithering up wetly to devour the length of his lust-hardened flesh, for the first time in eighteen years. His hugely swollen balls still smacked into the passion-drenched crevice of her buttocks, making the sensitive area tingle and contract as she began a slowly tentative, rhythmic undulation to meet the long, spearing strokes of his fucking.
Marge's horrified young daughter stood in almost hypnotic fascination as she watched with utter disbelief her mother's growing response to the powerful thrusts of her own boyfriend. The years of filial bond with her mother had instilled in her a closeness that made what Marge was doing even more of a betrayal than if she had been just another girl. Marge was like a carbon copy of her daughter as she writhed and moaned hedonistically under Larry's muscular body, and this added to the shock and hurt Laura felt at having found her mother there. The young teenager was enraged and embittered by the even more flagrant abuse of essentially seeing herself, a mirror image of what it was like when Larry fucked her. It was a terrible lampoon of the love she felt! A filthy satire of what she considered to be above the animalistic ruttings of two people copulating! Instinctively defiant at what she subconsciously considered to be a perverted characteristic of her relationship with Larry, Laura still felt a close-knit projection with her mother, one which made her wince with pangs of simulated passion-and this closeness only served to exaggerate her emotions further. It was like adding color to a black and white photo, making the details, the richnesses stand out sharply, to etch themselves forever on the retinas of the tortured girl's mind.
Marge felt no pain now, and her eyes were tightly closed as she writhed beneath Larry Webb in the intensity of her wild, ever-mounting excitement. Larry sweated over her, moving suddenly into a series of longer, smoother plunging strokes, that brought his lust-thickened penis almost all the way out of her softly clutching vagina on the backstroke, and then ramming forward into her until he could feel the huge, blood-swollen head of his cock colliding hard against the cushiony tip of her cervix deep inside. The fire of animal lust raged out of control in his madly fucking loins and he was aware of nothing else in the world but the fact that a beautiful, full bodied woman was responding under him to his skewering cock and frantically roving hands. Spurred on by Marge's wildly pitching body and the way she kicked with her heels against his shoulders, he dug more deeply into her, pinning her flatter to the ground and restricting her movements until she thought she would go thoroughly mad unless she could move with him as freely as she wanted. He raised himself over her in a push up position, his hands dropping from her passion-flushed breasts to grasp her ankles and pry them farther apart and level with her upper torso for leverage.
Marge moaned and attempted to hump upwards as she felt her climax approaching, driving her wild with a force she had never experienced, not even with her husband Bruce, so long ago.
"Oh, I'm cumming! I'm cumming, Oh God, I'm cumming nowwww! Fuck harder! Fuck harder!" Her hands darted behind his hard driving buttocks, pulling him as far as humanly possible into her openly spasming loins. "I'm cumming-aaaaaah!" she cried in a voice shrill with mind reeling passion. Her cum flowed wetly out around his still driving cock and spilled down into the soft, excitedly clenching crevice of her buttocks, flooding his testicles and the base of his cock as he drubbed unrelentingly into her. Dazzling flashes of light filled her head as she continued to groan out her orgasm, her juices still flowing in unchecked spurts down the full quivering moons of her uncontrollably jerking buttocks.
Then Larry reached down and cupped the twin globes of her ass, stretching them side, and watched his angry red shaft pummeling into her pussy. He could feel the hot load of his sperm building up for an earth shattering release, the broad blunt head of his cock flexing and suddenly growing larger inside her insanely ravaged cuntal passage. At last he erupted, his hot thick liquid shooting deep up into her widely stretched womb, mixing salaciously with the wetness of her own cumming. Her head whirled in mindless sensuality as the burning, powerful squirts surged deeply inside her, filling her to overflowing with their warm sticky whiteness. The hot wet walls of her pussy clasped and unclasped desperately, milking at his crazily jerking organ like a sucking, starving mouth. Marge's firmly sculptured body was drained of all the passion she'd repressed so long, and her limbs collapsed loosely on the ground as the young man's grip on her quivering buttocks slowly relaxed and was finally released altogether. He rolled off her, breathing thickly in an effort to fill his lungs with air. Marge groaned at the loss of his penis and felt a cool rush of breeze caressing her spent, cum-soaked loins.
She rolled over on her stomach and lay still, unable to move and not really caring. Her body was wholly satiated as it had never been before and she ached all over, and dimly felt Larry's broad palm resting slackly on her thigh, which was still wet and slippery from his sperm. More of the slowly cooling fluid trickled in a tiny rivulet out of her vagina to form a moist, lewd pool between her still widespread legs.
"Mother! You bitch! You whore! I hate you!"
Laura! Marge sat bolt upright, and with terrifying clarity all feelings of sex were ripped from her as she saw her hysterical daughter rush toward her, her firm young hands in fists, and tears pouring down her cheeks. Oh, God! This was the worst possible thing that could have happened! She had started out with plans to rid her child of the lewd demon of sex, and here she was, caught in the very act which she had decried. Fear was sheened on her face, adding a white, death-like pallor to her. "Laura!" she whispered. "What ... what?"
"How could you," Laura raved, crying and choking, quivering with the torment and fury which blurred within her. "How could you, my own mother! You slut! Whore! Bitch!" she repeated in spitting anger.
Larry Webb moved away from the mother like a flash. He groped for his jeans which he had thrown casually across an outstretched tree branch. "Honey...."
"Shut up," the girl snapped, turning on him. "You just shut up, weakling! Can't you keep your cock to yourself whenever a woman throws herself at you; can't I trust you when my back's turned?"
"But-" Marge was going to say that Larry had seduced her, only her daughter didn't give her time.
"Don't lie to me, Mother! I saw you! I saw the way it was, you begging him to fuck you, acting like a sex maniac, a nympho! I saw, and you can't tell me Larry was at fault. Why, he's almost half your age, you bitch!"
A low animal moan of anguish escaped from Marge's lips, and she tried to turn on her side and curl up in a ball to cover her shame. "Oh God, God in heaven ... no ... no...."
"Yes! I was standing right there and I saw it all!"
Tears flooded from Marge's eyes in an overflowing stream. Laura had caught them, seen Larry fuck her long and hard, seen her cum ... She was soul-sick and filled with self-loathing at the betrayal of her body, and the moral degeneracy which she had allowed to overcome her.
"Laura ... Laura...." she whimpered in supplication.
"You saw us, did you?" Larry asked, a slight smirk forming on his handsome young features. "You saw us-" and then began to laugh. "Christ, what a family! You were watching your mother ... and your mother was watching us this afternoon!"
What?" It was the daughter's turn to blink unsteadily. "You mean ... you mean that when we were ... when we...."
"That's right, when we were fucking up on the Chapel. You and your mother are really two of a kind, honest to God."
"Well, I don't care!" Laura said hotly, this new, lewd piece of information only insensing her more. "It only goes to show what kind of sick person you are, Mother. Watching Larry and me making love, and then ... seducing him the first chance you got. What's with you anyway? Did seeing us turn you on so much that you had to try some of his cock? Well?"
"Ohhhhh, God ... help me...." Marge moaned piteously, writhing as if in great pain.
"Take me away from here," Laura interrupted viciously to her boyfriend.
Larry, having gotten some semblance of control back, bewildered but not unhappy over the fact that Laura had misinterpreted the situation and was blaming her mother for it, had been dressing quickly. As he buckled his pants, there was an evil gloat festering inside his brain, one which had objectively gotten a great deal of cruel pleasure from this pitting of mother and daughter against each other, and satisfaction from the wedge he had unwittingly driven between them. What the hell, he didn't care about the mother, nor all that much about Laura if the truth be known ... he'd take full advantage of the situation, though.
"Please, Laura," her mother was crying out, "Please try to understand ... ,Oh, God, don't leave...."
"I understand what you did this afternoon, you voyeur. I understand that you ended up being screwed by my boyfriend! I understand that you're nothing but a fucking whore!"
"Oh, God, honey, you mustn't hate me, please don't hate me ... I ... I need help, not hate ... I couldn't control myself ... I-"
"Are you ready, Larry?" Laura interrupted coldly.
"Yeah, yeah sure, Laura."
"Then let's get out of here," the young girl said harshly. She turned to her trembling mother, huddled below her on the ground still salaciously naked and sweating from her orgiastic release. "As for you, mother ... get dressed! You look disgusting like that! Get dressed and get in your car and leave ... go back to Miami, go anywhere the hell you like. Because I don't ever want to see you again! You're no mother of mine! You're not fit to be one!"
Laura turned on her heel quickly, grabbed Larry by the arm, and began to walk quickly back toward the Village with him. She walked without looking back, but Larry didn't. He risked one quick look, saw the woman he had just mercilessly subjugated still lewdly splayed out on her bed of leaves, her face a collage of fear, shame, and self-debasement, and he grinned, turning back to his young girlfriend with a sadistic pleasure in the hurricane he had caused.
The hapless, trembling, utterly mortified young mother buried her face in her hands, rocking with uncontrollable sobs, knowing that her daughter had left ... perhaps for good. She moaned involuntarily, the desecration of her life total, and now, with the heat of her body no longer betraying her, she was torn by the torment of her despair. She looked down at her ravaged form, thinking that she was beyond all hope, all salvation, that she had even lost her daughter....
Maybe later she would find that this was all a terrible nightmare, which would go away when she woke ... but she knew, deep inside, that this wouldn't happen. Mentally she was crushed, physically she was bruised and sore, her genitals throbbing with a dull, persistent ache only slightly less than the ache in her heart.
Laura ... Laura ... Her mind molded itself to the sound of her beloved daughter's name, as it echoed in the tortured caverns of her mind. Her entire being was a vacuum, with only that thought occupying the shell of her voluptuous body.
Laura ... I love you ... Please God ... love me!!
CHAPTER FOUR
"Hey, where we going, kiddo?" Larry asked Laura as they walked quickly down the hill toward the village.
"I don't know and I don't care. I just want to get the hell out of this damn place!" she answered with unabated fury.
"Ahh, calm down, Laura, it's not the end of the world, you know."
Laura whirled to him, with fire in her eyes.
"Well, it may not be the end of the world to you! It may just be another good piece of tail to you, you animal! But it's pretty goddamned important to me!"
"Hey, I thought you still loved me," Larry said in an injured tone. "I thought you'd forgiven me."
"Well ... I have. I guess." Laura said reluctantly.
"Look, it was all your mother's doing, just like you said," Larry lied. "She came down to the pool while I was getting dressed. She paraded around and played with my cock and Christ, honey, you know what that does to me." A whine crept into his voice as he tried to worm his way back into the girl's good graces.
"Yeah, makes you fuck," Laura said, still angry.
"Well, sure. It makes me fuck. I'm a man, ain't I?"
They had reached the Village by this time, and Laura slumped against a tree dejectedly.
"Hell, I don't know what to do, or what to think, or anything," she said, a note of depression in her voice. "God, it's like the whole world has just been pulled out from under me." Larry smiled to himself as he sensed the utter helplessness of the beautiful young girl. He felt safe now, amazed but relieved at Laura's blindness to his instigating role in the seduction of her mother. And it was only her irrational love for him that had closed her eyes to the truth, he knew. So he didn't love her, so what? His soul was as guilt free as a newborn babe's.
"Listen, kiddo," he said soothingly, "why don't we go on up to Spencer's cabin. Maybe we can talk to him, and he'll be able to talk you out of it. You know, be an objective ear." Larry secretly relished the chance of telling Spencer that he had gotten to Laura's mother before his friend had even had a chance.
"Yeah ... I guess maybe that would help some," Laura admitted. "I guess I really do need to get it out of me."
Larry grabbed her arm, and turned her down a small path to their left, which twisted and turned down towards Spencer's cabin. Reaching it, they knocked, and then walked in. The place was empty.
"Oh, that's right," Laura remembered, "Spencer is up at the meeting hall. I left him up there when I went down to the pool."
"Well, we can wait for him," Larry said, throwing himself down on the double mattress which lay in one corner of the room. "Come on over here," he added, patting the mattress beside him.
Laura moved to her muscular boyfriend, and looked down on him.
"You know, if I didn't love you so much, I'd hate you, you bastard." She smiled gently, and let him draw her down on the mattress. She kissed him passionately, and he felt his recently satiated cock stir unbelievably again at her tantalizing closeness. He reached a hand around behind her, pulled her light blouse from her loosely fitting skirt, and teased a hand along the ridge of her spine.
"Oh, come on, Larry ... not now," she said, breaking off her kiss and attempting to pull away from him.
"What do you mean, not now," he echoed, refusing to release his strong grip on her voluptuous body.
"I mean after what's just happened ... you know," she answered.
"Then was then, kiddo, and now is now. But of course, if you don't want me to do this...." He sneaked his hand further up her back, caressing her seductively. " ... and if this doesn't feel good to you...." He brought his other hand up and rubbed her braless breast sensuously through the light blouse. " ... and if you really don't want me to do this...." He drew her to him and buried a teasing kiss on her soft neck and under her chin. " ... then I'll stop. I really will."
"Goddamn it," Laura laughed, as he continued his maddening caresses, "stop it! You know I can't take that!"
"Mmmmmm...." was his only answer.
Laura threw her weight against him, pushing him down under her onto the mattress, covering him with her slender body. She laughed, and worked her hand up between their bodies to his crotch, and began kneading his semi-aroused penis forcefully.
"All right, big boy," she whispered with mock sexiness in his ear, "how do you like that, huh? Turnabout is fair play, you know."
Larry laughed a throaty laugh, and rolled her off him to the mattress, his swelling cock already pressing painfully against his tight blue jeans.
He slid his hand up under her skirt and along the soft, warm flesh of her inner thigh and she merely giggled, no longer trying to stop him. With thumb and forefinger thrust under the narrow crotchband of her panties, he slowly spread apart the soft, fleshy pussy-lips of her moist, hair-fringed cunt. Laura lay back, holding her breath, offering no more than token resistance to his hands coursing over her body. The exquisite feeling of air rushing over the rising bud of her clitoris rippled through her now jelly-like muscles and out into the nipples of her excitedly throbbing breasts, and her thighs relaxed and parted loosely as she rolled toward Larry with a low surrendering moan.
Her hand moved across his pants, opened his fly, and clasped his heavy, lust-thickened cock. Her fingers, of their own volition, pushed his jockey shorts aside and brought the hard, fleshy rod out of its prison, out until it stood up menacingly and erect, her small fingers wrapping themselves lovingly around it.
"Ahhh, that's it, baby," Larry grunted. He undid his belt and top trouser button, and allowed Laura to slide his pants down, and then his shorts, and now he was lying naked on the mattress. She stroked and caressed his throbbing cock, manipulating the long foreskin up and down over the angry red coronal rim, then she slid her hand down his long shaft to its base and then below, to reverently cup and squeeze his bloated testicles, holding them with inherent affection, then trailing back up to pinch at the beautifully formed pole with tiny, nipping pressures. Her hips ground of their own volition down against the mattress and she heard her own purring, animal-like sounds emitting softly from between her teeth.
Then, suddenly, a picture of her mother lying moaning under the manipulations of this same man, her boyfriend, crashed into her thoughts, and she paused, disconcerted by this unpleasant vision.
"Oh, baby ... don't stop ... don't stop!" Larry moaned.
She resumed her caressing of his magnificent cock, but her mind was on her mother. She asked herself wildly how she could be so sexually aroused, having seen Larry fuck her mother only twenty minutes before. She tried to sort out her confusion, but then her thoughts were drawn irresistibly back to the feel of Larry's huge, jerking penis, swelling unbelievably now under her fascinated gaze. She couldn't believe it, and yet it was true. She couldn't keep from touching his incredibly massive shaft, even though that shaft had so recently skewered her own mother's wetly writhing cunt, right before her very eyes!
What is happening to me? she thought confusedly. I must be going mad! But I can't stop myself ... I want to touch his cock! Even now! I have to touch it ... oooh, God!
Larry lay on his back, not touching her now, luxuriating in the submission that had fully overtaken the girl. She was kissing his neck, his cheek, his ears and eyes and lips, her hot, wet, little tongue licking at him wildly ... not knowing or caring any longer what spell had come over her, her glazed mind filled only with the sight of his hugely throbbing cock.
Laura stood up from the mattress, not caring that the beady, groveling eyes of the boy who had taken her mother so wildly this very same afternoon were on her. She stepped out of her skirt and pulled off her skimpy blouse, and then continued as if prodded by some unseen force. Her swollen young breasts seemed to beg for touching; she paused and smoothed her hands carefully over them, touching her ruby nipples in guarded wonderment. Ohhh, that felt so good; she took a deep breath, and then rolled down her flimsy wet panties and allowed her hands to slowly travel back up her long slim legs and thighs and touch delicately at the lining of her soft-edged vagina.
Larry was mesmerized as always with the breathtaking loveliness of the young blonde. Her sleek, firm body was an entrancing combination of swelling breasts and thighs, and he gaped at the honey-covered silken curls that she was exploring gently with her fingers now at the junction of her slightly spread thighs. The thin, pink, hair-lined slit running the full length of her nakedly displayed pussy caused his mouth to water, and his tongue licked his rubbery, thick lips with anticipation.
"Get down between my legs," Larry ordered, confident now of the aroused girl's willingness to do anything he said, watching her soft young breasts dance alluringly and her voluptuously rounded buttocks sway obscenely as she crawled on all fours to his command, her beautiful long blonde tresses pouring down over her shoulders like a cascading waterfall. "Now lick my cock, baby. Put my cock in your mouth and suck...."
She did, even though this had been one of the things she had never done to him before; making him cum with her hand was one thing-but kissing a man on his penis was something only perverts did, only sick people! But I must be sick ... because I can't help myself ... I must be as sick as Mother ... I want to suck his cock, just like he wants ... dear God....
Laura lavished Larry's quivering shaft with her warm, wet tongue, brushing and grazing from its base along its wide underside up to its tongue, brushing and grazing from its base along its wide underside to its hardened cock-head, washing, playing, kissing with long hungry strokes ... then back down to its base and to the black-haired pubic growth and then lower, down around his distended, lust-bloated sac of testicles, hot from their load of sperm.
"Ohhh, I love it! I love it!
Her first taste of her boyfriend's swollen cock instigated wild tremors of delight in her young body, and she uncontrollably balanced herself on one arm while she reached back with her other and slowly, tenderly felt her breasts and nipples, belly and thighs. Ohhh ... Laura was growing wild with frenzy, her stomach and vagina churning now with a spasming need that she had never dreamed existed and which was driving her to the point of orgasmic madness.
God ... she loved this! Quickly she trailed her tongue back over Larry's testicles and along the heavy shaft to its throbbing head, and with a tiny groan, slipped her lips wetly down over it. God! She wanted to suck his lewd sperm far into her throat and belly!
She began to suck and lick in earnest now, and though a small shudder of resistance at what she had allowed herself to do passed through her momentarily, she realized that she loved the taste of Larry's cock. She felt the short, wiry hair of his loins against her chin and lips, his testicles sweeping against her, and as greater sensations of abandoned ecstasy grew to burn her vagina still hotter, nothing mattered but the sweet agony of the lewd desires which began to ripple through her naked flesh.
Laura didn't hear the door to the cabin open quietly, and didn't notice the figure which slipped quickly inside and closed the door behind. But Larry opened his eyes to discover his friend, Spencer, standing in fascination as he watched Laura's naked form crouched salaciously over the huge, rock-hard cock reaching up into her wetly caverned mouth. He grinned lewdly, and came over to where Laura strained and pumped to milk her boyfriend's aching balls of their hotly building sperm and in doing so quench the raging fire of lust consuming her insides. The sight of his friend's hard shaft of male flesh absorbed between the lips of the girl's widely-ovaled lips increased his aroused fascination a thousandfold, and he hissed out his breath as he saw Laura take her hand that she had been running over her own body and use it to massage the soft resilient skin of Larry's testicles, then tantalizingly stroke the base of his shaft as she continued to suck rhythmically up and down.
Larry looked up to see his friend right above them, and read the unmistakable lust written all over his face. What the hell, he said to himself, Laura's so hot now, she won't mind if somebody else joins in. He looked at Spencer, and nodded to him. He laughed as he saw the expression of surprise, and then, uncontrollably lust crease the bearded face of his friend.
"Come on, gracious leader, join in," he said.
Laura drew her mouth away from Larry's cock long enough to see who stood above her, but then Larry wrenched her head back around brutally.
"Suck, kiddo, keep sucking me. Our friend is just going to make things a little bit better for you!"
Laura's mind reeled in disbelief, and yet she sensed a quick shock of excitement course through her unprotected loins at the same time. Could it be possible that she could want Spencer too ... at the same time as Larry? Had she sunk so low?
Quickly Spencer shed his clothing, and then stood with his long, jutting cock throbbing out in front of him like a wild stallion. He grabbed Laura's flailing white buttocks and leaned down over her back, thrusting his penis roughly up against the nakedly defenseless crevice of her smooth ass cheeks. The narrowly expanded cunt slit was visibly throbbing with its lips parted anxiously, its wet pink lips held together by the squirming of her thighs up against his hungry loins.
Laura could not see the face hovering over her buttocks but her passion-filled mind was aware of her friend behind her-aware of what he wanted to do to her while she was so desperately sucking Larry's penis in her mouth. She felt the full length of her open vaginal slit palpitate anxiously, greedily ... Dear God! This can't be me! I'm going to be fucked by both guys ... and I want that....
Everything which had ever meant anything to the poor, lust-enflamed girl was torn asunder as she lay in crippled defeat between the two boys. What she was allowing to be done to her was the absolute opposite of everything she had stood for, everything she had believed in ... everything which had prompted her to chastise her mother ... and yet there was no turning back. She had to have the two hardened male cocks fucking into her at the same time had to-had to....
Oh God, I'm sick ... sick ... but I can't help it ... can't help it!
She flexed her aching cunt muscles together in a last-ditch attempt to evade the dual ravishment, but neither that nor her mental denials of her sanity helped to ward off the lust-incited Spencer. Her brain was a maze of distorted thoughts, and she couldn't apply what thinking capacities she had to but what was being shoved up into her vagina-Spencer's hugely invading cudgel of male flesh. The throb of her soft inner flesh seemed to incite his large, alien penis even more, and it plowed its way deeper into her vainly resisting passage. She felt the walls of her cringing pussy clasp around it like a glove, and she sensed its very fleshy ridge as her nerve ends transmitted enormous pleasures.
Dear God! This isn't happening! her mind kept repeating over and over, but she knew it was, and the pungent odors of Larry's cock slithering lewdly in and out of her tightly ovaled lips stung her flared nostrils and she began to insanely run her tongue faster over his pumping shaft and bulging head. She may be sick, she thought crazily, but she didn't want this to stop! Her cock-spread cunt contracted involuntarily as the lascivious thought raced out of control through her lust fogged mind.
Spencer drew the girl harder to his loins by grasping her ivory lips with his clawing fingers and jerking her backward. He felt her moist, slippery cunt hole flower open more to receive his cock to greater and greater depths. The cords on her neck and her lips around Larry's penis were hard and tense as she writhed beneath the two monstrous cocks which skewered her naked young body cruelly between them.
"Now, baby," Larry hissed down at her, "beg for it. Beg like I make you do ... only beg for both of us."
"Mmmmmm," Laura mewled, her mouth still taut around his relentlessly drubbing penis.
"Ohhh, yes ... yes...." Her words were muffled and indistinct, but deeply felt, for all control of her body was gone.
"Beg me to cum in your mouth, baby," he commanded, continuing to grind his cock into her wetly quivering throat.
"Ohhhh, yes ... fuck me. R-ram your cock in my cunt, Spencer, and yes, darling Larry, cum in my mouth!" she babbled, the thought of her own lips spewing out those lewd desires for the first time in her life sending new lascivious thrills reeling through her. She was hopelessly impaled between Spencer's hard driving cock in her vagina and Larry's penis shoved tightly up into her mouth, and now, moaning and mewling between them, she began to twist and squirm wantonly under the double ravishment and thrust up against both men more urgently. Her small white teeth nibbled her boyfriend's cock as it surged with increasing tempo into her hungrily sucking mouth, and she clenched her thighs in a warm milking action against the pillaging cock methodically screwing her warm, wet cuntal channel.
The ecstasy of the moment rose within Laura as she tried to suck with the massive cock fucking her from behind, and as it slammed harder and harder into her cunt, the lust-hardened shaft caressing the smooth wet walls of her vagina, the blunt tip would batter her sensitive cervix and pummel it hard. The room was lighting up in strange colors for the girl, blinding and flashing and mingling with the electrifying shocks that were shooting through her body to the seeming depths of her very being.
Larry Webb felt the softness of her tongue swirling around the apex of his penis and flicking magically all around his shaft, and he flexed his buttocks, watching the girl's blonde head bob lewdly up and down as she worked her mouth around the hammering, still swelling cock. It was a masterful sight, he thought, watching it, though he wondered why she didn't choke. Great whirls of lust impassioned heat were building deep in the sac of his testicles, and he could see tiny rivulets of perspiration rolling in thin droplets from Laura's firm, white skinned body, as she bucked between him and his friend like a demon driven mad.
Suddenly Spencer groaned aloud and wailed: "Jesus! Fuck harder! Fuck back, Laura, I'm about ready to blow my balls! Ohhh ... fuck back! Fuck back!"
Laura responded immediately, wallowing obscenely in her pleasurable but debasing subjugation, raising her quivering buttocks up against the man's thickly expanding cock, driving it back inside her, deep up into her naked belly, sending vibrations of lewd delight coursing through her laboring young body. She was completely helpless to stop herself, and she knew it, and swam in the carnal knowledge ... she was punishing herself, openly feeling she deserved this painful fucking, for her loins were on fire more than ever, and she was forced to feed her seething hunger with all of the abandonment of the most common slut in history. She deserved this, deserved this and more ... yes, yes ... more! More!
"Suck me harder!" Larry screamed at her, and in a wild, maniacal need for fulfillment, Laura sucked his lust-hardened penis like a wanton whore, and the hotly pummeling instrument disappeared into a strange, lengthening fusion with her face as Larry fucked with hollowing buttocks, sinking his penis far into the girl's mouth until his wiry pubic hair brushed the tip of her nose. His testicles danced lewdly, slapping in unison with his pounding thrusts hard against her upraised chin. Then, his climax rolling out of his balls like a thundercloud out of the sky, Larry suddenly jerked his cock from her sucking lips and held the throbbing red shaft in his hands about two inches away from her ovaled pink mouth.
"Oh, no, Larry ... please, I want it! I must have it!" pleaded the stricken girl, groaning with the agonizing and overpowering fire of unfulfilled lust fanning out of control in her pulsating cunt, and she tried to pull him to her, her mouth gaping obscenely at his wildly jumping cock.
But before she could close her widely ovaled lips over his cock again, it began to spew hot, sticky cum directly into the dark searching cavern of her mouth, and the thick, quick spurts streamed milk-like from the swollen cock-head, filling her waiting mouth to the brim. She swallowed voraciously, trying not to loose a drop of the hot, lust-inciting fluid as her Adam's apple bobbed up and down, rapidly attempting to keep up with the wildly ejaculating cock squirting its white hot, lewd male cum straight into her face.
And behind the wantonly swallowing young girl, Spencer could feel the cum boiling inside his own lust-heated balls as they beat wildly against Laura's upturned ass-cheeks. He grunted savagely and quickened his stroke, fucking hard and deep until his cock bored far up into the hidden recesses of her quivering womb.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" Laura screamed to him. She wasn't ashamed because she was enjoying it more than she had ever enjoyed fucking before. Nothing mattered to her now but the delicious waves of stormy feeling deep in her cunt as Spencer's thickly swollen cock drove in and out of her clutching vagina, until the blood-engorged head collided with her cervix deep inside with every powerful, pile driving stroke.
Suddenly, she shivered under him.
"Oh, God!" she cried, "Yes, yesss, I'm cummmiiinnng ... oh, God, I'm cummiiinnnng, nowwwww!" With a deep throated groan, her body stiffened and began vibrating uncontrollably, wet white cum oozing from the throbbing passage and drowning Spencer's hugely impaling member with its sticky warmth.
The pounding man above her then went berserk as she grunted out her climax against his heated loins, her body jerking spasmodically up against him. His harshly kneading hands pulled the widespread cheeks of her trembling buttocks hard up against his grinding pelvis and he rammed his exploding cock all the way to the hilt into the depths of her wildly sucking cunt.
Laura thought her insides were about to split as she felt the head of the deep sunk cock flex and flare into a hugeness that threatened to tear into her belly. Then, suddenly, he erupted, his thick hot liquid shooting deep up into her widely stretched womb, mixing deliciously with the moisture of her own sensuality. Her mind whirled in a seemingly endless orgasm as the burning, powerful squirts surged deep inside her, filling her to overflowing with its hot sticky whiteness. The hot, drenched walls of her cunt clasped and unclasped around it, working and sucking at his penis as though trying to milk him dry. Cum juice flowed wetly out around his still driving cock, flooding wetly over his balls and the base of his cock as he fucked relentlessly up into her. Dazzling flashes of light filled her head as she breathed in short, desperate gasps, their mingled fluids flowing in unchecked spurts down between her writhing legs. Reaching frantically back between her thighs with both hands to milk desperately at his lewdly dancing balls, she felt the giant cock still continuing to throb and flex, jerking its completion in hot white spurts, filling her womb and further soaking the cum-drenched pussy hair it was buried in.
"Oh, God, don't stop, don't ever stop," she pleaded dazedly. The starving inner folds of her cunt sucked fiercely at the lurching cock until it finally gave one last spasmodic jerk and lay limp inside her nakedly quivering belly.
The panting man collapsed exhaustedly across her body, feeling her insides still gushing forth around his rapidly deflating penis. At last, she too gave a final jerk and trembled to stillness. Her firm, perfectly sculpted body felt drained of everything, her belly filled to the bursting point with their hot sticky white male cum.
Spencer lay still for a moment, trying to recover Ms strength, then slowly pulled his softened cock out of her totally sated cunt. He could see the soaking wet slit of her sex glistening wetly, the insides of her thighs heavily smeared with the white sticky moisture that dripped in tiny rivulets out of her vagina to form a moist, lewd pool beneath her.
"Ahhhh," he murmured. "Not bad, not bad."
"It'll get better," Larry said, grinning lewdly. "You know how beginners are. Lots of enthusiasm but lacking discipline. A few more sessions like this though, and she'll come around."
The repulsive horror of her lover's words shot through Laura's satiated euphoria like a spasm of electricity. Beginners ... a few more sessions ... what the hell is he talking about?
"What do you mean ... I'll come around?" she managed to say through her constricted throat.
"Just what I said, kiddo. Now that you're initiated into the finer pleasures of the old gang-bang, we'll be doing it more often, you know? I suspect old Spencer isn't going to be content with just this once, are you buddy?"
Spencer grinned at her obscenely, leaving no doubt as to his answer.
"You ... you're crazy, both of you!" she screamed at them, suddenly afraid of what her boyfriend was implying. "I won't ... ever again ... this was perverted, unnatural ... you can't make me!"
Larry leered up at her, confident of his power over the frail young girl.
"You'll do anything I want you to do, Laura, starting from now. And I won't have to make you do it ... because I can tell right now you're going to love every minute of it."
Laura stared with newfound horror at the man she suddenly realized had somehow tricked her into becoming his sexual slave, and now, in the wake of their played out passions and her deep set remorse, she was able to gain a modicum of control over her senses, at least momentarily. In that second of clarity, she saw many things in a blinding new light. She slowly dragged herself to her feet, knowing that she had to get out of his horrible cabin, out into the sane, clean world again if she was ever going to break the chains of her betrayed body. Larry's plans for her were so horrid that she bit her lower lip in self-revulsion to the point where she drew blood, his filthy words sending a wave of nausea coursing through her.
Dear God ... forgive me ... I lost control of myself, and I've almost become an addict to sex ... I must get out....
She had never felt so alone in her life. She saw now that her lashing hatred, her irrational accusations toward her mother weren't justified. Her mother's words, begging forgiveness, understanding and love filtered through her dazed mind, and Laura realized that what had happened here, to her, had happened more or less the same way back at the pool. Her mother had fallen prey to Larry Webb, and he was unfit for anybody's love and affection or loyalities. He was incarnately evil....
She was caught up in his abominable trip, and while still confused as to how or why, she knew that she had to get out of his web here, she had to talk to her mother and tell her that she had grown up and seen the truth, and that she was the one who wanted to beg forgiveness and love and understanding. And maybe, just maybe, her mother would accept her, used and debauched as she was, and the two of them could make some effort to face life together.
She scooped up her clothing, preparatory to putting them on. .
"Hey, baby," Spencer said. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Leaving," she said sullenly.
"Aw, for Christ's sake," Larry grumbled. "Stick around, Laura. I'll fuck you in a little while, soon's I get my cock up again."
It snapped, then, the spontaneous bursting in her head that crashed reality down over her with a shattering force. She turned toward the door quickly, feeling the tears begin to fill her eyes, but Larry reached out and caught her ankle, holding her fast in his iron grip.
"Listen, what's the matter? I told you to stay here! Didn't you hear me?"
Laura whirled to him, her sudden hatred for him making her rash in her accusation.
"You fucking bastard! You're both a pair of slimy, perverted bastards! I'm not going to play your sick games, do you understand? I'm not!!!!" With a little hysterical cry, Laura wrenched her foot from Larry's grasp, stumbled as she broke loose, and spilled her clothes over the cabin floor. Larry was getting up hurriedly behind her, and she rushed to the door of the cabin in a sudden panic. She had to get out of there!
"Come back here, you little bitch!" Larry yelled at her, but she didn't stop. She threw open the door and raced out into the early evening twilight, completely naked, and ran as quickly as she could through the trees, stumbling, tripping, falling against trees and limbs in her blind attempt to escape this tiny circle of hell.
"Goddman, she sure is fast!" mused Spencer as he watched the retreating form of the naked girl disappear in the fading light. "Look at those tits jump up and down!"
Larry's face was darkened with anger, and he spat out the words. "Serve her fucking right if some bobcat ate her up, the fucking bitch!" He turned back into the cabin. "Well, hell-let her go. I'm sure not going running after her like this with my cock and balls flapping around in the breeze. To hell with her."
"Well, what'll we do, Larry boy?"
"Forget her, the little tit. I shouldn't ever have wasted my time on her in the first place. She's probably found her mother and they're both halfway to Miami by now."
"Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible, Larry."
Larry turned and saw Spencer go to his coveralls, reach into the pocket, pull out a set of keys and dangle them before his eyes.
"These just happened to be sitting in the ignition of a little old Ford Falcon up by the meeting hall, so I took them for safe keeping. You know, save a teenager from becoming a car thief," he grinned.
"Well, well, well," Larry laughed loudly. "It looks like we may be blessed with the Morgan's company, mother and daughter, for some little time then."
"Precisely, Larry my boy, precisely," Spencer chuckled, and tossed the keys to his friend with a wickedly obscene laugh.
CHAPTER FIVE
Marge Morgan looked once again at her watch and then rose from the cot in Laura's cabin and went to the door to peer out into the half-darkness of the cool, moonlight night. The trees around the cabin were illuminated by an eerie, almost iridescent glow. Their branches alternately shadowed and exposed to the impassive gaze of the full moon high above. The heat of the day had slipped away quietly to be replaced by a gentle breeze that rustled through the tree limbs like so many whispering voices, sometimes soothing but more often mocking the young mother who stood silhouetted in the doorway of the cabin.
Marge closed the door softly and began to pace nervously up and down the room's short length. She walked a little stiffly, her unaccustomed loins still sore from Larry's lovemaking that afternoon at the pool. But her mind was not on the shame she had been feeling all evening as a result of the terrible breach of her sexual defenses. It was centered instead on a growing worry about her young daughter, Laura.
Marge looked at her watch once again but it was only a few minutes later than when she'd last looked at it. She crossed to the cot and sat nervously, trying desperately to calm her fears. Her soul still ached from the violence of Laura's words to her that afternoon, words that had torn her far more than the mere physical humiliation she had undergone with her daughter's boyfriend. She prayed now that Laura had only been gripped by a momentary disgust for her mother-a disgust that Marge herself shared-and that this horribly unfortunate incident would not destroy their relationship completely.
And now, at 9:30 at night, even that was not the uppermost concern in Marge's mind. Her first worry now was that her daughter had not come back to her cabin even though Marge had seen Larry Webb earlier that evening from a distance going into the main meeting hall. If Laura was not with him, where was she?
The distraught young mother had been almost prostrate with worry since that time, her mind flying alternately between concern for her daughter and revolting and yet strangely exciting visions of her debasement that afternoon. She had paced the cramped little cabin or had sat anxiously waiting on the edge of the cot for almost two hours and her nerves had reached the snapping point.
Looking at her watch once again, Marge stood up and crossed to the window. What should I do, she asked herself desperately, who can I turn to? I need help ... God ... I can't handle this all by myself! Suddenly, she remembered the friendly man she had met that day on the steps of the meeting hall. What was his name? She couldn't even remember, and it had only been a few short hours before. She remembered his great flowing beard, his soiled coveralls, his friendly tone of voice ... Spencer, that's it, she suddenly recalled, maybe he could help me. He seemed to be some kind of a leader around the commune, she thought so perhaps he might have some influence with her innocent young daughter; and anyway, somebody should be warned about that terrible Larry Webb.
Quickly, Marge extinguished the light in Laura's cabin and rushed out into the cool moonlit night. She almost ran towards the meeting hall and finally came into the main clearing of the commune. She saw a group of people lounging on the steps of the hall, made sure Larry Webb was not among them and then approached slowly.
"Excuse me, can any of you tell me where I might find Spencer?" she asked hesitantly, suddenly aware of a pungent aroma that filled the air around them and was wafted to her by the gentle breeze. She saw the hand-rolled cigarette being passed around the circle of young people and realized with a start that it must be marijuana.
"Uhhh ... yeah," said a blond, long-haired boy who lay enfolded between the two legs of the young girl sitting above him, "Yeah, I think he's down in his cabin."
"Could you tell me where that is?" Marge asked.
"Sure," said the heavy-lidded girl above him. "It's ... uhhh ... it's down that path there, first door on your right." She giggled inexplicably.
"Thank you very much," Marge said, turning toward the path the girl had indicated.
"Sure, Mom, sure," the young girl said, and the group began to snigger softly as Marge walked away.
She didn't hear them though, but strode purposefully down towards Spencer's cabin, turning in at the first little path she saw running to her right. She saw some lights through the trees and continued until she stood, hesitantly, before Spencer's front door. Then, girding up her courage, she knocked resolutely on the roughly-hewn oak timbers. There was no immediate answer, and she knocked again. After a pause, she heard a soft voice reach out to her from inside the cabin.
"It's open," the voice said, and nothing more.
She slowly pulled the latch on the door and stepped softly into the room. It was draped with rugs and old carpets on all the walls and except for a large mattress lying on the floor in the corner and a few crates and wooden boxes, was bare. She saw Spencer sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, staring with half-closed eyes at the flame of a stubby candle that was fixed with its own wax directly on the wooden floor.
She stood quietly, thinking she was disturbing him, but then thought that perhaps he wasn't even aware of her presence. She hesitated and then spoke to him.
"Spencer?"
He didn't answer.
"Spencer, I've got to talk to you about something very important."
Finally, Spencer slowly raised his eyes to her, took a moment to recognize her, and then smiled a far away smile.
"Hello, Marge. Sit down. I've been expecting you."
Marge looked for a chair, found none and then lowered herself to the floor across the candle from him.
"You've been expecting me?" she asked, wondering apprehensively if he knew about Laura and Larry and the whole situation.
"Yes, I have. Would you like something to drink?"
Marge's throat felt suddenly very dry, and she realized she hadn't had a drink all day. She accepted his offer gratefully and watched as he moved to one of the little crates beside his mattress.
"Why have you been expecting me?" she asked, still confused.
"Well ... Larry and Laura were here earlier, and we talked about what had happened." Spencer watched as Marge's eyes grew wide with fear. "Oh, there's nothing to worry about, Marge. I'm used to that kind of thing. I'm sort of a spiritual adviser around her, you know; people often come to me with their problems. But you can be sure that I'll keep your secret in strictest confidence." The bearded man finished, pouring two stiff drinks of vodka, neglecting to add that Larry had only told him while bragging of his seduction of Laura's mother, after they had both taken Laura violently that same evening.
"Here, drink this. It'll steady your nerves."
Marge took the glass from him and stared at the clear liquid.
"What is it?" she asked hesitantly.
"Just vodka," he replied. "I'm afraid that's all I have. I hope it's all right."
"It's fine, Spencer. Thank you." Marge took a gulp of the drink and coughed as its fire attacked her parched throat. "Whew, that is strong stuff."
Spencer smiled and sat down again on the floor, closer to her this time.
"Would you like to talk about what's happened?" he said gently, hardly able to keep his eyes from boring under the light dress she was wearing which was inched up over her soft, ivory thighs as she sat clasping her drink with both hands.
"No ... no, I don't think so, Spencer. That's very nice of you," Marge said kindly, more at ease now with the kind and understanding man, "but I didn't come for that. I just came to ask you to help me get my daughter back ... I mean, to help me convince Laura that she should come back to Miami with me. Right away."
"But, why, Marge? She seems perfectly happy here."
"No, she isn't-she couldn't be! She's all mixed up with this Larry Webb, and he's evil, Spencer, he's a horribly evil influence on her, you know that."
"Well," Spencer said quietly, "she seems to be content with him, at least when they were here this afternoon."
"But she's so young, Spencer! She's blinded by her love for this awful man so she can't see what kind of a danger he is for her!"
"Oh, no, I think you're exaggerating a little, Marge."
"No, I'm not! He raped me this afternoon ... raped me ... right after he'd ... he'd ... right after he'd been with Laura," Marge stammered. "He doesn't love her, I know that. He's just using her!"
Spencer looked at her impassively, trying to hide the excitement that was beginning to grow in him as he realized that this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss.
"I don't know what to say, Marge. Larry and Laura seemed to agree that ... now you mustn't be angry, I'm just telling you what they said ... that you hadn't been raped at all. In fact, from what I understand from them, it was you who were the aggressor."
"That's not true!" Marge screamed. "He's lying, and Laura believes him! Oh, my God, don't you see ...?"
Spencer quickly moved to the hysterical young mother and put his hand on her trembling shoulder soothingly.
"Now calm down, Marge," he crooned, "getting all upset isn't going to help matters. Take it easy ... relax ... come on now...."
"How can I relax when my own daughter believes those terrible things about me! God, Spencer, she's all I have ... and I'm losing her ... dear God ... I'm losing her!"
Spencer had moved across the floor until he was sitting right next to the quivering woman, his whole arm now encircling her shoulders, his nostrils filled with the tantalizing odor of her unbelievably sensuous body. He felt his dormant cock wake suddenly as the lovely, shaking mother collapsed against his chest, overcome with worry and grief. He tried, without much success, to still the mounting arousal that tingled his large body mercilessly.
"Shhh ... Shhhh...." he whispered, "Marge, come on now ... if you face the truth, it will be easier in the long run. Admit that you enjoyed your experience with Larry this afternoon. From what Laura has told us in the past, I gather that you haven't really allowed yourself much sexual activity in the past few years. So it isn't shameful that you couldn't control yourself this afternoon. That's perfectly normal."
Marge's mind reeled under the truth of his words. She had enjoyed it. Even though she hadn't wanted it, she had enjoyed it!
"Nooo ... he forced it ... I didn't mean to...."
"Of course you didn't, Marge ... of course you didn't. But you did enjoy it, now, didn't you?"
"Yes!" Marge admitted through clenched teeth, "I did enjoy it! And that is the worst part of it all!"
"But it's not, Marge, it's not. Don't you see, it's perfectly normal? The body is a temple, Marge, but it is a temple that must not be allowed to decay, don't you see? You didn't betray your body this afternoon; you have been betraying it by trying to hide it behind shame and fear. It had to break loose sometime, and it did this afternoon. You should be happy, not upset."
As Spencer talked, his right hand came to rest on Marge's quivering thigh, at first as though he were emphasizing what he was saying, but then remained, lightly caressing the smooth fabric of her skirt over her naked flesh. She was hardly aware of his touch, concentrating only on his words and the possible truth of them.
"I ... I don't know ... I just don't know...." she moaned.
"I'm right, dear lady, you know I'm right." Spencer's voice was beginning to take on an unmistakably lusting edge which he could no longer hide. His hand moved more quickly over her thigh until, with a tingle that raced out of control up his spine, it came into contact with her naked flesh. "You must learn to let yourself go ... let yourself go ... relax ... and be free, Marge, be free. You have a beautiful body, you must use it ... use it well ... share it ... "
Marge came out of her reverie with a jolt, felt Spencer's hand working its lewd way around into the warm flesh of her inner thigh, his other hand beginning to massage her neck suggestively, and spun away from him on the floor.
"What do you think you're doing!" she screamed at him in sudden fear, pulling her dress down frantically over her legs. "What are you...."
"I'll tell you what I'm doing, little Venus," Spencer crooned, not even attempting now to hide the look of sheer animal lust that had twisted his previously gentle face into some obscene parody of Jekyll and Hyde. "I'm simply appreciating an incredibly beautiful body, a temple, you know, like I said ... I see the fantastic temple of your body, sweet lady, and I plan to worship it. Now you don't mind a little worship, do you?"
He was crouched on the balls of his feet now, leaning out toward her with an evil grin on his leering face. With a sudden panic rising like a flood in her body, Marge felt her arm swing out wildly and felt the sharp sting in her palm as her hand caught him under the chin, knocking him off balance and onto his side on the floor. Quickly, he jumped to his feet, standing over her threateningly, rubbing the place on his jaw where she'd hit him.
"You fucking little bitch, you're going to pay for that! You're going to beg me to fuck you before I'm through." He stood above her huddled form, glaring down at her with rage burning in his eyes. Then, insanely, his face twisted itself into a sweet, sick smile. "That was not very nice of you, Marge. No, not very nice at all. We practice non-violence here on the commune, and that was very violent of you. Yes, it was, very violent."
Marge crawled away from him on the floor, staring at him as the terrifying transition came over his face. He must be mad!
"Now ... now you leave me alone! Do you hear?"
"No, sweet thing, I don't hear. My ears are filled with the music of your delicious body, and I'm deaf to anything else." A grin played on his face as he watched with sadistic pleasure the frightened young woman on the floor.
"I'm leaving ... I'm getting out of here ... don't ... don't try to stop me," Marge stammered, not daring to move a muscle.
"No, you're not, Marge. Shall I tell you why?" He reached into the pocket of his coveralls and pulled a ring of keys, dangling them before her horrified gaze. "You're not leaving because you have no place to go. You recognize these?"
Marge's mind reeled as she realized he was holding the keys to her car. "Please...." she begged, "please give them to me...."
"Of course, Marge, of course. You can have them. But this is a capitalistic world we live in so I'm afraid you're going to have to pay for them."
Marge felt the strength leave her body as he interpreted his obscene implication, and she collapsed on the floor with her head in her hands, sobbing unrestrainedly. She was trapped! Hopelessly ensnared by the evilly grinning man standing above her. She didn't even move as she sensed him moving closer to her and crouching down over her prostrate body. A tremor rippled over her as she felt his hand move suddenly to her flat, tense stomach then inch around her waist as he came closer to her until his face was mere inches from her own.
"Stop! Please ... stop it!" she pleaded, writhing from his grasp unsteadily. "Please ... let me go...."
But Spencer didn't answer, and she felt his hands grab her slender waist again, and the strength of his powerful arms draw her tightly against him, his one hand moving down to encompass the full, rounded spheres of her buttocks while the other one lumped against the small of her back. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks in the shame of his coarse hand moving intimately over her tensed and fear-stricken body.
"S-stop! Stop it, do you hear? I'll scream for help!" she tried desperately.
"You little bitch! You make one sound, and I'll beat you within an inch of your life!" he spat at her in warning, clutching the soft resilient flesh of one buttock in his hand brutally. "Understand?"
"Oh ... oh, my God!" she whimpered, her sickened, pain-filled and horrified brain racing madly in frantic circles. He's crazy ... crazy ... what am I going to do?
Once more, she struggled in his arms, trying to free herself, but she was helpless against his might, and slowly he lowered his head until his wet, bloodless lips completely smothered her soft, trembling mouth, his tongue smashing lustfully between her lips and against her small, white teeth. He held her close, his big hands hot and moving as they pressed into the round, full flesh of her buttocks to force her pelvis tighter against him, his height playing the throbbing bulge of his cock hard against the softness of her belly, and an unreasonable and uncontrollable tremor rippled over her.
Something ... something absolutely impossible was happening inside her! She was actually experiencing wild little sensations of excitement to contrast those of shame and helplessness at his lewd assault on her defenseless body ... and although she was desperately resisting him, her mouth gave way to the rape of his tongue, and she sensed herself going limp against him as he forced her back down on the floor, his big hands covering her full uptilted breasts now through the material of her dress, sending further unbelievably lewd fermentations spiraling through her still resisting body.
"Oh ... oh ... no ... no! Stop!" Marge groaned as he lifted his head to grin evilly down at her.
"Getting to you now, Marge?" Spencer hissed, his hands roving over her exploringly.
NO! It was impossible! Her body wouldn't ... couldn't betray her again! But it was ... incredible. She was coming alive with overpowering, impossible sensations. His hands, his tongue, his body had kindled her aflame with desire almost immediately. My God! She had to gain a hold on herself! What was happening to her ... was she that sick?
Then his huge hands were on the satiny, naked flesh of her leg ... moving upward ... upward to her thigh ... the soft, warm flesh of her inner thigh ... and God Almighty! She wanted it there! Oh God ... Noooo...!
Spencer stared down at where she lay stretched out beneath him while his hands smoothed up the silken flesh of her trembling thigh, moving higher with each stroke until he let them brush to the very peak of the delightful juncture, instigating the sensation of contact as they pressed gently through her nylon panties against the golden hair covered lips of her panting pink-slitted little pussy. Marge groaned and jerked to the slight pressured touch against her tingling genitals, her brain desperately fighting to seize control from her rapidly overpowering physical senses. Oh, Lord, what had come over her? Oh ... somehow ... somehow she had to end this horrible teasing she was allowing her body to be submitted to!
"No! No! You've got to stop this ... I can't do this again ... don't you see?" she cried, rolling her head back and forth, her eyes squeezed tightly closed in her shame. "Damn you, stop, I say! I'll kill you! I'll kill you for this...!"
Oh God! Her mind was a whirlpool of confusion. If only she could think straight! Maybe if she played along a little ... Yes! Yes! She must play along ... humor him ... at least, that would make it easier ... Yes, that was it ... play along ... humor him....
"I could just eat you up, my beautiful little Venus," Spencer half-whispered. "You know that?" he went on, interrupting her thoughts as he gently lowered her panties down her smooth thighs and off her legs, brushing her hair-covered vaginal lips as he did.
Then it happened! She felt his thick long finger tracing the thick, pink-furrowed line of her nakedly exposed cunt, and she writhed and squirmed beneath it uncontrollably. Her hands caught at his powerful shoulders, their lacquered nails gouging into the muscular flesh through his clothing. A quick moment of disbelief swept her up at her own response, even as the prurient spasms of unwanted desire raced through her loins and belly while slowly he parted the wisps of soft sparse pubic hair and wormed his middle finger exploringly between her warm vaginal lips ... at last worming it deeper and deeper up into her moist, excited channel, sending shocks of insane delight soaring through her.
"Oh ... ooohhh ... no ... no...." she whimpered brokenly in mounting passion. "Please stop ... don't...."
The aroused young woman tossed her head and whined throatily in her emotional torment and inexplicable craving, a stimulating shock playing along the smoothly exposed flesh of her legs, and she twitched and squirmed her buttocks down onto the floor, her whimpers changing into an incessant series of helpless groans as Spencer's fingers taunted the sensitive pussy slit up between her thighs, gently thrusting and probing into it, parting the silken pubic hair and making a sudden electrifying contact with the tiny throbbing center of the undesired passion that had swept over her. It lewdly saturated her whole being, and she bit at her lips to hold back the moan of sheer, mindless bliss mounting ecstatically in her sensuously quivering breasts.
Oh ... oh ... it was so wicked and evil ... terribly, terribly wrong! Ohhh ... she had to stop him from doing these forbidden, lascivious things to her ... while there was still time ... but now? How?
And then momentarily, she tried to struggle against him, but he held her as if she were a child, snickering triumphantly down into her beautiful shame-contorted face. She again relaxed her struggling, the incredible horror of her complete helplessness ... of the entire situation ... slowly but indelibly impressing itself upon her mind. Dear God! She was hopelessly trapped! There was nothing she could do but lie there in defenseless subjugation while this demented man lewdly felt and explored her soft secret body at will ... taking any and all indecent liberties with her that he pleased. There was absolutely no way she could stop him....
Marge couldn't catch her breath. She tried to speak, but her words stuck in her throat, the sensual shock of his fingers teasing obscenely around her hotly quivering clitoris causing her to writhe her buttocks around on the floor in a vain effort to escape the frenzied spasms of desire coursing madly over her soft, vibrant flesh.
"Oh ... oh," she moaned helplessly while he continued his clitoral teasing, at last pausing to draw an answer from her.
"Well ... am I right, Marge? You want me to fuck you? Would you care to beg for it now?"
The helpless woman didn't answer, only closed her eyes as he raised her up, assisting him subconsciously as he began to strip her completely naked; then she felt the cool rush of air against her throbbing breasts with their hard, distended pink nipples as they became completely exposed to him ... and his sharp intake of breath, his big hand clutching them hotly ... kneading, squeezing, rolling the nipples painfully between his fingers until finally his warm, wet mouth encompassed one, his tongue flicking and worrying the tiny nipple maddeningly ... and then the other in the same manner, the hot, wet tongue at last trailing down through the deep narrow valley that separated them ... her stomach muscles tensing as it slithered down her, dipping momentarily into her navel ... taunting it while his hands continued to caress and stroke her aching breasts....
Then she moaned as his hands left her breasts and began to tear at his own clothes, practically ripping them from his body until he was completely naked beside her.
"Hey, little Venus ... open those beautiful eyes and see how it looks to you."
Marge did, agonizingly ... and she saw him kneeling up between her legs that he had forcibly and obscenely spread open to him, his face twisted in a lewd grin, and she let her eyes trail downward over his muscularly powerful torso to the thick, hardened penis standing out from his lean loins. Her eyes began to widen in mounting terror and fear stricken disbelief while his licentious smirk broadened, and his hands lustfully stroked the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the hard, blood-engorged head.
"A beautiful creation, is it not?" he taunted insanely. "A worthy sacrifice for the tight little temple of your cunt, I think!"
Marge hardly heard his obscene words; she was more shocked with the sight of his huge, already pulsating organ, icing her inside to the point of almost destroying any erotic sensations that had possessed her. Yet, she couldn't help but gape at the massiveness of his penis ... its length and thickness causing her to stare in awe ... while the sight of her own naked, obscenely spread open thighs filled her with miserable, degrading shame as once more the helplessness of her situation dwelled in her fogged brain; then it further registered that he was sadistically enjoyed this almost brutal debauchery he was subjecting her to, the gleam in his eyes bordering on sexual madness.
Still, she stared, her eyes seemingly fixed on the inhuman-sized, fleshy instrument he was still holding and stroking. Its thickness was terrorizing! Good God...! No woman could take it!
He laughed obscenely. "Bigger than Larry's, Marge?"
Marge tore her eyes away from the massive penis, rolling her head to one side as he watched with salacious delight the horrified expression of fear that contorted her face.
He dropped his weight upon her, forcing the breath from her soft white body with a gasp, the hardness of his hugely pulsating cock crushing into the tender flesh of her belly, his thick hands once more squeezing her full, firmly shaped breasts so viciously that she cried out with the pain. And then suddenly, his mouth was smothering hers, his tongue plunging deep into her throat in his mounting lust.
"You hot fucking little cunt!" he hissed, his voice once again hard, "I'm going to make you beg me to fuck you before I'm finished. Yeah ... you're going to beg me to bury my cock in that snobbish little cunt hole of yours ... so fucking deep you'll taste it!"
The terrified woman said nothing, only tried to deafen her ears to his abuse. He was sick! Sick! And then, he was moving down her body ... slithering downward ... down ... until his face was even with her loins, mere inches above them, and the repugnant shock of what he intended to do caused her to recoil in utter horror.
"Wh-what are you...? My God! No! Oh no ... no, please! You can't ... not that! Stop, you can't!" she half screamed as he placed his palm against the soft inner sides of her thighs, pressing them apart even more open to his lust-inflamed eyes. She moaned aloud, raising her head to stare down between her roundly upthrust breasts and see him, mouth open, tongue out, poised between her widespread legs. "Oh ... oh no, please ... I beg you ... don't do that to me...."
W-edged strategically between her soft white thighs, their warm inner flesh pressing against him, Spencer gazed greedily at the tight pink cuntal slit fringed enticingly with its flaxen hair, eyeing the two tiny glistening pearls of moisture that dampened the little tongue-like pink petals peeking out at him from the thin, vertical mouth; and as she lay seemingly rooted to the floor beneath her, eyes pleading, humiliation nearly complete, she watched petrified as with deliberately slow and decisive movements, he placed his thumbs delicately on the sensitive fleshy lips of her cunt, spreading the soft pubic curls, and the pussy folds parted, almost gluttonously, flowering open the moist, coral flesh to his desire-filled sight.
In utter degradation, Marge felt the hot wisps of his rapid breathing taunt her sensitive vaginal flesh, and she moaned in shame, her head still upright, her eyes almost refusing to acknowledge the lewd scene they were beholding. Then, abruptly, her own breath nearly choked her as she watched his face lower into the trembling "vee" of her naked vaginal slit ... and felt the full length of his long, hot tongue slip wetly up into her shocked and quivering pussy.
Her lovely, soft, naked body recoiled through reflex, jerking convulsively, a loud whimper bursting from her lungs while her buttocks ground vainly downwards in her useless effort to evade the obscene outrage he was committing upon her defensively trapped genitals. Her stomach lurched and churned in spasmodic confusion, and she moaned loathingly while his tongue slithered in and out of her hopelessly exposed cunt in warped animal-like frenzy.
"Oooooh ... Ooohhhh ... stop! Don't ... please ... oohhhhhh!" she groaned incessantly in her debasing degradation, her head beginning to flail from side to side as she held it raised in humiliated, shameful horror, gaping in disbelief at his obscene licking down between her widespread thighs. It wasn't happening! It couldn't be! A horrible and lewd nightmare ... that was all! She tried to reason it away, but his tongue reassured her as it raced in a liquid torrent up into her unwanting ... yet rapidly dilating cunt.
"Ohhhhh! God ... God ... stop! My God! You can't do this to me! Please ... please ... stop it!" she hissed between tightly clenched teeth in her horror while at the same time tiny unwanted spasms of lewd delight were coming alive within her whole being from his demented and depraved tonguing of her moistly palpitating cuntal slit.
His lips probed and explored until he found the erectly pulsating button of her clitoris. He heard her gasping moan of agonized pleasure as he sucked the tiny, throbbing pleasure bud between his teeth and clutching it tightly, laved his tongue over and around it in a series of rapidly increasing circles until eventually he opened his lust-hungry mouth wider and sent his tongue downward, back through the velvet moistened slit to the hot, throbbing opening of her vaginal channel.
Marge realized that she could hardly control herself any longer, that the erotic sensations had reached beyond her physical or mental powers of counteraction. She had become overwhelmingly enraptured with his lust-filled tonguing of her cunt ... her own brain had become a turmoil, and her feeble power to fight had so diminished that it was hardly even a memory. She suddenly found herself flailing her head wantonly from side to side as he orally fucked her, lashing and plunging his long hot tongue up into her receptive and now hotly clasping vagina while she listened as if from another world to her own mewling and whimpering sounds, and he continued to swirl and thrust his tongue into the warm velvety confines of her moist passion charged cunt.
Abruptly then, Spencer was raising her legs high, slipping his arms beneath them until they were w-edged underneath her thighs, pressing them relentlessly up until they draped over his broad shoulders; then he maneuvered his hand and wrist skillfully beneath the quivering white mounds of her buttocks, pulling them up to his mouth with captive authority.
Marge's whimpers of ungovernable, if involuntary, pleasure filled the room as he burrowed his hot tongue deeper and deeper into the simmering wet depths up between her thighs. She tossed about jerkily beneath him, and he watched her hands fight a losing battle with one another ... until suddenly they were clenching at his hair in desperation, lewdly struggling to pull him further and further into her loins.
Her whimpers became moans then outright cries of rapture as he continued to plunge his tongue deep into the searing depths of her delighted cunt.
What little control she had managed to exercise had disappeared. Now her buttocks were jerking and convulsing of their own accord beneath his lewdly thrusting tongue that was shooting erotic jolts of never-before-known sensation through her unfulfilled body. She felt his tongue flick from her vagina downward toward the secret, tiny, puckered little hole of her anus! She wanted to scream ... but instead, she moaned in erotic bliss as the sudden, wet, seething contact of his pleasure-giving tongue with the forbidden, sensitive opening. She closed her eyes and licked at her lips in sensual enchantment.
"Oh ... ooohhh ... ooohhhh," she chanted ecstatically. "Y-you ... filthy ... filthy ... ooohhh! No...." she moaned, even as she rolled her hips and tried in helpless abandon to screw her tormented cunt back up onto his stiff probing tongue.
"Oh ... ohhh! My God!" she coughed, dropping her head back and letting it flail from side to side, her helplessness and debasement still actively strong within her, even as her buttocks jerked and writhed at the delicious sensation racing wildly through her whole body. "Ooohhh...." she gasped further, again raising her head to gape down at his evilly distorted face licking so hotly between her upraised thighs.
"Please ... oh, please stop ... Don't ... don't!" she begged, the horrifying realization dawning upon her that the words tumbling from her lips were false ... for she did not want them to stop!
And he licked on at her openly spread loins while her soft white body trembled and spasmed uncontrollably beneath the overpowering assault at the raw nerve ends of her pulsating cunt; her clenched teeth, fists and determination could no longer do anything to hold back the wanton throes of sensual bliss that had seized complete domination over her. There was no fight left in her ... he was bringing her intense rapture, the likes of which she had never before dreamed! Her voluptuously sensitive body had secretly cried out too long for fulfillment!
"Ooooh ... OOOHHH, dear God! Y-Yes ... yes ... do it! Do it! Lick my cunt!
Suck it ... please! Do things to me ... oohhh!" she moaned lewdly, her shamelessly aroused flesh quivering and twitching beneath his long, hot tongue. She raised her hips to him, her wet squirming loins submitting in complete servitude. Her hands clutched at his hair as she cried out from the very depths of her soul, all else but the bliss of the moment finally obliterated from her mind as she tried to pull his face in tighter to the throbbing widespread hole between her legs while the near-insane delight of lust-filled enchantment captured complete charge over her.
Spencer raised his head quickly from her burning loins and hissed at her sadistically, "Are you begging me, Venus, are you begging me now?"
"Yes ... please ... suck me ... make me cum ... I'm almost theerree...."
Spencer laughed cruelly and threw his mouth once more around her pulsating cuntal lips, his own cock now so painfully hard he felt like he would burst at any moment and spew his white-hot load all over the oak floor. Goddamn, he thought to himself wildly, I'm going to make this little bitch cum just by sucking her, and then I'm going to ram my cock in her mouth until she chokes!! If only there was time! He already felt his sperm-bloated balls beginning to rumble with the aching of his own imminent release.
Suddenly, he felt Marge thrust her fiery loins hard up against his lewdly working face as she arched her back high off the floor in unbearable ecstasy.
"Ooohhh ... Goodd ... it's heerrree ... I'm cumming ... God in heaven ... I'm cummiinnggg ... Aaagghh...."
Marge's thrashing legs wrapped themselves tightly around Spencer's passionately bobbing head as a mind-shattering burst of sensation swept over her passionately tensed body like a crashing tidal wave, sweeping her consciousness before it with the unbelievable force of its coming. Her hands wound in his long hair and pulled his mouth up tightly against her wildly thrashing cunt, almost drowning him in the sudden flow of female moisture that gushed from her vaginal cavity out around his lips and chin.
Quickly, he raised himself from between her legs and swung his throbbing aching cock over her tossing head, thrusting it in one motion down into her contorted face.
"Take it, Venus, take it in your mouth and suck! Suck hard!"
Her mind completely gone with the force of her passion, Marge could only focus her eyes on the beautiful shaft of flesh peering down at her from the darkness of Spencer's pubic hair. Hungrily, without thinking, she grasped the massive pillar and brought it with a rush into her awaiting mouth and sucked it wildly in time with the jerking convulsions of her own going on climax. She felt Spencer thrusting himself brutally down onto her face, once, twice, five times, and then before she realized what was happening, her mouth was filled with his hot, burning cum, choking her, forcing her to swallow wildly in an attempt to keep up with his insanely spewing cock.
Above her, Spencer rolled his eyes triumphantly toward the ceiling, his hands wrapped in Marge's hair, his mind a total blank except for the unbelievable sensation of emptying his whole body into the wetly sucking mouth of the defenseless young woman skewered so obscenely beneath his plunging cock. He felt wave after wave of boiling cum flow out of him, convulsing his aching loins mercilessly, making his whole body shudder as though his sperm were being squeezed out of his bloated balls by some overpowering suction device. And then, after jerking his rapidly deflating penis a few more times into Marge's now-passive mouth, he rolled off her onto his back and closed his eyes, sighing with pleasure.
As soon as he was off her, Marge rolled away from him and jumped to her feet in panic, grabbed her dress and threw it on her trembling body. Her own fantastic climax was already forgotten as she realized what Spencer had done to her. The ultimate degradation! Oh God, she had had his ... thing ... in her own mouth and even sucked it, and now her stomach was full of the lewd hot sperm he had loosed into the back of her throat! Marge's brain reeled in total shame and revulsion. There was nothing worse than that! Nothing! Except for the lingering taste of his seed on her tongue, she might have thought it was just a terrible nightmare. But it wasn't a nightmare-it was true! And it had happened to her! She felt shamefully used and debased beyond belief, whorish to the very depths of her soul and knew that she could never again feel so completely debauched as she did at that moment.
She stared down in horror at the man lying on the floor below her, his face smiling up at her as though they were two lovers having just given themselves to one another. But Marge knew that what she had just done, what Spencer had just done to her was as far from love as night is from day. And yet she didn't hate him-she couldn't hate him because he was obviously a sick, sick man. And so as she stood there, her eyes wide with revulsion at what she had done, all her hate was turned in on her own soul with relentless force.
She had turned and stumbled toward the door. She didn't even hear Spencer calling to her as she threw open the door and ran outside, tripping on the step and falling headlong onto the ground. She picked herself up hysterically and forced her unwilling legs to carry her away, desperately, hopelessly seeking a haven where she could rest her tired body and forget the shame that coursed through her whole being.
As she ran up the path away from Spencer's cabin, there was only one thought in her churning mind. Laura, you've got to help me ... please, God ... I'm sick! I'm sick ... help me....
CHAPTER SIX
Laura Morgan made her way slowly along the steep grade of the path leading from the Chapel down the hill to the Village. Her face was dirty, caked with dust that had mingled with her tears and left dry little rivers running down her soft cheeks. Her beautifully white body was scratched and bruised from the lashings of tree branches and undergrowth that had torn at her completely naked body as she had run hysterically from Spencer's cabin after being completely humiliated at the hands of Spencer and her own boyfriend, Larry Webb. She had run blindly, unconsciously, for more than fifteen minutes that afternoon, tripping over hidden roots, falling, picking herself up only to fall once more, or to run headlong into a low hanging branch. Finally she had stopped, trembling like an animal at bay, gazing fearfully around as though she expected the trees themselves to come alive and advance on her sinisterly from all sides.
Then she had made her agonizing way up the hill to the Chapel, to the one place in this awful commune where she might find peace, might be able to think, and to reason out what had happened to her. She had been there for almost four hours, and was making her way back to her cabin now only because the cool night air had begun to chill her naked flesh, making her shiver and arousing her from the completely apathetic state she had fallen into.
Larry Webb, the boy she'd thought she loved, the boy she'd followed to this commune in order to find love and security of a kind her transient mother could never provide, had betrayed her so totally that Laura felt as though the ground had been torn from under her feet! He had permitted, even encouraged, Spencer to shove his long cock up into her while she was bringing Larry to a climax with her own mouth! The sight of the three of them writhing on Spencer's mattress impressed itself indelibly on Laura's tortured mind, as though she'd been simply a spectator in the cabin, watching three other people engage in the same disgusting perversion she herself had been a party to. She tried to rid herself of the terrible image, but it remained as fixed in her thoughts as a fully developed obscene photograph, which she didn't want to look at, but was forced to.
And the way Larry had talked-how he'd promised to fuck her again as soon as his cock was hard, right in front of the leering eyes of his friend, Spencer! Laura felt doubly betrayed, because Spencer, whom she supposed to be such a sensitive, kind man, had so inexplicably metamorphosized into a lusting, animalistic monster, taking her mercilessly as though she were nothing more than a piece of meat hung up for sale in someone's filthy, fly-ridden butcher shop. The whole experience had shattered Laura's ego and self-respect almost totally, making her doubt all things because her deep-felt love for Larry Webb had proven to be such a disastrous delusion.
And so she walked slowly down the hill, her lovely blonde hair snarled and tangled with bits of grass and leaves, her eyes dry now and reddened, her bruised body bowed and slumped over pitifully as she walked. She skirted the clearing of the Village by a hundred yards, not wanting to meet anyone else from the commune with their questions and their peering eyes. Her thoughts now, as she walked, were centered strangely enough on only one thing, and that was her mother ... her mother as she had been so long ago when Laura would come home from school bleeding from a schoolyard fight ... her mother when Laura had rushed into the house from her first date in tears because the boy had brought her home an hour early ... her mother as she had always held and comforted her daughter in the warm, loving embrace of her soothing arms.
Laura realized now that she'd been completely wrong about what had happened this afternoon. It was obvious to her that Larry had instigated the whole sordid affair, and that her mother had been completely blameless. Laura chastised herself mercilessly for the words she had flung at her mother so hysterically that afternoon by the Pool, and knew that those words must have hurt Marge terribly, especially because she had been innocent and the violence of Laura's attack was undeserved.
Laura finally made her way down through the trees surrounding her own cabin, and saw a dim light shining through the closed window. With a shiver of excitement and longing, she realized that it must be her daughter, waiting for her, still believing her daughter had meant all those things she'd said to her. Laura's overpowering love for her mother coursed through her almost violently as she suddenly knew that her love for her mother was the only thing remaining to her amid the shattered ruins of her world, and that no matter what happened, she must cling to that love as the only stable thing in her disordered life!
With a cry, she rushed up to the cabin, and flung open the door, and then stopped with a start, inside. Her mother lay sobbing on Laura's cot, completely naked, her dress thrown in a corner of the room, her eyes red and swollen as she turned quickly to see her daughter standing in the doorway.
"Oh God, Laura, what ... what happened to you?"
Laura was suddenly aware of the impression she must be making, her own naked body standing motionless in the doorway, scratched and bruised from her wild flight, and rushed to her mother with a cry of shame.
"Oh Mother, I'm wicked! You were right ... Larry is a monster, horrible ... I don't know how I never saw it ... Can you ever forgive me for what I said to you?"
Marge opened her arms to her daughter, and Laura melted into them like she had so many times before.
"Laura. I ... I don't understand ... what happened?"
"I can't ... I can't talk about it ... "
"You must, dear, you must," Marge said soothingly. "You have to get it out of you."
Laura raised her head to her mother's and saw the concern and love there, and gained the courage to tell her mother what had happened. She described her horrible session with Larry and Spencer, from the time she left her mother by the Pool until she ran off into the woods. As she did, Marge hugged her daughter tenderly to her breast, her heart going out to her in compassion as she realized that they'd both been the innocent victims of the same, sinister man.
Her hands caressed her child's soft back and shoulders and Laura moaned out her story, and Marge hugged her instinctively, smelling the young, sweet hair and feeling her daughter's firm, round breasts against her own swelling mounds, nipples against nipples. Her own eyes b-rimmed with sympathetic responsiveness, and she was at a loss to know what exactly to say.
"I'm not fit to live," Laura concluded, tears in her eyes.
"Yes, you are, darling," her mother cooed. "You're the best girl a mother could ever want and ... nothing you've done could make you unfit ... nothing. "
"You ... you really mean that, Mother?" Laura whimpered.
"Laura, I love you more than anything in the world, and when I thought I'd lost you today, I wanted to kill myself. You're my light, my life...."
"But I've been so bad, so sinful!"
"I've ... I've had to think a lot about sins, dear," Marge said ruefully, tenderly kissing the tear-stained cheek nearest her, still running her hands over Laura's soft warm back. "I've had to somehow come to terms with myself, too, you know. I'm ... I'm like you said, unworthy of being called a mother. I let you down so badly...."
And with the tears beginning to well up in her own eyes, Marge forced herself to tell Laura the terrible tale of her experience with Spencer that evening, leaving out nothing, desperate to cleanse herself, to confess to her daughter as Laura had done to her. And when she finished, both mother and daughter were crying, locked in each other's arms as though they were trying to find in each other the answer to their own doubts and fears. They lay on the cot for a long while, silent and rocking together in mutual love, rebuilding the faith and trust they had had for one another over the years. The minds of both were whirling with private thoughts of guilt and remorse, which only served to cement their common bond further. Finally Laura was able to stop crying, and she blinked and drew away from her mother just enough to wipe her swollen, red-rimmed eyes with the back of her hand.
"M-mother, can I talk to you?" she asked in a soft whisper.
"Of course, Laura!"
"I mean really talk, mother. I ... I don't think that I've been mature enough before for us to do that, but after what's happened to both of us, maybe we can be closer than just mother and daughter."
Marge stared at her lovely daughter, into the other's pain-flecked eyes, and decided the time had come for her to drop all the barriers, be honest and frank. She had no moral righteousness to preach anyway, not after this evening, and she vowed to open herself up to her daughter completely. In a strange way, all the hurt and fear she had gone through were beginning to turn out for the better, she thought, and as she looked at her daughter, she seemed to feel calmer and more loving than ever before. Unified. In perfect communication now, she and Laura would find a way together without false barriers or hidden questions.
"Darling child," she said contritely, "after what you walked out on this afternoon, with me fucking-" she swallowed at the word, but managed to say it, "-fucking with your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend," Laura spat vindictively.
"Larry, then. Well, I don't feel in any position to give advice. I am just overwhelmed with your willingness to consider me an equal, a friend." She gazed at her daughter's angelic face, so similar to her own.
"No, Mother, no, I must have your advice. I ... I'm so confused and miserable. And you've had so many other men...."
"Oh no, Laura, you're mistaken! I haven't at all! In fact," Marge blushed slightly, at the intimacy of her revelation, "I haven't ever even slept with a man except ... except your father ... ,until today."
Laura's eyes grew wide with amazement.
"Mother, you're kidding! Really?"
Marge smiled ruefully.
"Yes, it's the truth. Oh, I had some friends, some men after Bruce and I were divorced, but ... but I never let it go very far."
"But why?" Laura asked in disbelief. "That's more than fifteen years ago! I didn't think it was possible! How could you go so long without being loved?"
Marge drew her daughter to her, almost sadly.
"I was loved, dear ... I was loved by you." She lowered her eyes to Laura's naked body.
"And I guess ... I've never admitted it ... but I guess I was just scared ... scared of giving myself after ... after your father."
"That must have been a pretty bad scene," Laura said compassionately, becoming aware for the first time of the tremendous burden her mother had carried for so long.
"It was...." Marge admitted. "It was more than bad. It was hell. Sometimes I almost went mad, crazy. I can see it now, and it was silly. It's all been a terribly neurotic, sinful waste. When I think of all those years...."
It was Laura's turn to comfort her mother, and she did so, taking Marge's trembling hand and pressing it to her smooth rounded breasts impulsively. "You mustn't think of that, Mother, you mustn't!"
"I can't help it though! Today Larry, Spencer, it's all come back to haunt me. I ... I've been without sex so long ... I mean real sex ... I just couldn't control myself today. I didn't want ... I tried to stop it, but then everything was too strong. The thought of having a man ... of being filled up inside again after all those years...."
Laura looked gently at her trembling mother, loving her more at this moment than ever before, feeling infinitely close to her simply because that artificial barrier between parent and child had in one tumultuous day been swept forever from between them. She felt she knew her mother better that day than she ever had before, but she knew that there was much, much more to learn.
"Mother, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, dear," Marge said, drying her eyes, "Anything."
"I don't really know how to put this, but ... well, I couldn't imagine going so long without love ... I mean, well, sex, you know?" Laura was encouraged by Marge's nod of the head, and went on. "Well, if you never had any men, in all that time ... I mean ... how did you ... You must have gotten very frustrated."
Marge smiled almost wearily, hoping her daughter would never experience just how frustrated she'd gotten. She answered her daughter with a simple nod of the head.
"Well," Laura went on, "What did you do? I mean how did you handle it?" Laura watched as her mother's eyes turned away from her, and stared intently at some undefined point on the wall opposite them. She knew her mother was embarrassed by her question, but Laura had to know. It would bridge that last gap, and make her mother more human to her than anything else could.
"I'll tell you something, Mom," she said quietly, taking the first plunge, "when I used to come home from dates, and I'd been well, petting or necking or something, you know...." Laura looked at her mother and saw that she was listening, " ... sometimes I'd go up to my bedroom and I'd be so ... so frustrated, like you must have been, that I ... I would play with myself. And it would help, and most of the time I'd cum, too, and it would relax me. And I somehow always felt bad about it, but ... but I think now that ... that maybe you did that too, huh?"
There was a pause, and then Marge heard herself whispering, "I did ... I've done it before when I've gotten so hot I had to have relief."
"Did ... did you ever use a handle of a hairbrush or something like that?"
"Oh, never ... only my fingers." Dizzy with her confessions, Marge first stared at her hands as if seeing them for the first time, then down at her softly hair-covered vagina which had felt their touch so often.
Laura gazed with an electrifying intensity at the same soft pubic mound where her mother was looking ... and her breath caught in her lungs. She was unable to take her eyes off her mother's displayed sexuality, where she'd seen Larry's cock slide in and out, from which had spurted his overflowing sperm, and which now in her imaginings, she dreamed of fingers whipping back and forth, over and over....
She stared enamored for some unknown, unthinking reason, and though she had seen other nipples and breasts and vaginas of other girls, she'd never reacted this way before. It was because her mother was her own flesh and blood, and she was instinctively attracted to the womb which had produced her; there, so close that she could touch it, softly protected by the curve of one firm, soft thigh and the slightly puffy cuntal lips. Her own genitals began to tingle in response to her words and thoughts....
"I used to use that yellow hairbrush you gave me for Christmas when I was ten," Laura murmured in a fevered hush. "Then, when I was older, one of my friends showed me a vibrator, a round, candle-shaped one made of plastic and that ran on batteries. They're cheap, and when I used it, it reminded me of a man's cock...."
Marge swallowed hard, agitated by her daughter's immodest talk-of her own perverted admissions. She had always been so ashamed of having used her fingers to curtail the hunger of her unrequited sex drive-and the thought had never occurred to her to use anything else as a stimulus. Her stomach was a thousand butterflies, her breath seemed to grow harder to draw into her lungs, and she realized with a wrenching guilt feeling that as Laura talked about what she did with that vibrator, her hips were beginning to quiver and her breasts were actually throbbing in response to her own daughter's immoral practices...." I bought one at the drug store," Laura droned on mesmerically, lost in her memories and staring openly at her mother's now trembling vagina. "I'd sit on my bed in my room and read a text for homework, and when the urge hit me, I'd turn on the little vibrator and run it up and down the crotchband of my panties. I'd let it play there, buzzing and tickling like crazy until I couldn't stand it any longer, and then I'd push my panties aside with the tip of it and spread my legs on the bed and slide it up and down my open pussy. When I felt my orgasm nearly there, I'd throw the book aside and jam the round, smooth tip of the vibrator up inside my cunt as far as it would go ... and I'd squeeze it and squeeze it and squeeze it ... "
"Laura, don't...." Marge moaned, a deep wetness pervading her responding cunt, and little droplets of unwanted desire began to form on the golden pubic hair covering her slowly swelling vaginal lips. She groaned and inwardly fought off her sexual chemistry, clenching her inner thighs together. "Don't go on like that. You're only disturbing yourself."
The girl swung her gaze to her mother's face. "Are we bad for doing that? Tell me, mother ... are we wicked to masturbate?"
Marge had always considered herself so, but under the necessity of answering her daughter, she realized that the only thing wicked about masturbation was the guilt she had for so long attached to the act. "No, no, Laura. We're women, with women's drives and needs. We're only human."
Laura was sitting on the cot, now, and Marge focused her loving eyes on the curves of her daughter's lithe young body, its tiny, firm nipples and pear-shaped breasts, and the way her inner thighs were pressed around her vagina.
Wisps of yellow pubic hair, still soaked with dried male sperm, peeked from between her closed inner thighs, and as Marge looked at her daughter adoringly, she began to regard Laura not as a child any longer. She was a woman, having had men and received pleasure, and there was no use denying the fact that they both had committed the same immoral transgressions of the flesh. Their transgressions seemed to tie them together more closely, closer than just friends, for there were still the filial ties, and things were a little less terrifying for the two of them as together they smiled tentatively at each other.
Laura looked down and spread her legs. She looked past her tiny hardening nipples and white breasts to her pubic mound, with its thin pink slit and curly blonde hair. She placed a tentative finger at her cuntal valley, opening the coral smooth flesh to view.
"You're not revolted by me then?" she asked softly. "You're not just saying this to make me feel better, and all the while you're nauseated by the sight of me? You still love me ... after all this?"
"More, darling," Marge said fervently. "More than ever." She sat up and then got an idea, and quickly she padded across to a table in the corner of the cabin, and took a damp wash cloth from the side of a bowl of water Laura used to wash herself in the mornings. "Here," she said, coming back and lying on the cot. "Just to show you what I feel, I'll wash you off, just as if you were a baby again, needing changing."
"I'd like that, Mother," Laura said, and obediently stretched out on the coverlet. She looked down her body at her mother, and then up along her mother's firm, lithe body which lay stretched out on the cot alongside her, at the rounded beauty of her breasts and buttocks, and the way that her close, hair-covered cunt was tantalizing the smoldering fire in her belly. She stared at her mother's vagina, trembling, unable to stop the lewd thoughts in her head as she saw the hair-fringed, soft pink lips glint and the hint of her clitoris peek from its folds. God, my mother has a beautiful cunt ... I wonder if she thinks I've got a beautiful one too....
Marge smiled at her teenager's face and then looked down past the slender column of Laura's throat, across her smooth, tanned shoulders, down her sides and breasts, down to where her hips swelled from the slimness of her youthful waist. Marge drank in the loveliness of her creation, admired her child's naked belly and legs, and then turned her attention to Laura's velvet-smooth thighs, which for some reason were now slightly trembling under their dried coating of Spencer's hours old sperm.
"Open your thighs a little more, darling," Marge said, and found that her chest was suddenly constricted and her throat tight. An inexplicable sensation tickled Marge's stomach, as if she was anticipatorily excited by her daughter's cunt. She couldn't explain it, any more than she had been able to explain any of the other happenings of the last few hours, and could only try to clear her head of the unwanted stimulations. With a soft moaning hiss, Laura rolled her legs aside, and Marge gasped at the enticing sight of her tender pink vaginal slit with its fleshy lips a reddish color as if swelling with desire, and her blonde pubic hair matted with the dried juices of her most recent fucking.
Marge took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and quiveringly, she raised the washcloth up to her daughter's wet, soft vaginal slit and stroked it back and forth.
"Ohhhh," Laura moaned, and spasmed suddenly from the delicious contact. Although she tried to stop herself from reacting openly to her mother's touches, telling herself that it was wrong, her cunt tingled with every cleansing stroke of the warm, rough-edged cloth.
Marge continued to brush her daughter's pubic hair and cunt tenderly with the damp cloth, drying the blonde curls, fluffing them, moving down one soft inner thigh and up the other. Intense stabs of desire radiated through Marge, and in half-revulsion, half-captivation, she took the cloth back to the moon-shaped buttocks and the barely mature long pink valley of her young daughter's cunt, and unable to resist, she began once more to stroke Laura's pubic hair and vaginal lips.
The girl shuddered and gasped for air, her pulsating legs spread still wider for her mother to touch, one leg bent in the air as Laura turned and arched her loins forward, as if she was enjoying the lewd contact. Marge could see the hairless, puckered mouth of her anal opening now, and shuddered reflexively. Something perverted, something more wrong and more degenerate than the acts she'd allowed to be done to her body before was beginning to take form in her belly ... She was becoming excited by her own daughter! She was actually attracted to the dainty pink flesh and nestling clitoris which had suddenly begun to become erect in the sweetly trembling folds!
Laura had always considered oral love between women as incredibly abhorrent, and had turned it down the few times she had been propositioned. But now, as inexorably passionate fingers touched her inflamed pubic lips and hair, and parted the soft, moist crevice to gently stroke the open slit up between her legs, the young teenager undulated her hips slightly and felt her pussy secrete more juices of desire. She gazed sideways wide-eyed at her mother's vagina beside her, at her enticing pink flesh and the honey dewed, sparkling droplets which Marge was unaware of having formed uncontrollably on her own soft skin. Laura breathed in the musky, female scent, quivered as she fought for control, and then unable to stop, reached out with one tentative, trembling finger and brushed it over the lower belly and inner thighs, circling the coral edges of her own mother's cunt. Her skin was so soft, so warm and satiny ... so good to touch....
"Laura!" her mother gasped with a groan. "What ... what are you doing?" She jerked, her body convulsing from the lancing touch. It was undeniably pleasurable, and an electric shock rippled through her from her child's softer, lighter feel ... She looked with agony at the sensitive pink flesh before her own burning eyes, at the golden triangle of her child's pubic curls and taut ruby lips and the way that even more of the delectable young cunt was flowering open as Laura widened her legs still more. The mother trembled and moaned from the salacious and unwelcome passions convulsing her belly and loins, for her daughter was still moving her fingers around her pussy, stroking like feathers, and Marge was unable to stop from arching her buttocks and letting one leg slowly rise and bend in response.
She fought it with all her might. "Stop, Laura ... stop before it's too late ... Ohh, Laura, Laura ... enough, enough, no more!" she begged weakly, wretchedly aware that she couldn't stop the mounting sensuality which had overtaken them. But her pleas died in a strangled mixture of sob and sigh and her body pulsed as her mind cried out in fevered rejection.
Laura was beside herself now, and she extended her middle finger and ran it along the partially open slit of her mother's heated pussy, up and down, entranced by the way it slowly parted and made a slight sucking motion for more. She located the hard nub of her clitoris and tweaked it, rubbing it around and sliding her other fingers in the moistly throbbing mouth of her cunt, her mind a revolving whirlwind of dreams and passions, as if she was fingering herself.
Marge rolled her head from side to side, and in a futile gesture of anguish, mewled: "Oh God, Laura, you've got to stop! This is wrong!"
"Is it, Mother? Why? We love each other, don't we?"
"Yes, but-"
"If we love each other, and we want each other, then that's when we should enjoy sex ... It must be that way...."
"No, but we're...." She shuddered, choking, for Laura had slid her middle finger up inside her throbbing cunt and was teasingly massaging it around and around.
"Love me, Mother," Laura breathed urgently. "Take me in your arms and love me, for I'd rather be loved by you than by all the men who have loved me before...."
A tortured gasp erupted from the mother's throat, and unable to control herself any longer, she dipped her head forward and her hot breath blew searing flame into the open pink well of her daughter's vagina, and her tongue snaked out and made tingling contact with the girl's desire moistened cunt, and she heard her daughter gasp and shiver and cry for more ... more!
Marge kept telling herself that this was the most horrid of all perversions, and shame made her tighten her vagina against the invading fingers of Laura's wildly churning hand, but that only caused further lascivious delights to ravage her loins. Unable to control her inner desires for Marge wanted to love her daughter, and sex was a part of loving-she lashed out with her moist tongue and licked and kissed Laura everywhere-and Laura in turn parted her thighs and drew her one leg higher and outward so that her mother could have greater access to the seething secret flesh up between her thighs.
Her fingers still madly worming around, the young daughter let all thoughts of right and wrong, immorality or depravity sweep away as she clutched the excitedly quivering buttocks of her young mother with almost inhuman strength with her hand and tangled her lips and mouth in the curls of her pubic hair. She licked hot molten paths all the way along the cuntal lips, right down to her mother's tiny puckered anus, then back up again, to where she nipped the quivering clitoris with her sharp white teeth, smelled the beautiful bouquet of female aroma coming from her mother's heated loins, her own pussy aching with twin devils of mouthings and the excitement of her oft-repressed, secretly desired longings.
"Ohhhhhh," Marge moaned in a muffled voice. "Ohhhhhh." Ripples of vain resistance at what they were doing coursed through her, but all was overridden by the deep inundation of sensuality and passion. I can't do it to Laura ... not my own daughter ... Her head oscillated slavishly as she abandoned herself to lesbianism, to incestual lesbianism. Her body heaved and pumped against her teenage daughter's mouth, her thighs widening as she drew Laura's wetly glistening cunt closer to her face. Her mind swirled in the ambivalence of wanting and yet not wanting this lewd, incestuous carnality to stop.
What's possessed me ... possessed us both? Her confused, sex-starved mind queried. I'm on fire ... ohhh, this is wrong ... oohhhh ... but good ... The forces exerted on her flesh and her mind were too overwhelming to allow her to answer her own questions. After all the pain and suffering she had gone through, starting with the insidious buildup of years of frustrated neglect, and culminating in the shame and despair of that day. Her brain was more than willing to simply give up and allow passion and delight and total abandonment to her private desires dominate her actions.
Marge's head moved her mouth along her daughter's smooth, passion moist slit, orally fucking Laura harder and faster, sliding her hot, wet tongue far along the child's throbbing, hair fringed cunt and reveling in the unintelligible whimperings Laura made as she in turn swirled and flicked her lips and tongue around her mother's velvet soft folds of pulsatingly moist pussy flesh. She brought her hands around Laura's hips, pushing her thighs up until the youngster's saliva-drenched vagina was pressed tight and draped around her wetly slavering cheeks, and Marge spread her legs wide so that her daughter could cup her soft, white buttocks and thrust her young pink mouth deep, deep into the searing liquid depths of her open loins....
Neither of the two women undulating on the bed heard the soft, surreptitious entrance of the two shadowed figures who slipped quietly into the dim room. The two stood transfixed in utter, obscene awe at the lascivious sight before them.
Spencer sucked in his breath. "Jeezus! You said that they'd both be here when you saw the lights, Larry, but I never-"
"Shut up," hissed the fevered Larry Webb. He was astounded at seeing his girlfriend caught in the sexual fury of lesbianism. He stared incredulously, for not even in his most debauched imaginations had he ever dreamed up such a combination, and here it was, spread like a picnic before him! The sight of mother and daughter simultaneously absorbed in their writhing, undulating sucking of each other's cunts, at the golden pussy-hair and pink vaginal flesh and the way they both greedily clung with lips and mouths, licking and sliding their tongues wetly from their respectively hardened clitorises to the tender pink buds of their anuses, blew his mind.
The two men watched the obscenely slaving women buck and spasm their way to orgasm, heard the mewls and muffled moans of enrapturement, and the the sight of the lesbianic, incestual orgy brought their own boiling passions to a crest. They stood unnoticed in a dim corner of the cabin, their mouths open and almost drooling from the salacious sight before them. Larry had figured both Laura and Marge would get together back here in Laura's cabin, and he'd had no trouble convincing Spencer to come with him to the cabin and attempt to trick or coerce either the mother or the daughter or preferably both into games of sex. But neither had been prepared for the lewd display of uncontrolled sexual lust that was being performed right in front of them. Quickly, Larry moved to a small pile of blankets lying in the corner of the cabin, and unobtrusively spread two of them onto the floor. Amazingly, neither of the writhing, passion-crazed women on the cot heard or noticed him, so preoccupied were they with the forbidden pleasures of each other's wetly seeping cunts.
Then, with an easy motion, Larry peeled off his shirt, and dropped his pants from his muscular frame, motioning Spencer to do the same. With a grin, and hardly needing to be urged, Spencer complied, until the two hotly excited men stood side by side, their hotly aroused cocks jutting lewdly out in front of them, ready for action.
Spencer began to stroke his massive penis lightly, pulling she shaft skin back and forth and letting the fiery cum build in his testicles, while he watched the two nakedly churning women on the bed.
"Ohhhhh, I want the mother," he moaned, rocking on his heels. "Ohhhhh, I want those hot wild lips of hers on my cock again!"
Larry Webb flashed him a look, his eyes twin beacons of lust. He chuckled lewdly. "Take the mother, then. Me, I'm going to take Laura, and I'm going to take her a way she's never let me fuck her before! But she's got no choice this time! I'm going to fuck her in the ass!"
The two men couldn't wait any longer, and began to advance cautiously towards the straining, undulating female bodies on the cot in front of them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Marge writhed and moaned on the cot from the delectable firebrand lickings of her moistly hot furrow, the gentle probings of her daughter's tongue and fingers in her sensitive vagina and anus. The feverish passion she had allowed to completely engulf her she returned double-fold, driving her tongue into the hotly clasping channel of Laura's cunt.
Laura strained her loins into her mother's mouth with all her strength. She mewled incoherently and wound her warm smooth thighs around the tongue which was being thrust so rapaciously into her. The velvet smooth lining of her vagina clasped obscenely back at her mother's mouth, squeezing her tongue tightly until she thought she would go insane. She was insane-with a madness of total surrender to the lure of the flesh. Her mind reveled in wickedness and she screwed her buttocks up tight against her mother's face, and her soft, hair covered skin and tiny naked anus were sending uninterrupted delights surging through her body.
Then, suddenly, Marge felt a pair of strong hands close tightly around her painfully hardened nipples, beginning to massage them with insistent forcefulness. Her irrational mind thought at first that they were Laura's hands, but then she realized that they were too big, too rough. Looking up, she gasped as she found herself staring into the lust contorted face of the grinning Spencer.
"Well, looks like we meet again, little Venus ... how nice."
Marge wrenched herself away from him back on the cot, moaning in utter mortification that he had seen her and Laura like this, shamelessly cavorting in lesbian ecstasy. Then she realized with a start that Spencer was not alone, and she recognized the naked form of Larry Webb bent over the suddenly inert body of her daughter.
"Keep away from her, you beast!" she cried, raising herself from the cot to strike Larry in the face as he hovered over her daughter. But, her hand was caught in mid-swing by the powerful vise-like grip of Spencer's huge hand, and he pulled her off the cot and onto the floor beside him.
"You like to hit people, Marge, and that's not nice," he cooed with a sickly sweet smile. "We come as lovers ... not fighters."
Marge moaned in pain as he gave her wrist a little twist to emphasize the irony of his statement, and she gave up trying to resist.
"Mother ... don't fight it! We don't have to fight it now! We have each other ... they can't do anything to hurt us anymore!"
Marge looked up to the cot, and saw her daughter's loving face gazing down at her fearfully, and she realized Laura was right. What could these two brutes do to them now? They had already been hurt and shamed completely, they couldn't be hurt anymore. Marge gazed with infinite love into her daughter's face, at her voluptuously formed young breasts and milk-white thighs, and realized that no matter what happened to them, they would always have each other.
"You're right, Laura. We mustn't fight. As long as we have each other, nothing else is important. We will survive this, like we have survived everything else in this terrible place, and when its all over, we will still have each other."
Laura looked down on her mother, still grasped by one wrist by the sadistic Spencer, and smiled angelically. The bond had been made! There were no longer any barriers between them; no longer any secrets, or questions. They were a unity-and that unity could survive any debasement these two sex-crazed fiends could subject them to.
"What's all this about fighting and surviving?" Larry Webb asked mockingly. "You girls seem to have the wrong idea about us. Why, we're not out to hurt anybody, are we Spencer?"
"No sirreee, Larry boy, we sure aren't." Spencer watched as Larry pulled Laura off the cot, so that they were all four now nakedly and salaciously displayed on the blankets covering the floor. "Love, baby, that's what it's all about ... lots of loving!"
"That's right," Larry laughed. "Marge ... you're going to suck Spencer's cock, and I'm going to fuck little Laura like she's never been fucked before! I'm going to fuck her in the ass!"
Marge felt sick inside, at the thought of again taking Spencer's thick shaft of male flesh into her mouth, and she could almost taste the lewd residue of the burning cum he had shot between her lips only a few hours before. But even more she was terrified for her daughter, of what Larry was going to do to her.
"No, not that ... you can't!"
"Don't worry, Mother ... I can take it...." Laura said bravely, secretly feeling a twinge of excitement through her already aroused loins at the prospect of this novel experience. And she leaned slowly over to her mother, once again grazing against her openly displayed cuntal lips as if in affirmation of that bond between them.
"That's right, Laura suck your mother off, while I get you ready for the greatest fuck of your life!" Larry said from behind her, and maneuvered Laura's body up over her mother's, who Spencer pushed down on her back on the blankets.
Laura knelt over her mother's quivering loins, her own naked ass-cheeks salaciously displayed to Larry Webb's lustful gaze. Then, suddenly, she felt an alien finger probing the tightly puckered opening which her mother had so beautifully kissed a moment ago. Her ex-boyfriend's middle finger prodded cruelly, making her wince and jerk forward a bit as he burrowed into her defenseless anus. Then suddenly his finger entered and it didn't hurt her the way she'd anticipated it would, but instead sent a new, surprising pleasure expelling through her loins. Larry moved his finger around in the tight but expanding hole, worming it lewdly in and out, ever widening her tiny rectum. Laura found herself wiggling her hips back against it, her mouth dipping at the same time into her mother's cunt in front of her.
Marge had, when pushed down, come to a semi-squatting position, her legs wide and her thighs spread so that she was sprawled with her pussy just under her daughter's mouth, and she propped herself up on her elbows, her head swimming, her loins stretched for all to see and lust after. She was too dazed, too horrified, too controlled by the forces of her unspent sex to fight off the unfolding events. All she could do was moan involuntarily as Larry parted her teenage daughter's trembling white buttocks and levered his middle finger into her tight virginal asshole, and then Laura was lowering her face to her openly palpitating cunt, and her daughter began to tongue the moist pink slit again, sending out acute tinglings shooting wildly through her, and her earlier cries were one long, abandoned moan as Laura lashed with her tongue and hotly teased her excitedly jumping clitoris. Marge could only writhe and churn helplessly with the delicious and lewd sucking in her vagina, for despite the abhorrence her mind and spirit had for this partnership in group orgy, she couldn't stop herself from loving the warm kissing of her daughter, and she moved up on the cot again to a better position, giving Laura greater access to her openly flowered genitals., "Mmmmmm!" her daughter moaned, slavering delightedly in the wetly seething cunt of her mother. She felt Larry remove his finger, the rubbery skin of her anus clinging softly to it, and then she quivered with anticipation, drawing her knees wider apart so that she could present him with the wider stretched mounds of her buttocks. And then the girl felt her ex-boyfriend move closer and blow hotly in between her thighs, teasing her with lewd anticipatory nuzzlings against her tight, hairless anal muscle, driving her wild ... then he pressed the smooth, rubbery tip of his cock into the tiny hairless channel, Laura felt his foreskin being stretched back against his long, thick shaft of flesh as it slowly wormed its way up into her rectum, past the tiny barrier of tightly clutching muscle.
"Aggg!" she screamed. "It hurts! You're too big! God Almighty, Larry, you're too big!"
"Push back and shut up, you little bitch!" the man commanded harshly.
God, I'm helpless! I can't move! Laura could barely think, but she knew that everywhere was pain and more pain, so she pushed back in hopes of alleviating some of the bursting pressure in her rectum. He was much too huge inside her, widening her buttocks until she thought she would split down the middle, right down her spinal column! The lust-hardened penis surged right up into her warm, rubbery depths, and finally all the way until she was sure it was lodged all the way up in her throat.
"Ohhhh, ohhh, ohhh," she gasped.
Larry Webb's own masochistic joy was almost unbearable as he watched his long, thick cock skewering lewdly up between the soft white moons of her buttocks, the pink edges wet with its own secretions. Spencer was momentarily entranced by the lascivious sight of Laura on her hands and knees, her small anus wrapped tightly around Larry's cock with several inches of it engorged in her rectum, her head and beautiful long blonde hair a mass of wild entanglement as she wildly sucked her own mother's cunt spread wide on the blanket before her.
Marge was totally absorbed in fascinated agony by the sight of this man sodomizing her only daughter on and on, and as she stared in subservient anguish at the lickings of her defenselessly widespread genitals, she was staggered by the forbidden pleasures she felt.
Laura was moaning her muffled cries of pain in a tone which left little doubt that she was beginning to enjoy it! Her hips were moving backwards of their own volition, meeting Larry's hard-thrusting penis willingly now. Marge continued to watch her humiliated young daughter undulate her buttocks in tiny lewd circles, and it was too much for her not to find it all horribly delightful-and weird thoughts grew in her mind, swamping her flesh and driving away the last vestiges of restraint. Fear, self-guilt, hatreds-they were all replaced by desire, desire that made her belly churn and stimulating waves of excitement pour over her, and her passions overflowed all bounds as she twisted in the evil grip of her sexual agony, writhing and arching so as not to break with the open mouth glued hotly to her ravaged cunt, while Laura's flicking tongue played wantonly over her clitoris and vagina.
"Ahhhhh!" Laura groaned with each inch of throbbing male flesh was forced into her hot rubbery rear passage from behind. "Aggghhh!" she screamed as she thought how beautiful, how wonderful the pain was. I'm being punished! Yes! I'm being punished the only way I can be! She ground her buttocks back and the huge penis burrowed its relentless way right up into her unstretched rectum. There! All the way! She could feel Larry's pubic hair against her white, fleshy, buttocks and she knew that she'd taken all of his cock in her anus. Oh God! It's so wonderfully terrible! The blunt intrusion of his thickly swollen cock vibrated through every sinew of her, and the soft spongy flesh of her widely stretched anal passage was excruciating in the pleasure-pain that filled her ceaselessly. She took one hand away from her mother's wide splayed thighs, hungry for more, and pressed it into the throbbing golden mass of her own pubic hair and thrust her middle finger far up into the opened wet slit of her cunt, feeling Larry's sperm filled balls batter the back of her hand; she groaned with her breath caught in her throat at the added sensation, feeling his massive cock through the thin wall separating her vagina and rectum. She slipped her finger in and out of her aching young pussy as she raised and lowered her hips, the fire in her loins increasing and her cunt demanding more than just one finger. She inserted two, and then three, cramming them up into her seething wet vagina in rhythm with the huge, lust-engorged penis that was fucking her tortured anus relentlessly.
Marge's young teenage daughter was delirious with delight. She was finger-fucking herself while Larry's wonderful cock drove with animalistic fire hard up between her cruelly split ass-cheeks, and she was completely and hopelessly impaled, her breasts throbbing like his lewdly slapping balls. She moved her head from between her mother's open thighs for an instant, looking down between her obscenely dancing breasts and beyond her belly to where her fingers were absorbed deep in her hungrily sucking cunt, and then the pretty young girl swept downward again, flicking her tongue several times against her mother's clitoris, then downward still more to the joyfully offered opening of her hair-covered vagina, plunging far enough in to feel the rippled walls of hot flesh which had once been stretched with herself when she was born, and she taunted the satin-smooth valley down between her mother's milk-white thighs with salacious delight. Oh ... this is wonderful ... the taste of my mothers cunt ... I love it! I love her....
Marge chanted with her mind out of control now. "Ohhh! Ohhh!" she moaned, but while her sane mind rebelled at being sucked by her daughter while watching Laura being fucked in the ass by Larry Webb, she couldn't even consider stopping the loving caresses and warm kisses. Her cunt flowered open wider and wider and her hotly seeping moisture increased with each further second that her daughter's voraciously sucking lips moved around, in and up her vaginal orifice, and warm trickles of saliva and female moisture ran unhindered down her softly quivering thighs as she ground her hips upwards into Laura's madly slavering mouth. She had never known anything so soft and wonderful in her life! Her body, lithe and firm and warmly pink with blood pumping desire, shook from the assault on her senses and genitals; she had lain dormant too long, and the shock of sexual abandonment and the acceptance of her own young daughter as her lover forever ruptured her past. Gone were the frustrated days that now seemed so unreal and far away, the reality of the present encompassing her mind and taking her to another existence of pure ecstasy, which she wholeheartedly accepted.
Spencer could no longer take the lust-inciting scene of Laura sucking her mother's cunt while his friend fucked the girl demonically from behind. He straddled the mother, making Marge balance herself by placing her hands behind her and almost sitting up, her thighs split wide and her legs bent for more of her daughter's lewd suckings. He placed his hand behind Marge's head and pushed her toward his lust-hardened penis, rubbing it around her lips, making her mouth wet with his excited male secretions. She mumbled in refusal and tried to shake away, but he held her so tightly she couldn't move, and then with his other hand he forced open her mouth; she clenched her teeth, but Spencer wasn't to be denied, and increasing the pressure and arching his muscled buttocks, he crushed his thick cock against the soft, moist lips and into the warm wet cavern of her hollowing cheeks.
Marge closed her eyes, feeling numb and in a dazed trance, the strange man's hairs at the base of his penis rubbing her chin and lips. His hands held her in a vise-like grip, and he started sliding his demanding cock slowly in and out; she could feel its rubbery cock-head along the ridges of the roof of her mouth, and the long sperm-filled ridge running beneath the length of his fleshy shaft slip along her tongue. She heard Spencer command harshly:
"Suck, you damned bitch! Suck hard!"
She did, her lips slowly beginning to nibble at his thickly thrusting penis, and though she coughed and sputtered at first, she accustomed herself to his perverted invasion, and tried not to think of what she was doing. His bloated testicles bounced against her chin, and her nostrils filled with the flavor of his masculinity, and saliva grew in her mouth, becoming sticky from his small emissions of seminal fluid. She could tell that he was jerking his hips and straining his loins against her mouth, and his short, stubby fingers were curled tightly in her hair, forcing her obscenely bobbing mouth up over the full length of his turgid erection.
His penis stretched and expanded until there wasn't any room left in her mouth, but instead of feeling repulsion and sickness, she was enjoying sucking his cock. The foaming passions which had been re-awakened and expressed in new, wondrous fashions, were now boiling out of control, and she allowed her mind to sink still further into the cauldron of her lusts. On her own, she raised a hand, her balance kept by Spencer's clutching hands on her, and brought it around and up his legs to the soft, resilient skin of his scrotum, and she crooned mutely as she sucked, tenderly massaging his softly dangling balls while flicking her tongue across the tiny split of his cock-head, opening her throat wider to accept still more of his pumping wet penis, rolling it around in her butter soft interior, making him cry out with pure delight. She'd never dreamed of what she'd been missing all these years! So good! Oh, Christ, she'd been a fool for so long!
Laura's hand was still back between her open legs, three fingers buried deep in the hot, soaking passage of her cunt as she bucked and jerked against Larry's pummeling cock, striving for passionate release. Her body was on fire with passion, for never could she recall being this excited! She looked up to watch as Marge's soft, ovaled mouth clasped greedily at Spencer's swelling penis, her thin, tensile rim of lips clinging to it as though held there by some unseen clamp. She could see thick, white fluid dripping from the corners of Marge's mouth and running in tiny lines down her chin, for her mother was reveling in the cruel humiliation that Spencer was subjecting her to, a masochistic light shining strangely in her glazed eyes.
Marge's beautiful young daughter heaved herself with increased fury up and down on Larry's powerful rod, her hips undulating madly, her left hand streaking in through the hair-lined lips of her young cuntal slit, both of her rear orifices flowering to the delicious rape of mind and body. She buried her face deep in the curl covered vagina of her mother once again, sucking and licking frantically on the fleshy protuberances of pink cunt glistening there, her thick wet tongue voraciously drawing every drop of her mother's joyously secreting juices in lewd delight, her tender but voluptuous body matching the rhythms of the other threesome.
For long, frozen moments the naked lovers remained that way, each straining every fiber and nerve of their beings for their orgasms, their only sounds grunts, mewls, and sighs of billowing desire, and the slapping of slippery, passion-slick flesh. It seemed as if they would go on forever, striving for but never quite achieving their releases.
Then....
Strangled noises forced their way from Spencer's tortured gullet, and he knew that he would be the one to start the chain of orgasms with the cum which was rolling upward from his seething balls. A moment now ... a moment ... now! He writhed his hips furiously and watched Marge's lovely face work, her lips sucking, his fever pitched penis soaring, his body straining with the needles of his climax. White hot sperm rushed through his penis and squirted in never ending streams deep up into her hotly yearning mouth, and she gulped greedily, swallowing and sucking on furiously while he emptied his cum in surge after surge, his cock shoved still harder down her throat....
Marge thrust her loins up at her daughter's superbly licking mouth which was still buffeting her vaginal passage, every muscle in her body contracting wildly as she rose up involuntarily and nearly fainted from the attack of her contraction. She gulped and swallowed, savoring the taste of the bittersweet semen as it wormed its way like an ambrosia brandy down to her belly, and her cunt opened and clenched like an angry fist around Laura's tongue, her buttocks flexing to rock-hardness as her orgasm hit. She gurgled and wailed an unintelligible scream as the power of her body unleased from deep in her chest at this moment she had been craving for. There was no time, no space, no motion only the unbelievable pleasure of her climax, and she was struck again and again by the spasmodic twitchings of every muscle in her body....
And as she came, so did Larry. He threw back his head and groaned as he thrust his cock's full expanded length into the teenage daughter's wide-stretched anus, his body beginning to jerk convulsively as he clawed at Laura's waist with harsh, clutching fingers, pulling her buttocks even wider apart for his penis to skewer yet another fraction of an inch into her. He felt his boiling semen amassing within his throbbing balls as they beat a tattoo against Laura's beautifully naked ass. And the explosion imminent, he slammed his now spewing cock all the way to its hilt in her softly unresisting rectum....
To Laura, this was a heaven sent miracle, a well to quell the maddening devils rampaging deep within the core of her womanhood. She cared not who it was ... only that his cock was finding refuge in her starving belly, and she wanted it to crawl in there and stay forever. She licked and sucked shamelessly at the delectable cunt before her, and heard her mouth cry out and the other groan gutturally and yell mindlessly, but it was all in the faint background of her mind; her lover was hammering her with rapid, pile driving thrusts and her fingers were reaching her very womb, and she licked and sucked wildly. Oh Christ ... don't stop now ... I want to cum so badly.
And then she felt the stream of hot seed spurting into her rectum, spurting far up in her belly with violent force, ricocheting against her smooth rubbery anal passage, its steaming heat finally setting off her own, long due climax.
She screamed, and screamed again and again, her release was that great. She heaved her nakedly jerking buttocks back toward the humping man's penis as it continued to empty into her anus with unbelievable force, her thighs trembling and her stomach quaking as if someone were pressing against it with giant pressures, her brain reeling insanely with the sensual reaction traversing her spine. She fell forward at last, Larry's limp cock sliding from her tortured rectum slickly, and she cradled herself with sighing satisfaction in her mother's naked arms, and let her lips close softly over one of her turgid nipples. She sucked the nipple as greyness closed over her, feeling the contentment of a baby after milk....
It took some time for the four naked people to stir. They huddled on the blanket, exhausted and unmoving, resting and regathering strength after the wild orgiastic fucking they had just participated in. Semen and perspiration and female cum mingled and glistened on their shining bodies and on the dampened blanket beneath them, the air seeming to crackle with the lewd emotions and desires that had been unleashed.
Spencer was the first to move. He crawled over to where Larry lay, completely, spent from his sexual exertions. Spencer grinned at him as though they shared some kind of secret.
"How you feel, Larry my boy?"
Larry Webb looked up at him, and chuckled.
"Well, it was good for appetizers ... but I'm ready to start on the main course now."
"My sentiments exactly, Larry, my sentiments exactly," Spencer agreed, and they both turned to leer at the huddled bodies of the two naked women they had just so completely subjugated.
Marge stared at them unbelievingly, and held Laura tighter to her breast. But then she saw the smile of happiness radiating from her daughter's young face, a smile intended only for her, a smile that said more than a thousand words could convey. And the warmth of that smile dissolved in an instant all the shame and remorse, the guilt and inhibitions which had fettered her for so long; and as she returned Laura's loving gaze, Marge knew instinctively that, no matter what happened to them now, their future was going to be a future together, a future with and for one another, a future that promised peace and happiness for both.
Strengthened by this realization, the two women turned bravely as one, to face the two grinning, leering men, who had already begun to advance on them once again.
THE END
EPILOGUE
The novel ends here-but the Morgan's story does not.
Marge and Laura left the commune called the Zodiac the very next morning, after having convinced Spencer to give them the car keys, and drove straight to Miami. Within two weeks, Marge had given up her job at the Spear Construction Co., and the two had moved to the Midwest, where they hoped to find a secluded haven in which they could ignore the outside world, and concentrate only on themselves. This they did indeed find, in a relatively small town in southern Kansas.
Their past, Florida and the commune, the traumatic experiences they underwent together, have all been forgotten now, and they live together in a small frame house, each working at small jobs and keeping the house like a pair of loving sisters. The small town they're living in suspects nothing of the beautiful, and yet socially unacceptable relationship that binds them, and Marge and Laura are careful to keep that relationship hidden from the sometimes prying eyes of their neighbors. But life is again joyful for them, after the untold misery of that fateful weekend in Ft. Lauderdale, and neither of them could be happier.
And what of the future?
As Laura told me in a letter she wrote after reading this manuscript: "Our future is now, and we both know that. Life changes, and people change with it. You ask how long we will be content with our present life? I can only answer that, as of now, the present, we are happy and content, but who knows how tomorrow will find us? We do not make the mistake of building our lives around tomorrow's dreams-we have found that today is enough of a world to live in...."
And so Marge and Laura Morgan, mother and daughter, continue, for the time being at any rate, to soar through life on the wings of their special love for each other. It is a love which includes sex, as every true love must; but I, for one, will not judge them on that count. They are living their own lives, free from emotional restraints and inhibitions, sufficient unto themselves, looking into the future without fear, secure in the knowledge that the joy of the present is well worth the insecurity of the future ... and how many of us can say the same thing?
Marge and Laura Morgan: two small, unimportant people. And yet two inspiring examples of the kind of free, self-sufficient life that beckons us all forward, to test our courage and stamina in the pursuit of its ever receding happiness. Will we ever reach it? Who can say ... but perhaps the Morgan's story will give some of us the courage we need to keep on trying.
