The majority of today's men and women live in an overcrowded, competetive, noisy world. Most are put into slots and walk on a treadmill-going to boring jobs, living in carbon-copy houses, socializing with the same people. Their desperation is reflected in the rising rate of divorce, alcoholism, drug addiction, and at times is frighteningly released through the violent and seemingly unmotivated crime.
The fictional characters in THE FAMILY'S HOT LESSONS are desperate people, like their real-life counterparts. Bored, frustrated, unhappy, they seize at the first opportunity for release. In their need, they cast aside morals and scruples, determined to live only for the moment, to grab at pleasure before it is taken away.
THE FAMILY'S HOT LESSONS is a novel about the "quiet desperation" in so many of us-and the extremes to which it may drive us.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Vic Wetzel poured salt into his beer, swirled the liquid in the tall glass, tossed it down his throat in a refreshing gulp. Another day, another $46.80. "Bring me another," he told Jimmy, behind the bar. A moment later he was refilling his glass with cold Falls City.
From the jukebox came the sound of Crystal Gayle singing "River Road." He'd seen Crystal Gayle on TV the other night. Something else altogether. Young, and so nice! Hair down to her ass. He really liked that. Reminded him of Nancy, the way her hair hung down, long enough to swish the backs of her thighs when she let it fall loose and free. The song played to its finish but all Vic could see was that hair, swinging and swaying. Whose hair was it? Crystal's? Or Nancy's? Vic frowned into his beer. A man shouldn't be having those kind of thoughts. Especially about his own daughter.
Nancy. Just sixteen, young and sweet, with pink, scrubbed skin and the bluest eyes God had ever put in a woman's face and a face that belonged on a magazine cover. Christ, he thought, Nancy is worth it all, worth having to marry her mother, worth working my ass off for! He stared into his beer and he saw his daughter, the way she'd looked on Sunday, out in the yard, sunning on the grass, and the top of her bikini pants had slipped a little. He was in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, and he looked out the window, and he could see half the crack of her ass showing, and his guts tightened inside him and he clenched at the water glass so hard it was a wonder he hadn't crushed it.
She had a long lean body, like all kids nowadays, he supposed, but it was a special one as far as Vic was concerned. Her tits were-should he even be thinking the word "tits" about her?-her tits were like round apples, set nice and high on her chest, and she liked to go around without any brassiere, so that if you looked close enough you could see the points of her nipples plain as day. Her waist was very slim and tiny, flaring out into a sweet little butt, and when she wore those skintight jeans of hers, the ones that were all faded and frayed and so tight it was a miracle they didn't just split to hell and gone when she squeezed herself into them-Vic stirred on his bar stool and he swallowed the cold beer in a hurry, hoping it would cool his boiling innards. It wasn't right to be thinking that way, but he couldn't stop himself.
Had he ever felt that way about Nancy's mother? He couldn't remember. Deanna Leeson was the third girl he'd ever fucked. She was seventeen, just out of high school, and he was twenty-one, back from his time in the army. Four or five dates before she put out, but when she did! Hot damn! He still remembered the way her pussy snugged around him, in the back seat of his old Studebaker up on the ridge between Bethel and Miracle Run, that hot summer night, both of them sweating, their clothes half off, her pussy hair all wet and soppy against his belly while he worked in and out of her with his horny, hard cock. The way she moaned and squirmed and juiced on his peter, slinked a leg around him to pull him tighter, deeper, into her snatch. She was a virgin, or had been until he put his cock in her, and the feel of fresh, new meat around his dick sent spasms of excitement racing through him. She could fuck, goddamn her, she could fuck!
And when he fired off deep in her belly she collapsed against him, and he knew that she was coming too. He'd fucked a couple of whores in the army, given his cherry to one, but that was whore-fucking. Five dollars bought you fifteen minutes in a sloppy, well-used cunt. It excited him to feel Deanna going wild, and he held her tightly, pumping his scum up her sucking hole. He should have known that two months later she'd come around and tell him that she was pregnant, she'd missed two periods, and he had to do something! So he married her. Christ! One wrong step and a man was fucked for life. The times when he should have been out raising hell, when he might have gone to California or Arizona or someplace where it was really happening, he was putting in eight hours and coming home to the wife and baby.
On the other hand, he thought, pouring the rest of the beer into his glass, there was so much pleasure in watching Nancy grow up. He'd wanted a boy. Every man did. And he'd been disappointed at first, learning that his and Deanna's child was a girl. But she was so pretty, even as a baby, and she'd grown up into a beautiful girl, his girl.
He salted his beer and remembered how it had happened, how almost overnight she'd sprouted up, tall and limber, her body taking shape. Little titties beginning to blossom on her chest, butt filling out, legs curving into the right shape, and him watching, full of marvel and awe. Who'd have thought, that night when he squirted his jizz into Deanna, that it would bear such lovely fruit. Vic's balls began to ache and he stirred about on his stool. "Bring me another beer," he said. "And a sack of pretzels, too."
Jimmy brought them. "Big doings up your way," he said, taking Vic's money. "Was listenin' to the scanner this afternoon. Coupla them bikers held up the gas station at Basnettsville, vrooooomed off big as you please. What's this country comin' to, I wanna know? Did that kind of crap go on in our days?" He shook his head. "No respect for law and order, no respect for nothin'."
Basnettsville? Vic thought. That was just across the ridge from home. What the hell was the world coming to? 'They catch 'em?"
Jimmy shook his head, wiped at the bar with a damp cloth. "Got away scott-free. Or at least they had, last time I listened to the scanner. Hell, they always get away. And if they do catch 'em, that piss-ass judge down at the county seat will just pat 'em on the wrists and tell 'em 'Now boys, you better be good'."
Deanna was out at the house by herself, he thought. But hell, those bikers were in Pennsylvania by now, the other direction from home. And even if they weren't, did he care a whole lot? He wasn't sure. It was funny how a marriage could go sour, how it made you wish you didn't have to go home at all.
Worst was, it wasn't much Deanna's fault. She was a good wife, he supposed, though she was the only wife he'd ever had, and he couldn't compare her with anybody else. He hadn't really wanted to marry her in the first place, but he'd done the right thing, and of course, Nancy made it all seem worthwhile, once she started to walk and talk. The big trouble was, he just didn't want to fuck Deanna any longer. Not even when she crawled all over him in bed and slinked her legs around him and let him feel her wet pussy and even slid down and started to suck his tool hard. She was almost thirty-four, and he was pushing forty, and he felt so goddamned old lying in bed with her. He didn't want to feel old. Especially when he looked at Nancy, at the way her butt wiggled when she walked, the way her tits jiggled softly under those clingy t-shirts she liked to wear with nothing underneath. Christ! Smooth cotton hugging her round little boobs, making the fat nipples stick out, big, impossible not to look at, even when he tried not to look-he'd long since stopped trying.
Goddamn it, he told himself, she's your daughter! And she's just a kid! You shouldn't be thinking about those kind of things! He poured down half his beer in one cold gulp and as it rolled into his stomach he thought, she'd not a kid. She's sixteen. She's almost a woman. She looks like a woman, she walked like a woman, she wears her clothes like a woman.
He salted his beer again and found himself wondering, as he usually did after a couple of beers, if anyone had gotten into Nancy's pants. He didn't think so. He hoped not. If he knew some pimple-faced little high school fart was touching his daughter, that boy would be stone ass dead. The thought clung, however, and it left a sour taste in Vic's mouth. He tried to wash it away with beer, but all he could see was Nancy, lying naked, her legs wrapped around some skinny, long-haired, dope-smoking high school boy. His fist clenched around the beer glass, the way it had clenched when he saw her in the backyard with half her ass on display. His nuts were really hurting now. Jim Ed Brown and Helen Cornelius were singing from the jukebox. It was getting on to six o'clock, and he really should be heading for home. But he didn't feel like going, not just yet.
Vic slid round on his stool and surveyed the row of booths along the far wall. Tonya Boyer had just come in, and she was in the act of planting her sweet young ass onto the padded seat of the booth by the jukebox. She looked up at him and smiled, the way she always did, a wet-lipped smile, turned up at the corners, and maybe it was just a way of saying "Hi" and maybe it was something else. He didn't know, but he always got a funny feeling in his gut when she looked at him and smiled and he saw the glitter of her brown eyes. Brown, like Nancy's. Big, brown eyes, sparkling eyes. She was just a year or so older than Nancy, they'd gone to high school together, been on the majorette squad. He'd gone to school with Tonya's old man, Don Boyer.
She worked at the plant now, as a file clerk in the office, but they were always sending her down into the work area on some errand or other, and she was built well enough to take a guy's mind off his job while she was passing by, her little butt switching, her tits high and prominent under the clinging tops she favored. She always seemed to have a special "hello" and smile for Vic Wetzel. He'd heard that Tonya banged like a shithouse door in a gale. Something told him that if he tried, he could even get a piece of that ripe, eighteen-year-old nookie for himself.
"Hi, Mr. Wetzel," she said, leaning against him where he sat on his bar stool. Her tits were hard and taut under her sweater, but there was more than a hint of yielding suppleness where they touched his shoulder, and he felt that tightness in his guts. He nodded, smiled, asked how she was doing. "Just fine," she said, shrugging. Her hair was shoulder length, tousled. "But there's always room for improvement, mmm?"
Jimmy brought her a beer. When she pushed the money toward the bartender, her tits brushed Vic once again, and this time he could feel the stirring presence of a nipple, taut inside her bra. She must be wearing one of those skimpy little nylon jobs, like Nancy wore sometimes. He'd seen them in the laundry, about as light as a piece of tissue and as transparent as Saran Wrap. Christ!
"Well, see you, I guess," Tonya said, standing by him a moment longer. Her weight was on her left leg and her body slouched, but it was a lissome, graceful slouch. She brushed at her hair, smiled again, and went back to her booth. I could have had her, Vic thought, watching her ass jiggle in her hip-snug pants. But he couldn't have. Christ, she was a kid, just a kid, even if she was all woman everywhere it seemed to count. He knew her father. She knew his daughter.
But word was, she fucked, and she'd fuck almost anything, if you believed the stuff you heard on the assembly line. If you believed that, well, it would seem most all girls were like that nowadays. Not Nancy, though. Nancy was special. Vic turned back to his beer, and he thought of Nancy running around the house last night in a pair of bikini bottoms and a halter made out of a flashy purple scarf tied around her tits. If you looked close, you could almost see the big pink tips of her nipples, showing through the thin wisp of purple. He'd looked, and he felt like a bastard, but he'd looked. He closed his eyes now, lifted the glass to his mouth, poured it down. It was almost six o'clock. Deanna would have supper ready by the time he got home.
"See you, Mr. Wetzel," Tonya said as he passed her booth. There was a certain something in her voice, he couldn't say for sure what it was, but it made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. She was so young, but it seemed as if everything she did was to advertise the face that she was on the make. Right there, in the open. Were all girls like that today?
He wondered if Tonya was taking the pill. Probably. Most girls were, if you believed everything you heard and read. They hadn't had the pill when Vic was that age. If they had, his life might not have been what it was today. He might not be a married man, tied down to a job he hated and a wife he had never really loved but had married because she was pregnant and he had to marry her. But he wouldn't have Nancy. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he rounded a corner.
When was it, about a week ago? He'd gone to sleep, same as always, started having weird dreams, really weird ones, and he shook himself awake, and there she was, Deanna, the covers thrown back and she had his dick out of his shorts and she was sucking the hell out of it. Christ! He'd always thought women dried up in the pussy as they got older, but not his old lady. The guys at the shop used to bitch about their wives always being on the rag or having headaches. He wished to fuck Deanna would get a headache sometime. She was turning into a fucking sex maniac. And the worst of it was, he just wasn't interested that much any more. Once she'd sent away from a catalog and bought herself some underwear, a bra with the ends cut away so her nipples stuck out, and a pair of panties with no crotch, just a long, red-frilled gash in the sheer black nylon so that her pussy hair stuck out, and she'd paraded around the bedroom, simpering like Susanne Somers, and he thought, Christ, doesn't she know she is thirty-two years old? What the hell is with her, anyway?
That's the same thing he'd wondered as he looked down and saw her sucking his bone. And he did have a bone. His pecker was up big and hard in her mouth and she was squeezing his balls. And when she saw that his eyes were open, and he was awake, she looked up, licking her lips as if she'd really enjoyed eating him. Then she hoisted up her nightgown, and she'd taken off her panties already, and she just crawled onto him, sliding her twat down over his dick, moaning as he struck home in her cunt. "Oh, do it, honey," she'd purred, putting her hands on his hard, hairy chest, grinding down with them while she ground down on his cock with her pussy, and he'd found himself fucking her almost automatically, without a goddamned bit of choice in it. She moved her shoulders, and the straps of her nightie fell loose, the gown slipped, and her tits bobbed out, the brown nipples pointing out in stiff, lusty erections. "Feel me," she invited, taking his hand, pulling it up to her tits. She angled her face down and kissed the backs of his fingers while she dragged them across her boobs, and her face was getting red, and for maybe the millionth time he asked himself, how the hell did I ever let myself get into this?
Not that Deanna was such a bitch. She wasn't. And maybe that was the worst of all. He just didn't feel anything for her any longer. And he wasn't sure if he ever had. She'd been a good fuck, a great fuck, the time he broke her cherry and made her pregnant with Nancy, but....
Nancy. He closed his eyes as Deanna rode him, swaying and moaning, and he remembered how Nancy had looked lying in the backyard. The long legs, the smooth, tight skin, the crack of her ass half bared where the pants of her bikini rode too low. The way he'd stood motionless by the window looking out at her, his fist clenching on the glass he held. The way his face had reddened, his breathing had gotten raspy. Deanna's pussy rippled up and down his cock in muscular swallows, eating him time and again, pulling him this way and that as she worked out her middle-of-the-night lust, but his mind was nowhere near the place his cock had gone. Nancy, he thought. Oh, baby, baby, baby! He hated himself for even thinking it, God how he hated himself!
But Deanna's pussy seemed to tighten fiercely around him, and it wasn't the slightly loose, moist thirty-four-year-old pussy he was used to fucking, it was a fresh, young, smooth, tight hole, and his cock was suddenly in glory. He closed his fist down on her tit and he grabbed her thigh hard and he began to pump up, ferociously, savagely, fucking the demons out of his mind-or trying to. "Vic!" she moaned, plummeting down upon him, and "Nancy!" he thought, stabbing upward. His orgasm was almost immediate, a bursting of his cock and his nuts and he groaned from the guts upward. While Deanna rocked atop him, moaning, sobbing, and he knew she hadn't gotten there yet, but he could have cared less. His cock began to soften inside her and he closed his eyes, and she slid off him, cum dripping from her pussy, and he thought he heard her make a choking sound, almost like she was starting to cry, but he didn't open his eyes.
He turned off Route 250 at Rachel, took the right-hand fork in town and the lefthand fork at the bridge. The roads had gone to hell last couple of years. Rockefeller had spent millions getting himself elected governor, promising to fix the goddamn roads, but Vic was hitting chuckholes that had been fucking up the road since 1976 and would still be here at least till election time 1980.
"See?" he told himself. "You can think about something besides Nancy, if you just try." And as soon as he'd spoken, he knew it hadn't worked at all. The image of his daughter sprang back into his mind, more vibrant, more fetching than ever. Her moist red lips parted in a smile and her cameo face glowed, and she shook down her long golden hair, and she was wearing that little red bikini, the one that didn't quite cover her ass, and he saw her reach for the little bow that fastened the snug-fitting, triangular shaped bra top, saw her thumb tip hook inside the bow, saw it jerk-
The Ford hit a humongous big hole. Vic swore angrily. The holes got bigger, closer; you had to hit at least some of them unless you drove sideways along the bank. He wasn't far from home now. His house was the last one up Shaver's Run, a mile and a little more beyond Webb Fluharty, who lived in the next to last house. Wetzels had lived on the Run since 1825. Vic could stand on his front porch and piss into the yard if he wanted to, and no neighbors around to bitch about it. What more could a man ask for? Roads got icy in the winter, and when the weather was bad, he usually drove Nancy to school rather than trust her to the school bus. But the air was clean and you woke up to the sound of birds singing, and sometimes there were even deer on the ridge top behind the house, the winding hogback that separated Shaver's Run from Dunkard Mill, Bethel, and Basnettsville. It was quiet here, peaceful. He wondered if it would seem quite so idyllic when Nancy had married and gone away, though. His teeth gritted. She was sixteen, she was sort of going steady with that Bailey boy.
It was twenty past six and the shadows were lengthening into twilight when he parked in front of the house. Damn it, Deanna had left the fuckin' garage door open again! Fluharty's dogs would be in there next thing you knew, rooting around, waking him up in the middle of the night. He shut off the engine. His belly growled with hunger. He'd go out and shut the doors later, after he'd eaten. He went onto the porch, but the house seemed unusually quiet. He couldn't hear the television. Deanna had the goddamn thing on 24 hours a day, or so it seemed. He opened the door, and, as he did, he could hear sounds, deeper in the house.
Deanna. She was saying "Aaaaahhhh-ohhhhhgoddddddd!!!" all breathy and excited, with a choking sob in her voice, and he stopped in surprise.
And then there was another sound, one that chilled the blood in his veins to ice water. "Oh, Christ, holy fucking Christ!" Nancy! He couldn't mistake the sound of her voice. Had she really said what it sounded like she was saying? And if she had, what the hell was going on? Vic's legs were rubber, his guts turning upside down.
"Nancy!" he said sharply, and he started into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He didn't know what was happening but he was damn sure gonna find out! Fucking NOW!
"Are you in here? Is somebody in here?" he asked, his hand on the knob of Nancy's bedroom door. He heard the creak of bedsprings from inside, a muted whisper, a soft rustle of motion. "Oh, Jesus," Nancy moaned on the other side of the door. "Oh, like, wow!"
He opened the door and his bulging eyes had only a fraction of a second to take in the sight within the room before something heavy hit the back of his head and the whole world went dark. Vic was unconscious before he hit the floor. At least he didn't have to look at what he had just seen.
CHAPTER TWO
Deanna Wetzel felt as if her legs had turned to stone. She couldn't feel anything from her knees on down. She stood beside Nancy's dresser, holding the-things she had found in the top drawer, and she looked down at them again and she still couldn't believe it.
In one hand she was clutching a long-seven inches-conical-tipped object, made of white plastic and hollow inside. It was thick in her fist and she knew what it was. It was a vibrator. They were advertised as providing perfect relief for tired, weary muscles. Deanna Wetzel was a woman and she knew what kind of muscle relief vibrators like this one were used for. She'd seen them occasionally, peeking through those magazines full of naked women that Vic brought home from time to time. Panting girls, their legs wide spread, their groins arched up toward the camera, vibrators exactly like this one thrust visibly into their furry holes. Their cunts, she told herself. Things like this aren't used on holes. They're used on cunts. And wouldn't Vic's eyes bulge if he even suspected that she was thinking a word like "cunt"?
But the vibrator, which she'd found stuffed under a stack of the bras Nancy rarely wore any longer, wasn't nearly the worst of it. No. What Deanna held in her other hand was worse, so much worse it made her stomach turn over in revulsion. She dropped the vibrator back into the drawer, took a deep breath, looked down at the stack of pictures, and she shivered. "My God," she said aloud. "My God."
She hadn't gone snooping. Not at all. This morning she'd gone to the laundromat, and, coming home, it seemed much easier to put away the clothes she'd washed. God know, Daddy's little princess couldn't be bothered with anything so mundane as cleaning up her room or putting her clothes where they belonged. So she'd come in here with the basket of Nancy's things and started filing them in the drawers, and she had opened the top drawer of the dresser, intending to put away Nancy's collection of flowered bikini panties and sheer step-in bras, and by accident her finger had bumped the round hard plastic shape of the big vibrator, at the very bottom of the drawer. She'd taken it out, stared at it with goggle eyes, not believing even as she saw it that her own daughter would have something like this stashed away in her dresser. And then she'd found the envelope full of pictures.
There must have been twenty or more, three or four packs of Polaroid snapshots. The envelope hadn't been sealed, and she'd only picked it up inadvertently. All girls had picture collections around. But one of the prints had fallen out of the envelope and Deanna's already bulging eyes had goggled out even wider, bigger.
For the second or third time she leafed through the stack of pictures, and she found it no easier to believe them this time than she had the first time.
All of them were of Nancy, and the only one that didn't make Deanna crimson with same was the first one-the one where Nancy stood draped in her long golden hair, using it to shield her breasts and crotch like Eve in an old painting. In every picture Nancy was stark naked, flaunting her body at the camera and the photographer. She made smug, knowing faces at the lens, she cupped her tits as if she were offering them to the glass lens of the Polaroid earners. She squeezed her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, her eyes dreamily half-shut, her lips pursed in a silent ooohing moan that was almost audible to Deanna as she stared at the photograph.
And those weren't the worst. In the shelter of trees and shrubbery Nancy had cavorted shamelessly in front of that camera. Stripped to the skin, she had flaunted anf flounced, turning this way and that, exposing all of herself. She'd turned around, leaned forward from her waist with her legs spread widely. She'd sat crosslegged on the grass, playing with her titties and making seductive smiles. She'd even leaned back, stretched out on her ass, with her legs up and open, her fingers down-down there! Pulling herself open, exposing the privacy of her pussy itself to the camera's inquisitive eye. Some of the photos were taken from such a close distance that Deanna had no trouble discerning every facet and detail of her daughter's cunt-even the stiff, visible clitoris itself. One shot-Deanna's face tingled with shame and embarrassment-one shot had Nancy posed with the tip of her finger inserted in the red mouth of her cuntal hole. Only the tip, and the nail, but there was a visible tension at the wrist, as if Nancy were on the verge of ramming her finger all the way up her cuntal tract.
"What would Vic say if he got a look at these?" she asked aloud. "Daddy's little girl in training to be a HUSTLER model?" No. She'd seen some of Vic's HUSTLERS. Many of these pictures were a little too strong even for Larry Flynt's disgusting magazine.
Well, to use one of Vic's sayings, the shit had hit the fan. She had not been meant to see these things, but she had seen them, and she couldn't ignore it. She and Nancy would have to have a talk. And this time the snippy little bitch was going to listen, not just smart-mouth and wiggle her ass out of the room in a huff!
"If her father hadn't been so doting," Deanna mused, "if the girl had simply been given a taste of discipline once in a while, instead of being allowed to have her own way all the time, if she hadn't been spoiled rotten almost from the day she was born...."
Or, she asked herself, could it be that Nancy was just no good? Sometimes she thought, unwillingly, that it really was the case. Deanna put down the pictures, laid them atop the envelope from which she'd taken them. Some kids were that way. God only knew what the world was coming to. Only this afternoon, coming home from the laundromat, she'd seen police cars racing down the highway-a couple of county and one state cruiser.
It was different now, different from everything she understood and believed in. "Catch me going around in a tight t-shirt and jeans, with no bra and no panties," she said. "My dad would have beaten me black and blue. When was the last time Nancy had on her underwear? And what did Vic say? "It looks kinda cute. Besides, she says all the girls go around that way." And what happened when Nancy overstayed her curfew, when she came in at one o'clock in the morning on a Saturday night? Nothing! That's what happened. Nothing! Except a little speech from Vic about how mom and dad worried when she wasn't home and she really should be in by midnight. What would Vic say if he were here now, looking at the secret contents of Nancy's dresser drawer? That they were cute?
It's not fair! Deanna thought. The drugs, the looseness, all of it! They didn't have those things when I was growing up! I'd no sooner have posed naked for a Polaroid camera than I would have gulped a can of beer in front of my father. She felt tears stinging in her eyes. Damn it, she thought, and then she said, "Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!!!" Her fist struck against the side of the dresser, and it hurt, but somehow it felt good too. At least she had something to strike.
Deanna turned away. When I was sixteen, she thought, I was worrying about whether I'd have a date for the homecoming dance and praying that my face didn't break out without warning again. I wasn't running around like some kind of little hotassed whore-
Her head swam then, and she understood what it meant. The knowledge had been there, but she had forced it to the back of her mind, refusing to confront it. Nancy. Daddy's little girl wasn't a virgin any longer. How could she be? A nice girl wouldn't pose for those pictures, wouldn't have that thing lying around. And, God, that really messed it up, didn't it? Yes, she was going to have to talk to her daughter, and if it took a ballbat, she would make the little slut listen this time!
Deanna's thoughts went back, over the years. I wasn't much older than she is now when it happened, she reminded herself. I was seventeen. Just a year older than Nancy. I was still a virgin then-at least until the night Vic and I parked on the ridge above Bethel and he kept kissing me and feeling me and begging me to let him do it, and I was in love, so much in love, that after a while I could only say yes, yes, yes! And he was on me like a shot, pulling up my dress, pulling down my pants, rubbing his crotch against me, letting me feel how big and hard he was inside his slacks, and I thought, maybe I shouldn't. I remember how scared I was when he let down his pants and I saw it for the first time. The first cock I'd ever seen. So big, so red, so hard.
I told him no, maybe I shouldn't, if you want, if you really want, I'll suck it for you. I've never sucked one, but Judy Snyder has and she told me all about it, and I'll suck it right until you're ready to squirt your stuff, I really will, if you want me to, but I'm afraid, Vic, I'm really afraid. What if I get pregnant or something? Not a chance, honey, he whispered, cuddling me, touching me in the places that made my pussy get all wet and sticky. His fingers all over me, twining through my hair, feeling my tight virginal crack, spreading it open and tickling me inside, so that gushes of excitement exploded in my lower belly, and then it didn't matter any longer, I wasn't scared, I was aroused, and I leaned closer, and he touched me with it, and almost before I knew what was happening, it was pushing its way into me, slow and easy, and there was that moment of pain, so much pain I gasped and cried out, and he covered my mouth with a kiss that drowned my scream.
He went deeper, and he touched something I hadn't even known I had, and our bellies were together, our hairs matting into tangled snarls as he ground against me, his cock fully buried in me, and his arms were around my body, his mouth on mine, and it didn't hurt any longer, it felt good, so good, so good I couldn't stand it, and I broke free of his lips and I howled, howled like a banshee, the kind my grandma used to tell me about in her old country stories, and we started doing it, started fucking, and I knew he wouldn't take it out of me, I wouldn't let him, I wanted it there forever, hard and stiff inside me where I was so tight and wet and tender. When he fired his gun up my belly, when his stuff began to coat the insides of me with his boiling hot man-stuff, I held him in a death-grip and I throbbed and quivered and moaned, and I was coming too, the first time I'd ever climaxed if you didn't count those times in bed when I used my fingers on myself even if it was naughty and horribly nasty too. It felt so much better now, doing it with him, doing it the way men and women were supposed to do it!
But only married men and women. Hadn't the proof of that come upon her almost at once? When she missed her next two periods and she and Vic had to get married fast? She smiled grimly. I should take Nancy up on Bethel ridge, she thought, and show her the spot where her father and I parked the night Vic squirted her into my belly. And now Nancy was sixteen, and sixteen didn't mean innocent the way it used to. She had to talk to her daughter. But what could she tell the girl? Not to go around fucking goys? If Nancy had started, she wasn't going to stop, not on her mother's advice. To use protection? It seemed so cold-blooded. But she had to tell the girl something. She and Nancy didn't like one another, but Deanna didn't want to see her daughter wind up the same way she had. Pregnant, shotgun-married, watching her life grow more empty with each passing day. She closed her eyes. Pregnant girls didn't even necessarily go through the shotgun wedding anymore.
She picked up the pictures, the vibrator too, and she went into the living room. It was almost three o'clock. Nancy would be home from school in another hour or so, depending on whether she rode the school bus or was driven by that Bailey boy. The Bailey boy! Deanna's mouth curled into a frown. Qf course! Nancy had been dating Rich Bailey for the last two or three months. And didn't that mean that he almost certainly had taken these pictures in the first place? God! She closed her eyes. Why was she so slow on the uptake today? Had it been the shock of her unexpected discovery in Nancy's drawer? "I bought this for Rich," Nancy had told her father one evening. "Tomorrow is his birthday. Do you think he'll like it?" she had asked, sitting on the floor by Vic's chair, showing him the Polaroid camera she'd bought, saving from her allowance and wangling an outright gift of money from her father.
Her father. Deanna frowned again. There was something almost unhealthy in the way Vic pampered Nancy. What good was a mother, trying to put some decency and sense into a girl, when the girl had only to go to her father to get anything she wanted? And a time or two, she'd seen Vic staring at Nancy as she walked through the house in a short, tied-up shirt and a pair of fancy panties, staring at the girl with a glaze in his eyes that made Deanna shiver and tense. Almost the way he'd stared at her, the first time they met.
She sighed. Times like this, she wished she smoked. It would give her something to do with her hands. "My God," she said aloud, "why is my life falling apart on me? Have I done something wrong? Have I offended? Have I sinned? My daughter had turned into a sixteen-year-old slut and my husband doesn't want to-doesn't want to-" she couldn't finish the sentence, not even now, when she was alone in the room. Her husband didn't want to make love to her anymore. She thought it, and she felt nearly as bad as if she'd said it.
But it was true. It had been true for months. At first she had to show a little initiative, coax him a bit, cajole him into sharing the pleasures of his bed and his cock with her. And it got harder and harder. Not his cock-the getting of his cock. Until it no longer seemed worth it, not worth the effort, not worth the seductiveness she had to waste on an unwilling man. They still slept in the same bed, and when she needed him, really needed him, she would try. But it wasn't working. Not any more. He might as well have been in Illinois as beside her under the same set of covers. His body no longer responded and, too often, once he'd gone to sleep she would lie there beside him sobbing quietly, wondering where she had failed, what had gone wrong.
Deanna felt a twinge. She looked down, and her hand was in her crotch, pushing against the fabric of her slacks where they clung to the bun set between her thighs. She hadn't even known she was touching herself. Masturbation had become almost second nature to her lately. "God," she said, "what if I started doing that to myself out in public somewhere?" Her face reddened, but her fingers stiffened where they pressed at her crotch, and she took a deep breath. Last night she'd tried, and tried bravely, to arouse Vic. It hadn't satisfied her needs. Her fingers flexed, and she groaned deep in her throat. She looked at the coffee table, saw the vibrator lying there, and she said aloud, "If it's good enough for my teenaged daughter, maybe it might help me a little too." She picked it up, clutched it possessively in her fist, and she got up from the couch. Purposefully, Deanna Wetzel strode into her bedroom, demurely closing the door behind her. She put the vibrator on the bed and began to unbutton her blouse.
In a few moments she was naked, her slacks and panties lying in a heap around her ankles. She stepped out of them, and only then did she raise her eyes to the vanity mirror, staring at her naked body. A deep breath made her tits lift. She cupped them from beneath, keeping them high, on display in the polished glass, and she gazed at herself.
"There's not that much wrong with me," Deanna said aloud. She bounced her tits. They'd begun to sag a little. The nipples pointed downward now, the big round red nipples. Once they'd been perky, tilted upward at a jaunty angle. Muscles couldn't keep them high and girlish forever. She'd been fairly small-busted until she got pregnant. Her tits had stayed full, even after she stopped nursing Nancy. For a long time Vic had enjoyed sucking and feeling her tits, but for all he seemed to care lately, they might as well be hunks of rotten meat dangling from her chest. She squeezed at her breasts. Soft, they were, and a little spongy, but there was a core of firmness lingering under the fleshy exterior. She squeezed again, looking down as her nipples began to erect. The tips of her little fingers flicked back and forth across the stiffening tits, and she felt excitement bubbling inside her.
Deanna's hands slid down her sides, onto her waist. She wasn't fat. Maybe she weighed five pounds more than she had in high school, but no more than that. Her hips were rounder now, not as high and springy as they'd been when she was a girl. Of course, she hadn't even had the pleasure of displaying those high springy buttocks when she was young. Skintight bluejeans weren't something you got to wear as a girl in 1961. Jeans that hugged your ass, stretched like a layer of skin, so tight the whole world could tell if you were wearing panties under them.
One of her hands slid down the rounded contour of her abdomen, into the tuft of dark hair between Deanna's legs. She was a sandy-blonde on top, very dark-haired below. Nancy's head-hair was a golden sunshine but she had inherited that clump of almost black pussy fur. Deanna knew that, having seen the pictures. She hadn't seen her daughter totally naked, not in the years since Nancy had entered puberty. "Well," she said, "now I know, don't I?" She wasn't sure she cared, but her fingers sifted through her own beaver and she clutched suddenly at the hungry hole lurking among the tufts and curls of dark hair. Her eyes closed and she gasped hoarsely as her fingers began to tweak and tickle the wrinkled, protruding inner lobes of her cunt. A little trickle of wetness oozed onto her fingers and she felt her head growing light, the way it always did when she began to masturbate.
It was such a clinical word, and even as she moved backward toward the bed, fondling herself with a growing fervor, she could not help feeling that there was a certain degradation about it. She was a woman, a married woman, thirty-four years old, but she was tickling her pussy like a schoolgirl. While her schoolgirl daughter was probably somewhere getting fucked right now, this very minute! Degrading, yes! And unfair as all hell!
She hadn't had that much of a sex drive when she was Nancy's age. Good girls didn't, back then. She masturbated sometimes, but it always left her feeling guilty, even as the glow spread through her convulsing cunt and filtered with her blood throughout her body. Even with Vic, it had been romantic attraction, not a sexual urge, that led her to surrender to him in the back seat of his auto. He was older, he'd been a football standout in his highschool days.
Well, they'd each gotten it, more or less. He's married her, hadn't he, given her baby a name? And things had gone well for such a long time between them. Living with him, sharing his bed, she began to understand the pleasure of the sexual act. When he turned out the light and pulled her into his arms, her cunt was usually moist and ready, dripping lust while she awaited the thrust of his dick. She began to have orgasms, sometimes more than just one. Sometimes she would feel as if she came for hours, exploding around his rigid tool, hugging him tightly, her legs around him, her pussy goo flowing from her crack in puddles. "And I loved it," she said, stretching back on the bed, lifting her knees and raising her pussy slightly, giving her fingers better and better access to the long, puffy-lipped crack. "I loved it more every time he did it to me-every time we did it. And I knew that there was more to being men and women than taking care of a baby, or cooking and cleaning. So much more! So much better!"
Her fingers were in her cunt now, three of them, bunched together like a bundle of slender, wiry sticks, and she fucked them in and out of herself, using wrist motions to ream the sides of her pussy tunnel as well. Juice was sticky in Deanna's cunt and her fingers dove deeper, thrusting into the well from which those juices overflowed. She moaned.
So what had happened? For the last year or two she had sensed a decrease in Vic's sexual desire for her. Too often, too damned often, she had to coax and cajole him into fucking her. What if she'd just lain there in bed and kicked away the covers, grabbed his dick, and said "I want you to get this thing hard and I want you to screw my goddamned pussy crazy with it! Do you understand?" He'd have been shocked. His lips curled a certain way when he heard her use the word "damn" or "shit", even. And how many days had it been since Princess Nancy had come in grouchy from school, saying, "My history teacher is a real son of a bitch, Daddy. I mean, he eats it! You know?" and Vic had gotten red in the face but he hadn't backhanded her, the way Deanna's father would have done in such a case. No, whatever Nancy said or did or wanted was fine and dandy. And what about Nancy's mother? She might as well be on the moon. Sometimes whole evenings went by and they said little more to one another, she and Vic, than "goodnight" as he turned off the bed light and they settled down to sexless sleep.
It was as if he were obsessed with the girl, with their daughter. She'd seen him watching Nancy out of the corner of his eyes, watching her every move. And Nancy had moves! She was sinuous and limber, thanks to her natural slender lissome figure and, probably, to her majorette activities. She did dances that looked more like something a woman should be doing under the covers. And did Vic fill his eyes watching Nancy dance to the sound of her record player? He'd even asked her to teach him some of the steps. He was a big, bear-like man, hard-boiled and he had never taken Deanna dancing, but he shambled around with Nancy in the living room, trying to imitate the disco bumps and hustles that came so easily and gracefully to her. It made Deanna sick, watching. It made her sick now, just thinking about it, remembering it. She thrust her fingers with a vicious stabbing intensity up her cunt and she arched her back, pussy lifting to meet the stabs, and she moaned again, moaned in a keening, hurting voice.
She and her husband shared a bed, and she had lost count of the number of times she'd tried her best to arouse him, to get him hard and ready. More often than it had worked, certainly, and those few occasions when she did get him up, when she was able to get his prick into her hole and began the passionate round of squeezing and wiggling and loving-well, had they been worth it? Was a cold, heartless, spiritless fuck ever worth it? And what if that was the only kind of fuck you could get?
"Jesus!" she gasped, wedging her fingers like a drillbit into the hungry mouth of her cunt. She pulled her knees up until they touched her tits, and she worked her fingers in and out of the wet, sticky hole, rocking the entire bed as she masturbated with a vengeance. Once she and Vic had made the bed rock this way, but no more. It was almost as if he'd found himself another woman.
Jealousy stabbed her heart like a knife, stabbed her heart the way her fingers stabbed her snatch. Of course there was another woman! Wasn't it clear that Vic was more interested in Nancy than he was in Nancy's mother? Even a blind fool could see that and understand it. "Damn her," Deanna sighed. "Damn her anyway! He thinks she's such a darling little thing-wait until he sees her HUSTLER auditions. Wait until he realizes that his little precious daughter has been fucking her little buns off and letting someone take pictures of her buck-naked. Wait till he-" and she rolled over onto her side, curling up into an even tighter ball, and her fingers were going mad in her snatch now, gone stark raving mad, working in and out, the fingers separating when they were deep inside, spreading the inner tautness of her cuntal tube. She twiddled deeply in herself and she humped to meet the onset of her frigging hand, and it wasn't good, wasn't nearly as good, but it was all she could get and she had to enjoy it.
She roiled again, onto her other side, and there it was, lying on the bed, inches from the tip of her nose. Nancy's vibrator, the obscene toy she'd found secreted in the dresser drawer. She'd put it on the bed and forgotten all about it. "Well?" Deanna said aloud. "I might as well see what the little slut is getting from it, hadn't I?" She uncurled her body, stretched out her aching legs, and her fingers eased out of her crack. She picked up the vibrator, flipped the switch and it came to life in her hand. She'd tested it earlier, in Nancy's bedroom, and she knew that the batteries were serviceable, that the thing worked. But she'd been almost numb then, had hardly felt it humming and buzzing where she held it in a nerveless fist. She wasn't numb anymore. The session of finger-fucking had livened Deanna's entire body. She was glisteny with sweat and she felt very warm, and every buzz, every shimmering hum, of the whiring vibrator resonated throughout the naked woman where she sat on her bed.
Her ears perked. She flipped the button to Off.
Frowning, she craned her head toward the window. Had she heard a sound outside? She could have sworn ... no, it must have been the echo of the buzzing sex device. Her nerves were on edge. She'd suspected for quite a while that Nancy, that her own daughter was just no damned good. Maybe, she'd reasoned with herself, it's only the natural conflict between mothers and their teenaged daughters. She'd gone through the same thing with her own mother when she was about Nancy's age. They'd not seen eye to eye on anything. But the vibrator, the envelope full of glossy Polaroids-Deanna wasn't imagining anything. Her daughter was a tramp.
"Well," she told the white plastic object, "let's see what the little slut finds so attractive in you, shall we?" and she lay back, turning the machine on once again.
She touched her belly with its rounded tip, felt a shiver at the buzzing contact. Her hand trembled, and she slid the end of the vibrator down her abdomen, into the upper edge of her dark patch of hair. Jesus! Like thousands of fingers strumming across her flesh, again and again, like Roy Clark teasing music, fast music, from a guitar string. She squirmed, not certain she was comfortable. Her hand jiggled, and the end of the machine brushed with a prolonged, sustained whir, straight down the juicy cleft of Deanna's pussy. "Aaaagggghhh!" she gasped in astonishment, bucking her snatch up against the thing. It knocked away, tickled the inside of her thigh and seemed to stick to her skin as if both flesh and vibrator were smeared liberally in Crazy Glue. She felt her hand move, but the vibrator's tip pressed insistently against her skin, sliding up the sensitive inner part of her thigh, right into her patch of dark hair once again. And this time when it made for the crack of her pussy, she was unable to stop it.
Her cunt was, if anything, wetter than it had been when the vibrator first touched her there. The end of the thing made contact with her puffy, protruding labes, and they opened like the gates of Ali Baba's cavern to the buzzed "Open, sesame!" and the thing slid greasily, easily, into her. Deanna's eyes rolled in their sockets as it sank into her defenseless hole, and she thought, God, what am I doing to myself?
She closed her eyes, worked the vibrator inside her twat. Maybe an inch or two of the thing was actually inside her gates. She was afraid to thrust it deeper, but-God! Her pussy was starting to jerk, her hips to quiver and buck, and-she was humping up to swallow the thing, the way she'd swallowed her fingers a few minutes ago! The buzzing object probed deep, deep into her pussy and she felt it touch the rear rail of her vagina, and except for her fingers and Vic's cock it was the only thing that her pussy had ever been full of, and she was damned sure full of it now, her cuntal muscles gulping and hiccuping as they ate the vibrator, pulled it deeper and deeper, left barely enough of the thing sticking out for her twitching, trembling fingers to hang onto.
Her eyes were shut tightly, and she gave herself to the perverted toy. A scarlet flush colored her face, and she thanked God that she was alone in the house, that no one would ever know what she was doing to herself with this inanimate but fantastic instrument. The buzzing and whirring only intensified as the penetration reached the bottom of her pussy. Deep inside her, incredible things were happening, things that Deanna Wetzel had almost forgotten could happen. She let go of the vibrator, two inches of its butt-end protruding from her pussy, and she put her fingers on her swollen clitoris.
The touch was agonizing, but she forced herself, pressing down on her lovebutton while her pussy hummed around the buzzing vibrator, and she felt hot sweat rolling from her armpits. Her face was flushed, her tits were jiggling and their nipples pointed up in inch-high erections. She had her knees drawn up, and her toes kept curling and uncurling, and she knew that she was going to make it, really make it, better even than she'd gotten from her fingers. And Christ knew, she needed it! A woman could only go on so long before her urges became unbearable. And it seemed that the older she got, the more unbearable her urges got, and the faster they got that way. But, Jesus, she had found something that might make those urges easier to live with! Where in hell did you buy something like this, for the love of shit? Could she slip that question into her interrogation of Nancy, maybe find out where her daughter had bought this magic wand?
And then she stopped thinking about everything, about everything except the mad rushed of orgasm that shot through her from head to toe. She had one hand on her clit, squeezing, pinching it even, abusing the tender but responsive button of her lust, and her other hand was gripping the butt of the vibrator again, making it slide in and out of her creamy snatch, up her slick hot tunnel again and again, driving it deeply, savagely. It didn't feel like a cock-it was too stiff, too hard, too unbending, too obviously plastic-but she didn't care, for it was better than anything she'd been getting lately, so goddamn much better....
Yes, she thought, I'm fucking myself, no one else wants to fuck me so I'm doing it to myself, and I'm doing a good job, aren't I, I'm coming, I'm coming like a bitch, my pussy is on fire and my tits hurt and I can hardly breathe, and I don't want it to stop, I want it to go on and on and on, just like this, for the rest of my life and maybe even a little longer. How do you like this, Vic? You don't want to screw me, so this machine had taken over your job. Good job it's doing, too. Really good job. It's tickling the mouth of my womb right now. I smell like a woman right now, all hot and musky and cummy. I'm full of cum, but it's my cum. I can do okay for myself, you bastard. Who needs you? I'll buy myself one of these things and fuck it all the time. Maybe I'll let you watch sometime. Maybe Nancy and I can both get our vibrators out and fuck ourselves with them while you watch. You'd like that, you sonofabitch, but you wouldn't be looking at me, you'd have your eyes glued to Nancy's little dark beaver and her pink tight hole, and you'd have a big hard dick in your pants, and for you that would be a change, Vic Wetzel, I've almost forgotten that you even have a dick at all.
Bet you'd like to use that dick on Nancy, wouldn't you? Fuck the baby you made? Just because she's young and ripe? You wanted me when I was young and ripe but you don't want me now, and I can outfuck Nancy any day of the week. Maybe I don't take as good a picture as she does-here, did you get to look at her collection? Aren't they darling? They should be in some of those dirty magazines you read, don't you think? The one where she's bent over with her ass sticking out and she's looking under her arm and that little smile as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Or maybe this one, where she's spreading herself and showing you how tight and pink and tiny her itsy-bitsy pussy hole is. Or the one where she had her finger in it? Would you like to keep that one for your wallet?
Oh, boy, big Daddy, you are coming home to a surprise tonight. We may have leftovers for supper, but you're going to get one fresh hot bellyful, and it's about time you understood what I've been trying to tell you about Nancy for the last couple of years. She takes a good picture, but can she throw a fuck the way I do? Can she milk you when she comes, the way I do? Does her pussy eat your cock like a wet, toothless mouth, gumming you all the way to the balls? Maybe she looks better in front of a camera, but match this, Nancy, match this, little princess, match this, little sluttttt....
CHAPTER THREE
She might have stayed there forever, stuffed to the gills with the buzzing vibrator, her body constantly shifting its molecules as the pleasure filled Deanna. It felt like hours, but the digital clock by the bed showed her, surprisingly, that her orgasmic coma had lasted precisely eight minutes.
"Christ!" she said, shivering, reaching down to grab the butt of the dildo, jerk it out of herself. As her body returned to normal, the constant whir grew absolutely intolerable. Her hand trembled as she withdrew the white plastic stimulator, and she thought, if this is how Nancy feels, using the thing, it's too goddamned good for her! The tip of the vibrator brushed across Deanna's clitoral region as she extracted it, and she felt a mighty convulsion pass through her body, and for a quick, mad moment she wondered if she had time to-to do it again!
It was three-fifteen, according to the clock. Nancy wouldn't be home from school for another hour. She had time to pick herself up, freshen her face. The outrage had dimmed somewhat. Maybe her masturbation had cooled her temper just a little. But it was still essential that she confront her daughter, get all this into the open. Things were going to change around here. Nancy would toe the line from now on. She'd speak with a civil tongue and she would not go prancing around like the little slut she was. The vibrator and the pictures would be a sword hanging over Nancy's head by a single hair. One tiny step out of line and Vic would get a squint at the photo session his precious darling daughter had posed for. He'd kill the boy, or come damned close, but Nancy would understand that, and she'd co-operate for a change. If she didn't....
Deanna slid off the bed, stood up. Her legs were shaky aand her pussy ached as she stood flexing her thighs beside the bed. She cupped her tits, and they hadn't felt so satisfied in a long time. Yes, she thought, maybe I'll get myself one of those marvelous little toys. Or just confiscate Nancy's. I wonder how often you have to change batteries? The way I'll be using it, very often! She clasped the vibrator to her tits and smiled at her naked reflection in the mirror.
The mirror reflected the window on the far side of the bed, and there was the quickest, briefest flash of motion at the window. Deanna whirled around, but she saw nothing. A bird, she thought. It must have been a bird flying past, reflected in the mirror glass. Sighing, she picked up her bra. Oh, she didn't feel like putting it on! Sometimes she really did think Nancy had the right idea about brassieres. Her tits still tingled from the force of her orgasmic release and she couldn't bear the thought of cramming them into her chaste white bra.
Instead, she slipped on her blouse, smoothed it over her taut-nippled, twitchy, boobs, and she sighed in delight. Maybe, she thought, maybe Vic would look at me once in a while if I went around without any underwear on. But she wasn't sixteen, was she? She wasn't Nancy. Sighing again, she got her pants and panties, put them on, and, carrying the vibrator, went out into the living room.
She turned on the TV, picked up some tissues and wiped the sticky, wet vibrator clean and dry. Her gaze fell upon the spread-out pictures of naked Nancy, atop the coffee table, and she frowned. Something would have to be done about that girl! It was obviously too late to save her daughter's innocence, but what kind of mother would she be if she stood by and said, did, nothing? Deanna stuffed the vibrator under the sofa cushion, looked for a moment at the TV screen, then went into the kitchen for a glass of diet soda, she poured herself a glass of Fresca on the rocks and put the half-gallon bottle back in the refrigerator. As she did, she looked out the side door.
"Damn it!" she said. The garage door was standing open. Hadn't she closed it when she parked the car? She always closed the garage door. Vic had a fetish about closed garage doors. He'd shit a brick if he came home and it was swinging in the wind. "Hell," Deanna said softly, setting her glass of soda down on the utility table. She went out the side door, smiling as her bare toes moved through the warm spring grass.
"I know I closed the damned door," she said aloud, starting to push it shut. There was a sound inside the two-stall garage and she stopped short. One of the neighbors' dogs? They lived a mile or so from the nearest house, but they were still overrun with rambling dogs. Deanna looked around the door, into the half-darkened garage. She could smell gasoline. Her nostrils twitched. A leak in the tank? She let go of the door, reached inside, turned on the overhead light, and went into the garage. The gas tank cover was pulled out and the cap lay on the hood of her 1964 Volkswagen. "What the hell?" she said, picking up the cap, and then the garage door jerked shut and she spun around, dropping the metal cap.
"What the hell indeed?" a man said, rising from the shadows at the far end of the garage. He was stocky, with carrot-colored hair that frizzled out like an Afro, and he wore a sleveless denim jacket and the filthiest pair of blue jeans she had ever seen. He stood up, rising to his full five-nine, and he came toward her. His bare arms were massive, protruding from the sleveless jacket, and she had never been afraid of a freckled face before, but she was now.
A hand touched her shoulder and she made a yipping sound. Behind her stood another man, almost seven feet tall, she was certain. She just kept looking up and up and further up, and finally her gaze reached his face, a thin, bony, emotionless face. His hair was cut Marine-short and he was almost as fat as a bean pole. Like the red-haired man, he wored a sleeveless denim jacket. His arms looked like toothpicks at first glance, but when she looked again she saw the corded ripple of muscle tone in them.
"Who are you?" Deanna gasped, shrinking back, raising her fist defensively. "What are you doing here? Get out of here, right now!"
The redheaded man came closer, and as he stepped out of the shadows she could see that he was holding a metal can and a piece of rubber tubing. The gas smell got stronger as he came near. They'd been siphoning gas, she understood now, but why? who were they? What were they doing in her garage?
"Listen," she said, "My husband is in the house, and I'm going to scream, and you ought to know, he keeps a .357 magnum in the bedroom, and he'll...."
The redhead laughed, and she heard a ghostly chuckle that must have come from his lean, lanky friend. "I don't think so," the red-haired man said. "For a variety of reasons, maybe I'm risking my life on the chance, but I don't think there's anyone in the house but you, lady. And if your husband had a .357 magnum in the bedroom, a .357 of any kind, you wouldn't have been stretched out on your bed with a diddlestick shoved up your twat. An edifying sight, if I do say so. Bone and I really enjoyed it. But I didn't figure you for getting finished so early."
Deanna made a shrill, whining sound and she drew up both her fists. "You were-spying on me?" she asked, hissing out the words. "You were-"
"Getting our eyes full," the man said, grinning broadly. He had excellent teeth, though they needed brushing. He was very close to Deanna now, and his breath smelled of gasoline and cigarettes. She remembered that little motion she had thought she saw, the motion she'd attributed to a flying bird. Could it be-her belly heaved at the very thought of these men-watching her-staring at her-she started to fall.
The man she'd heard called Bone grabbed her. His fingers touched the jiggly curve of her braless tit and she gasped. As she straightened up and his hand didn't slide away, she slapped at him, said, "Leggo of me, goddamn you!"
"Oh, come on," the other said, coming even closer. "Woman who has to get herself off with a piece of plastic and a battery probably could use some touching, couldn't she?" His face was only inches from Deanna's. She sucked in her breath, afraid to move. And then he dropped the siphon hose and the metal can and his hands flew to the front of her shirt. He grabbed her, ripped downward, and as soon as her tits were bare he covered them with his callused hands.
"Stoppppppp!!!" Deanna screamed, writhing as his grip tightened, his fingers dug into the soft outer layer of skin, squeezing till he found the firmness at the core of her tits. She tried to life her knee, to jab him in the nuts, but the taller man, Bone, was holding her again, kneeling as he wrapped his long arms around her legs. He was incredibly strong, with those pipecleaner arms of his, and she could not move. The red-haired man worked her tits in his big, sure hands, and she felt her nipples rising fearfully against his palms. "Please," she whispered.
"AD we wanted was some gasoline," the red-haired man said. "We pulled into this station, in some little burg on the other side of the ridge-"
"In Basnettsville?" Deanna husked, shivering in his grasp.
"How the fuck do I know?" he snapped. 'I'm not from this neighborhood. I don't know one of your hole-in-the ass towns from another. We needed some gas, but the place looked so fucking cherry it was a shame not to boost it. I guess the old fucker who runs it doesn't believe in banks. He had a roll of bills on him big enough to choke Linda Lovelace. But in the confusion, you might say, we got the money and forgot to get the gasoline. Our bikes are up on the hill, bone dry. Only the fumes in the tank got us that far. We watched the pig cars chasing back and forth on the other side of the ridge. Christ, you'd think somebody killed the fuckin' president or something!"
Deanna squirmed. His hands were coarse, almost vicious in the way they fondled and squeezed her tits. When he hit a stress word in his speech, he'd give her an extra squeeze, probably unaware that he was even doing it. But her tits throbbed as his fingers dug into them, and she thought, how long has it been since anyone's touched me like that? Except for myself? A little moan passed through her lips. "Take the gasoline, then, take it and go!"
The redheaded man tilted his head to one side. "Gasoline all you want to give us?" he asked, leaning his face still closer. His lips were almost touching Deanna's. "How old are you, lady? Thirty-four? Nice tits for thirty-four. Just spongy enough. Are you some kind of nympho, maybe? Is that why you lay around diddling yourself in the middle of the afternoon? Just don't ever get enough? Or-" his eyes narrowed to slittered glitters "-maybe you don't get it at all. Hmmmm?" He slacked his grip on her boobs and Deanna felt her body thrust against him, her tits eager to be squeezed again. His fingers clenched and he smiled, and she could read the knowledge in his smile. Her eyes dropped and she couldn't look him in the face.
"Food," Bone said. "We gotta get some food."
"All you ever think about is food," the redhead said.
"And where does it go? You wouldn't weigh 150 if you were holding two flour sacks. But he's right. You got any food in the house, lady?"
She nodded, breathing hard as he kept squeezing her boobs. "Some pork roast and potato salad-leftovers-it was going to be our supper tonight but-"
He let go of her tits. "Well, come on, then," he said. "Feed us. And-" his hand slid down her belly, into the tension of her crotch. "Maybe we'll feed you too. Turnabout's fair play and all?" He turned her around, and Bone stood up. "Let's get going," the red-haired man said, and he pinched Deanna's ass. She squealed and jerked, and then she started to walk fast, toward the house, the two men following her.
They were bikers, she understood that much. Bikers were pretty rare in this part of West Virginia, if you didn't count kids on Kawasakis. Eight or nine years ago a lot of bike gangs had passed back and forth through the area, but the police had cracked down on them and they'd gone elsewhere. Did two men count as a gang? They did, she thought, when you were virtually their prisoner, when they'd made demands.
"I'm hungry, Red," Bone said as he slouched his lanky frame onto a kitchen chair. His legs stretched endlessly across the floor. "You got any beer, lady?" Deanna grabbed Vic's six-pack of Falls City and set it on the table. He'd shit when he found his home-stash gone, but if she could make him understand what had happened, that she'd been accosted and terrorized, maybe he wouldn't be so angry. She watched in disbelief as Bone opened a can and poured it down his throat in one mighty gulp. He belched, grinned toward Deanna and she realized with a blush that her shirt was still open, her tits swinging bare and free. Red had torn the buttons loose, and she couldn't fasten it again, but she drew the shirt closed. "Food," Bone said, thumping his fist on the table. He opened another can of beer.
She got the roast from the 'fridge, and the big bowl of potato salad. They didn't wait for plates. They took the knives and forks she offered and tore into the food, eating ravenously. She stood watching, half-disgusted by the sight, trying to keep her shirt closed.
Red looked up. "Come here," he said. She came. She was afraid not to. "Take that fucking thing off," he said. "I only eat in joints that feature topless waitresses, dig?" She hesitated, and he turned in his chair, grabbed at her shirt, ripped it off her body. She moaned, raised her hands to cover her tits. But it seemed late for that. He'd already seen them, rubbed his grimy hands all over their fleshy contours. Her hands dropped away and she stood there, head hanging in shame.
"Lean over," Red commanded. When she did, he scooped potato salad out of the bowl with his fingers and smeared it onto the end of Deanna's bare tit. She was shocked and revolted, looking down at the mess on her flesh. Her shock turned to incredulity when Red grasped her boob in both hands and started to lick the potato salad off her.
He ate with gusto, sucking and tonguing and even biting her tit as he cleaned her off, and then he smeared some onto the other tit. "Beats a plate any day of the week," he said, as his tongue swirled around her nipple. Deanna closed her eyes in shame. He pulled her titty fiercely, and she half-squatted. "On your knees," he said. "I said we'd feed you in return, didn't I? He pulled her head into his lap. His pants were filthy and smelly, but she could feel the wiggle of his cock just inside, beneath the tight, dirty layer of fabric. "Come on, lady, do your stuff," Red added. He unzipped himself, reached inside. Deanna's guts clenched. She tightened her fists, afraid to use them.
And then he was pulling out his pecker, and she started to wriggle and writhe in refusal. "No, I won't do it!" she said. "You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you? I mean, I've seen your faces, I know your names. Dead men tell no tales? Well, kill me, damn it, because I'm not going to let you degrade me any more than you've already done!"
"Kill you?" Red said. "What the bloody shit for? Bone and I have boosted maybe a thousand gas stations and jerkoff country stores. Hey, lady, I just like the shape of your mouth. I want to see if it feels as good as it looks, dig? So wrap it around this pecker of mine and give me some sucking, hey?" He squeezed her cheeks, forced her mouth into a puckered pout. "MMM, yeah, honey, smooch up for it. I bet you're hell on wheels when you get a peter in your mouth. You looked sexy as shit fucking yourself with your little play-prick. I'm offering you the real thing, baby, and this is really the real thing. So just ooooooopen up, yeah, make a zero out of your mouth, right on, lady, right on! Bone, have you ever seen a mouth that looked more like a place to stick a cock? Tell me, my man." Bone grunted, force-feeding himself on potato salad, washing it down with gulps of beer. "Here I come, mama. We just may initiate you into the Pharohs' auxiliary. Open big, lady, 'cause it gets bigger as it gets better, and that's no he."
She resisted as long as she could, but the length of Red's cock continued to tickle its way across her face, the tip of him flirting with her mouth where he had forced it to open.
She tasted him, a little sour and dirty, but obviously masculine, on the end of her tongue. "Suck it," he said again, his voice deepening, "or we may just decide that this is one time we can't afford to leave any witnesses, dig?"
She dug. Her heart froze, and this time when his cock wiggled against her partly open mouth, she sighed and surrendered. He pushed into Deanna's mouth and she began to suck him, slowly, reluctantly.
His cock wasn't especially long. Vic had a bigger prick, but he was thick as a wedge in her mouth, especially when he began to swell and stiffen, and she felt her lips straining nervously to accommodate him. "Is that the best head you can give?" Red asked, patting her skull. "I'm disappointed, little lady. I had you figured for a grade-A cocksucker. The way your mouth went all OOOOHHHH when you made yourself come with that vibrator. Where'd you put the thing? Maybe if I stuck it up your bunghole you'd come to life, just a little, around my prick, huh? Would you like that, baby? I have a .38 under my jacket. Maybe I could stick that up your ass. Chicks tell me the gun is dynamite going into them. Here. Let me show you." And he pulled aside his jacket, popping the snap-buttons all the way down the front.
He was shirtless underneath, and a pistol nestled in a holster around his waist. He pulled the gun free, spun the cylinder while Deanna stared up with goggled eyes and a mouthful of cock, and then he put the tip of the pistol against the side of her head. "Suck me good," he said, "or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out."
She moaned, and her bladder lost control. Piss began to flow from Deanna where she squatted on the floor, and it puddled beneath her kneeling body, but she had no time even to be ashamed. She began to suck Red's cock, and suck it with all she had.
There was a time when she'd gotten queasy at the very idea of a cock in her mouth. Vic had helped her get over that, during the days their marriage was still a real marriage, but she'd always approached the subject of eating pecker with a slight reluctance. And she had never allowed Vic to come in her mouth. Well, once or twice. But she didn't like it, that sticky, greasy stuff squirting into her. And Vic squirted a lot when he hit his orgasm. But she had learned to be fairly good at oral stimulation, because he enjoyed it and once upon a time she'd enjoyed giving him what he wanted. And now, with the tip of Red's gun pressed against her head, with her life hanging in the balance, she tried to remember every nuance, every frill and wrinkle she had developed when she and Vic still treated each other like man and wife. Eyes closed tightly, she worked her head up and down on his cock, sucking Red with all her skill and power.
"Lick it," he suggested. "Take it out of your mouth and just lick up and down, you know? I won't shoot you for trying. I might shoot you for not trying, but-"
She didn't have to hear any more. She lifted her head, held his cock upright with trembling fingers. It was fully erect now, maybe seven inches long but thicker than a cock that size deserved to be. It felt as big as a beer keg but she knew her mind was exaggerating. She circled him with thumb and forefinger and licked around the spit-glossy end of him, where his fat, pointed knob stuck up like an arrowhead.
"Ah, yeah!" he said, leaning back. As he did, his cock seemed to push up against Deanna. She tightened her fearful grip, shivered as the cold steel of the pistol barrel continued to tickle her head. She stuck out her tongue, worked it around the edges of his knob, down the sides of him, all the way down to where he protruded from his zippered fly. She followed the fat bulge of his cum-tube back up, to the tip of him, and she even licked the big slice at his very peak, licked madly, desperately, and her heart was almost stopped from fear and dread.
Until she heard him groan and say, "Ah, shit! That's the sucking I was talking about, bitch!" He pushed his prick up, and it went into her open mouth, and for a moment longer the gun was tight against the side of her head. And then it was gone. She heard the clink of metal touching the formica top of the kitchen table and she breathed. Her lungs were taut and aching. She wondered if she had breathed at all from the moment when he first brought out the gun.
"I didn't say to stop sucking," Red warned, patting the crown of her head. "Nice hair," he added, running his fingers through it. "I like this color hair. What do you call it, dishwater blonde or something? First girl I ever fucked had hair this color. I was eleven and she was fifteen. You might say she raped me. But I didn't fight, and I know you're not gonna fight either, are you, baby? You're just gonna suck my cock and suck my cock and suck my cock, and when I get all hot and bothered, I know you're gonna lay some Up and tongue around me and squeeze me and tease me and please me till I just till that little ol' mouth of yours with the hottest sweetest jiss you'll ever get a chance to gargle on, right, baby? Suck if you agree. Mmmm. If s nice to meet an agreeable woman. You ought to try this, Bone. But you'd probably kill her with that horse pecker of yours, so I figure I might as well get mine first. If there's anything left when I'm done, though, it's all yours."
Deanna's blood chilled. "No, please," she said, raising her head, "I don't think it's possible. My daughter will be coming home from school, my husband will be in from work...."
"The more the merrier," Red said. "The more the merrier." She must have visibly hesitated, because she saw the flash of his hand and then the gun was pointing at her again. "Suck, bitch!" Red growled.
"Ohmygod," Deanna gasped. She opened her mouth, lowered it swiftly over the end of his cock, and she began to suck him with all the power in her mouth and body. The piss she had spilled in her fear was beginning to make her crotch and thighs itchy. Her pants were sopping wet and she knelt in a smelly puddle, more frightened than she'd ever been, in all her life.
"Puehhhh!" Red said suddenly, and he pushed Deanna backward. She went scrambling onto her ass. He leaned forward, touched the stained crotch of her pants, looked down at the wet sheen of moisture on the tile floor. "I think she pissed on herself," he said to Bone, who was finishing the last of the potato salad and the last of the beer.
Deanna looked away, shamed beyond belief. She wiped her wet mouth, stared at the floor. But she could feel Red's eyes glaring at her, reveling in her shame and humiliation.
"Take off your pants," Red commanded, and wipe up the floor. "It's a dirty housekeeper that won't mop up a puddle of piss."
Deanna knew it was futile to argue. She stood up, unhooked her slacks, let them drop. "Panties too," Red went on. "It looks pretty wet. You'll need all the rags you can get." She blushed but she began to slide her panties down her benumbed thighs, scarcely conscious that she was totally naked now, as she stepped out of them. "Go to it," Red said. "If your husband's coming home, you don't want him coming into a filthy house, do you?"
She knelt, began to mop up the wetness with her slacks. All the while Red watched from above. His stiff blunt cock stood up from his unzipped thighs. From time to time he slid his hand up and down the stiff erection, and he sipped lazily at a can of beer. "I like to watch women doing little domestic chores," he told Bone. "Don't you?"
"Uggghhh," Bone muttered, his mouth full of food and beer.
Deanna looked up. Whatever pride she might have had was gone now. She'd been humiliated and humbled. Forced to suck a stranger's cock, her body naked, not even her bladder allowing her to retain a lingering shred of pride. Red stood up, hand working on his rod. "That's better," he said. "Now lay down on the floor. On your back. I'm sure you know how to lay down on your back, don't you, bitch? That's it. Legs open. Yeah. Give me a little peek. Mmm. Take a look, Bone. Did you ever see such cute, wrinkled pussy lips? They're peeking out of her crack, almost like they don't want to miss out on anything." He laughed, squatted beside Deanna, karate-chopped her between the legs. She gulped and groaned, and then his lingers were on her cunt, testing the flexibility of her labes. He worked a finger into her snatch. She was dry, but he persisted, and his finger suddenly stabbed, deep and insistent. She closed her eyes and moaned in a low voice. Her hips began to writhe on the floor where she lay and she felt her pussy snug around his probing finger. "Not as tight as some," Red announced finally, withdrawing his finger and sniffing at it, "but it smells better than most and it has a certain presumptuous tightness, which I must admit I like. What do you think, Bone?"
"Tight pussy," Bone agreed, grinning. He drew back his long legs and leaned forward in his chair, staring at Deanna where she lay outstretched, victimized, totally abject. "I like tight pussy."
"Bone doesn't talk much, but when he does, he speaks like a philosopher," Red commented. He moved forward, straddled Deanna's prone body. She felt his hips settle down on her chest and she opened her eyes.
He rubbed his cock across her lips. "Dig this?" he asked, forcing her open with his hand. He didn't have to force very much. She was resigned to her situation now. Deanna's mouth opened and Red eased his cock into her. "Suck some more," he said. "You don't give the kind of blowjob your mouth promises, but you don't do badly, either. So eat me again. And this time, make it good and sweet and wet and hot. Okay?"
What could she say? What could she do? She closed her lips around him and she began to suck again.
As she did, Red started to move atop her, leaning in, forcing more of his cock into her mouth. She gagged at his attempts to penetrate her deeply, but he kept on shoving and she had the choice of strangling or sucking. Deanna chose to suck. She hoped she would live to regret the decision. She hoped she would live, period. The question was still very much an open one.
She mouthed him with what she hoped felt like eagerness, but she was loathing the position fate had cast her into and she found herself remembering old forgotten prayers in hope that some other fate would come along in time to save her.
Something touched her low down the belly, just above the upper edge of her bush. She opened her eyes, saw that Red had reached around with one hand. What did he intend-Ouch! His finger gouged vigorously at her labes, and he was stabbing nastily into her cunt, pronging her with an almost brutal insistence. She squirmed, and her head rocked around and around on his stiff prick. He stabbed her again, let his other fingers slide onto her clitoral area.. Deanna began to sweat.
And more than sweat. The deeper his finger burrowed into her dry, pulsating cunt, the more her cunt throbbed. He wiggled his finger deep within Deanna's tight precincts and she began to moisten around him, as all the while his cock continued to press its forceful way into her sucking mouth. She lifted her knees, brushed hair back from across her forehead, and she kept on sucking. Red's finger began to punch in and out of her twat in a series of machine-gun like stabs, tickling her wetter and wetter and wetter, and she could feel the moisture building inside her pussy, and her mouth was beginning to fill with saliva too, and now it was her head lifting to meet the thrusts of his prick, her tongue playing circles around him as he moved in and out of her mouth in short strokes.
She was sucking him, Deanna thought in a sudden flash of realization. She was actually sucking his cock! And her pussy-what was it doing around his stabbing finger? Her hips jerked, her knees lifted and fell, lifted and fell, and the sensations passing through her snatch were somewhat different from the feel of the vibrator inside her hole, but this was no plastic toy, it was a piece of living tissue, flesh and blood wrapped around flexible joints of bone, and those joints did flex! Red made his finger crook and bend inside her, and she moaned each time he played a new variation of digital tickling. Her tongue began to roll and roll around the bulk of his thick cock, and she thought, It's been such a long time, such a long, long time....
"Agghh!" he gasped, and then he pulled his finger out of her cunt, put both hands on the root of his cock, and shoved as deeply into Deanna's mouth as he could. She felt him shudder and swell, and then the cum began to pour into her mouth, thick, rich, like Grandma Leeson's home-style gravy. She gasped at the recollection, and in the process she almost choked on the wad of semen that was perched at the tip of her throat. It oozed down her gullet in a thick warm swallow, and she closed her lips. A little cum was already leaking from the corners of her mouth, and he was pouring it into her hot and heavy. She knew she had to swallow it, and swallow she did. Deanna had never especially enjoyed swallowing cum in the past, but what choice did she have now, lying flat on her back, an abject slave to the redheaded man who squatted atop her naked body and forced his sperming prick into her mouth. She closed her eyes and drank his sex offering.
Finally his cock began to soften in her mouth and the flow of jism had stopped. "Lick me dry, now," he said, removing his dick, holding the limp dangle before her lips. "Clean me up good."
Did she have a choice? Her finger took hold of his tip and she began to lick, delicately, at the cum-smears up and down his soft length. As she did, Red patted her head. "Not bad," he said. "I'll give you a 72 for that." He looked around. "Well, Bone?" he said to his friend. "Would you like to show the lady why they call you Bone?"
CHAPTER FOUR
Bone stood up, all six-foot-eight or nine of him. The top of his head barely cleared the ceiling of the kitchen when he was on his feet but he could have hid behind a pipe cleaner and gone totally unnoticed. "Show her my bone?" he asked with a gap-toothed grin, and he reached for his zipper.
"Shit," Red said, standing up and tucking his cock back into his pants while Deanna lay on the floor too frightened to move. "There's not enough room for you to lie down, Bone. They didn't build this kitchen for a dude your size. You got a bedroom, lady?"
"A b-bedroom?"
"Yeah. Hell, yeah! Of course you've got a bedroom, and a bed. Dildo, too, but you won't be needing it, not when you get a look at Bone's equipment. Confidentially, he isn't a mental giant, but he was standing at the head of the line when-oh, shit, you'll find out. Come on, people, let's find the bedroom. You're gonna like this, Bone, and I think the lady of the house may get a bang out of it too." He laughed, grapped Deanna's hand, and jerked her erect. She came up staggering. Red's hand slipped around her waist and he sidled against her.
They were out of the kitchen and in the living room, Red guiding Deanna, Bone following, muttering under his breath in monosyllables. For a moment Red stopped, peered at the television set. "ANOTHER WORLD?" he asked. "What a bunch of shit! Turn off the idiot box, Bone," he commanded, and the shambling giant obediently marched to the set, pushed the button. The screen went blank. "And what's this, pray tell?" Red added, his gaze falling onto the coffee table. Deanna looked too and she went scarlet. The pictures of Nancy. She'd left them lying on the coffee tabletop, in plain view. Red let go of Deanna, picked up several of the photos. "Not bad," he said, nodding. "Take a look, Bone?"
"Naked girl," Bone said, grinding. "Looks nice. Looks like a tight fuck."
"These aren't you?" Red asked, turning to Deanna. She shook her head, eyes downcast. "Who are they? Your-did you say your daughter? How old is she, sixteen, seventeen? What are you doing, lady, running a kiddy-smut racket out of your house? Look at this one, Bone. You can fuckin' see China. Light at the end of the tunnel. Too bad she's not a natural blonde. If she had a little patch of fuzzy gold hair on her pussy, instead of that dark triangle, she'd be dynamite. Hugh Hefner would probably buy her from you. Fuckin' miracle, just like Lourdes. Goddamn, lady! You got stuff like this laying around and you bitch about giving me a little head?"
"I-I found them today," Deanna tried to explain, wondering why she was trying. It was none of his business, was it? "I think her boyfriend took them. I was going to give her hell when she got home from school. Oh, my God, she'll be home from school before very much longer, it's almost four o'clock, please, just take the gasoline and go. I have some money, not much, but I'll give it all to you...."
"Now is that fair?" Red wondered. "I mean, Bone has watched me feed your mouth with my fuckstick, and he's probably got a bone in his pants just from watching. I've had my jollies, but I can't let my best friend and faithful sidekick go without, can I? And what kind of hostess would you be if you served the hors d'oeuvres to just one guest and not to all of them? Tell me that one, lady. Goddamn, Bone, do you think we ought to wait around on the chance that this lady's fancy little daughter makes it home in time to join the party?"
"Hey," Bone said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Bone has spoken," Red said. "And when Bone speaks, people listen. I listen. So come on, lady, which bed would you rather bounce on, hey?" He kicked open the door of Nancy's bedroom and pushed Deanna into it, ahead of him. The room was a mess, as Nancy's room always was, but Deanna had more important things to worry about than a messy bedroom. "What's her name?" Red asked, motioning for Deanna to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Nancy? What's your name, by the way? I forgot to ask, but when it occurred to me, I was coming in your mouth and you wouldn't have been able to answer. Deanna? I don't think I ever met anyone named Deanna before. Were you named for Deanna Durbin, by any chance? Figures. Well, you know us. I'm Red, and he's Bone. Show her why you're Bone, Bone."
"My bone," he said. "Show her my Bone?" Red nodded. Bone unzipped his trousers, reached inside, and began to Fish out a cock that made Deanna's eyes bulge in disbelief.
He unreeled it, like line from a fishing rod as the trout plays further and further into the lake. "My God," she said, staring as the whole thing finally hung before him, out of his unzipped pants, bare and in the open. She put her hand on her breast. She had never seen a cock so long, never dreamed that one could be so incredibly lengthy.
She tried to estimate its length, based on his height and the distance from his beltbuckle to his knees, and the closest figure she could come up with was an unbelievable thirteen inches of dangling prick. Not even hard, she thought, as he stood there, beaming proudly, saying, "My bone."
"The eighth wonder of the world, some say," Red commented, patting Bone on the shoulder. "Go to her, Bone. She's yours, this turn."
"Mine?" Bone's grin enlarged. He came toward Deanna where she sat, naked and defensless, on the edge of the bed, and she wasn't even conscious of her nudity any longer. Her eyes and her fears were all focused on the swaying dangle of Bone's pecker.
He stopped in front of Deanna and he said, "Suck on me, like you sucked on Red. I don't get hard till I'm sucked on."
"I can't," she said, "Honest to God, I can't. I could never-"
As she spoke, Bone picked up his rod, applied the tip of it to her parted lips, stuffed himself into her mouth. She choked, gagged, tried to jerk her head back, but he had her by the skull and he pushed more dick into Deanna. It coiled and curled like a snake inside her mouth, and she was full of him but there was still as much, or more, of that incredible cock outside her mouth, struggling to get in.
And then it stiffened, and it straightened out, and the end of it was in her throat. She gagged again, and he pulled back, further back as his dick got harder and harder, and Deanna had only the tip of the iceberg between her lips. She was looking down the erected shaft of him, and it was the longest dick she had ever seen, ever imagined possible, and she knew why this cycle bum was known as Bone. Not because of his bony frame, as she'd imagined at first, but because of the fantastic bone he sported between his legs.
Erect, it was a sight to make a convent reject their vows. Not thick, about the circumference of a broomhandle, but long-God, she thought, a woman would have to have a cunt as deep as a cow's to fuck a cock this long? It could rupture a womb. She gulped, imagining herself being screwed by that tool. But on the other hand....
She had been so frustrated lately, with Vic's apparent loss of interest in her as a sexual person. The vibrator had quenched some of her flames, but it had fed as many more. She remembered lying on the kitchen floor while Red force-fed her on his pecker, remembered the yearnings and stirrings that had sprung to life in her pussy as his finger tickled deeply inside her. For so many months she'd gotten all her satisfaction from her fingers.
Deanna tightened her lips around the end of Bone's dong and she began to suck him with all the suction power in her mouth. She put her hands on the rigid bone of his erection and she began to play her fingers up and down his length. Like the rest of Bone, his cock was lean and wiry, skinny in appearance but all muscle and fiber and gristle where it counted. She touched him with wondering fingers, felt the ripple of excitement flow up and down his length. Or was it the throb of her own excitement? He pushed a little deeper into Deanna's mouth, and the slender lance of his dick eased across her tongue, toward her throat. She gulped, took him as far as she dared, and she sucked at what was trapped inside her, wishing somehow that she could accommodate the rest of Bone's bone.
What was she thinking? she asked herself in a kind of disgust. But there was a rhythmic pulsation at the tip of his dick, where it lay on her tongue, and it matched the stepped up beating of her own heart, and she knew that a woman too long ignored could not be blamed for finding pleasure when and where the chance arose. Today she'd made love to a vibrator. She'd never done that before in her life. She was being raped now, if one adhered to the strict technicalities, but somehow it didn't feel like rape. Gasping, she finally released Bone's cock. "I can't suck it," she said. "It's too big." She wiped her forehead. Sweat was rolling from beneath her sandy-blonde hah. "I want to, but I can't!"
"Now she's talking, huh, Bone?" Red said, coming up. He sat down on the bed alongside Deanna, put his arms around her, began to fondle her tits. She squealed as his fingers caressed her nipples and more than a little surprised to feel how stiff her nipples had become. They were tight and pointy, aching with repressed desire. God, had it been so long since she and Vic had been more than sleepers in the same bed? Had she missed a man that much? Red's hands molded to the contours of her spongy, firm-centered tits, and she sighed. Her own hands were still on Bone's pecker, working back and forth. With Vic, there was a flexible outer layer of flesh that could be moved up and down manually, but Bone was all bone. She closed her fists around him-both of them fitted round his stiff pointing dick-and she closed her eyes while Red began to nibble at her shoulder. His hands kept massaging her tits, and he said, "See, lady? If you don't fight, it's more fun for you. Of course, it's more fun for us if you fight a little at first."
"That's what my mother used to call me, too," Red said lightly. One of his hands slid down into Deanna's lap. She spread her legs a bit for him, and his fingers easily found the puffy, protruding lips of her twat. She knew that she was wet and sticky, and his finger slipped into her with no trouble at all. She leaned her head back, sighing, and she kept on playing with Bone's pecker.
"Want to fuck her," Bone said.
Deanna sat up, eyes wide open. "No," she said. "Absolutely not. It would never work." She looked at the length of him. "You'd kill me."
"Bone's never killed anybody yet," Red volunteered, tickling her nipple and her twat. "You only think you can't take him. Wait till he slips that thing into you and you feel it slide all the way up your body, lady, all the fucking way...."
"Take your clothes off," Deanna said in a weak voice. "I won't do it unless you take your clothes off."
"Let's all get naked," Red agreed. "Take your pants off, Bone." He looked at Deanna. "We don't take off our jackets," he told her. "It's a by-law of the Pharaohs. And laws are laws, hmmm?"
He stood up, unbuckling his belt. "Me too?" Bone asked. Red nodded. The lanky man stepped back, his pecker sliding free of Deanna's clutching hands, and he too unbuckled his belt. He dropped his trousers, no underwear, and his legs were skinny and white, but his cock was still as long and as rigid as ever. His balls were small, tightly cased in their little protective sac. 'This is fun," Bone said. "When was the last time I had anybody in a bed, huh, Red?"
"Don't just ask questions," Red said, stepping out of his fallen trousers. "Climb on her and do your thing, boy, do your thing!"
"Hot dog," Bone said, and he shoved Deanna back. Her legs were spread, and he moved into their gap, pushing his prick downward, aiming it at the hair-fluffed slice of her pussy. She stared down at her crotch, at his relentlessly moving prick, and she held her breath.
It touched her, and she felt juices leak from her slit, wetting the tip of Bone's dong. She sighed then, and she settled onto her back, and his cock battled with the puffy lips of her snatch, and he moved into Deanna. She stifled the urge to scream; instead, she lifted her legs. Bone caught them, braced them against his shoulders, and he pushed his pecker a little deeper. A gasp caught in Deanna Wetzel's throat.
He wasn't big, not in circumference, but the angle at which he entered her was breathtaking, and so was the feel of him sliding in. And if she really wanted to be eye-enraptured, all she had to do was look down her belly and see how much of his cock was still outside her pussy. She was full, her vaginal canal crammed with dick from end to end, but no more than half of Bone's cock was in her, and maybe not even half. The portion still waiting its turn to get inside looked to be eight inches or more long-christ, she thought, the half of him that isn't in me is as big as anything Vic could shove my way!
"God," she said, "you really are built like a horse."
"Like a horse," Bone agreed, working his cock in and out, short strokes that made Deanna throb and tremble. He grasped the backs of her calves, pushed them back, and her pussy came up a trifle from the surface of the bed. He wasn't lying atop her-he'd have hung over the edges of the bed at both ends. Instead, he was standing beside the bed, feeding his cock into her rapidly-juicing cunt, and the further back he pushed her legs, the more of his cock seemed to go into her, until he touched bottom and the small pointed tip of his pecker hit the mouth of her uterus and she groaned sincerely, clawing at the bedspread.
"If you need something to use your hands on," Red suggested, "why don't you try this?" He pried one of Deanna's hands from the bedcovering and she felt her fingers being molded around the soft dangle of his dick. She clutched him as ferociously as she'd gripped the bedspread, and his cock began to grow inside her fisted hand. A throb of excitement-was it hers or his? Or perhaps both? Again Bone's cock plumbed her deeply, and she sighed majestically. She remembered the Russian queen who had died trying to fuck a horse, and she felt the sharp bite of Bone's pecker. There was a glory in receiving a tool like Bone's, but there was a pain, especially when he pushed too deeply, and he was pushing too deeply, too often. She cried out, "Ahh, no, please," but his only answer was to shove her legs further back and probe a little deeper with the head of his questing rod.
"Good fuck," Bone said.
"Any fuck is a good fuck," Red countered, petting Deanna's fingers as they caressed his dick. "And most blowjobs are pretty good too. In fact, I think I'll see if I can raise this lady's score just a little bit. Open your mouth, bitch, I feel like coming on your tonsils again."
And before she knew what was happening, Deanna felt her lips touching the end of Red's dick. She knew there was no question of refusal, not in this situation, so she opened up and let him slide home. Her mouth greeted him, wet, greasy, ready. She'd already sucked Red's tool, and she knew what to expect. And there was no need, now, to resist. She couldn't resist. She could only accept. Whatever happened, she could only accept it. She turned her face to the side, giving Red an easier access to her mouth, and he began to fuck her face while Bone concentrated, with the single-minded zeal of the mentally deficient, on fucking the hell out of her cunt.
There was room in her snatch for perhaps eight inches of his peter. The rest of him had to barrel against the mouth of Deanna' hole, trying to insert itself where it was physically impossible, but the struggle, the pressure-God! Already the tip of him was flush against the tip of her uterus, deeper, even, than Vic had normally gone in the days when he was still fucking her. And if Bone didn't have Vic's pecker thickness, he had Vic almost doubly beat when it came to length. Length wasn't everything. Until today, Deanna Wetzel had never tasted the bite of any cock in her pussy, any cock except the one belonging to the man she had married. My God, she thought, feeling double insertion, a prick in her cunt, a prick in her mouth-is this double rape? A tremor shivered through her body. She didn't know. She honestly to God didn't know.
Bone was so stiff, so fucking rigid! His cock hardly bent at ah as he worked it inside her. He'd been aptly nick-named, and that was the God's honest truth! She felt that lengthy piece of bony gristle bore into her pussy again and again, and she strained, wishing there was some way she could open herself wider, sucking it all up her snatch, and the very thought, once she had realized it, was horrifying. She had become a fervent participator in her own degradation!
What other proof did she need, but the way she was sucking at Red's cock? He was on the bed, kneeling, aiming his cock at her mouth, and he eased over onto his side, making more of himself available to Deanna's lips. She wolfed at him avidly, licking him round and round while he pushed in and out of her mouth, and he tasted male and horny, a coating of salt on his hot meat, and she remembered the taste of his hot cum gushing into her mouth, too, and she remembered it without the slightest revulsion, which was as incredible as anything else that had happened to her in the last couple of hours. She sucked harder at Red, almost anxious for yet another flow of his hot seed. Her tongue tickled round the swollen knob of his dong, sliding through his slitted tip with a frisky delight.
With one hand she reached out, cupped his balls and the root of his dick, squeezing them naughtily. Her other hand moved down her belly, into her cockpit. She heard Bone cough as she worked thumb and finger around the long slender heft of his pecker, and she slid up and down him, from the place where he entered her to where his dick pointed up long and stiff from the sparsely-haired flesh of his groin. And she made gurgling sounds all around Red's prick, while her pussy did a little gurgle and hiccup around Bone's fucking rod, too. It was no position for a respectable married woman to be in, but she didn't feel respectable any longer.
Nancy? The thought chilled her. The girl would be home from school soon. But a few more thrusts of Bone's peter and she didn't care a hell of a lot. A few more stabs of Red's dick into her mouth and she didn't care at all. The only fucking she could compare with this one was the time Vic had screwed her on Bethel Ridge before they were married, the night Nancy was conceived. And this time she didn't have to endure the brief but noticeable pang of agony as a cock burst through the bud of her cherry. Her pussy and her mouth were both loose and open and wet, and they were eating voraciously at the cocks which struggled to feed them. If only Vic could see me now, she thought. If only he knew how much I've been missing what he's no longer interested in giving me. Wouldn't this open his eyes? She sucked more passionately at Red, and she heard him groan, "Make that score an 80 and rising!" Eighty and rising? Before she let go of his fat peter, he'd be begging her to stop and promising her an even hundred on whatever scale he used to rate blowjobs!
"Come," Bone said suddenly, and his cock seemed to quiver inside Deanna, and he jerked his dick out of her pussy, put the tip on her belly, just above the top of her beaver, and she felt the pumping flow of his semen ooze on her, squirts and floods of the hot sticky fluid emanating from the tip of Bone's rod. She looked down, and her hips were still wiggling, as if she were still being fucked, and she heard Red say, "Damn it, Bone, you're not making a dirty movie! You can fuckin' come inside her if you want to!"
He looked down at Deanna and shrugged, meanwhile working his own prick in and out of her tight-clenched mouth. "We had some honest work for a while. I rented Bone out to some guys who were making fuck films. That cock of his, he could ball two broads at the same time and make them both cream their drawers. But you know how it is in fuck movies-the guy has to pull out and spill his nuts so the camera can see it, not to mention all those folks watching out in movieland, and I've told him a hundred times, he doesn't have to do it with a real piece, but-"
"I'm sorry," Bone said sadly, the end of his tool lying on Deanna's belly. "I'll do better next time. Honest I will."
"And until next time," Red added, "you just keep sucking that cock, lady. You're already up to an 85. And rising."
Bone's cock was still hard. He stood between Deanna's legs, shucking himself. "Put it back in her," Red suggested. "She isn't half-fucked yet." Deanna squirmed as she felt the renewed insertion of the long dick, and her pussy melted around it. She was dangerously close to an orgasm, she realized as Bone started to thrust in and out once more, and she wondered if she dared to give herself that pleasure under the circumstances. On the other hand, she wondered, was there any possible way she could deny it to herself? She wrapped her tongue around Red's pecker, felt Bone slide his still-rigid dick far up her pussy channel, and she sighed. Who would have thought a day that began so prosaically, with breakfast and then a trip to the laundromat, would end like this? But had it ended yet?
She fucked with her pussy and her mouth, using them in counterpoint. Her pussy moved toward Bone, eating at his pecker, the ripple of her excitable muscles keeping him stiff within her tube, and she clutched at him with one fierce hand, holding his dick in a possessive grip and wishing she might never have to let go. God, if only she had two pussies! He could fuck both of them with that horse-dick of his!
And Red, in her mouth. His prick was stiff and tasty, and her tongue slid around him time after time, slurping at his natural juices, tasting occasionally of cum, leaking from him as if his prick was so full of the stuff a little had to seep out now and then.
Too late she heard the opening of the bedroom door, the gasped "MOTHER!" Red's cock had already begun to spray, into her mouth. He reacted to the muted cry that seemed to echo off the bedroom walls, and his cock jumped from Deanna's mouth. Cum splattered her face and she looked around Bone, whose reaction time was much slower (he was still fucking her in slow, meaningful strokes), to see Nancy standing in the doorway. The girl's face was beet-red and her long golden hair hung loose and free. She stared as if in disbelief at what was happening on her bed and her eyes were enormous.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nancy lay on the blanket wearing only her peppermint-stripe panties and her sandals. Coyly, she smoothed her long loose hair down over her breasts. The hair tickled her nipples, but it was a soft, silky kind of tickling and she loved it. She ooohed sultrily and looked up at Rich Bailey, who was kneeling beside her. The front of his jeans was poked out desperately with the bone of his erect cock. Nancy made a kissy-face at him, then reached up with one small, slender-fingered hand, and she smoothed her palm across the bulge in his pants. "Oh, Christ, Nance," he said in a tight, horny voice. She smiled, and her red lips glistened, and she made her hand a little tighter on his cock.
He groaned now, and his hands shot down, covered hers, pressed her to him.
"Take it out," she purred in her softest, sexiest voice. "Go ahead. Let me see it."
His fingers flew, unbuttoning his pants, unzipping, sliding the jeans down his hips. Under them he wore a jock strap, and that jock strap had all it could do to hold back the stiffness of his pecker. She lay there, smiling like a madonna as he let down his jock strap too and his cock bounced out, stiff as a board and capped with a cherry-red knob. 'Touch it," he said. 'Touch it, Nancy. Please?"
She pursed her Ups, as if she were thinking about it, and then she sat up. Her hair slid away and her tits peeked through the long, luxurous falls of shimmering gold. She had pink nipples, and they were big nipples, fat as gumdrops. Rich saw them flash into sight and his hand darted down, squeezed one pink teat. "Stop that," Nancy said, but she didn't push his hand away. His fingers tested the firm resilience of her tit, sliding around and around the apple-shaped mound of flesh, but coming always back to the stiff, touchable nipple. Nancy felt her titty begin to throb as he squeezed her, and she sighed, shaking her hair back over her shoulders. Now she was unabashedly bare from head to waist, and from the white trimmed edges of her panties all the way down her long slender legs.
Nancy sighed. She arched back a little, and he covered both her tits with his eager, trembling fingers. He squeezed, nervously at first, as if this was the first time he'd ever gotten his hands on a set of boobs. Her hands came up, encircled his stiff, exposed rod, and she felt a trembling there, too. It pleased Nancy, knowing that she could make a boy so tight and tense and excited. It pleased her very much.
"It's pretty," she said. "I think it's even cuter than last time. Look how the end is all red and swollen. Bet if I just touched it, like-" her fingers pinched sharply on the tip of Rich's cock. He moaned, clenched at her tits. Nancy giggled. Her fingers loosened, and she began to work her hands slowly, up and down the shaft of his cock. "Maybe I better just do this," she said thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Rich said huskily, "why don't you, honey?"
They were parked in the woods, perhaps a quarter mile from the road that wound and twisted up Shaver's Run, playing out at the Wetzel home. It was a half mile past Webb Fluharty's, on the rutted dirt path that led up to the old cemetery in the cove, the one where nobody had even been buried since 1866 and where most of the tombstones bore the name Wetzel. A deep covering of woods surrounded them, and Rich had spread the blanket on some mossy, cool ground under a large, shading elm. Last Chance for Fun, was Nancy's personal name for the place. Two curves and a straight stretch, half a mile in all, and she'd be at home, which was no fun at all unless Daddy was around to fend off Mom's interference.
Nancy began to work her hands up and down Rich in a slightly faster motion. Mom, she thought. Always on my ass about something. Do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that. When I was sixteen, young lady ... Well, Mom had gotten herself knocked up at seventeen, hadn't she? And was both a wife and a mommy at eighteen? So who was she to be telling people what to do and what not to do? So what if she didn't like it because Nancy went around in t-shirts and halters without a bra underneath? Everybody had nipples, even boys. Of course, not everyone had nipples like Nancy's, and she did enjoy very much knowing that people were staring at them when tight clinging fabric made them stick out so noticeably. To hear Mom talk about it, going braless was one of the Seven Deadly Sins or something; probably when she was sixteen, girls were wearing suits of armour around to protect their chastity. Fat lot it had helped in Mom's case, Nancy thought with a giggle.
One thing I'm not gonna do, Nancy reminded herself, is get knocked up. She closed one fist around Rich's dick and started to shuck him in a skilled, knowing fashion. He pressed his fingers against her tits and moaned. He always moaned. You'd think he'd never felt anything around his cock except his own fingers. Actually, he hadn't. People thought all kids went around screwing all the time, but it wasn't true. Some kids did, some didn't. She was the only one who knew it, but Rich Bailey was a virgin at seventeen-pushing-eighteen. Surprising, since he was cute and kind of popular, but it was the truth. He'd confessed it to her one night at the drive-in when he was lying on her and begging her to let him put it in.
"My knees are hurting," Nancy complained pettishly, and she let go of his rod. He groaned, thrust it at her. "Sit down," she told him, patting the blanket. He sat down, moving awkwardly with his pants around his knees. Nancy moved toward him when he was in position. He looked at her with hope gleaming in his eyes. She leaned in cozily close and gave him a big wet kiss all over his mouth and chin, and her hand grasped his pecker. He put his arm around her and held her tightly, trying to get his tongue inside her mouth. She giggled, finally let him in. She started to suck his tongue while she fondled his dick.
Their mouths parted. She looked down at his rigid tool, where its cherry red knob protruded from her closed fist, and she smiled. Leaning down, she let her tongue slide across the very end of him. Only a light touch, but he grabbed her head eagerly, tried to shove her down onto his cock. Nancy wriggled free. "If you want to play rough," she said, "I'm not going to play."
"No, please, don't stop," he said huskily. "I'm sorry. I just got carried away. But it felt so good with your tongue on me, it was all hot and wet, and-oh, shit, Nancy, why won't you suck it? You sucked it last weekend at the drive-in, didn't you? You even let me come in your mouth. Why not now?"
"Because I don't want to," she replied. "I just want to play with your dick. Why are you always so horny, anyway?" His hand was creeping up her thigh, toward the lacy edge of her panties. She didn't stop him, not even when his fingers slid under the legband and into the triangular patch of dark hair between her thighs. She felt his fingertip graze her snug, tight crack, set squarely in the middle of a plump little pussy bun, and nice feelings spread from her belly through her whole body. He tickled her again, and this time he brushed her clit. It must have been an accident. He didn't know a clit from a cow's ass.
"Nancy," he said hesitantly. She looked up. "About the pictures...." Her eyebrows lifted in an unspoken question. "Well, can I have just a couple of them? Just one or two?"
"Why, no!" she said. "They're pictures of me, aren't they? What good would they be to you? Or would you maybe look at them while you do this, hmmmm?" and her hand raced up and down his stiff dong for a couple of moments. Rich's face screwed and tensed and he looked as if he wanted to give a rebel yell. She slowed down her jerking and his eyes opened. They were a little glassy. .
She thought of something that might be fun. "Leggo," she said, pushing his hand out of her panties. He withdrew grudgingly. She rose to her knees, pulled down her pants. He stared with gleaming glassy eyes at her patch of dark fur and the pink slice that seemed to peek from amid the curls. She threw her leg across his lap and straddled him.
Coming down slowly, she let the head of his cock slide through her pubic fur, even let it graze the pink slice of her twat itself. It felt good, especially when he touched her clitoral knob, and her ass did a little jiggle. "That feels great," Rich said, holding her by the hips. He started to pull and she knew what he was planning.
"Unh-uhhh!" she announced sharply, rising. His cock flopped, stiff rigid, still unsatisfied. His hand reached for her pussy, and he made a fist on the sweet little hairy bun. She could feel the squish, the juices leaking out of her hole, and the sticky sensation between her legs was a real turn-on.
Almost as much a turn-on as the pictures she'd let him take. It was last Sunday afternoon, right here in the woods. He'd come up to take her for a drive, and he'd brought the camera, just as she'd told him to. "Pull over here," she had said, and he'd gone up the familiar dirt track. And for the next half hour they'd gone the HUSTLER route, Nancy showing it all for his snapping Polaroid. They'd watch the photos develop before then delighted eyes, and talk about what they'd do next, and he was bone-hard in his pants before the session was half finished. She really got on, being naked in front of the little camera, seeing the evidence. Maybe she a future in modeling. God knew she didn't want a future in West Virginia, doing nothing for the rest of her life like everyone else in the goddamn backwoods state! She'd thought about sending the pictures to PLAYBOY or some magazine like that, but what if they wanted to make her a centergold girl and then found out she was only sixteen?
Rich wanted some of the pictures, but there was no way. He said he wouldn't show them to a living soul, but she knew as sure as hell that he'd be passing them around the locker room soon as he got his hands on them. No, the pictures were in her dresser drawer and there they'd stay until she could find a way to use them for her own advantage. Anyway, it had been fun, and she'd given him a really super hand job after it was done, played with his pecker till the cum was squirting eight or ten feet, big sticky globs blasting from him. Hadn't taken long to get him off, either. He almost came in his pants when she lay down on thygrass and opened her legs and pussy for the all-seeing camera and he was only a few feet away, finger trembling on the button, the pink velvet of her pussy spread out in front of him. And when she'd slyly inserted a finger into her juicy, wet little pie ..! How he got through that without gooing up his shorts was a miracle! Oh, she'd have to let him look at the Polaroids again, probably, but he wasn't getting any of them.
She slid off him. "Put your hand on my pussy and play with me," she commanded. "Tickle me and stroke me and slide your fingers around. But don't stick them inside, like you tried to do the last time. Got it?" He nodded. She lay down beside him, her pussy within reach of his hand, and he started following her instructions to the letter. His nervous fingers attacked her pussylips, teasing them, rubbing the sticky moisture back into her warm young flesh, and Nancy smiled in approval. She began to stroke his cock again, this time with all the expertise at her command, and she had plenty of that. She'd first played with a boy's thingie when she was in grade school and she had never lost the almost child-like enthusiasm it brought her. Rich's fingers opened her cunt and one of them started to work its way inside. "Unhuhhhh!!!" she said. But she didn't speak until the tip of his middle finger had wormed itself about half an inch into her tight smooth hole. Sighing, he withdrew. A girl had to be careful.
The other girls on the majorette squad thought it was scandalous that one of them, the prettiest of them, was still a virgin. And had no intention of changing her status. "You've gotta do it sometime," the girls used to tell her. "So why not do it?"
"Because," Nancy would reply, "there's no use doing it with someone who doesn't know the first thing about fucking. If you think I'm gonna throw my cherry away on some twelfth-grade stud just because he looks good on the football field, you've got another think coming! The man who gets me-and I mean MAN, girls-is going to get something worth getting. Not a piece of used merchandise that's been spoiled and mishandled."
Rich Bailey was not the MAN she had in mind. He was okay for fun, but she had no intention of spreading her legs for him. His cock would not be the one that punctured Nancy Wetzel's cherry. She closed her eyes as she played with his prong, as his fingers slid across her oozing cunt, and she thought of men. The world was full of them. Real men. Guys with muscles and big dicks and hot desires. She'd gotten along sixteen years without actually putting out, and she could afford to wait a little longer.
Someone big and rough, she thought, that's what I'd like. A man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. Rich is usually on such a short fuse he'd probably come before he got it up to my cherry, let alone past! And from what I hear around school, there aren't any dynamite studs roaming the corridors of West Marion High. So what if I wait till I'm eighteen, even? When it happens, it will be because I'm ready and because the guy is the right guy.
She squeezed Rich's cock, heard him moan, felt the tingle of his fingers as they once more accidentally located her clit. A little tingle spread through Nancy, too. She worked her hand up and down on his pecker. "Yeah," he gasped, "oh, yeah!" And she thought about her father. That was a funny direction for her mind to be wandering, but her pussy was getting hotter and she had less and less control over her head. Daddy. Big, probably could be rough when he wanted. He used to play football, and he hadn't let his body go to hell. Hard work kept his frame muscular and well-toned. Sometimes he wore slacks that fit him snugly in the crotch. She'd seen his bulge-couldn't really keep from noticing, and he was pretty well hung. Built like a man. That's the kind of stud I'm looking for, she thought. Someone like my old man.
For a moment she wondered idly what Daddy was like in bed. Not much, if she could trust the vibes at home. Mom was so tight-assed it was a clear bet she wasn't getting what she needed in the bedroom. Maybe Daddy's cock had gone senile prematurely. But on the other hand, she'd seen the way he looked at her sometimes, especially when she was wearing some little skimpy outfit around the house, and there had been a gleam in his eyes that had damn little to do with senility. That day she was in the backyard tanning, and she'd slid her pants down a little, to expose a bit of her ass to the sun. Glancing over her shoulder, she'd seen him watching her through the kitchen window, and, God! what a look on his face! If he hadn't been her father, she'd almost have sworn he was getting turned on!
Rich's fingers played nervously with her pussy lips. She was getting very wet, the way she always did when she was pussy-tickled. He opened her tight labes, not very far but enough to make Nancy purse her lips and "Ooohhh" at the stretching. She closed her eyes and sighed, but she didn't miss a stroke on his pecker.
She wished she could talk him into going down on her. Talk was, getting head was a lot more fun than giving it, for a girl. She wasn't sure about that. She'd blown a few cocks, even let boys come in her mouth, and she liked it, but she didn't want anyone to get the impression that she was an easy blowjob, so she said "No" and lot more often than she said "Yes." Was that the reason? Preserving her reputation? Nancy smiled. She liked to hear boys beg for it, and she liked to pretend she was giving it very serious thought and then tell them, "Unh-uhhh!" She liked to make them think they were gonna get it and then pop their balloons. Once she'd let a guy-not Rich, this was all the way back in junior high, when most of the other girls had started fucking and went half crazy trying to get all the cock up their pussies they could-once she'd let a guy rub her lips with the end of his pecker and she'd even felt him slip inside her hole, just a little bit, the head of his stiff dick parting her labes and moving into the greasy tightness of her twat. Then she'd jerked back, shaking her head, watching with repressed glee as his face went red and then pale and his pecker just seemed to melt in front of her. She enjoyed being a bitch and a tease.
Her hand got sensuous on his cock, and she considered purring, "I won't do any more till you get down and lick my pussy, Rich," but the impulse passed. He probably didn't know how in the first place. But the thought of his face between her legs, his tongue burrowing into the folds and crevices of her pussy, wetness dripping onto her own wetness. She sighed in pleasure, oozed her twat against his exploring fingers. Tonight, she thought, tonight I think I'll get out the vibrator.-It was hidden away with her pictures, in a dresser drawer, safe from prying eyes. She'd never used it on herself the way she'd seen models doing in a couple of Daddy's skin mags, never stabbed it up her pussy. Only some slow, lingering stimulation around the outside of her cuntal bun and the gentle, almost shy insinuation of the vibrator's very tip within the tight petals of her pussy. Made her feel good enough, and it didn't endanger her carefully preserved status as a virgin. She was gonna wash her hah tonight; the sound of the hah dryer would drown the noise of the buzzing vibrator, and she'd lock her bedroom door and turn up the radio just to be safe.
"Are we still going out Friday?" Rich asked, smoothing her pussy. Nancy sighed, shrugged. Her hand was moving slowly up and down his stiff rod. "I guess so," she nodded. Rich was starting to bore her a little, she would give him back his sweater at the end of the school term, see if she could find somebody else to have fun with. Boys wore out so fast. But when boys were all you had, when you were only sixteen, too young to go after men.
She speeded up her hand. His fingers stiffened against her pussy lips and he just pressed, groaning through clenched teeth. She felt his dick get hard, firm as a bone inside frozen flesh, and she squeezed while she shucked him, and then she said, "Quick, gimme your handkerchief!"
He was too slow in responding. His cum flew into the ah, and it kept oozing from him in a sticky river that drained back down his upright shaft, messing her hands. She looked down at the creamy fluid, and she could smell the oyster aroma of it, and the stuff was already beginning to clot on her fingers. She let go of him, shaking her hand, and she watched the bubbles of semen form among the sparse hairs that grew around the base of his cock. He was panting, heavily, holding out his handkerchief. Nancy took it, wiped her hand, then gave it back to Rich. He dried off his cock, clutched it, for a long sighing moment, and when he looked up, Nancy was pulling up her jeans. She leaned over, got her shirt, maneuvered hah and body, and he watched as her nipples and tits disappeared from his sight. "You'd better take me home," Nancy said, turning, buttoning up the shirt. "It's after four now, and my old lady will raise hell with me for being so late."
"Can I stay a little while?" he asked hopefully, pulling up his own pants. "Maybe she won't holler if I'm around. And I don't want to have to go home and not see you again till tomorrow."
"No," Nancy said firmly, shaking her hah back over her shoulders. It fell to her hips, shimmering strands of gold. I have it all, she thought. Face, hah, legs, ass-it would be nice if my tits were a little bigger, but they're okay too, and she confirmed it by cupping her hands over the apple-sized mounds beneath her shirt. "Mmmm," she purred. "No, really. I have to wash my hah tonight." And do a couple of other things, she reminded herself with a smirk.
He let her off in front of the house and she watched as he turned his car, started back down the road. He waved goodbye and she waved back. Then Nancy went up the porch steps and into the house.
CHAPTER SIX
The first thing she noticed coming into the living room was that the television wasn't turned on. Mom was usually glued to the set. Of course, Nancy supposed, housewives probably had damn little else to do but watch soap operas and get wet-pantied over Bert Convy. But it was strange she wasn't in her now, eyeballing the delayed broadcast of DAYS OF OUR LIVES. Nancy's gaze fell upon the coffee table, and her heart almost jumped out of her mouth.
"Ohmygod," she said, bending over. The Polaroids were scattered across the table top, some of them lying on the floor. She picked one up. It was the one where she had the tip of her finger inserted slyly into her pink little pussy.
Nancy felt the hot flush spreading across her face. How in the name of shit had Mom found these? Had she been snooping? Sweet holy Jesus! Nancy's stomach turned upside down. Ohhhh....
One of the sofa cushions was out of place. Usually Mom kept the furnishings in pretty good order. Nancy moved toward the sofa, and she started to set the cushion down. It moved, and she closed her young eyes, groaning softly. Her vibrator was lying under the cushion. Something told Nancy that the shit was dangerously close to hitting the fan, and when it did, some big turds were gonna be flying in her direction. "Damn," she muttered, gathering up the pictures. She'd hide them again, deny they had ever existed. Mom wouldn't dare bring up the subject when Daddy was around, and she could brazen her way through it. She wasn't scared of her mother. No, by God!
Where the hell was Mom, anyway? The VW was in the garage; she'd seen that as she got out of Rich's car. If the VW was here, so was Mom. She stuffed the telltale Polaroids inside her shirt, grabbed the vibrator, and made tracks toward her bedroom, thinking all the while, where would she hide these things? Christ, how had Mom come to find them in the first place? Didn't anyone have any privacy any more? She opened the door and went into her room, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust to what she could see, happening on her own bed.
* * *
Deanna looked up, wiping with futile hands at the cum that smeared her face. Bone shoved home in her pussy and she moaned, and then she said, "No, for Chrissake, stop!" and Bone finally got the message. He pulled his dick out of her cunt and turned slowly, and all eyes were focused on Nancy, standing in the doorway, her face white under its tan. Deanna sat up. "Get out!" she said. "Run, get some help!"
Nancy looked at her mother, lying stark naked, pale, and at the two men who were with her. Greasy-looking dudes, neither of them wearing anything except sleeveless denim jackets and hard-ons. One, a red-haired guy, was on the bed with Mom, and his pecker was dripping. She'd come through the door just in time to see his cock spurt cum all over Mom's face. The other one, standing between Mom's spread legs, was enormously tall, and so skinny it must have hurt. He came around very slowly and Nancy felt her head swim when she saw the size of the prick jutting from his groin. My God! she thought. That thing can't be real! It was at least a foot long, oh, no, even longer!
"I-I thought you spent your days watching soap operas, Mom," Nancy said finally, in a small voice. Her voice might have been muted but her mind was blaring like a trumpet-you've got the upper hand now, she told herself. What are a few naked snapshots compared to what you just saw? Christ, she thought, I could blackmail her for the rest of my life on this!
"Nancy!" Deanna pleaded, trying to cover her tits, her pussy.
"Well," Nancy said, regaining some of her composure, "I'll just leave you to your fun. But hadn't you better hurry? Daddy will be hornyin a little while, and...." she was turning then, her long golden hair swishing in the air. There was a thump on the floor and something grabbed her hah and she came jerking back through the doorway she'd started to go out. Her head spun around and she said to the red-haired man, "Leggo of me, you cummy cocksucker!"
"If it isn't-but it is! Mmm," Red added, "you look a lot better in the flesh than you do in pictures. Polaroid just doesn't do your skin tone any justice, you know?" As he spoke, he was pulling her long hair and she was moving with him, back across the room, toward the bed. She struck at him with her fists, and she snarled curses that sent chills up her mother's spine, but he didn't pay any attention to the blows of her hands nor to her words. "Look, Bone," he told his stupendously hung friend, "it's the girl who wants to be the HUSTLER honey."
"Huh?" Bone asked. He reached out, touched the golden hair. As he did, his cock point brushed against Nancy's tummy. She shied away.
"Sure," Red said. "Have you forgotten already?" He let go of Nancy's hair and she just had time to breathe before he put his hands on her shirt and ripped it down the front. The pictures and the vibrator spilled out, onto the floor, and Nancy screamed. She raised her hands to cover her tits but Red intercepted, spread her arms wide. "Look at those tits, Bone," he invited. "Now do you remember?"
"The tits," Bone said. My God, thought Nancy, he's a fucking moron! The fucking moron stared at her big-nippled boobs, then reached for them with both hands. He clamped down, squeezed until the nipples grew fatter, tauter, against his palms, and Nancy moaned.
"Please," Deanna said, "don't hurt her-don't-" and then she stopped. She sat back on the bed, stared at her daughter, half naked, being manhandled by the two thugs whose lusts the mother had already experienced. Damn you, she thought, damn you, Nancy, how much of this is your fault in the first place? She looked down at the floor, saw the pictures and the vibrator. The little bitch had hidden them in her shirt. She was probably going to stash them away and try to bluff her way out of the whole thing. Well, she thought, for once, Nancy isn't getting away with it all. For once she's in something that's too big for her to handle with a cute smile and a flouncy ass.
"Who are these assholes?" Nancy asked, shivering. Bone was cupping one of her tits, working his finger back and forth over the nipple. "Who are they, Mom? What the fuck is going on here?"
Deanna was shocked at the language her daughter was using. Nancy had a vulgar mouth for a sixteen-year-old. What would her father think if he could hear her now? If he could see her now? A wicked but satisfying thrill passed through Deannaa Wetzel's body. She hadn't realized until this very moment how much she really did hate her daughter.
"They are a pair of thugs who broke into the house and raped me," she said crisply, coolly. "They are fugitives from the law and they are extremely dangerous. They gave me my choice-I could be raped or I could be killed. I suppose you're in for the same. After all, they're criminals and you're a witness, too."
Red laughed. "By Christ, you took the words right out of my mouth, lady! Come on, Nancy-that's your name, isn't it? Slide out of those jeans. Let's see if your pussy looks as nice in real life as in photographs." He put his hand on her ass. "Mmmm, feels young and smooth, Bone. You like that, don't you, old buddy?"
"Like it tight," Bone said. He was pushing against Nancy with his gigantic cock, touching her again and again, sometimes below the waist, sometimes above, the warm wet end of him brushing her bare belly. She looked at her mother, relaxed, almost, on the bed, and she thought-she is enjoying this! How does she keep from smiling? She wants to!
Nancy felt hands around her waist and the button of her jeans popped open. "No!" she squealed, reaching down, but it was too late. Red dragged the pants down her quivering thighs, pulling them over her kicking feet as Bone lifted her up from the floor. Jesus, he was skinny, but was he ever strong!
"Now for the panties," Red said. He was on his knees beside Nancy. Bone had a firm grip on her upper body and she knew it was futile to resist. Red hooked his thumbs in her waistband and slid the peppermint striped bikinis slowly, very slowly, downwards. He leaned close as the upper edge of her dark beaver came into view and his nostrils twitched.
"I smell pussy," Red announced. "And it does smell good!"
He jerked then, pulling her panties down in one quick lunge, and he thrust his face into Nancy's crotch. She squealed and tried to kick at him, but all it accomplished was separation of her legs. Red grasped her slender, tanned thighs, and he worked his face up into her crotch, making loud, gluttonous noises. "Yabbadabbadoo!"
"he chortled, sounding as if he had a mouthful of hair.
"Oh, shit!" Nancy groaned, collapsing against Bone. She raised her hands, made fists of them, then let them drop. One of her hands touched Bone's erect cock as it fell. Her eyes opened and her face got red. Her fingers pressed the incredibly long tool. It wasn't so thick, she decided, touching it. God, she told herself, what if this tool was as thick as it was long? She closed her eyes and, though she certainly didn't intend for it to happen, her fingers closed too, around the middle portion of Bone's pecker.
"Feel my cock," the slender man said.
And then Red's tongue wiggled up, into her pussy, slipping past her tight portals. She was plenty wet down there, thanks to the little session of petting in the woods with Rich. She'd planned a lovely evening of masturbation for herself, but it looked as if her plans had been interfered with. His tongue glided across her clitoris, and he put his hand on her pussy, spreading the snug labes, and she began to care a little less. It really did feel just the way the girls at school had told her it would! Wet, limber, sliding all over her.
"Oh, you son of a bitch!" she said as he kissed her clit. She could feel the oozy flow of honey from her hole. The tip of his finger lay upon the mouth of her tight pink pussy and she knew that he could feel it too. His lips nuzzled at her clit and Nancy's button was throbbing with excitement. She could feel the pulsation all up and down her body. Her hand tightened on Bone's rod. His arm tightened around her waist. She opened her eyes, saw her mother on the bed, taking it all in. The old bitch seemed to be gloating. Nancy had never realized how much she hated her mother. Red's tongue touched something sensitive, something she had never even discovered in her twat with the aid of her fingers or her vibrator, something that apparently could respond only to the frisky pressure of a tongue. Nancy's mouth made a big, glossy-lipped O and she said, "Christ! Do that again!" Without realizing it, she'd begun to work her hand back and forth on Bone's cock, masturbating him with the same practiced ease she had used to blow Rich Bailey's nuts in the woods.
"Somebody's been stirring this porridge," Red announced. "A cunt doesn't get so tasty all by itself." He came up slowly, pausing to kiss and suckle the ends of Nancy's tits. She had little triangular patches of white flesh at the tips of her boobs, but the large bubbles of pink nipple more than made up for the contrasting skin tones. "Ah!" she said as his teeth dug into her soft, puffy nipple, and her fist became a vise on Bone's stiff tool.
"I suppose you're going to rape her, too," Deanna called from the bed. Look at the slut! she thought. She's enjoying it! Wait until they fill her with that broomstick cock of Bone's! Wait until Red sits on her tits and makes her suck that dick of his until the sour jism fills her snippy little mouth. Just wait till then!
And she moved back on the bed, but she was thinking, Red's semen didn't taste so bad, did it? He'd fired into her mouth twice, she'd drunk his seed. She could still find traces of it under her tongue. Deanna pursed he lips, savored the lingering traces of Red's sperm. He didn't eat me, she thought. He ate Nancy but he didn't eat me. Is there something wrong with my cunt? Or is it just that she makes him hotter? The slut!
Nancy felt herself being moved toward the bed. "Uh, wait a min," she tried to say, pushing hair out of her face. Red shoved her onto the bed, face first. She fell, he pushed her across the narrow bed until her head was hanging over the far side. His hands were on her ass, on her pussy, toying with the tight labes of her snatch, making them pop open, and the sticky moisture of her ovaries dripped from the hole. His finger poked inside, up into her tightness. "God!" she said, gasping. "Will you wait?" She looked over her shoulder. "This had gone far enough," she added. "I mean, you can't do this to me, I'm-"
Deanna pushed her daughter's shoulders down, planted her knee on Nancy's back. "Just pretend it's your vibrator," she said. "Or that you're getting it in the woods from that boy with the Polaroid. The way you stripped yourself, and spread yourself, and let him take pictures of you. You're a slut. You deserve what you're going to get!" Nancy groaned. Deanna looked at Red, who was between Nancy's spread thighs, his cock sticking out. "Go ahead," she told him. "You might as well rape the whole family. Make a clean sweep of it."
"Whatever happened to maternal love?" Red asked, stroking his cock from its glowing tip to the red hairs curled around the base. "I almost think you want to see your kid get fucked."
"Get fucked?" Bone said, standing there with his rod sticking out. "We gonna fuck this one too, Red?"
"I want Nancy to have everything that's coming to her," Deanna replied. "But if neither of you is man enough ... I mean, she's not just a defenseless housewife like me...."
"No," Nancy said in a choked, grunting voice, but it was hard for her to speak with her mother's knee pinning her to the bed. Sweet Christ, she thought in despair, my goddamn mother is actually encouraging these goons to rape me! She tried to speak again, but her breath was being cut off, slowly but surely. She panted, gasped, tried to talk, but by that time she could feel bare knees, muscular bony knees, against her bare thighs, spreading her wider. Hands came down, touched the ripe firm cheeks of her ass. "Uh!" she said. The hands spread her buttocks, spread them cruelly, exerting a fierce pressure on the lips of her pussy. She felt her tight little piece of fruit opening wider, wider, wider, lips splaying until they hurt.
THE END of Red's cock bit like a snake at the exposed pink of her pussy hole. Nancy's eyes tolled and she wished to hell she could breathe, but a moment later she had something else on her mind. Red braced his hands on her ass, put his hips into gear, and he plunged his cock up her tight cunt in one stabbing penetration that tore her cherry and sent white-hot pain throughout Nancy.
She screamed then, a shrill choked-off cry, but his groin slammed home, hard, against the swell of her ass, and he was in her, God, was he in her, he was all the fucking way in her! The cherry she'd been guarding against all those locker room Romeos from school was gone, and her snatch was all wet and sore inside, probably full of blood-it was damn sure full of cock! She moaned, the ability to scream again beyond her now, and her head dropped.
"Son of a bitch," Red said, looking at Deanna who was still pinning her daughter to the bed. "Was this what you wanted, lady?" he asked, withdrawing his cock partially from the young girl's pussy. Deanna leaned forward to take a look and she saw the blood on Red's tool.
She stared at the bloody dick. "Oh, God," she said, sliding her knee off Nancy's back. "What have I done?"
Nancy was making little mewling sounds. Hair had fallen into her face and she pushed it out of the way. She could breathe again. That redheaded guys cock had moved inside her. There was a little tenderness when he moved, when he pulled back a little from his deep penetration, but it didn't hurt. Only for that single moment when he'd broken her cherry. She stirred her butt. The tenderness spread around and around inside her twat, and it began to feel less and less like pain. One hip lifted, then the other. She felt him giving a testing stab into her and she said, "Ooohhh!", almost giggling. Her face reddened. The cock moved harder, deeper. "Ohhhhh!" and her head lifted, golden hah swishing. "It-it's nothing like I thought it would be."
Deanna's face clouded. She was still trying to come to grips with the fact that her daughter had been a virgin until a few moments ago. The vibrator she'd found, the pictures-it didn't seem possible, but the red stains of proof were there, on Red's cock. She looked down at Nancy's body, where the slender, tanned legs spread out in a wide-angled V, where the wedge of Red's pecker, flecked with blood near the base, was still thrust into Nancy's ravished hole. While she watched, Red played an inch of his prick into Nancy and the girl's ass wiggled up and down. "Oooohhh," Nancy said, breathlessly. Red stared at Nancy's bouncing butt, then he looked at Deanna and winked. He planted his hands on Nancy's ass and gave her six or seven fast, deep plunges, and the girl began to moan. Her ass undulated and there was a visible flex of muscles in her thighs. "Ooohhhh," Nancy said again. Red shrugged, grinned at Deanna, and he started to fuck Nancy.
For real, this time, moving his cock into the girl with hard, boogie-woogie strokes, pulling out on the offbeat and shoving it home again. Nancy kept moaning and her legs and ass twitched in response. "Everybody has to start sometime, don't they?" Red smiled. Deanna flushed and turned away.
Nancy clutched at the bedspread, twisted it, rolled it between her sweating palms. It didn't hurt at all now. God, she hadn't thought it would happen this way! All she'd wanted to do for Chrissake was tickle her cunt with the vibrator while she dried her hair! But she'd walked into a scene that could only be described as weird, and she was in it up to her ass.
She'd been more than usually turned on in the woods with Rich, for one thing. He's tickled some sticky juices out of her hole with his not-too-deft fingers, and he's stirred up a little whirlwind of desire in Nancy. If she'd known what was waiting inside the house she might not have come in at all. But now that she was here-what choice did she have? Her cherry was gone! She could feel the blood mixing with her sticky pussy goo, and the little flashes of remembered pain as Red punched his dick into her. But it hadn't hurt all that much, and it was something that couldn't be fixed no matter how hard you tried or how much you wished and, God, Debbie Collins was right about one thing! The first time you felt a cock sliding up and down your tunnel, pushing clear to the end of the tube and wiggling there, pulling back and coming up the road again-well, it really was like nothing she'd ever felt before!
She couldn't keep her ass from bobbing up and down. The guy would push into her and her butt would just automatically lift itself up to meet his thrust, and he'd seem to go even deeper that way, as far up her cunt as he could go, and his belly was warm and a bit hairy-ticklish against the smooth curved swell of her ass, and he kept her legs spread widely, so that her pussy seemed to snap in tightly around the shaft of his rod. It was a tight fit, but the tightness didn't stop him from moving in and out as easily as a knife cutting butter. It sent little chilly shivers through Nancy. Chilly shivers that seemed to warm a little more the closer they got to her pussy. "Oh, wow," she said, pulling at the bedspread. "Oh, God, fucking wow!"
Red jerked his cock out of Nancy and she gave a wailing cry. Her hand flew back to her cunt and she stroked herself. "Jesus," she panted. Deanna saw the dabs of blood on her daughter's fingers as those fingers exerted a caressing massage on the lips of Nancy's pussy.
Red's cock was stained in blood and milky fluids that must have been gurgling out of Nancy's cunt. Deanna sat trembling on the edge of the bed, watching, hardly believing. "Turn over," Red told Nancy, and the girl rolled over obediently. "Shove that hah out of the way. I want to see those tits!"
Nancy flipped her hah back, and her apple-sized breasts with their big pink nipples were on vivid display. The nipples were stiff, punchy little tabs erected from the fat gumdrop teats. She brought her hands up, squeezed her tits, made the nipples stick out a little further. She looked up at Red, licking her lips, and then she looked down at his blood-smeared cock. "Wow," she said. "Did I do that?"
"No," Red answered, "I did. And now I'm gonna fuckin' do it again!" He threw himself upon Nancy. She squealed as he fell on top of her, but her knees came up instinctively, and there was a momentary fumbling, Red's hand busy between their bodies, while Deanna watched. Nancy's eyes rolled over in their sockets and her mouth opened in a soundless cry. Red grunted and shoved hard and this time Nancy made a mewling noise. Her knees closed in on Red's flanks and she put her hands on his shoulders, where his bare muscular arms protruded from the cutoff sleeves of the denim jacket. Her fingers clenched on his skin.
"Stop it!" Deanna shouted. "Stop it right now! This has gone far enough!" Her guts were in a turmoil. She stared at the flushed, ecstatic face of her daughter and she hated Nancy, hated her more than ever. It was gone far beyond simple mother-daughter dislike.
"Want to fuck too," Bone announced. Christ! Deanna had almost forgotten about him! She turned around, and the end of his long slender cock was only inches from her face. Deanna gulped and drew back. Bone grabbed her by the shoulder, dragged her toward him. "Suck me again," he said. "I like it when you suck me. I want to put my cock down your throat."
She opened her mouth, not willingly, and he thrust inside, so deep it felt as if he were trying to fulfill his desire for real. Deanna groaned around him and he must have realized the impossibility of getting ah his cock into her mouth, for he slowed up his thrust. He put his hands on her head, kept her stationary, started to work in and out in short, hard thrusts. Deanna gulped hard but she closed her lips and she put her fingers on his base and balls. He sighed aloud when she touched him. "That feels good," he told her, force-feeding her with his tremendously long rod. She stared down at his cock, conscious of how little of him she could actually get inside, how much of the long shaft extended between her lips and his groin. Slowly, her hands began to move on him, up and down the unsucked portion of Bone's long tool, and he sighed again.
No! It wasn't him making the sound! It was coming from beside her. Deanna shifted her eyes to the left, and she saw that Red was pumping his cock into Nancy now, fucking her in hot, heavy strokes. The girl was almost on her side, one leg drawn high and wrapped around Red's body, and Deanna could see the constant in-out progression of the biker's stiff pecker. Nancy's head was thrown back, and her hair fanned out like a pillow across the bed. Her eyes were closed, her face was flushed, and she was making little chirpy sounds. Red had his hands on her shoulders and his mouth was on her tits, sucking those pink nubbins as he kept on stabbing her with his prick. There were still traces of blood on the shaft of his pecker, the blood of Nancy's cherry. God, Deanna thought, she was a virgin, an honest-to-God virgin, no matter what else, and I-I more or less forced them to rape her!
"Dear God," Nancy moaned, swaying her hips as the stiff dong continued to plow her newly-harrowed field, and her fingers were still tight on Red's shoulders. One hand slid up and down his back, petting him, reaching as low as his bare ass. Her fingers tickled lightly across his buttocks, into the crack, and when she got there, he gave her two or three fast hard strokes in a row, pecker plunges that made Nancy wiggle a hell of a lot more. Ooohhs and ahhhhs kept sliding from her wet lips-that is, when her tongue wasn't sliding across those lips, making them wetter and wetter still. Her eyes were closed most of the time but there was no way another woman could mistake the expression on Nancy's face. If it had begun as rape, it had turned into something else.
Red smacked his lips as he left off sucking Nancy's tits and lifted his face. He slammed his mouth down on hers and his tongue went into her mouth, and she didn't hesitate in her response. She knew all about kissing and petting. Well, she thought, I'm learning about something else now, and I really wonder why I waited this long? Did it count as rape when you kissed the guy who raped you? She wasn't sure. She did kiss him, though, again and again, as often as his mouth ground against hers, as often as his tongue wiggled wetly into her mouth. And that reminded her of how his tongue had felt, slithering across her pussy, the first time she'd ever been licked by someone who was willing to do it and who knew what and where to visit with his frisky tongue.
When his body was taut against hers, his hard flesh was grinding down on her clitoral area, rubbing the sensitive button back against her pubic bone, sending new spurts and thrills of excitement through the young girl's body. She wondered if she could ever be content with anything less again. Twenty minutes ago she'd been lying on the blanket with Rich Bailey, stroking his cock until it gushed goo all over her fingers. She'd grown up in the past twenty minutes. Once upon a time cock-teasing had been lots of fun. She didn't think she'd be doing much teasing in the future.
Mom had said something about these guys being dangerous criminals of some sort. She didn't understand what was going on, but she knew that she and her mother were in the hands of people who didn't play by the standard rules of the game. Death had been mentioned. But, God, could a guy fuck you like this guy was fucking her and then kill you? She clutched Red with her pussy and her legs and her arms and she told herself that he could not.
Theh mouths came apart, and she said, "I never let anyone get inside me, you know?"
"I know," Red said. "My dick is still bloody." Nancy had the grace to blush. He cupped her tits with his big hard hands, squeezed them hard, fed his prick up her sluice in eager plunges. "You're not bad for a virgin."
"You're not bad for a criminal," Nancy replied, smiling, then giving an "Ahhhhh" of delight as he plunged certain areas deep in her twat. She wrapped her legs around him and her hands both went down to his ass. "I think I like this," Nancy admitted, pulling him into her furry little cunt. Juice filled her cunt and Red's cock squished as it made penetration again and again.
"I wanna fuck too," Bone said in his monotone voice. He pulled his cock from Deanna's frantically sucking mouth.
Deanna looked around, at the disgusting spectacle of Nancy embracing her rapist, of Nancy loving the degradation that had been thrust upon her. Or was it degradation? Deanna watched the in-out progress of Red's cock, and her pussy began to itch. Hadn't all this come about in large measure because of that itch in her twat? Because her marriage had long since failed to satisfy her? Because her husband was so hooked on Nancy he had no time left for the wife who shared his life and his bed? She dropped her hand into her lap, felt the wetness seeping from her puffy, protruding cuntal lips. I was almost on the point of coming when Nancy walked in, she reminded herself. Bone's cock. Not a thick one, but a big one, and it was fucking me do deep, so hard, putting the meat to me where I really needed some meat. She stroked her lips, and her finger slipped between them, and she was inside herself, massaging the sticky-wet slickness of her vulva, rubbing her clit, and Bone's cock, frothy with her spittle extended before her face.
"There isn't room on the bed," she pointed out. Nancy and Red were into it now, thrashing about, rocking and rolling. Bone just grinned. He grabbed Deanna's hand, pulled her up in one quick jerk.
"Bend over and touch your toes," he said. It might have been the most complex sentence he'd spoken since the moment she met him. Deanna looked up at the tall, lean man, her eyes uncertain. He put his hand on the back of her head and shoulders forward. She staggered but caught her balance. "Touch your toes," Bone repeated.
Bone worked his thigh between her legs, motioned for them to separate more widely. Deanna was in no frame of mind to resist. She spread her legs. And as she did, he touched the crack of her ass with his cocktip, pushing for just a moment at her anus. Deanna squealed. She'd tried assfucking a couple of times with Vic, times when she'd been on the rag and a regular screw had been too messy to contemplate. Christ! How long had it been that both of them were so horny they couldn't wait for her period to end so they could get it on? Years! But she hadn't cared for the weird feeling of a cock sliding up her asshole, and she said, "No, not there, Bone, please, not there!"
The head of his cock slipped lower, and it moved onto the bulge of her pussy. The lips were protruding, and they were coated in sticky wetness. Bone guided his tool with his hand, coating himself in the juices fomenting out of Deanna's twat, and she choked back a sigh as she felt him easing between her labes, testing the angle at which her pussy was offered. "Yes," she said, "Yes, do it!"
His stiff cock wormed into her hole and plunged hard, harder than she had expected, deeper too. "Ohmygod," Deanna said, softly, not nearly so loud as the moans coming from Nancy on the bed. Bone thrust, and she moaned too, loudly!
Her pussy juices began to roil round the lance of his cock and she gripped her knees tightly. Her ass jiggled from side to side, making his dick enter her at angles which varied slightly but oh, so significantly! Deanna closed her eyes, and she shut out of her ears the noises Red and Nancy were making on the bed. She wanted nothing on her mind but her own pleasure. God, it had been so long! She'd been on the point of reacting when Nancy walked into the room, and her body, once heated, took almost no time at all to reach a boil once more.
The position was awkward, more so than making love in the front seat of a '57 Chevy at the Starlite Drive-in. But it was something new, and even if there was a slight sense of degradation in being bent over almost double while a moronic man with a horse's cock worked himself in and out of her dripping cunt, it wasn't a bad situation. Bad was what she had been through the last few years, realizing that her husband was less and less interested in making love to her. Bad was the simmer of desire in her body and the inability to fulfill that desire. Bad was doing without, and good was getting it, and my God, she was getting it! Bone's prick slid in and out of her juicy twat and she held her knees more tightly, straining against the long slender pecker that kept stabbing her at her most vulnerable spot.
She felt the pressure building inside her body, the pent-up lust that could only explode. It had gone so far now, there was no turning back. She was going to come, and she knew it, and she bit her lips, urging her body with silent twitches and flexes to cooperate, to give her what she wanted, what she needed.
Nancy gave a shrill piercing cry. Deanna chilled. "Aaaahhhh!" Nancy thrilled in her sweet clear soprano voice, and there was no mistaking the significance of that cry. She was coming! Her pussy was afire, exploding around the cock that had killed her virginity and turned her into a woman. Red's deeper-pitched grunts and groans were to be heard as well, and they were the sounds of a man working hard on the task at hand-in this case, fucking Nancy the rest of the way into the come that was swallowing her right now.
"Do it to me," Deanna panted, shaking her ass. "I need it a hell of a lot more than she does!"
And she reached back between her legs, found Bone's cock where almost half the tool extended from her pussy, unable to penetrate her any deeper. She caressed the taut, rock-stiff root of him, slid her fingers down onto his balls, gave them a pinching squeeze.
"Ouch," Bone said, and the monotone quality of his voice made it sound funny as hell. Deanna began to laugh. My God, she told herself, I've gone insane! I've gone totally insane! I have been sexually assaulted in my own home, and I've helped these animals rape my own daughter, and now I'm begging this particular animal to fuck me! Oh, Christ, listen to that little slut moan and pant. I know how she feels, how her pussy is rippling up and down, sucking that cock while it slicks in and out. The juice is oozing from her hole, making her pussy hairs all wet and swampy. I think I can even smell the aroma of her wet hot cunt, like bread baking in an oven, the kind of smell you can't miss, can't ignore, and it's not fah. She's just a snotty-nose little kid, why should her heart be thumping so fast, her brain spinning round and round, her nipples so excited and tense and stiff, her pussy a mass of frayed-raw nerve endings?
"Oh, goddamn you," she shouted, "will you fuck me or won't you?" And she began to hump and buck, against Bone, her cunt swallowing as much of his cock as she could take, and a little more besides. She gasped with pain and pleasure as he probed stiffly, deeply, up her pussy, and she arched her back, spread her legs more widely, making her cuntal labes tighten around his slender long rod. He grabbed her by the ass. "I'll fuck," he said in his one-note voice, and by God, he did!
She staggered under the overwhelming force of his attack, she staggered forward, and Bone followed her with his dick, and he kept ramming it in and out of her. There was a stand near the bed, just a little table with a digital alarm clock sitting on top. Deanna, gasping, grabbed at the table legs. The table shook, the alarm clock fell off and hit the floor with a resounding clash and she shoved the table smack against the wall, the strongest brace she could find. Bone moved with her, every step of the way, and he kept fucking her, and he was making soft, throaty sounds. His cock squished in her juicy twat, and she felt the head of him go all the way to her uterus, and she wondered if there was some way she could open her womb and take him right into her fucking belly.
"Jesus," she whimpered as he kept force-feeding her with his twelve-inch-plus prong, "they ought to cut that thing in two and make two studs out of you, Bone! Then I could take one of you in my cunt and the other one in my mouth. I'd suck you, Bone, suck you while you fucked me. Is that a crazy idea? My God, I think I'm going crazy!"
"I wouldn't want anybody to do that," Bone said. "I like to fuck." He sounded so serious, and there was a slight rise in his inflection that made the sentence sound like a pondered question. But he didn't miss a single stroke into Deanna's churning twat, and she groaned aloud, shoving the table hard against the wall. Nancy's cries and purrs had slowed to a low murmur and Deanna couldn't hear the springs bouncing now. She tried to imagine her daughter's pussy as it must be now, full of Nancy's own juices, probably stuffed to overflow with Red's thick creamy come as well. While she crouched here on the floor, head low, ass high, pussy wide open, waiting for the same thing to happen to her.
She remembered the other time Bone had fucked her, when he'd pulled his cock out of her pussy and squirted his seed onto her belly. Her hand clenched on the root of his tool. She would not let that happen a second time. His cock would fire off inside her. Cum belonged inside a woman. Cum belonged inside Deanna Wetzel. Her body was on fire. She would have fucked anyone, anything now, and she knew that the cock inside her was enjoying a sweet hot ride, that she was giving as good as she received. I'm a good lay, she thought. It's just been so long since I've been able to prove it....
Her body snapped upright for one quick second and she stood Qn tiptoes, shivering, moaning, saying, "Oh, fuck, shit, fuckkkkk...." And it was happening. Bone grunted, bent her forward once more, but she hardly felt his hand on her back or even his cock in her cunt. She was coming. She'd forgotten how good it felt to come, impaled on a man's prick. She remembered fast, remembered every sweet thrilling sensation now, and her knees and head grew weak. Deanna sank onto her knees, Bone dropping with her. Deanna's head was still bent over, and now it was almost touching the floor. "Jesus, fuck me!" she gasped, spitting out the words amid the torrent of sighs and moans, "fuck me, fuck me, I'm commmmmmmmmmm...."
Her hands flailed. The table went spinning out of the way. Her chin sank onto the floor, but her ass was arched high, eager, her pussy lips spread and sucking the hell out of Bone's driving tool. He reached under Deanna, grabbed her soft fleshy tits, dug his fingers into them. "Tits," he said, "I like to play with tits," but his voice was strained now, a sing-songy variation in his pitch, and his cock moved with an insistence that told Deanna's churning twat that Bone, too, was nearing the point of release. She thrust her butt at him, swallowed his tool. Seven, maybe eight inches of him was inside her. She wanted to feel his nuts rocking against the cushy cheeks of her ass but there was no way. Her tube wasn't deep enough to eat all of Bone's peter. But her hand was still back there, between her legs, fondling him while he fucked her, and she pulled fiercely on his cock, forcing it into her again and again, and her fingers slid back a little, slid back till they could touch his swinging balls. She made a cup around them and she squeezed with a devilish, hungry abandon. Bone made a howling sound and his cock went wild in Deanna's pussy. "I'm gonna-"
Before he could finish the sentence, which was almost a shout and so much in contrast to his normal low-pitched, single-toned voice, she felt him thrust and she could feel the vibration as his cock began to unload deep inside her pussy. She squeezed his balls again, her chin rocking on the floor, and she reached into her crotch, found the button of her clit, and she squeezed herself viciously as her hand was working on Bone's nuts. A white-hot flash of pain shot through Deanna, but it was the most fantastic sensation she had ever felt. Her pussy rippled and snugged around the cock that was unloading sperm deep in her tunnel, and she could feel his seed leaking from her lips already, as he filled her to overflow. "Yes, yes yesyesyesyesyesyes...."
CHAPTER SEVEN
She felt Bone's cock melting inside her, the rigid tool going soft while her pussy made its last soft ripples up and down the shaft, and then he was limp and oozing from her like a snake crawling through the grass, and Deanna collapsed onto the floor. I've been fucked, she thought. After so long, so goddamned long, I have been fucked. And I want so much more of it! She lay on the floor, panting like a winded bitch, and her fingers caressed the sticky, cum-dripping labes of her snatch. Her clit ached so much, she couldn't touch herself there, but every time her fingertip got close to the weary button she felt a surge of sweet remembrance flood through her body, and it was almost as good as coming. Almost. Nothing was as good as coming. "My god," she sighed, lying there, her legs still spraddled, her fingers busy on her crack. "Oh, my God, I don't think I ever needed it so badly or loved it so much ... ever...."
Nancy lay on the bed, still wrapped around Red. His cock was in her, but gone soft. She liked the way it felt, all limp and small, cozy, not like the big hard tool that had ravished her. She really dug that hard tool, too! She stroked Red's bare upper arm and she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. If I'd saved it any longer, she thought, it would have rusted. It wasn't the way I imagined it would be, but it was pretty good. Red's belly pushed against hers and she curled her legs around his body again, and she remembered how it felt when he was fucking her. The sudden stab of pain and the gradual easing of tenderness in her twat. By the time it ended, she was fucking him, ramming her cunt up to meet the plunges of his pecker, and she thought, at least I didn't throw it away on some high school boy. I had it from a man who was all man. She felt the ripple of muscles in his thick arm and she said, "Mmm, do you work out or something?"
He wasn't looking at her. She followed the direction of his eyes. He was staring at her mother, who still on the floor, fingering her snatch. Christ! She had watched some of it, her mother willingly surrendering to the fantastic dick on that guy Bone, and she'd heard her mother scream and wail at the moment of orgasm. Sounds that sent chills up and down Nancy's spine. The teenaged girl still couldn't quite believe that this actually was a rape. She didn't feel raped, even though her cherry was gone and blood-flecked cum was oozing from her tight pink gash. She felt-she felt like a woman. Not some bratty little high school chick. She was really, truly, a woman now. She had met man on the traditional battleground and she'd come through it with flying colors. She'd come. God, how she'd come! The memory of that orgasm fluttered through her racing brain and she sighed deeply.
Tickling yourself, with your fingers or with the buzzing end of a vibrator-that was one thing. Getting played with by a boy's hand, or even cuddling a stiff dong between her thighs so that the hardness rubbed insistently along the cleft of her cunt-that was another thing. But getting fucked, actually feeling the thing go into your hole, feeling your twat walls snug shut and tight around it, the in-out penetration of your ass-oh Jesus, she thought, if I'd only guessed it would be like that, I'd not have waited so long!
Bone stood up, panting, and his tool hung to his knees. Nancy stared at it. What a pecker! she thought. Even soft, it's a sight to rival the Grand Canyon! More like the Washington Monument, she added to herself with a repressed giggle. Especially when it was standing up, stiff and hard. No wonder they called him Bone! Nancy tried to imagine the reaction if Bone walked into the girls' shower room at West Marion with that cock hanging down. I'd be the first one on him, she told herself. The very first one. She stared at the dong and she began to lick her lips. Wicked ideas flooded her brain. She began to unclench herself from Red's body, only to notice that he was disengaging himself from her at the same time. "Well," she told him with a little laugh, "I think we have similar ideas."
Nancy slid off the bed, her long legs slick with sweat. She stood up, weaving a little on her feet, and she looked up at Bone's face. God, he was tall! He'd make a good basketball player. Mmm, Nancy told herself, glancing down at his limp prick. She oozed against the tall man and her hand flew instinctively down to grasp his cock.
"What are you doing?" Bone asked in his monotone. Dumb, she thought. He is as dumb as a goddamned ox, but he has a peter like a stud horse. Her hand molded around his pecker and she began to work him with her fingers and wrist. She looked up and her blue eyes were sparkling. "You missed out on the best," she told him. "All you had was my mother. Put your hand right here," and she guided his hand to her sticky crotch. "Stick your finger in me. Feel how tight I am? I was a virgin until you guys got hold of me. I'm not a virgin now, Bone. I've been fucked. I think I'd like to be fucked again. How about you?"
"Fuck?" Bone said, and his lips curled up in a smile. He had brown, uneven teeth, and his breath was not the sweetest Nancy had ever smelled, but his cock was growing in her hand, filling with life, and it felt like a bone inside her fist, a real bone, solid and firm, getting more solid, more firm, each time she squeezed on him. His cock rose as she caressed it, and she couldn't control herself any longer. She dropped to her knees, groveling before the dumb guy in his denim sleeveless jacket, and she opened her mouth, willing to receive his rod.
It tasted funny, unlike any of the other cocks she'd had in her mouth in the past, and after a moment or two of sucking she understood why. Bone's dong was coated with her mother's pussy juices. So this is what a snatch tastes like, Nancy thought. He put his hands on her head, tried to drag her face down all the way on his cock. Nancy gagged, but she didn't stop sucking, didn't stop swirling her tongue around the shaft of his prick.
She hadn't sucked many cocks. If you did a boy too often, he came to expect it out of you every time. She'd always preferred to be chary with her favors. That little lick and slurp she'd granted Rich Bailey in the woods today. It seemed like a million years ago, but it had only been an hour or so. Rich tasted like a boy. Bone tasted like a man. She hadn't known there was a difference. Not until now. But, God, she understood! Her mouth moved on Bone, and she fought against the grip of his hands. He wanted to strangle her with his peter and she couldn't let him do that. He was already deep in her mouth, deeper than she'd thought anything could ever hope to go, but there he was, the pointed tip resting on the back of her tongue, at the very edge of her throat. She felt funny but she didn't feel it was something she couldn't handle.
"You suck good," Bone said. "Let me stick it down your throat."
Nancy jerked her head back. She sucked a moment at the end of Bone's dong, reluctant to let it go, but her lips unclenched, and she said, "No way, boy, no way at all! You could kill a woman with this thing!"
"But what a sweet way to die," Red said from somewhere off to the side. Nancy looked around Bone's slender body and she gasped.
Deanna was sitting up now, her back against the wall. Her fingers were still puddling in her sticky cunt, and her nipples were brown and stiff, jiggling up and down as Deanna sucked savagely at Red's cock. Bone wasn't the only one priming up to go another round. Nancy had felt the convulsive shudder of Red's prick, exploding in her tight pussy, but she saw that prick, erecting once more in Deanna's mouth. Deanna had a mouthful of prick and she was using one hand to cuddle and squeeze Red's nuts. Her hand was a tight glove around them, and her face was red with the effort of her sucking. Her eyes were closed and if she knew that her daughter was staring at her, she didn't seem to care. All of Mom's existence seemed to be encompassed in the cock that was filling rapidly within her pursed, sucking lips.
Bone reached down, grabbed Nancy under the armpits, lifted her as easily as he'd done earlier, when they were taking down her pants and starting the whole thing. He didn't look strong enough to battle a fly on even terms, but there was a world of hidden power in his lean body. Nancy gasped as she felt her feet rise from the floor. Bone threw her onto the bed. He knelt and spread her legs, and rammed his face into her cunt. He started to eat her, and for the first time she knew what "eating" meant.
Red had licked her, randily, friskily. Bone used his teeth. Nancy moaned as he found her clit and began to nibble it in greedy little bites, but she reached down, fondled his Marine-cut hair, pulled his head into her willing, wet crotch. His tongue shot up her pussy hole, and she sobbed, "Oh, you bastard! You know where it is, don't you?"
"Where what is?" Bone asked, raising his face. His eyes were a mask of innocence, too good to be faked.
"Eat me, goddamn you," Nancy snarled, pushing him down again. His mouth made contact with her twat and she gave a whimpering cry of pleasure. She looked over toward Red and Mom, and now Red was on his knees and Mom was still sucking him, but it was Red's fingers puddling in her pussy, three fingers stabbing up Mom's cunt, stabbing like a cock. Deanna whined around the cock in her mouth and her legs shivered and twitched and Nancy could see the filmy sheen of sweat on her mother's thighs and belly. She's turned on, too, Nancy thought, as turned on as I am, God help the both of us! In that moment Nancy understood that she and her mother, no matter how much they might dislike one another, were still women, that they were still ruled by the same kinds of passions and desires.
"Eat me, you bastard," she told Bone. "Eat me hard, eat me fast, east me like an animal. And then you get on me and ram that dick of yours up my hole till I can taste it on the back of my tongue. Whatever you can dish out, I can take. You think you're a Bone? Well, I'm a pussy, and I can eat you whole!" His head continued to bob up and down in her twat, and his tongue and teeth gnashed on her tight labes, into the vulva exposed by his spreading fingers, across the bulb of her clit. She felt chills running up and down her body and she wrapped her legs around his body. He had almost no hair on his head and her fingers raced across his scalp. "Eat it, eat it, eat it," she panted savagely. "I want to feel your tongue in my belly. Goddamn you, you and your friend made me an animal, and I want to make animal sex! Give it to me or I'll smother you in my twat!"
Deanna heard her daughter's voice, and her eyes flickered round. She saw Nancy sitting on the edge of the bed, being gobbled avidly by a kneeling Bone. We have more in common than I thought, Nancy and I, she told herself. She's a hot young girl just discovering how hot she is. And I'm a hot woman who's finally gotten the chance to do something about it. Funny, she thought, but I still hate the little bitch! She sucked harder at Red's cock, felt it swell to full, majestic erection in her mouth.
Red pulled his dick from her mouth. She surrendered it reluctantly, sucking at the tip until he jerked it free. The taste of him was somehow different this time around, and she realized, after his cock left her mouth, that she was sampling the flavors of Nancy's pussy juice on his rod. He stood beside her, stiff-cocked, watching Bone eat Nancy. His face was flushed and his chest heaved. Deanna reached up to take hold of his cock. She tightened her fist around him, felt the pulsing of his peter. Her pussy began to itch and she thought, I've gotta have it again! God, I've gotta have it again!
"I think," Red announced, "that we have a situation on our hands, Bone. What do you think?"
"Situation?" Bone muttered, lifting his head from Nancy's pussy. She grabbed him by the ears and pulled him down into her snatch again.
"Get on the bed," Red told Deanna. The woman stood up slowly, and her knees were weak and wobbly. She stood a moment, watching her daughter sigh and moan as she was being cunnilingued, and her hand went instinctively to her own cunt. She rubbed the wet sticky lips, massaging Bone's cum back into her flesh. It's not rape anymore, she thought. It isn't rape at all. My cunt itches. My tits are aching. My nipples are stiff. My mouth is full of drool. I'd forgotten it could feel this good. Jesus, I had forgotten!
She moved to the bed, as Red guided her, and she lay back, with her head hanging over the far side. Red moved between her willingly spread legs and touched the mouth of her wet pussy with his hard cock. "Put it in," Red laughed. "Maybe I will, Maybe I won't." He tickled her again and she squirmed. The end of his rod played games with the hole of her cunt. Then he stepped back.
"Bone!" he said. The lanky, hung stud raised his face from Nancy's crotch. "You," Red added, pointing his finger at Nancy. "Get in there and lick her. Yeah! Use your tongue on her cunt! Eat it, girl."
"You're disgusting," Nancy said, sitting up. She looked at her mother, sitting beside her on the bed. Deanna's eyes avoided Nancy's stare.
Red came in closer, grabbed Nancy by the tits. She moaned as he clenched his hands on her small hard boobs. "Ahhhh!" she gasped. "That hurts!"
Red let go, but his hands went to her head and he was forcing her face downward. She was powerless to resist him. "Lick her," Red commanded. "Lick her snatch. It's still full of Bone's cum. Sticky and hot and greasy. Come on, girl! Get in there and eat!"
Nancy's face was pressed against her mother's thigh. She wanted to resist, but the power wasn't in her, wasn't hers. "No," Deanna said in protest, but as Nancy's warm wet face pressed her leg, Deanna lay back. Red pushed the young girl's head, shoved her into her mother's hairy crotch. Nancy made a gasping sound, but her tongue fluttered, and Deanna opened her mouth in a moan. Red pushed again, and Nancy's tongue was swirling through Deanna's dark mat of pubic hah. It touched the protruding cuntal lips, and Nancy felt a thrill of excitement race through her body. God, she thought. I'm licking my mother's beaver! I can even taste the cum on her labes! Deanna lifted her leg, still saying "No," but her body was saying "YES!" and she did a half turn and her snatch came up to meet Nancy's mouth.
Nancy struggled to get free, but Red's hand was firm and strong on the back of her head and her mouth was full of her mother's matted, sopping-wet pussy hair. The aroma of cum, male and female, overwhelmed Nancy for a moment.
She put her hand on Deanna's thigh. Her tongue swirled through Deanna's large cuntal valley, frisking over the puffy, protruding labes. Nancy wasn't sure whether she enjoyed it or not.
Deanna gasped and her eyes turned over in their sockets. She lifted her leg higher still, slid it around Nancy's neck. Her pussy opened to the tongue that was upon it, and she felt her daughter start to slip inside. "My God," she said, "what are you doing to us?"
"Getting you better acquainted," Red said. "From the look of things, we seem to have a failure to communicate going on around here. What better way to communicate? That's it, pretty little blond-headed piece of jailbait. Slurp her. Don't it taste good? Can you taste Bone's cum in your mama's twat? Eat it out of her. Suck it up. Yeah. You ever do this before, or do you have a virgin mouth too?"
"You oughta know my mouth isn't exactly virgin," Nancy said, wriggling free long enough to speak.
"Not much about you is," Red replied. He let up his pressure on Nancy's skull but the girl didn't raise her head. "Well?" he said to Deanna. "How do you like it? Does your daughter give good head?"
"Damn you," Deanna whispered, slipping her leg tighter around Nancy's neck. She reached down, began to weave her fingers through Nancy's straight, silky blonde hair. Again and again the tongue slipped into Deanna's hole, and each time it was like a hot wire scraping flesh. Deanna moaned and lay back, her pussy arched up to meet Nancy's mouth.
Red took Deanna's hand. "Here. Feel her tits. They're worth a feel. Tight and solid. And those nipples. Squeeze them. Like fat pink pimples, the kind that squirt out a lot of that white shit, you know? See, she likes it when you tickle her titties. Feel her squirm? Is she making her tongue go faster in you, Deanna?" The older woman could only moan and nod. Her snatch was glued against Nancy's face and she had a tight cupping grip on her daughter's nearest boob.
"Well," Red said, "it looks like time for me to get in on some of this." He crawled up the bed, moved astride Deanna. "You remember this position, don't you, lady?" he asked, running his fist up and down his stiff cock. "Make me a glove first," he said. "I want to feel those boobs of yours squeezing around my dick. I want to fuck you between the tits and feel the tip of me going just so far into your mouth while your tongue licks me welcome home. Think you can handle it?" Deanna paled, but she nodded. Red scooped up her tits, slid lower onto her body, and he warmed his prick between her spongy mounds. He began to thrust, and, as he'd instructed, only the very tip of his pecker entered Deanna's mouth. She leaned her face forward, and her tongue awaited his thrusts. Her lips kissed him, then parted and made room for the end of his dong, and she sucked his knob, sucked it with an intensity that left her shivering internally.
Nancy's tongue had found her mother's clit, and she was licking it with a bitchy hesitance, on, then off, then on again and off just as quickly, as if she weren't sure she should be doing it at all. Even Deanna's clit seemed to be coated in the musky, swampy fragrance of sexual heat. Nancy pressed it with her lips, opened them, and she sucked hard, so hard that Deanna gave a shivering cry around the knob of Red's dick.
Why am I doing this? Nancy asked herself, still licking. She tried to connect the mother she hated with the pussy she was eating, but the linkage wouldn't hook up. I'm not eating my mother, she told herself then. I'm eating a pussy. And I'm being forced. I can always remember that I was forced. Besides, she thought with a wicked twinkle, it didn't look as if Mom would be raising such a stink about the vibrator and the polaroids or anything else, from now on. I'm as deep in it as she is, Nancy thought, but I'm just a kid, I don't know what I'm doing, I've been raped. It thrilled the blonde girl to think of the psychological hold this experience would give her on Mom for all time to come. I can get away with murder now, she reflected. I could sit Rich Bailey on the sofa and ride his cock till my guts were full of his jizz, and Mom could be sitting in her chair all the while and there wouldn't be a goddamned thing she could say about it. She'd be afraid I might tell Daddy about her.
Daddy! Sweet fucking Jesus! What time was it? Daddy would be home from work by six-thirty or so. Let's see-she'd come in a little past four ... how much time elapsed since then? She couldn't remember! Her eyes drifted, but the digital clock that always sat on the table by the bed wasn't there. Neither was the table. Vaguely, she remembered seeing Mom knock the table over when that horse-cocked dude Bone was screwing her down on the floor. God, she thought, we can't be doing this when Daddy comes home! It will spoil everything! I have to tell them. "Hey," she said, raising her face from Deanna's pussy, but just as she did, something hard and warm touched her buttocks, and she knew that Bone wanted back into the game.
"No," she said, "we don't have time," but even while she was trying to say it, Bone was pulling her legs apart, straightening them out, moving his body between her smooth young thighs. One of her legs hung over the edge of the bed. Bone entered her at an angle, his cock stiff and straight, and he pushed himself all the way up Nancy's cuntal tube in one stroke. She was wet and greasy in there, and she offered him no resistance at all. The end of him tapped three times on her womb's mouth and she almost passed out. Red's cock was a lot thicker than Bone's but nowhere near as long. Where Red had crammed her pussy full of cock, Bone concentrated on depth, and God, could he go deeply! Nancy grabbed her mother's thighs and held on for dear life and the lanky biker began to fuck in and out of her, fuck as if his life depended on it.
"No," she said a couple more times, "we have to stop, we really do," but her mouth was lying against Deanna's swampy twat and the words came out indistinct and muffled. She looked up, saw that Red was sitting astride her mother's belly, feeding his cock into Deanna's mouth. His buttocks flexed with every thrust. Nancy reached up with one hand, smoothed her fingers across his hard flat ass. The power in him, she thought, the male power. He'd been her first man.
Bone fucked hard, and Bone fucked deep, but it wasn't the same. His cock was long, but slender even in Nancy's snug pussy. She wanted to feel it again, that excitement of being crammed full of hard, ravenous cock, and though Bone could make her head swim and her pussy cream when he stabbed eight of his inches up her tube, he couldn't give her the kind of fucking she knew she would always need, always demand. The girls at school were always wondering who had the longest pecker, but even on her second man, Nancy knew that length was nothing compared to thickness.
And Bone, at least, did have those two qualities, in abundance. His tool was rigid. Fucking yourself with a broom handle must feel exactly like this, she thought, and if you force yourself to take five or six extra strokes when you know you can't stand another, the comparison would be perfect. Weird shit to be thinking of, she told herself, writhing and wiggling as Bone kept feeding her his long stiff cock. Her mouth dipped down into Deanna's cunt again. Her mother's pussy was still half full of Bone's jizz, the same stuff, Nancy reminded herself, that would soon be blasting up her own twat. She sampled it, found it slightly acid but not un-likeable. Not at all unlikable. She opened her mother's snatch with her fingers and let her tongue do the walking up and down the vulva, in and out of the red-rimmed, well-fucked hole. And speaking of well-fucked holes, hers was getting one hell of a workout. Bone squeezed her legs together, making her supertight around his dong, and she could really feel the difference. He might be a moron, but he knew how to throw a fuck up a willing cunt.
Willing cunt! Had she actually thought that? Well, wasn't she? Her pussy squished every time he pumped the meat into her. She was sopping wet, and if it had hurt the first time, when she lost her cherry in one quick stab of Red's fat dick, well, it didn't hurt now. Quite the opposite. Her snatch seemed to be slobbering around Bone's dick, the way her mouth was slobbering all over the pussy-she refused to think of it as her mother's pussy-at which she feasted now. He worked her legs up and down, scissoring them, and she moaned in delight. "That's the way!" she gasped. Somebody was becoming an expert at fucking, and with a very little practice, she thought.
Red leaned forward, easing his cock into Deanna's willing, wet mouth. He squeezed her tits down with his fingers but he wasn't using them as cuahions for his cock any longer. He was fucking her mouth with his hard, red cock, and she was sucking him as if she meant it. As if! Christ, she thought, I want to do it! Her tongue pulled at him and she hated it when he slid back, even though she knew he was going to enter her again, just as big, just as hard, just as tasty. "Pushing the nineties," she heard him say, and for a moment her tongue whirled around him and she wondered what he was talking about. She blushed for shame when she remembered. He was referring to his continuing evaluation of her blowjob ability. Last time she'd been in the low eighties.
"Aaaahhhhhh! Ohhhgodddddd!!!" she moaned as his dick slipped out of her mouth and his head snapped around sharply. She grabbed at him, but he slid off her, off the bed, moving toward the door faster than a man of his bulk seemed capable of moving.
"Oh, Christ, holy fucking Christ!" Nancy gasped, her mouth working sporadically in Deanna's pussy. She was too far gone on the cock in her cunt to be coordinated now. She had her chin resting just above Deanna's beaver and her ass was moving up and down as Bone kept fucking in and out, his strokes picking up speed, sure sign that the fever was on him, too. It's on all of us, she thought, and then it sounded as if someone was calling her name. She looked up. Her mother's mouth was open but it hadn't been Mom's voice. It sounded more like...."Are you in here?" a voice shouted on the other side of the bedroom door and Nancy went icy from head to toe. "Oh, Jesus," she moaned, "like, wow, noooo ..," and she was trying to get clear, clear of her mother, clear of Bone's steadily thrusting cock, clear of the bed itself, but there was no time. The bedroom door opened and she was staring at her father and his enormous, stricken eyes. She said "Daddy" in a weak, almost inaudible voice, and then Red came in from beside the door and he rabbit-punched Daddy. Vic Wetzel went to the floor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
At first Nancy thought he was dead, but she could see his chest moving. Red squatted beside Vic, rolled him over. "So this is the man of the house, huh?" he asked. " A big fucker. Or is he a big fucker, lady? You're the one who ought to know. My guess is that you haven't been getting your fair share. You sure don't fuck like a woman who's getting it on a nice regular basis. Come here, Bone, stop fucking that little bitch. I need some help with this guy. Musta found his Achilles heel when I hit him. I think the bastard is all muscle. Got it! By God, I got it! Pull that chair over here, Bone. Now help me sit him on it. Wait. I got a better idea. Lady, get your ass over here. Bone will support your old man. I want you to take his clothes off. Right down to the fuckin' skivvies, got me? Get him peter-naked. Then sit him on the chair, Bone. Where do you keep the rope around here, Deanna?"
"Rope!" Nancy squealed, huddling into a tight ball on the bed. She was trying to cover her nakedness, now that it was too late.
"Just some fun," Red assured her. "I saw this in a cycle movie once. Some bikers getting revenge on a sheriff who's fucked them over, the way sheriffs like to do to bikers. Always thought it would be a good idea. Where did you say the rope was, Deanna?"
Nancy watched in horror, not believing any of what she witnessed. The hardest to comprehend was that her mother seemed to be participating in it all, willingly. While Bone held the unconscious Vic upright, Deanna systemically removed his clothing, piece by piece, until he stood there, big and muscular and totally naked, even his shoes and socks gone. Nancy stared for a moment at her father's soft cock, hanging down between his legs. God, she thought, he is hung beautifully! Even if he is my daddy! Bigger than Red, longer, and with the promise of being thicker when he was hard, too. She felt a dryness in her mouth. She couldn't take her eyes away, either. Even when Bone had eased Vic onto the chair, that cock was still so big and obvious and so watchable! Nancy looked at it, and she remembered the way her father had looked at her from time to time, and she thought, turnabout's fair play, isn't it? For the first time she was seeing Vic as a man, not as Daddy. She was a woman now, and not Daddy's little girl. The knowledge thrilled her and frightened her.
Red came in with a long roll of clothesline. "Voila!" he said. "C'mon, Bone, let's get him strapped down. Man gets him a nice front-row seat like this, he shouldn't have to miss anything. Work him in tight, now, Bone, just like you did the girl in that movie, remember, where you tied her up and fucked her in the ass. Only tighter, 'cause this is for real. Slip a loop around his dick. That's a hell of a dick, too," he added. "Can't he satisfy you with it, Deanna?"
"He hasn't been trying," Deanna said softly. She couldn't bear to watch them tie Vic up. She looked at Nancy, on the bed, and her daughter's eyes seemed to be glued on the very sight the mother could not stand to see. Nancy was breathing hard, her face reddening under its tan, and she kept playing with her long hair, draping it down her body, tossing it back, over and over, combing with her fingers to take out imaginary tangles.
What is gonna happen now? Deanna asked herself. She stole a peek, saw the loop of rope that had been slipped snugly around Vic's limp cock. Red pulled on the rope and tightened it more. Vic stirred on the chair, mumbling a little. Red tested the knots, found them secure, then he leaned over, patted Vic on the cheek. Vic's eyes flickered, then came open. "Good," Red announced. "I'm glad you could be with us for the show. I think you already know the star performers," and he did a mocking bow and a sweep of the hand indicating Nancy on the bed and Deanna, who stood, not cowering, but naked and straight, in the center of the room.
"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" Vic shouted, struggling as his consciousness returned. The strain caused the rope around his cock to get tighter and he made a pained face, sank back onto the chair. He looked down, saw that he was naked, totally naked, and he blushed.
"Deanna," he said, "if this is some of your shit-"
She started to say something but Red snapped his fingers, wiggled one of them in a motion that meant "Come here." Deanna sighed, walked toward the man. Red pointed down at his cock. "Suck it," he said. "On your knees and suck it."
She looked at Vic. He appeared to be in shock. But did he care? Why should he care? she asked herself. It wasn't anything he was interested in using. How many times had he proven that over the last few years? "Okay," she said, and she dropped to her knees. She took Red's stiff dick in her hands, flexed and fingered him until he was fully erect, and then she bent him toward her mouth. Her lips parted and she took him inside. Her lips closed, her head began to move up and down the stiff length of Red's erection. From time to time she glanced over at Vic. His face was white and his fists were clenched, but the ropes held him tightly. He couldn't move from his perch on the chair. You could have been having this, she thought angrily, and she made a gasping sound around Red's dong. It slid deeply into her mouth and her tongue and saliva made him wet and welcome.
"Deanna, you cunt," Vic said savagely, "what are you doing in my house? What's going on? What kind of shit are you pulling?" He struggled again. "Goddamn it, as soon as I get out of this fucking-ouch!" he must have snugged the rope around his dick again. His eyes closed.
"Silence him, Bone," Red said. "I'm engaged right now. Those." He pointed to the peppermint-striped panties he'd stripped from Nancy's perky ass. They were on the floor by the bed. "Stuff those in his mouth. If there's one thing I won't put up with, it's a heckler."
Bone made a giggling sound as he picked up the little frilly panties and did with them as Red had ordered. Vic's mouth was forced open by Bone's iron fingers and the panties were pushed inside. Vic made a gagging sound and then his face got really red. "Tastes good, mmm?" Red asked, still pushing his prick into Deanna's mouth. She was using her hands on his thighs and balls, fingering him while she suckled. "You ought to taste the real thing," he added, pointing at Nancy, who was still cowering on the bed, naked but hiding her nipples and beaver. But there was no way to mask the allure of the tanned curves of her young body. Her legs were gorgeous even if they were pulled up, and the sweet contour of her ass showed vividly where she was turned half around.
Red grinned. "Go on over and pick up where you left off with Nancy," he told Bone. The big skinny man grinned broadly and marched toward the bed, his stiff pecker out like a lance before him. The girl wailed and tried to hide back across the bed, but Bone caught her by the wrist and he straightened out her naked young figure on the bed, smoothing her like a shirt on an ironing board. His hands slid down her front, from neck to knees, and he toyed almost gently with her cupcake tits, teasing them, causing the fat nipples to stand up;
"Please," Nancy said, "not like this, not in front of-in front of-"
"Just pretend he's not there," Red suggested as Bone moved onto the bed. "Pretend it's like it was a little while ago, when you were eating on Deanna and Bone was shoving it up you from behind and all you could say was 'sweet jesus, fuck me, sweet Jesus, make my pussy cream!' Try that. Go ahead, Bone. Spread those legs. Unless you'd rather she sucked on you first."
"Suck," Bone agreed, nodding vigorously. He straddled the prone girl and pushed his long stiff rod down toward her glossy red lips. She shook her head, but he moved the end of his dick back and forth, all over her face, especially paying attention to the sensitive regions at the very edges of her lips. Nancy shivered and mumbled her final protest, and while her lips were parted, Bone shoved his cock into her mouth. She whined around him, but her lips grew tight and her cheeks sucked in. She realized that if she closed her eyes and muffled her ears, she really could pretend that Daddy wasn't sitting over there in the chair, tied up, forced to watch while she was forced to suck this cock, and honestly, there was nothing any of them could do but try to come through it with a whole skin, was there? And if that meant giving some more head....
"Enough," Red told Deanna. Obediently, she released his cock. 'This lady," he said to Vic, "tells me that you have shamefully neglected her pussy and its desires. Do you have anything to say for yourself? Well, in case you've forgotten, let me remind you what a cunt is for and how it should be treated. Stand up, baby. I'm gonna fuck you. And when I fuck you, you're gonna know what fucking is really all about. I don't know what kind of horseshit screwing you've been getting, but you're due for a piece of real, ready meat. There's room on the edge of the bed. Sit down and lift your legs. Lean back, now. I'm coming in. Feel me knocking on your door? Christ, the gate is wide open! Pussy's all wet and juicy. Easiest thing in the world to ram my dick right up you. Like that, Deanna? Do you like what I'm doing? Tell me now, because here I go, right up your twat!"
Deanna's legs kicked high in the air. Red caught one of them, braced it against his shoulder. The other leg slid around his thighs and his cock moved up her cuntal tube with a relentless impatience. And she was open and hot and ready. Oh, God, was she! "Yes," she panted, "yes, I like it! I love it! Don't stop! Fuck me! See, Vic? Do you see it? I'm a woman. I need to be fucked. And now Nancy's a woman too, and she's gonna need to be fucked, just like I do. Are you getting your eyes full? Deeper, goddamn you!" she rasped at Red. "I want everything you've got! So don't fuck around-FUCK!!!!"
A surge of satisfaction raced through Deanna Wetzel. She saw her husband's eyes disintegrate at the words she was speaking. He'd never heard her say "fuck" before, she'd never dared to speak the word around him, hardly dared to say it when she was all alone in the house and in the grip of savage frustration. But she was saying it now-even more, she was getting it now! She was being fucked, and she was panting and moaning and working her legs like a beast, and she felt like a beast, but she was a happy beast. Her husband? She didn't care that he was watching. She did care. It delighted her. "Watch him screw me," she panted. "Watch him fuck me with his hard, sweet cock! I'm going to come, Vic! I'm going to come like a river! I didn't think I'd ever be able to come again, unless it was on my fingers, but this is no finger inside me, it's a dick, it's a big, hard dick, and it's fucking me, fucking me, fucking meeeeee...." Her voice trailed off as the first orgasm swept through her pussy and she gasped and humped madly to meet Red's stabbing dick.
The bed was moving, really moving, but not only because of the gyrations of Deanna's orgasm. She heard Red speaking, giving commands to Bone, but she couldn't tell what he was saying, for her ears were full of roaring arid her heart was hammering and surges of joy shot through her again and again, and she was approaching her second come, approaching it with eager frenzied glee.
On his chair, straining in his ropes, Vic Wetzel was filled with a rage that would have burnt a weaker man to a cinder, right on the spot. He would kill them! For what they'd done to his Nancy, he'd kill them! Deanna too! Something told him she was a part of this, the cunt! The Bitch, the slut! He'd kill them all! But every time he moved on the chair, that piece of cord tied round his cock bit into his flesh and he couldn't help grimacing. If he weren't a man, he'd have screamed. If he weren't a man, he might be crying right now, watching that animal, that fucking goddamned ANIMAL shove his cock into Nancy's helpless mouth. The rope on his cock grew tighter. He winced, bit down on the panties they'd stuffed into his mouth. The panties. God! The taste of them! Something he couldn't describe, couldn't explain, but it made his tongue tingle. They were Nancy's underpants! Of course! And he was tasting the secret, most hidden fragrances of his daughter's body, the body he had watched develop into a thing of beauty, the body that filled his thoughts when it shouldn't, the body that was being violated before his very eyes right now!
He looked down, and he saw, to his horror, that his cock was swollen. The tightness of the rope? No! He could feel the pulsations running into his shaft now, the rapid, throbbing pump of blood. "Grrr," he moaned, biting into the wadded panties. The harder his cock got, the more the ropes cut him, the more it hurt. As if it wasn't painful enough watching Deanna, so jubilantly unfaithful to him with-who the hell were these guys, anyway? The denim jackets, sleeveless, that were the only things they wore on their bodies-like bikers, maybe. And he remembered something Jimmy at the bar had mentioned, something about bikers.
The red-haired guy was obviously the ringleader of whatever was going on. When he spoke, they all jumped, even Nancy, and the poor kid was so scared it made him want to shit. Red said something, Vic didn't catch what it was, but Nancy's attacker got off the supine little girl and Nancy sat up, playing tensely with her hair. Her young eyes were averted, as if she couldn't bear to look at her father and know that he was forced to witness her degradation.
I don't want to, Nancy thought. I mean, I shouldn't want to. She was licking the drool from her lips where it had frothed out while she ate Bone's dick. When the air got clear around this place, she told herself, the shit was going to hit the fan. And plenty of it would be flying in her direction.
"Get to it," Red commanded. Bone moved to the edge of the bed and he sat there, grinning like a possum at the trussed-up Vic, his pecker sticking up. And Christ, what a pecker! Vic thought. You could win bets with a cock like that! It was over a foot long! A dick like that would like as not kill a woman! Had Deanna taken it? Jesus-had Nancy?
"On him," Red said. "Face to the front. Smile at Daddy. Or you could-no, you WILL-pick up those pictures first, the ones of you, there on the floor. Right. Take them over. Not too close. Show him the one where you've got your pussy open so deep I can see your tonsils. Or the one where you have your finger in your crack. That's a really nice shot. I'm taking it with me when I go, something to remember you by, Nancy."
Vic looked at the pictures, but Nancy was standing back, so far back they were a blur. Or was it only his eyes that were blurred? He blinked, his vision cleared, and he saw the polaroids a little more sharply. God! His blood boiled. Had these bastards done that, too? Forced his ghl to pose for dirty pictures? He groaned as she held up a couple of shots in which her pussy appeared in vivid pink closeup, the labes widely separated by her slender young fingers. He shook his head. He didn't want to see any more.
"Daddy, they're forcing me," Nancy whispered. "They're making me do all of this! Them and Mom! They ganged up on me, they raped me, they made me suck them and do all kinds of stuff, they fucked me, Daddy, and I fought them-" She stopped short. Her father's face visibly recoiled when the word "fucked" slid so easily from her lips. She turned away, and Bone grabbed her wrist. She dropped the polaroids to the floor and went staggering back to the bed, to where Bone sat waiting with his broomstick cock on erect display.
"Miss Nancy," Red announced grandly while pouring his cock into Deanna, who was totally out of it, gasping through her third or fourth climax. "Miss Nancy will now perform the death-defying fuck on Bone's cock. Get with it, brother and sister, the man is waiting to see the show. And Christ, would you look at the way his dick is hardening up! I think the man likes what he's seeing. Congratulations on your taste, sir. We're doing our best to entertain you and enlighten you and your happiness is our pleasure."
He tried not to look, but he couldn't take his eyes off Nancy for long. She was naked. She was beautiful. He hadn't seen her naked since she was little more than a baby, and in the last few years he'd had those tantalizing, tempting glimpses of her charms, the ones he had to steal peeks at, the ones that made him feel so guilty for looking. And now here she was, stark naked, her body smooth and brown except at the ends of her tits and a small white band around her hips and crotch, and her nipples were enormous, pink, like big fat, sweet gumdrops, and the patch of dark hair in her crotch, so dark against the white skin and so dark in comparison to the blonde hah cascading down from her head. And every time he looked at her, his cock seemed to get a little harder and the rope dug into his stiff, aching flesh with that much more insistence.
"Fuck," Bone said, pulling Nancy's wrist. She looked over her shoulder at her father and he couldn't interpret what was in her eyes. Bone put his legs together, worked Nancy until she was standing astride his lap. With one hand he gripped her wrist firmly, with the other he straightened up his dong, aimed it up at the little patch of dark hair. She leaned back as the end of his cock touched her there, and Vic could see the gleam of pink among the dark curls, the pink that had to be her sweet, delicious young pussy. He'd created her, accidentally, but created her all the same, and now he had to watch as the only thing he loved or cared about in the whole world was subjected to ... His mind recoiled from the thought. He closed his eyes.
Then he heard Nancy cry out and his eyes snapped open and he could see it, crystal clear, no blur on his vision now, the whole thing happening right there in front of him. Nancy was sliding down onto the mule-cock of that skinny biker, the long cock going into Nancy's cunt hole. Her face was taut and she wasn't looking directly at him, but he could look at nothing else.
Deanna? She was still moaning and jerking all over the bed but Deanna could go to hell. The bitch! Nancy had told him Deanna was mixed up in all this, but he'd known, known almost from the beginning. He'd kill Deanna too. No jury in the world would convict him.
Nancy moaned, and she slid a little further down the long pole, and then her mouth gaped open and Vic knew that the long slender cock had hit bottom in Nancy's pussy, that there was simply no more room for prick to enter his daughter's hole. Better than half the outsized stick was in her, he estimated, eight inches give or take. She was starting to shake from side to side, rocking as Bone held her by the waist and gave her little wiggling, jiggling insertions of his cock, and he looked up at her face, and drool was forming on her lips. Little bubbles of spit leaking from Nancy's mouth. "Oh, Christ," she said in a breathless whisper, "that's all I can take, Bone, no more, please, oh, please...."
"Aaaahhhhhh!!!" Vic moaned, and he thought he was dying. His cock was rigid now, stiffened, in the biting grip of the rope, and it felt as if the tip was already dying from lack of blood. He shivered and trembled in his chair, held fast by the ropes, and Bone was moving up and down in Nancy, and the girl had her eyes shut. The skinny man's hands were on her tits, caressing the little apples and their fat juicy nips, and even as Vic watched, Nancy lifted one hand tentatively, put it on top of Bone's. He thought she was going to knock the hand away, but-no, no, NOOOOOO! She was clasping his hand, forcing it down upon her breast, helping him cup her titty! And her other hand was sliding down her belly, into the patch of hair. She touched herself on the pink gash, just above the spot where he entered her, and Vic knew that she was starting to rub her clit. Nancy made a chirpy little sound and her body quivered up and down, a counterpoint to Bone's fuck-rhythm.
Her eyes opened. She said, "They're making me do it, Daddy," and her lips trembled. "I don't want tooooo ... ohhhhhhhhhhh ... don't want to do it ... really don't want to...." and her finger was rubbing a brisk, horny circle round and round her clit and she swayed from side to side while Bone squeezed her tits and she helped him, and together they fed half his long cock in and out of Nancy's hole.
Deanna lay back, satiated. Her head was still spinning and her pussy felt raw and ravaged, but, Jesus, so satisfied! She reached down and rubbed herself. Red had shot off in her finally, and his clotted cum was all over her cunt. Slowly she sat up as the red-haired man withdrew and stood beside her, his cock dripping a few last dribbles of jizz onto the floor.
She stared a moment at Nancy, who was riding Bone's cock, and then she turned, looked at Vic. She had intended to give him her glare of triumph, but it faded as soon as she saw the expression on her husband's face. Her gaze dropped and she saw his cock, blood red where the rope was taut around his erection. He was struggling in his ropes, but his eyes were fixed on Nancy. Weird sounds escaped around the gag in his mouth, and, watching him, she knew that all her suspicions had been true. Nancy. The way he felt about her. I might as well be a piece of shit, to be flushed down the John, Deanna thought. I mean nothing at all to him.
Nothing. She looked up at Red. "I think this has gone far enough," she said. "Untie him. Now."
Red grinned. "My own sentiments, lady," and he made a courtly bow to Deanna. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small jacknife. "Free at last, free at last!" he said, and he placed the blade against the rope. "Bone!" he said, "Unfuck! Right now!"
Bone made a growling sound of protest, but he pushed Nancy up, off his stiff dick. She stood a moment, trying not to look at her father but unable to see anything except the rigidity of his pecker, and then she sat down on the bed, pulling her hah around to cover her tits. She crossed her legs and put her hands in her lap.
Red jerked his wrist and the knife blade sawed through the rope. Vic had been secured with a single piece of cording. When it was cut, all the tension on Vic's body gave way at once and the rope went slack. White-faced, shaking, Vic stood up, his fists clenched. He spat out the panties that had been stuffed into his mouth, and he looked at Red, then at Deanna, then at Bone, and lastly at Nancy where she sat on the bed, hiding behind her hair. "Goddamn it!" he said. "Oh, Goddamn it to hell!" and he took a step forward.
CHAPTER NINE
Deanna got off the bed. "Vic," she said, "listen to me," but he walked past her as if she did not exist. Deanna looked at Red, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Just like that movie I was telling you about," he said, pointing to the bed with his thumb.
Vic stood a moment, looking down at cowering Nancy. "Get out of here," he told Bone, who slid off the bed and stood, silently watching. Vic looked down at his daughter. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders. Her face lifted. Her cheeks were red and her eyes glazed. She raised one hand, put it on the stiffened, red shaft of her father's cock. "Oh, Christ," Vic moaned, and he pushed Nancy backward, onto the bed. She spread her legs as he mounted her, and both of them were reaching down, into her crotch, fighting for the right to take hold of his pecker and steer it into her wet, open pussy.
Vic's ass lifted, and there was a flurry of motion, and then he tensed and shoved, and Nancy screamed. Her legs shot up into the air and the toes were wiggling with excitement. "Daddy!!!" she screamed. "Fuck meeeeee!!!!"
Her cunt was tighter than the rope, Vic thought, but her cunt was also wet, and sticky, and he could feel her nerve ends tingling as he drove deeply into his daughter's twat. Maybe he didn't have the length of that guy Bone, but he had a pecker that was man-sized, and it was thick enough to split a brick and big enough to fill a pussy, and he drove home, all the way up his throbbing, screaming daughter, stabbing until he felt his dick bounce off the rear wall of her cuntal sheath. Her hands were around his neck and she was kissing him all over the face, her tongue was wet and slippery on him, her breath sweet, and it was everything he'd allowed himself to imagine in those wicked fantasies and dreams, only it was better, oh, Jesus, it was better! Her legs folded around his legs and her undulating cunt sucked him up her hole, into her body. He was her father and she was his daughter, but he couldn't stop what he was doing, couldn't pull his cock out of her now, not if his life counted in the balance, and he knew that she wouldn't let him.
"You're fucking me, Daddy," she whispered, giggling. "You're really fucking me. You fuck like a man. I like that. Fuck me some more. Show them how a real man fucks a woman. I'm a woman now, Daddy. I'm all woman. I used to be a little girl but I'm not a little girl now. My pussy wants you. Shove hard! Rub against me! Make my clitty tingle! Oh, God, Daddy, I didn't let any of those boys at school screw me, I was saving it for something special, something really special, and this is as special as it can get, isn't it, Daddy? Isn't this as special a fuck as two people could ever have?"
"Shut up and wiggle your ass!" Vic gasped, plunging so deep, so hard, so fast, her mouth opened in a cry she felt so strongly it was impossible for Nancy to make single sound. Her legs slid up and down Vic's thighs and she pulled him into her, again and again, begging him with her body to give her that special fucking one more time, one more time.
"Just like that movie," Red commented. "Well, Bone, I think we'd better get our asses on the road. Now that we've helped these nice people with their problems. Be a good girl, Deanna. And, well, I just think you ought to know, you're a hell of a lot better fuck than the kid. I mean, sure, she's young and smooth and tight, but, well, it's sorta like wine. Some of it you can just drink right out of the vat, you know? And it tastes okay. But the good stuff has to mellow first. Get really ripe and fruity. And you're the good stuff. In twenty years Nancy might come up to your level, where you're at now, but it's a toss up. She's a selfish, snotty little bitch, and that kind rarely turn out good. You're a nice lady, I've enjoyed your hospitality, and I've enjoyed your pussy. Tell the lady goodbye, Bone."
"Goodbye, Lady," Bone said gravely. The two of them went out.
Deanna stood naked in the center of the room, watching Vic and Nancy going at it. The girl was moaning like a bitch in heat now, and Vic's ass shook majestically as he fed her his cock. As they screwed, theh positions shifted. Vic eased onto his side, then over, onto his back, and Nancy was riding him, her long hair swinging wildly, her head thrown back. She was gasping, and it looked as if big massive gulps went down her long throat. Vic raised his hands, grabbed her little apple tits, held them in a possessive grip. Nancy leaned forward, kissed the backs of his fingers, covered his hands with her own, made them fast upon her flesh. And she humped, up and down in a swirl of motion, her pussy eating her father's cock again and again, and each time their bodies ground together, she moaned, "Oh, Christ, Daddy, you're the fucking best of them all! The fucking best! Do it, do it, don't stop, Daddy, don't stop...."
"I'll never stop," Vic promised, and his voice was thick and strained.
"Uh, Deanna," came a voice from behind her. She turned. Red was standing in the bedroom doorway. He had his jeans on now, but Bone was beside him, still bare from the waist down, his bone jutting out as stiff as it had been when he, not Vic, was the one fucking Nancy.
"It's Bone," Red added. "In the emotion of the moment, we kinda forgot that he was still unsatisfied, you know? So would you mind?"
She went to Bone, and she stood on tiptoes so she could kiss him on his lips. His breath was not sweet, but his lips were warm. Her hand closed around his cock and she worked her fist up and down him in quick jerking motions that coincided almost perfectly with the squeaking of the bed where Vic was fucking Nancy.
"I'm gonna come," Bone announced gravely. Deanna dropped to her knees before him and she put the end of his cock in her mouth just as his semen began to squirt. Despite his workout, he presented her with a good load, and she found that whatever inhibitions she used to have about drinking cum seemed to have vanished sometime during today's frantic activity. So much had changed, Deanna thought, sucking down Bone's jizz, working on his cock until it went soft in her mouth. She swallowed the last of his seed, licked him clean, and patted his cock, smiling up at him. "Thank you," he said.
"That's my boy," Red smiled patting Bone's shoulder. "Always thank a lady who gives you a nice blowjob and swallows your cum. Good manners pay off every time, Bone. Never forget that."
"I won't," Bone said.
"Well," Red went on, "I guess we won't be seeing you. Have a good life, Deanna. And get yourself some stranger every once in a while. It keeps a smile on your lips and the gray out of your hah, you know?"
Vic and Nancy were still engrossed in their fucking. The bed shook and jiggled under them, and they'd switched positions again. Now they were lying face to face, on their sides, Vic's dong ramming in and out of Nancy's pussy, each of them trading tongues back and forth. A father and daughter shouldn't be kissing that way, she thought in disgust. Let alone the rest of it. It's almost like they're lovers. She watched the smooth action of Nancy's body, bare and tanned and young, and she looked away.
* * *
Bone and Red were pouring the siphoned gasoline into their bikes, in the woods at the top of the ridge, when Deanna found them. She followed the glare of the flashlight she'd seen in the distance and called, "Hey!"
"Meeting again, so soon?" Red asked, capping his tank. He shone the light in Deanna's direction, and she came into his view. She was wearing a CPO shirt-jacket, sweater, comfortable jeans and shoes. There was a blue knit toboggan cap on her head. It was pushing summer but the nights were chilly.
"There's no place for me back there," she told Red. "Vic doesn't want me. I don't think he ever did want me, except as a piece of ass when he was twenty-one and I was seventeen. He had what he wants now. He has Nancy. They're still down there, fucking, and she just keeps moaning, and I think maybe she has what she wants, too. You know who doesn't have anything? Me. I didn't have a girlhood. I went from algebra to the maternity ward, and I've spent sixteen years of my life being a wife to a man who didn't want me and mother to a girl who didn't want me either. I used to think I loved Vic, but I don't. I don't think I ever did. And I can't stand Nancy. She's a snotty, selfish bitch. And if Vic wants that, he can have it."
"What do you want?" Red asked, tilting his head to one side.
"Everything," Deanna replied. "I want everything. I want to go places and do things. Even things like we did today. Do you fugitives have any goals?"
"Yeah. Staying out of jail. And maybe going to Florida. The rest of the Pharaohs are meeting there, and we're gonna tool back to the west coast with maybe a stopover in Mexico for some of that good shit."
"Do you have room for a rider?" Deanna asked. "If I'm going to find myself a new life, I might as well start now. What does that make me, a cycle slut? Is that what you call them?"
Red laughed. "Do we have room for a cycle slut, Bone?"
"What's a cycle slut?" Bone asked, frowning.
"Let's find out," Red replied. "Climb on, Deanna. Everybody's going on the road, and housewives are welcome to join the crowd."
A wave of nervous energy engulfed her. A thrilling sensation of passion and excitement crept up her legs and pulsed through her loins.
She was embarking upon a fantastic new adventure, beginning a startling new chapter in her life. No longer would she be forced to endure the boring life of a middle-class housewife. No longer would she spend dreary days finger-fucking herself and staring at the television set, watching never-ending petty, putrefying, pusillanimous little dramas being played out before her in full color. No more ogling the boob tube to catch the next stultifying episode of GENERAL HOSPITAL or THE EDGE OF NIGHT or AS THE WORLD TURNS .
Her new life as a motorcycle mama would be exciting. Her mind conjured up images of THE WILD ONE, starring Marlon Brando, her favorite actor. Neither Red nor Bone looked much like Marlon Brando, but they would do. They would do just fine.
She would be riding with two members of a wild and crazy motorcycle gang called the Pharaohs. She would live the life of a biker woman, a cycle slut. And she would get plenty of sex action. Red and Bone would always keep her pussy satisfied.
She mounted the big Harley behind Red and sat, chewing her lip as she waited for him to kick on the starter. The engine fired and caught and the cycle roared into life. Bone's bike echoed the racing sound, and Deanna's heart was racing, too. She'd given most of her life to a husband and a daughter who could not have cared less. Now it was her turn. Her turn to fuck and suck and be happy.
