FATHERS. Do you have a nubile daughter? Wish to meet others like you for purposes of exchange? Write P O.B. 53456, San Francisco, 92344. Photo a must. Sincere only.
The ad was at first glance hardly noticeable, tucked away at the bottom of the Personals in the classified section of the Bay Barbarian, an underground weekly which Baxter J. Ross, senior partner in the law firm of Ross, Murphy & Associates, would have never given the time of day-let alone his thoughtful attention-if it hadn't been deliberately put in his way by Melanie Ross, his thirteen-year-old daughter by a previous marriage. Melanie's weekend stays at his Swedish-modern Pacific Heights home was part of the settlement-visiting rights along with a substantial monthly sum for child support-which he'd arranged with Tania, his wife, when they divorced seven years ago.
Shortly after this agreement he'd lost all but the most tenuous contact with Tania, but to Mel-anie he remained a faithful and devoted father. In seven years they'd missed no more than five or six weekends together. Despite a growing law practice and a crowded social agenda he always managed to find time for the freckle-faced little girl he called his "horny honeybun," and nothing short of catastrophe was allowed to disturb the two days they spent together as father and daughter each week. From a sassy playful tomboy he'd watched her grow up and change into a willowy sexpot of thirteen, a firm-titted knockout with bedroom eyes and a living-room pussy in which he'd been snuggling his pecker for close to two years.
For a man of Baxter's standing in the legal and social community of the city, the initial courage required to fuck his own daughter had been considerable. The name of Ross, Murphy & Associates had been built up over fifteen years of successful practice in representing the often sticky affairs of corporate interests. It was a business where a lawyer's integrity meant as much as the skill with which he directed his client's case. Plenty of scoundrels hid behind the thickets of law, but Baxter Ross had always been known to stand out front, his hands clean, his conscience clear. Getting involved in a physical way with his own daughter was not something he undertook lightly.
Aside from the moral aspects and the possible psychological effects it might have on Melanie's further development, he'd been forced to consider his reputation as a respected member of the bar. He'd spent at least a year thinking and reading about the possible liabilities attending the act of incest, the threat to his own career as well as to Melanie's personal life if their secret were ever to surface.
Thus, on the day he'd prepared for the big plunge into her tiny crack, he'd submitted her to a legal oath with which he hoped to make her silence binding; prior to their first act of intercourse, he'd made Melanie swear on a Bible that the nature of their relationship would never travel beyond the four walls of his home.
Two years later the ad in the Barbarian was to to make her oath meaningless.
Baxter had never been much interested in reading things which did not have a direct bearing on the practical affairs of his life. The Wall Street Journal, Business Week, the Yale Law Review, the occasional best-selling novel, several weekly news magazines, and the morning and afternoon dailies marked the limits of his literary pursuits. Among this serious assembly of journals and periodicals, the Bay Barbarian now stood out prominently. This had come about quite suddenly as in the past Baxter had rarely rated the paper little more than a curve-ball observation in passing. The revolutionary sloganeering, the headlines that spoke of anarchy and discontent, the clear contempt of the young for traditional values, the irreverent prose and inflammatory pictures-all of these had always combined to make him feel vaguely threatened and put him off buying a copy the few times his curiosity had almost persuaded him to do so.
It was Melanie who finally got him into the habit of reading and even liking it. Soon he found himself looking forward to the arrival of each fresh issue; then he was hooked. He read the Barbarian, not as a tract of anti-establishment views, but as a scroll imparting to him the exotic knowledge of a lost body of sex rites. He never bothered with its journalistic contents, but flipped immediately to the brutally frank solicitations for sex in the back pages-the place where men, women and couples advertised their erotic fantasies in the hope that somewhere a kindred spirit would read their wishes and, by waggling a magic cunt or cock, make their dreams come true.
Baxter loved these ads. Their kinky flavor intrigued him as much as they stirred his own yen for sexual novelty-new cunt, new ass, new tits, a whole new fuck game.. He devoured them, these messages from French experts, super-hung studs and strong butch males who described their endowments with superlatives of "king-sized cock" and a "mouth to make you purr"; couples seeking other couples for "discreet fun" or bi-girls for "threesomes"; middle-aged swingers and handsome bachelors eager to find "buxom housewives" or "soft shy chicks" for afternoon dates; clean-cut gays and passive males stating their interest in "dominant women or men of any race"; young coeds and boy "slaves" promising sexual favors in exchange for room and board; group sex enthusiasts, S&M aficionados, bondage freaks, foxy masseuses, big-breasted amazons-there was no end to the sexual types seeking to be serviced by mouth, cock, cunt, ass, boot, foot, hand, and whip.
The varieties of fuck desires the advertisers were seeking to administer or fulfill were virtually limitless. Some of them, like the requirements of the "leather boys" interested in "dirty" sex, were so far out as to be impossible. Others, such as those from nymphs and fuck-hungry widows, demanded genitalia of a superhuman size. A few were clearly ridiculous.
About the latter, Baxter would laugh together with Melanie after pointing them out to her. She had a weakness for dirty jokes. But for the most part he considered these ads a serious matter. Their contents aroused vivid fantasies in his mind, fantasies that were further embroidered by the discussion of their own fuck likes and dislikes which he would subsequently carry on with his daughter-Would she like to have her menstruation eaten by an impotent man of sixty?-Would it be nice to fuck with an ice cube up the ass? A hot tamale?-Would they enjoy a group grope wearing nothing but peanut butter and jelly?-Would she like a lezzie?-Could he go for a homo?-Would he enjoy watching her screw a dog?-Would she like to dress up in his clothes and fuck him while he wore her heels and training bra?- Would she like to give head to ten men in a row? To a guy standing on his head?-Would she enjoy watching her dad screw a dyke in the ass?-Would she like to lick the balls of a faggot at the same time he was ramming it up her daddy's dirt track?
Their imaginations ran wild as father and daughter jointly scanned the ads and talked, with hoarse voices and flushed faces, about the 1001 novelties to make "it" better, even better than it already was, better than the last time, always better, progressively better, every day in every way better and better.
"Melanie?"
Baxter placed a finger on the ad he'd singled out for Melanie's attention and raised an expectant eye in the direction of the kitchen door. The sound of running water and clattering dishes extended faintly to the living room couch where he lay stretched out, naked, the Barbarian pitched like a tent over his cock.
Melanie had arrived early that Friday, the start of their usual weekend fuck marathon, commuting from her mother's home in Berkeley with a shoulder bag of school books and an ample supply of birth control pills. The latter was a carry-over from her formerly strong apprehensions of getting knocked up by her own father. She'd only been menstruating for little over a year and was still haunted by stories of painful abortions and unwanted children. It had taken Baxter a long time to persuade her that simple modern precautions made her fears groundless.
Nonetheless, during their initial period of sexual contact, he'd been careful to restrain himself from shooting off inside her, letting her mind rest easy until she'd been fitted with a diaphragm. He had personally selected the doctor for the fitting and had been present in the office where the small contraceptive insertion was made. At the same time that the diaphragm was fitted, she'd started taking the Pill. This double assurance against conception had finally swept away the last of her inhibitions and after that there'd been no holding her back. Her little pussy turned overnight into a demanding orifice requiring constant attention. It would do anything to win the favor of her dad's cock. As with so many young girls the initial discovery of sex had turned her into a fanatic of the cunt more rapid than the legions of history warring for gain and glory.
During the week, though, at her mom's home in Berkeley, she let her pussy starve, saving it all for her dad, keeping clean for five days of the week and making up for it with a vengeance during the two spent in his bed. From the moment she set foot in the door there was only one thing on her mind. Using a key given to her by Baxter, she let herself into the house, tossing her school books, purse and coat in the passage of her run down the hall; struggling with her blouse, bra, and neck scarf before reaching the living room; almost tripping over her skirt as she let it slip down her thighs without breaking her run; off with her panties and shoes, her hand on her slitted bun, her tits bounding freely, a little leap, a twitch of her rump and there she was! Home! Home on the stilt of her father's cock standing straight up from his fly in expectation of her arrival. In a period of two years this had become their standard form of greeting. "Melanie!"
Baxter called again, his finger still on the ad he wished to show her:
FATHERS. Do you have a nubile daughter? Wish to meet others like you for purposes of exchange? Write P O.B. 5762, San Francisco 94414. Photo a must. Sincere only.
From the kitchen came a sudden cessation of clattering dishes; the tap was turned off. They'd just finished dinner and as usual Melanie had been quick to clean up so as to be free to spend the rest of the night in undisturbed fuck games. Earlier they'd enjoyed a brief roll on the floor Shortly after Baxter got home from the office. Their fuck had been quick and satisfying-an appetizer to wet cunt and cock for the main course to follow-as it always was after not having been near each other for five days.
With her usually horny haste for action, Melanie had come running into the living room, ready and stripped with a litter of discarded clothing and books in her wake. She'd leapt on his cock. For about fifteen minutes they'd bitten, clawed, sucked, and diddled each other with flailing limbs, grinding loins and howling screams of transport. Afterward they'd both felt better; the edge had been taken off their fierce, pent-up fuck need.
"Sorry, Dad. I didn't hear you-the tap was running." Melanie entered the living room with the perky steps of a hopped-up little bird, fluttering her hands to dry them on the apron she wore tied around an hourglass waist. Her mouth bubbled an apology and small lights twinkled sensuously in her eyes. She looked like a French maid on a post card-nude beneath the apron except for a pair of sheer stockings gartered to her thighs and a frilly white hat of lacebobbing on her head.
She always attempted to dress for the part of the games played with her dad; this evening she'd told him she wanted to play "master and maid"-a sadistic little game they'd played previously in which her father would try to rape her while she struggled to retain her virtue. The last time they'd done this she'd ended up with a black eye; her dad had limped off with his nuts in an uproar and his cock half chewed. They'd had a lot of fun.
Now when she smiled at him, it was the smile of a doll's face framed by chestnut waves of hairspilling onto her shoulders. The little fluff of her bun poking beneath the apron showed the same color as her hair in contrast to her firm little rump which was a peach of pink flesh. When she leaned over to unpitch the paper tent from his cock, her tits broke over the frilly apron top, swinging small and light just above his head. She laid a finger across her pouting lips and examined the ad he'd pointed out to her without saying a word.
Finally she asked, "What does 'noobile' mean?"
From his prone position on the couch Baxter was able to look up her legs as she stood beside him on the floor. The light muff of pubic hair- most of it newly grown-yielded a stark distinctness against the white of her flat, smooth belly. There, beneath the triangular mat of silky growth, was her warm little bucket of cunt-a bucket just big enough to carry the load of his pecker. It hadn't always been a bucket. When he'd first gotten inside it, it'd been no more than a small thimble of flesh which only his cock had scooped out to its present width- an uncommonly large width for a little girl of thirteen. Yet, despite the usual tightness of un-cracked cherry, breaking the seal of her virginity had been surprisingly easy. Baxter had been amazed that at age eleven Melanie's pussy hadn't been more resistant. She'd cried a little, squirmed, tossed and moaned, and then it'd been all over-a small puddle of blood and piss left as evidence of her initiation by the edge of his cock.
Tania, his former wife, had also been a cherry when he got to her; but unlike Melanie she'd bled like a pig. It had happened in a motel near Hayward-Baxter's first date with the big-assed high school pricktease who was to become Melanie's mother; and the next morning, just as he and Tania were making their way out of the motel, the manager had suddenly blocked their path, waving the blood-smeared sheet from their bed and demanding payment for damages.
It might have been there or shortly afterward in another motel that Melanie was 'conceived, for within a few weeks Tania was knocked up and they'd been married in a shotgun ceremony in her parents' living room. Baxter didn't like to think back that far. Melanie had been the only good thing to come out of his wife's cunt; she was like a living fuck doll that drooled from the pussy when he squeezed it. She had the set of Tania's fleshy knockers, a thirteen-year-old mind all her own, but her little pussy was his -his alone to do with as he pleased where and whenever he felt like doing it. He considered himself a lucky man.
"Dad?" Melanie's voice had an impatient ring, "Dad, do you know what 'noobile' means?"
"I think it means something like fuckable. Why don't you get the dictionary from the shelf and look up its precise meaning just as I always do when I don't know a word." He worked his hand between her thighs and felt the moist slit open to his grasp. Then he withdrew it quickly, "Build up your vocabulary. Words can be used in two ways-either to disguise or to clarify. I suspect the former is most prevalent. Now git!" He slapped her rump lightly as she turned on her heels.
To get the dictionary Melanie had to climb up on a chair which she placed against the bookcase which took up one wall of the room. The shelves contained mostly reference volumes and law books, a few archaic pre-Victorian thrillers, boyhood adventure novels, the classics of the ages, leatherbound scores of light operettas and shelf upon shelf of learned sex studies with illustrations and photographs of everything that had ever been done in the field. Melanie had glanced through most of them. Her ass strained as she reached for the dictionary, exposing the round hump of flesh in her underside crotch. When she jumped off the chair, dictionary in hand, her tits bounced lightly and her apron flew up to show the fullness of her honey-bun.
Melanie mumbled while 'leafing the pages, "Noobile ... Noobile ... Noobile." She plunked her naked ass down on the edge of the couch and opened the dictionary in her lap. "Here it is!" she cried, "N-u-b-i-l-e-of marriageable condition or age; physically suited for or desirous of sexual relationship, used especially of young girls or young women."
Baxter repeated the last part of the definition, stressing, "suited for" and "desirous of." Then he faced her triumphantly, sticking two fingers in the slit she'd thrust out at him, "That's exactly what the doctor ordered." He made Melanie repeat the dictionary definition once more and said, "That means you and I. Do you know what the ad means now?"
Melanie was occupied with watching his cock grow hard in excitement. When it was soft it looked like a bald little bird in a nest of crotch hair, but grown to full erection it reminded her of a vulture with a giant beak louring after her pussy. She put the dictionary on the floor and stretched her legs on the couch, reclining her face in his groin next to the throbbing shaft. Her tongue found the root and licked it gingerly. She saw her father lean over from his half-seated position to unfasten the string of her apron; next his hands were on her thighs, rolling down her stockings which he peeled from her feet after she'd raised them closer to his reach. His cock pushed forward right up against her forehead while his knees prodded her flushed nipples. She bit gently into his balls, pushing them up with one hand and feeling their familiar leathery texture chafe her chin. She wished she could swallow them whole. She wished she could curl her whole body around the shaft of his prick. Her lips detached from the wrinkled sac of his balls. "Daddy, will you take that silly hat off my head?"
Baxter tossed the frilly thing to the floor and pulled her body up by the shoulders until she came to rest with her boobs on his chest, her eyes facing his. "Do you know what the ad means now?" he repeated. "Do you know what I'm talking about? This ad is asking parents- fathers in particular-to swap their daughters with each other. In other words ..." He picked up the Barbarian and slapped the page of sex ads. "In other words this ad is seeking members to form a club for incestuous swappers. This is rather unique, isn't it? I'm definitely going to find out more about it," he announced firmly.
This time Melanie knew her father was serious. His eyebrows were knitted in a frown which showed he meant business, that this was no joke. The combination of swapping and incest-a sex cult of parents who fucked their own children, then exchanged them-for others-had caught his imagination. His excitement was obvious; his cock stood up straight like a periscope scouting a new world of tempting fuck thrills.
Melanie was not at all surprised. For some time she'd been aware that her dad wanted a change of pace-a new "lube job" as he called it. Out on the street it was embarrassing the way he eyed the little girls, especially those with big knockers. Their mothers didn't interest him; grown-up cunt with the hole of a crater and the muff of a beaver left him cold. In his desk drawer she'd seen him in nude pictures in all positions with some of the women he'd fucked in the past, all of them full-titted with big buttocks that spread like a pillow where they showed them seated on his face. But that was the past. His tastes had changed. Melanie knew what he wanted now-little girls with big knockers and tight pussies wearing only a shadow of pubic fuzz; little girls with firm young assholes capable of being widened for entrance.
Except for one of these-her being a little girl-Melanie met none of the other requirements to match her father's wishes; her boobies, though firm and well-shaped, were still far from being filled out completely; her pussy after two years of steady cock drill had inevitably expanded and lost its initial tightness; the fuzz on her bun, perhaps stimulated by the hormonal effect of the pill, had changed to a generous mitten of wool; and there was just nothing to be done with her asshole as yet-it was still simply too narrow for entrance. She felt inade-qute. The years would eventually bring her all the things her father now desired but by then it would be too late-she would no longer be a little girl. She couldn't blame him for wanting variety. She only regretted her inability to give him what he wanted.
At first she'd felt hurt to discover her father lusting after new pussy. But she'd also understood it and when she examined her own feelings she'd found them running very much along the same track-different cock, a new daddy, a whole new fuck game! Deep down she admitted to herself that actually she liked the idea a whole lot.
"How would you like to fuck another daddy?"
At the sound of his voice, Melanie's doll face mooned up from between Baxter's knees. He watched her swallow hard and make a familiar facial grimace, her lips twisted like a corkscrew at the filthy taste of his jissom. She scuffed her knees on the floor and opened her mouth to answer, but instead a fat bubble of come burst on her lower lip and tracked down along her jaw; it slipped off her chin and landed on the nipple tip of one of her boobies. Baxter leaned over and licked it off and found it equally unpalatable; he thrust his head forward, his lips puckered at the foul taste of his own come, and planted his mouth on Melanie's, transferring the gob of jissom from his tongue back to hers.
Then he leaned back, his head on the nod. He felt strangely deflated, aimless, empty, lacking both strength and will-the way he always felt after a rough-riding, nut-tossing, scream-ing-meemy blowjob with Melanie so greedy for his juice that she'd as soon choke to death than let his pecker go. He had to hand it to her-she might be a teensy bit small in the boob department, a little broad in the cunt and a wee bit short in the asshole, but she knew how to suck a joint.
She'd mouth-fucked his dick like a lollipop, squatting in front of the couch between his legs and facing his dong, one small hand handling his balls, the other stuck up his asshole, her titties slapping against his knee and her pussy riding his foot in her crotch, giving his toenails a polish with cunt juice that afterward shone like lacquer. He'd been thrilled by the sounds she made, the sawed-cff suck noises of a sliding trombone and the burst of a kettle drum in her throat when he shot his load and her mouth flooded and still she tried to squeeze the last drop from his pecker, groaning like a base fiddle and squirming her face all over his groin while tears of joy and exhaustion rolled down her cheeks.
Whenever her father came, Melanie cried tears of happiness. She shared the release of his fuck tension as if it were her own. Watching him jerk his big ass and go all stiff and then heave like a drunk she considered to be almost as satisfying as getting it herself. It gave her pleasure to know that she could dish it out as well as she could take it. Yet, as she wiped her mouth and heard his voice, she was also reminded that as good as it had been it had been only as good as the last time. She faced the issue honestly: They'd gotten into a fuck rut. It was good-perhaps even great-but may be it would be better with a different daddy; maybe her father would enjoy it more with another little girl. Everything was worth trying at least once, Melanie considered, and if one thing didn't work than they'd go on to something else. The world was full of daddies and little girls. A change of fuck mates might be good for both of them.
Baxter was still awaiting her reply. "Well?" he urged, "Would you like to fuck another daddy?" He took her face in his hands and raised it up from his pecker. Melanie nodded her head; she'd do anything he wanted her to do, still she couldn't help feeling perturbed by one big question. "I've never done it with anyone else," she said, voicing her apprehension.
What bothered her was the fact that a new fuck game required a new set of fuck rules. How should she behave facing the cock of a stranger? Could she be as free with cunt and mouth as she was with her own father? Familiarity with her father's prick dispensed her from treating it with any kind of formality. His cock could care less about the rules of polite society; nothing she could do to it, short of extreme pain, would be considered improper. With her dad everything went. His cock was more than a friend; it was a confidante to whom she could entrust the secret desires of her pussy no matter how intimate or bizarre they might be. But would it be the same with another daddy? How was she to behave? Should she kiss his dong during their first fuck or wait till they knew each other better? Should she swallow his wad or use a napkin? She wondered if she'd be shy with a stranger. "Daddy?" she asked suddenly, "will you stay close to me just for the first time?"
Baxter raised her up further until she was seated on the couch, his cock prodding her rump. He cradled her boobs in the crook of one arm. "Don't worry your little head. We'll screw together or not at all. I'll be there to watch you with your new daddy, at least the first time. If he's no good or funny out he goes." He continued to tell her of the excitement she'd experience at her first sight, touch, and smell of a new cock.
"It's like a whole new world opening up to you. Each cock has a personality of its own, like some are easily angered while others are slow to rise, some fall apart at the first touch of pussy but a few can s and up for hours. You'll learn to tell them apart after a while, separate the men from the little boys, know what I mean?"
Melanie knew what he meant. She jumped off the couch and hurried for the desk. She returned with a yellow legal pad, an envelope and a pen. She picked the Barbarian from the floor and folded it to expose the small ad that excited them both. Slapping it on the table she cried, "Okay, Dad! We've talked about it enough. If you want another little girl you're not gonna get it sitting on your dick. You gotta move. If you wanna get it on, get it on. Don't fuck around. Here's your faggy legal paper, there's the pen. Sit down and write that letter or I'll chew your nuts off. When you're finished put it in an envelope and I'll mail it first thing in the morning."
She pulled him up roughly and jockeyed the coffee table with the writing material in front of the couch. Then she withdrew to the leather armchair by the banked fireplace across the room. She sat down beneath a framed Picasso reproduction showing a man fucking a goat. She opened her legs wide and draped them over the arm rests. Her hand held a long iron poker which she waved suggestively over her woolly bun, though her voice retained its edge of menace, "I'm not gonna let you get near it till you finish writing that letter. Damn it! Do I have to tell you every cocksucking thing?"
Baxter bent over the writing pad, pen in hand. He'd learned to take his lumps quietly when Melanie got into one of her moods. Like most little girls she had a way of suddenly flying into a rage; it was especially bad the odd time when he failed to make her come and she'd grabass with his balls, bite his cock, fight, kick, and tussle and call him every name in the book. Her tantrums were rare but they came unexpected and built up rapidly to a foot-stomping, tongue-lashing fury. In such cases he'd found it wise to humor her passively by doing whatever it was she wished him to do; if she wanted French fries and a thick shake, then out he'd run in the silent streets looking for an all-night diner.
She knew how to make him feel knee high, less than dirt, with a single lash of her tongue while his dick cowered limp between his legs and he'd stop his ears with a pillow to shield them from her taunts-"Hey, Mr. Limp Dick! Am I too much woman for you? Am I wearing you out? Is this little pussy getting too much to handle? You need a tow truck to get it up again?"
Baxter's pen moved rapidly over the paper. He felt Melanie's cold stare resting on the crown of his head as it bent closer over the table. A minute later he handed her the scribbled piece of paper. She read it out loud:
Dear Sir:
My daughter and I read with interest and a great deal of curiosity your ad in the Bay Barbarian of Friday last. However, we found its phrasing vague and would like to know more about your plans. My daughter and I have discussed the intent of your ad and are in agreement to apply for dual membership if the club is seriously getting off the ground.
Sincerely, Baxter Ross and Melanie
"That's fine, Dad. Short and to the point." Melanie placed the letter back on the table and jiggled her boobies excitedly. Her tantrum had passed. She put the poker back by the fireplace and showed him the pink gash of her bun before crossing her legs and making with a mock frown, "What about the picture, though? He wants a picture of us. I guess I'll get the Polaroid. The last time you took nude pictures of me was a year ago." She thrust her hand between her crotch and pulled the fuzzy cunt lips wide. "I've grown since then."
Baxter protested playfully, "It wasn't a year ago. I'll show you the album. I've got them all marked by date." His cock dangled as he jumped to his feet and padded over to the bookcase where he pulled the album from the lowest shelf. Melanie reached for his prick and pulled him closer to the arm chair in which she'd remained seated. She continued to jigger his tool lightly while he opened the album at the last page of photographs. "That was nine months ago," he said, pointing to a close-up he'd taken of her cunt-a bald fleshy rose of pink petals showing three of her fingers stuck in the entrance to the vulva.
Now it was Melanie's turn to counter with a playful protest, "But, Dad! Look at it! It's got almost no hair at all. Look at the bust I've got now-that's at least a year's growth. Anyway, nine months is pretty close to a year." She held the picture face up on the ridge of her mons, comparing the bald rose of cunt in the photo to the thick muff now surrounding her pussy.
Baxter took a critical stance, letting his eyes travel back and forth from the picture to her twat. Finally he admitted that she was correct: the photo didn't do justice to her present swathe of pubic hair. "Mind you," he persisted, "I might have messed up the date. I still think it was taken no more than six months ago. Pubic hair grows fast during adolescence. I didn't grow a full cock of hair till I was eighteen."
"Stop bragging," Melanie said, .handing him the Polaroid camera she'd taken from the bottom desk drawer. She watched her father cup her titties with both hands. Because of their difference in height his pecker came up just below her nipples. During her last visit she'd made him come by jerking the shaft of his dong between her boobs and he'd enjoyed it, though afterward she'd had an awful time washing the goo out of her ears and eyes. "Do you think I've gotten bigger there?" she asked, watching him weigh each boobie and then give an approving nod. "Most definitely," he said. "I think it should be documented."
While Baxter set up the camera on a tripod, Melanie paged through the special section of the album which recorded the growth in her boobs, pussy, and ass from the age of eight until nine months ago. Some updating was clearly in order. Leafing the pages further she stopped at several pictures showing herself and Baxter in a number of different fuck positions. Then she heard him say, "I'm going to set the timing. Now, what kind of pose do you think will be proper to send along with the letter?" He didn't wait for her answer but replied to his own question, "I guess for a father and daughter picture it'd be nice to have you sitting in my lap. With your legs apart, so your pussy shows to good advantage."
He set the timing on the camera and took an immediate leap backward onto the chair where Melanie briefly made room and then slammed her ass back down on his cock. Her legs flung wide, popping her cunt in the eye of the camera facing them. Before the bulb flashed, Baxter managed to work his dick out from under her haunches and hold it between her thighs out in camera range. After one minute he got up, opened the camera's backpack and unpeeled the picture. He waved it in the air a few times to let it dry, finally making a pleased cry of approval when he looked at it closely, "That's perfect." He held it up. "All the little girls are going to like this, don't you think?"
Melanie always enjoyed looking at her own pussy in pictures; somehow it always seemed to look bigger that way. But when she studied the photograph her father handed her, she felt disappointed. At once she understood why he'd been so pleased with it-the whole picture was distorted: the effect of his cock's position standing up between her thighs had foreshortened the shaft to a monstrous size. The big, girderlike prick almost blocked out completely the rest of their bodies. It stood up like a giant tree trunk behind which their bodies had shrunk to near invisibility. Melanie noticed that her boobs looked unrealistically small and she couldn't even see her cunt for the shaft of her father's prick. She pointed to the place in the picture where her pussy lay obscured by his dick. "You can't even see my pussy. Your cock blocks it all out."
"What's wrong with it?" Baxter took the picture back and looked at it once more. "I like the effect. Every daddy knows you've got a juicy pussy, but I want the little girls to know I've got a joint on me-a joint and a half, know what I mean?"
"But, Dad, that's not honest. Your cock is big but not all that big!"
Baxter smiled and shrugged. Melanie grabbed his tool and squeezed it. A scarlet flush suffused the skin of the mushroom; its little slit opened and closed as she continued to milk it gently between two pincered fingers. Then she laid it in the flat of her hand, giving it a long measuring look. "It's hard to say," she finally admitted. "I've never seen another man's prick, so I don't know how it compares. But I still think you should be honest about it. It's like when I buy a bag of chips and when it all settles the bag's half enpty. It's not fair."
"You mean truth in packaging?" Baxter laughed out loud, "There's no such thing. But don't worry." He waggled his dick in her hand. "Don't worry. It's going to drive the little girls wild."
CHAPTER TWO
Melanie dreamed that she was lost in a forest where every tree was a giant cock and all the undergrowth thick and woolly like the hair on her daddy's ass. Each time she lay down to rest, a tree would plant itself in her snatch and fuck her with a rumble of foliage and shakings of earth. Her pussy ran with maple syrup and big Maine woodsmen came with shiny buckets to collect it and put it in bottles which people poured over pancakes and waffles. She moaned out loud, "Don't stop, Daddy! It's so good!"
Baxter was oblivious of her cries, the girlish moans of fuck joy that filled the room. His ears were clamped between her thighs in such a way as to filter out all sounds except the slurpings of his tongue over the slitted bun in her crotch. Melanie had folded her frisky pink ass over the seat of the desk chair, her titted chest and head swinging back and forth on the swivel seat. Her knees were lifted slightly off the floor to let her father eat comfortably into her snatch. He'd been nibbling for quite a while-quick peckings at her clit alternated by long, lingering strokes of his tongue over the length of the vulva, sometimes rounding the arch of her ass and running his tongue straight into the pit of her anus. Then she would give a spastic jump with her rump, her boobs squirming over the seat and her mouth uttering nonsense syllables, "Guck-guck! Ma-a-a-a! Bup-bup-bup! Holy hoo-hoo-hoo! Duh-duh-duh!!! Fu-fu-fii-FUCK!"
Melanie could feel the prickle in her bun, a heated pin cushion pierced by a million needles, stitching the frenzied design of her fuck joy. "Ooooh! Dad! Don't move your mouth. It's just right there. Perfect... Oooooooh!" She felt the sap drumming against the flushed membranes of her cunt, dribbling forth a little at a time to join her father's mouth drool in a thick trickle of slime down her thighs. She kept his head locked firmly in her crotch, afraid it might slip and shunt his tongue off the track of her cunt. Sometimes he'd stab it hard into the swollen snatch and she could feel it like a little cock-except it didn't sink as deep. She preferred the way his tongue dabbed her clit- thup-thup-thup-thup-thup.
She continued to listen in a swoon of pre-or-gasmic heat to the popping noises his mouth made as it puckered up against her slit. She craned her neck around to look over her shoulder at the squatted form of her father; his ass stuck out but his face was hidden in her thighs as if he were a dog sniffing at the hole of a bitch in heat. She felt her legs go weak and edged her rump off the seat of the chair. Her knees landed on the floor, bringing down Baxter's head at the same time in the clamp of her thighs. She heard him stretch out in a prone position behind her back. She brought her ass down farther as if she were about to piss but kept her knees spread wide, thus giving Baxter the leeway necessary to keep his lips sealed to her bun.
For Baxter it was not the most comfortable way of eating pussy, but he had little choice. Melanie'd just as soon lose a leg as to miss a moment of the hot tongue play in her twat. He felt hot and woolly-headed, trying to think how he'd ended up tongue-tied to his daughter's clit. It had all happened so suddenly as it usually did when the fuck urge hit them. After enclosing the photograph of his monstrous cock in response to the ad, they'd playfully fooled some more with the camera, taking snapshots of cunt and cock, singly and in tandem, and posing in different ways to bring out new slants on various fuck positions.
Then it had happened. He'd wanted to take a dose-up shot of her anus and, at his suggestion, she'd bent down over the swivel chair while he set up the shot. She'd spread the cheeks of her buttocks wide to give him a good line on the inside tract of her narrow rectum. But when he got it focused in the viewer, his cock had jerked up, overturning the camera and placing him face to face with the delightful anal opening.
The rest was a blur. The fuck urge had hit him-a maniacal gnawing need to screw his daughter in the ass. He remembered how he'd rammed his cock up the tiny crack. Then he'd blacked out, oblivious to Melanie's wails of pain and terror when the blood burst in her anus. His jissom had spurted.
When he reopened his eyes he saw his cock still gripped by the small opening in Melanie's rump. She was lying slumped over the chair, sobbing quietly. It was only then that he noticed the blood clinging to his balls. In panic, he wrenched his dick from her anus and began licking it, filled with fear that he'd done irreparable damage. Melanie had begun to scream again and the louder she screamed, the harder he licked, terrified at the thought that he'd split her rectum wide open. It took a full five minutes to realize that she was not screaming from pain. Her cries were cries of ecstasy. His tongue had slipped from her anus to the slit beneath it and set off the sweet current of suck static, the shriek of a kettle whistling in her twat, the convulsive cunt bubbles of a little sexpot being rapidly brought to boil. The soft mush of pussy in his mouth felt as if it were having a seizure. It might have been peeing. He'd never know.
Again he'd blacked out. Her cunt had choked off his breath.
When he came to, once more his head was locked between her thighs, his tongue still fastened to her clit. His nose was free to breathe through the nostrils quivering at the strong odor of cunt. Sometimes his nose would give traction to her slit which would then slide over it and briefly cut off his breath. Each time he surfaced from this his lips sputtered with the cunt hairs that had come stuck to his mouth.
Thirteen years old, that was all Melanie was. Thirteen years old. Times had certainly changed. Baxter remembered that when he was Melanie's age, his biggest thrill had been spying on his five elder sisters when they sat on the can. It was a good day when his eyes caught a glimpse of snatch or muff, a patch of ass, the tiny hint of a cunt slit. Mostly, though, there'd been nothing to see beyond a housecoat draped over their knees while their discharge hit the bowl. He'd gouged a crack in the cement of the outside wall of the bathroom and a good part of his early adolescence had been spent there observing the toilet habits of his sisters.
The first one to use it each morning was Jean-nie who had the farthest to travel to work. Jean-nie only raised her morning coat to wipe her ass and rarely exposed her pussy unlike Pat, the eldest, who always drew her nightie right up #?er her waist and let both tits hand out. His middle sister Carry had an odd way of wiping her slit, reaching her hand all the way under her crotch and drawing the toilet paper back and forth over her slit. Baxter only found out later that she'd been actually masturbating. His two other sisters, Mary and Charlene, had what he came to call dripping pussies; they used to sit for hours with cunt exposed, dribbling into the bowl.
Of all of them, Jeannie was his favorite, especially when the time came for her to clip the hair on her snatch. Then her big pink boObs would jiggle as she held her cunt in the cup of one hand and ran the scissors over it, the tufts of pussy hair floating in soft brown swirls from her bun to the newspaper spread at her feet and young Baxter jerking off at the other side of the wall, his eyes glued to the crack in the cement. But when she'd finished clipping came the best show of all: Jeannie would put the scissors aside and open her twat with two fingers, poking the others up and around the cunt lips to pick off the stray hairs like lint off a lapel. On these mornings, Baxter would slink away from the wall and spend the rest of the day in bed, jerking himself some dozen times and wanting to fuck her so badly that he could almost taste it.
"Daddy, are you all right? I must've come some six times. Wow! It feels like you gobbled it all up. It feels like it's all gone."
Melanie's face was red as a lobster. She stood bent over him, her titties hanging down like two undergrown mangoes, her bun dripping and glistening as if it'd been smeared with salad oil. Her anus and thighs were streaked with blood. It looked like war paint.
She'd been in a war all right, Baxter reflected, a war in which his tongue had breached her cunt six times, according to her count, though Vastly more by his own reckoning. He knew the blood-curdling shriek with which she signaled her orgasm and he'd counted at least ten of them. His throat felt as if she'd peed in it. She must have had a continuous, nonstop orgasm spraying his mouth with an uninterrupted burst of come.
He looked up and met his daughter's concerned gaze. He was still lying prone on the floor. "Get me a glass of water, will you?" he asked weakly. But when she was halfway out of the room, he changed his mind. "Let's have a quick refreshing shower right now and then hop into bed."
Melanie took the suggestion in stride. She faced him from the doorway to the room and laughed sarcastically, "Do you want me to call an ambulance to take you to the bathroom?" Her tongue flipped out. Then she was off like a shot, her naked feet clattering through the hall.
Baxter stumbled up after her. He saw her again by the stairwell in the hall where she'd taken up a provocative pose, her tongue out and her pussy clasped in one hand as if she were about to thrust it at him.
Again she laughed mockingly, "Do you want a wheelchair to take you to bed?" She giggled and dashed up the stairs leading to the second floor, the whippet of her rump bouncing as she took three-four steps at a time.
Melanie's laughter continued to peal through the house. Baxter followed it with a limp dick and leaden feet. He wished Melanie were a little less playful and a little more considerate. He was forty-five and no longer a young whip-persnapper. It would be nice to see her show a little respect. She was only interested in her own little games of sex stimulation. Right now she was in a prick-teasing mood and wouldn't rest until he'd cornered her somewhere under the kitchen table or in some deep closet on the second floor. Then they'd struggle, her hands pulling his prick and his fingers up her snatch, both bucking and thrashing in a clutch of limbs until he got his tool inside her and she'd break beneath him like a small wet kitten, whimpering, squealing, and begging for mercy from the hammering cock.
Baxter lumbered up the stairs, shouting at the top of his voice, "When I get to you, you better start thinking about getting a replacement -you won't have a pussy to piss from." He was getting into the spirit of their little fuck game. Somewhere he'd heard a door slam. He dashed in one guest room, then in another. Melanie was nowhere to be found. The thought of her little twat quivering somewhere in hiding put the starch back in his cock. He ran back into the rooms and flung the closet doors wide and scampered back to the hall. She wasn't in the bathroom. Leaning on the bannister of the second floor landing, he paused. At the far end of the hall the curtains billowed. In three leaps, he was at the window. It was open. Melanie had fled up the fire escape to the roof.
The neighboring house across the yard loomed darkly behind the row of poplars separating the properties. A bank of layered clouds sailed past the moon. Baxter threw one naked leg over the sill. His feet hit the cold steel of the fire escape. He climbed on tip-toe, his erect pecker swinging under his ass. They'd never fucked on the roof before. The wind brushed his bare buttocks, cooling his balls. He felt revitalized and strangely exhilarated. The thought of himself-the senior partner of Ross, Murphy & Associates, naked as a jaybird, seeking his daughter's prize pussy on the roof-the thought of himself engaged in this bizarre lustful quest, made him smile.
The fire escape stopped about three feet short of the red-tiled parapet which ran along the roof on four sides. Baxter crouched down on the grille platform just below it, waiting for the proper moment to fling himself over the parapet, his prick out like a lance. He rubbed his dick. He'd let her have it but good.
His hand traveled to the tiled coping. With one leap, he vaulted over it, his balls swinging under his ass, his pecker stabbing the cool night air. The rooftop pebbles crunched beneath his feet. He straightened up and at once was Melanie huddled in a dark nook of the containing wall. Her hands supported both her boobies whose nipples she trained on him like the barrels of two machine guns. "Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!"
A moment later, these same rat-ta-ta-ing boobies were in his mouth and Melanie was lying flat on her bun beneath him. He shoved his knee up her twat and felt the pricklings of her pubic muff riding it eagerly. He'd expected a violent struggle but instead she went all soft, mellowing like butter beneath his thrusting groin. Her legs scissored his waist and her hand reached down between them to reach for his pecker and guide it home to the hot little cunt-nest between her legs. He felt the warm vulva draw it in; the cunt lips gripped the shaft and he thrust down deeper, groaning at the milking sensation in his dick. Her twat was soft as cheese. He plunged his dick through it with one heaving lunge of his ass that made his balls slap hard against her thighs.
Melanie shrieked, a howl of pleasure that broke through their strained breathing and pierced the silence. The moon had moved completely behind the clouds and the roof turned even darker than it had been before. Melanie rammed her foot in his asshole. Her boobies slapped against his chest with each downward plunge of his loins. He bucked and once again thrust his pecker deep into the soaking gash in her crotch. Again she screamed, "The pebbles, Dad! Ouch! They hurt my ass!"
Baxter withdrew his cock reluctantly. It had been nice and warm inside Melanie's fleshy bun and the sudden rush of wind moving over the exposed shaft made him shiver. He sat back on his heels and continued to hold his pecker in one hand. Melanie had struggled to her feet. He watched her draw one buttock to the side and crane her neck over her shoulder to observe it more closely for damage. "Does it look bruised, Dad?" she asked. "It hurt like hell just now." She turned her back to him and took a few steps to the parapet. "The view is beautiful!" she cried over the silent city which lay spread before her in a jumble of darkened hills and distant glimmering lights.
The view from her side of the roof presented a picture postcard of San Francisco. She could see the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridge going to Oakland far away. She was familiar with the landmarks-Coit Tower, Nob Hill and the newly built, prick-shaped buildings downtown. She forgot all about the bruises on her buttocks and even failed to notice that she was shivering with cold. Her hand described an arc in the air. "Dad, which way is Chinatown from here? To the left or the right? I could really go for some won-ton right now," she remarked with relish.
She leaned her titties over the parapet, craning her neck in the fog which had rolled in from the bay. The city looked darkly mysterious. A horn blew faintly and she felt the cold wind play around her pussy. Then she felt the more substantial element of her father batter the slit she'd thrust out from under her ass while leaning over the parapet. He was breathing down her neck, holding his pecker by the root and aiming it for her hole. "How's this for won-ton?" he said, pressing up against her with his cock hot on her ass.
Melanie continued to gaze out over the city. Baxter's cock lay lengthwise up the crack of her ass. She noticed that it felt surprisingly hot. The rest of her buttocks pressed into his hairy groin which was not as warm as his dick but warmer than the hands he placed on her hips. Melanie pointed at a distant twinkling of light. "Is that a ship, Dad? Do you think it's going to China? I'd sure like some won-ton." At the same time she drew his pecker out from the crack and passed it beneath her own crotch. The thick shaft throbbed in her hand as she guided it to the hole in her slitted plum, pressing her ass more forcefully against his belly.
By leaning her upper body farther over the parapet and raising her ass she thrust her pussy out at a more convenient angle of entrance. She'd now presented Baxter with a clear bead on her underside cunt opening and held her breath. With both hands she gripped the tiled rail of the wall from which she leaned out over the silent street below. Her titties hung still from her chest as she looked down on the dark pavement. Her father's hands gripped her by the waist. His cock was touching the edge of the cunt. He pushed forward. His cock entered her. She felt the familiar stab and began to wriggle her groin against the wall in time to Baxter's groin wriggling against her ass. She closed her eyes and began to hum with pleasure.
What Melanie liked best about the "backdoor" way to her cunt was the sensation of feeling the cock at angles which were impossible to achieve with the regular fuck positions. Although the parapet supported most of her weight, it still felt as if she were seated on a big stump or prick poking her insides every which way. Her boobies swung over the edge of the wall while she rode his cock firmly, her thighs spread wide, her hands gripped around the edge of the parapet. Down below a car moved slowly along the street; it slowed down at the intersection and sped away. Melanie watched her boobs slap against the exterior wall with each lunge of her father's prick behind her. The hair streamed down her head and blew in the wind. She wondered what would happen if anyone were to see her hanging naked over the roof, bouncing at the hammer of her father's dick.
Melanie smiled and then shrieked with joy. His cock was stirring her pussy now just the right way, the way she liked it-long lazy rotations scouring the interior cunt flesh, hitting all the thrill nerves. She squealed and heard Baxter's voice cut in the wind, "Let's not wake up anybody, huh?"
Despite the breeze and the occasional cold gust of wind sweeping the roof, Baxter was starting to work up a sweat. Fucking her like that was a pleasure. The parapet supported her weight, leaving him only the firm round ass and its underside pussy to concentrate on. In the silence that surrounded the roof, he heard the suction pull of his dick as it slid in and out of its pocket of flesh. Sounds always carried more by night than by day. The breeze scattered Melanie's moans in the darkness. Even his own breath was amplified by the silence to an eerie pitch. The sounds grew louder as the pace of his cock thrusts increased. He was riding her hard now, slapping his groin into her bun and watching all of the solid pink rump scoot up at different angles from the parapet. Occasionally, he saw her hair fly up from below the edge where her head looked down on the street. He would have liked to see her face, particularly the way it grimaced when he thrust down deep and eased up slowly to make her feel the full length of the battering rod.
But he was satisfied with the sight of her rump twisting itself like a cork on the screw of his pecker. Her joints moved as if they'd been greased with oil, meshing her groin rotations with the plungings of his cock. She was able to squeeze and relax them at will so that when his pecker lunged down deep, she'd squeeze its head by contracting her womb; and when he stood at the point of ejaculation, she relaxed her cunt sufficiently to keep his engorgement from bursting.
The technique of vaginal muscle control was one of the first things he'd taught his daughter after becoming intimate with her. They'd studied diagrams of the vulva, paying particular attention to its musculature-the location of the muscles as well as their different functions. Melanie learned quickly. On weekends she practiced with his cock and during the rest of the week she used her own finger or a phallic substitute like a ladle or bicycle pump. Within six months, her vaginal coordination had gotten to the point where she could milk his dick by lying still, moving only the interior cunt muscles. But because it was a very slow process, she rarely fucked him that way.
Their fuck urge was strong and they always humped like maniacs, but the few times he'd let Melanie quietly muscle-fuck his cock had been one of the biggest treats in his life. It had also been the slowest fuck in his experience; she'd lain on top of him, still as a mouse, working the cunt muscles for what seemed like hours while he lay equally still beneath her. The tension in his dick had been slow to build up but once the flutters started, it simply lasted and lasted; and when flutter came to twitch, he'd writhed and squirmed like a man being roasted over a low fire of burning cunt. It'd been too good to be true. With the final squeeze of her cunt, she'd just about broken his dick in half.
"Squeeze your cunt a little," Baxter panted over Melanie's shoulder. He lay doubled over her rump, connected cock to cunt, and reached for her little boobs. But she was hanging over the wall too far for his reach and he pla[ lis arms back around her waist, shoving h ck hard into her snatch so that it appeared for a moment as if he were carrying her front-to-back on his stump of prick. When he felt her cunt squeeze, he held still, shaking all over. Then he resumed his lungings; with one more squeeze like that he would have shot his load. Suddenly he yelled out loud, "Easy, you silly girl! Easy! Don't bounce like that. You're going to fall off the roof that way. Easy! Easy! For Pete's sake! Easy! Whoa! Whoa!"
Baxter was concerned and in the odd moment of diminished fuck flutters he would show his concern by shouting words of caution to his daughter. With each hard thrust of his cock, Melanie's ass jumped dangerously high. He was unable to see her head on the other side of the edge but he knew by her squeals that he was bringing her close to release. She squirmed and tossed her ass, trusting that the grip of his dick would keep her from tumbling over the parapet.
Baxter, though, didn't quite share her faith in the strength of his cock. Once she went sliding off his dick, down she'd go into the street. But during the intense twitches of cock fever he for^ got all about his concern, ramming and thrusting his groin as if his life depended on it. The sap was rising in his balls. He suddenly realized that he could care less if Melanie went ass over teakettle off the roof. In his rage of fuck lust it was only the need for release that counted. He continued to lunge and stir his cock, timing it with her squeals to determine the proper point for a simultaneous climax. Melanie was goading him on; she released one hand from the edge and flung it back to grab the root of his pecker, jerking it. From down below the parapet, he heard her shriek, "Oooh! I love it! Mother! Jeesushhhh! Ooooh! I love it!"
That was all he needed to hear. She was getting close to popping. He was off now, racketing along like a locomotive under a full head of steam, his cock driving down her crack with hoots and blasts and a raging fire in his balls. With one jiggering thumb, he clanged the bell of her clit. He had both hands around her lower bcily and grappled with the cunt lips enclosing his shaft. Her ass danced in his groin. A suddenly burst of fireworks seemed to light the sky. Then his thighs were quivering against hers; he was fucking her dog-style, his groin glued to her underside rump.
Melanie was screaming like a siren both at the frantic itch in her twat and in real terror at the possibility of falling headlong from the roof. With each lunge of her father's dick, her ass jumped clear off the ledge. At the same time the boil in her pussy was rising to its highest pitch of pleasure. With each violent lunge she saw her boobies jiggle like butterballs, the nipples straining downward. With his final lunge her whole body flew up and she instinctively spread out her arms like wings, screaming at the silent street, "I'M COMING!!! OOOOH! I'M COMING-ING-ING-ING-INGGGGG!!!"
It was only by a fluke of action that Baxter's arms shot out to grab his daughter's ass and thus save her from crashing two floors down to the pavement below. The sudden crunch of her cunt bearing down on his shaft as she fell back from the parapet brought his release. The sperm rushed up along the ducts from a million bursting cells. He yelped. His prick exploded. The jism squirted. Her snatch bit into the tip of his cock. He yelped again, clutching her ass to his groin and feeling the flutters slowly subside. He laid his head on her shoulder and felt her hand down under his crotch stroking his balls. With a final shudder he flung the last gob of jism from his dick. "That was good," he moaned quietly. "But I'm cold as hell."
Melanie's feet hit the roof. She showed her relief at feeling a solid surface beneath her again. A big red welt where the ledge had supported her stomach circled her waist. The flesh of her boobs looked raw from chafing against the wall. She turned to face him, taking his pecker in both hands. "Daddy, I'm freezing. Let's get back inside the house."
She went first down the fire escape, lowering herself foot by foot in the dark until she found the windowsill on the second floor. Before easing herself over it, she looked up and saw her father make his way down above her. He lowered himself step by step ass-first; but when he turned to measure his distance from the window his cock flipped to the side and briefly presented itself in outline against the moon which had reappeared from behind the clouds. Melanie would always remember that moment: his prick had stood there stiffly, looking for all the world as if it were acknowledging her presence on the sill with a military salute.
It was while soaping Daddy's dick under the shower shortly after their return from the roof that Melanie sprang the little surprise she'd been waiting to spring all evening. Baxter was in the mood to listen. The water splashing down on his body had put the spunk back in his balls. The workings of the soap cloth wrapped around Melanie's hand had gradually quickened his dick to hardness. He particularly thrilled to the way she squatted in front of him in the shower stall, reaching up with her hand to work the soap into his scrotum and back along the crack of his ass. He almost triggered off several times when she ringed his slippery dick with two fingers and gave it a few hard pulls; but when she prodded her finger up his equally slippery asshole he didn't care if she'd left it there forever. A soapy asshole and a little girl's finger-as far as he was concerned nature showed no better union of two combining elements than these two. Melanie was a magician of the soap cloth. In her hands it became invested with uncanny powers. She always withdrew the cloth from his lathered dick with a small ceremonial flourish revealing, as through magic, a giant erection where previously there'd been only a limp little weenie. Baxter looked down at it admiringly. "It's got its back up again," he said, pointing to the obvious.
Melanie rose to her feet and expressed approval of the job she'd done. She watched the water break on the ridge of the muscled shaft extended lengthwise under the shower. Then she took a small step forward and let the glistening cock head poke into the soft curve of her belly. "It's been hard just about all night," she said. Baxter trailed both her hands over the wet molds of boob on her chest. "How come your nipples are so soft tonight? They feel all soggy."
Melanie swept the soaking hair away from her forehead and squinted down at the twin jellies of tit in her father's hands. He was right, she discovered. Her little nipples floated limp in the center of their pinkish saucers. They appeared unusually soft. She wondered if she were ill. "Rub them a little," she suggested. At once Baxter gripped her shoulders and twirled her on her heels so that she stood with her back turned to him. He snuggled up close behind her, propping his dick up along the crack of her buttocks and reaching around with both arms to cup her boobies. He rubbed them like patty cakes and Melanie soon felt the nipples grow hard again. With her backside rubbing up pleasantly against his groin while the water poured down over their heads she suddenly remembered the little surprise she had in store for them. She spoke loud over the clattering shower, "Dad, you remember that ad in the Bay Barbarian last week? The 'jack-off-by-telephone' number?"
Baxter had laid his cheek against her neck, hunched over with both hands playing her boobies. They weren't very large, about normal for a girl of thirteen. He'd often wished they were bigger. He liked to see little girls with a chest-ful of tit that hung heavy and swung together with loud slapping sounds. Melanie's mother used to have tits like that, though she was far from a little girl; Tania was a battleship with the cunt of a man-of-war which the torpedo of his cock had never succeeded in sinking. Regardless of the explosives his cock hurled at her twat, it had consistently failed to bring it under the waves of orgasmic release. For years he'd tried everything to give her the climax she so much desired; he'd battered away at her cunt for nights on end, using cock, dildo, broomstick, even the leg of a table-all of it in vain until Tania came home one day radiant with happiness. She'd met a beautiful, big-titted bull dyke in a bar and she'd gone home with her and for the first time in her life had known what it was like to reach climax. After that their marriage quickly went downhill. Tania began spending most nights away from home fucking her new girl friend and Baxter started laying every cunt in sight until he discovered little girls and Melanie.
For years Tania had been seeing a regular girl friend, a young girl of twenty-one with a tongue she described as the closest thing to heaven on earth. He'd often discussed with Melanie the nature of her mother's sex life. He'd been especially anxious to discover if Tania had been trying to tumble their daughter, but Melanie had assured him that her mother kept strictly to her girl friend and never so much as showed a sign of being interested in her sexually. Baxter, however, was not convinced. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Melanie would fill out completely and her mother would again be looking for new fuck thrills with a young girl. With mother and daughter living under one roof everything was there to make for a situation where two cunts were bound to collide. From time to time he continued to question his daughter to see how matters stood between her and Tania.
So far everything had stayed cool between them, but he'd not at all been pleased to learn several weeks ago that Melanie had begun wearing her mother's cast-off panties. This to him had signalled the first of Tania's moves to win her daughter's pussy; and this had also been one of the major reasons he'd decided to provide Melanie with another daddy to fuck. He didn't like to see his little girl turn into a lezzie at thirteen. A different cock would give her new fuck thrills which might stave off the attractions of Tania's cunt.
"Well, what do you think?" Melania sputtered as the water ran down her face. Baxter opened his eyes. While thinking of Tania he'd continued to fondle Melanie's boobies, pretending that they were giant melons of flesh, imagining that his daughter was a little girl with big tits. Her voice roused him from his thoughts. He noticed his prick was still lying flush in the crack of her buttocks. "Think of what?" he asked innocently.
Melanie twirled on her feet. She held his cock and faced him impatiently. "Daddy, you weren't listening! The 'jack-off-by-telephone' number! Remember?"
Baxter initially had trouble sorting this information from a number of similar propositions they'd discussed recently. There were so many titillating ads in the Barbarian which they constantly talked about. Then it came back to him -the 'jack-off-by-telephone' ad!- He remembered now: it had asked readers to send a five-dollar money order to a certain post office box for a ten-minute fuck by phone. "Yes," he nodded. "Sure, I remember. We talked about it at great length."
"Yeah, we talked about it all right. But this time I did something about it. I wrote away for the number and I received it this morning."
Baxter patted her rump. "Good girl. I'm sorry I didn't get aroused to it as I'd promised. We were in the midstfof wrapp y up a big case last week involving a good deal of money. I just didn't have the time."
"You don't have to apologize, Dad." She gave him a sassy look. "I know you're very busy." She then explained how the "jack-off" deal worked; early last week she'd sent a five-dollar money order to the given address and had received in return a registration number along with instructions to give this number to someone named Fifi when she made the call. "You know," she added, "it's possible to get a six month subscription at one call a week for twenty dollars. Do you think we should take one out?"
"Let's not spend our money foolishly," Baxter warned. "Let's first see if it's any good. We'll finish up here in the shower and make the call from bed." He stepped out from under the splash of water and dried himself quickly. He tried not to show it but he was pleased with Melanie's little surprise. Listening to a horny couple fuck over the telephone was just the kind of thing that made for a whole new fuck game. He handed Melanie the towel and gave her a little smile to indicate that he was ready for another good roll after listening to some filthy fuck talk on the phone.
In the doorway to the bathroom he paused and aimed his ramrod pecker at her. She was passing the towel under her crotch to wipe her wet pussy and looked at him with thrust-out belly. Baxter was still aiming his pecker straight at her. He began moving it slowly in a wide arc while his mouth exploded with stutters. "Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tata-ta-ta-ta! Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!"
"OOOOH, BABY, LEE! YOU SHU-SHU-SHU ... OOOOOH! YOU SURE YOU CAN GET ALL OF IT IN MY ASSHOLE! OOOOH! LET ME LICK IT FIRST!!! M-m-m-m-m- ... OOOH! NO! WIAT!!! DON'T PUT IT IN MY ASS YET! LE'ME, PLEASE! LE'ME RUB IT AGAINST MY SLIT! OOOOOOH! LEE-EE-EE-EE-EE-ee! EE-EE-EE!"
"Oooooh! Oooooh!" Baxter put his lips to the mouthpiece of the telephome while terrifying screams of fuck rage assaulted the ear he held to the receiver. "Oooh! Ooooh!" he moaned again at the slurping sounds coming over the wire. "Oooooh! Oooooh!" He began humping his ass uncontrollably on the edge of the bed. Melanie bounced along with him, her ear glued to the receiver. She was seated in his lap, connected cunt to cock; her legs were wrapped around his waist and she faced him frontwise, her boobies rubbing against his nary chest. She was holding the telephone between their ears while Baxter moaned, "Oooooh! Oooooh!" Her heel bore into the small of his back. "Shush, Dad! Listen!"
"LEE-EE-EE-EE! NOW! LEE! DO IT TO ME NOW!!! ARRRGGGGGH! OOOOOH! LEE! BITE IT! SUCK IT! HARDER! HARDER!!! LEE-OOOH-EE-LEE-EEEH!"
Baxter stopped wriggling his pecker into the clamp of pussy enfolding it. But Melanie continued to squirm as the screams in the telephone reached a frantic pitch. Baxter whispered, "What's he doing to her?" He looked at his daughter mystified. "I don't understand," he said again.
"For crissake, Dad! Listen! Shut up!" Melanie returned her ear to the receiver, plunking down hard on the impaling pecker. Baxter continued to listen, but he was still puzzled. It all sounded so screwy-not phony but screwy. After dialing the number, Melanie had asked for Fifi which was followed by a long pause filled with small slobbering and squealing noises and finally Fifi's return to the phone to ask them to wait on the line. Fifi's voice had sounded agitated, choked up, out of breath. Shortly afterward, while still waiting, the heavy sex talk had started- clear and lifelike to the point where Baxter felt he was not listening to a recording, as he'd expected, but to a real knockdown, drag-out fuck match involving Fifi and Lee.
"Are you sure this is the call we paid for?" This time Melanie didn't even acknowledge his question. Her breath was coming quick and wheezy. Each time she heard Fifi scream she swallowed hard: Lee was licking Fifi's pussy. Melanie could hear his big cock slap against her flesh. She tried to imagine Fifi's position under Lee's tongue. Were they doing sixty-nine? Or was Lee just eating into her cunt some other way? Finally she told her father, "Does it matter whether this is the call we paid for or not?" She scuffed her rump over his groin and quickly returned her ear to the receiver. She knew about voyeurs-people who liked to watch other people fuck. Once or twice a week she herself indulged in it by spying on her mother tongue screwing Rosemary, her lesbian girl friend of many years. But what about people who liked to listen to other people fuck? What were they ealled? She bit her lips at the indelicate mouth-ings coming from the other end of their connection.
Fifi was howling at the top of her voice. "OOOOH! I'LL HOLD IT OPEN FOR YOU!
KISS IT! FRENCH IT! OOOOH! BABY! LEE! THAT'S IT! DON'T STOP! HOLY SHIT! GODA'MIGHTY! OOOOOH! YOU'RE GONNA HAVE ME SQUIRTING SOON! OOOH! ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH! LEE-EE-EE-EE-EEEE-EE-EE!!! OOOOOHHHH!"
A series of violent slurping noises raged in the receiver. It was giving Baxter the crawlies in his nuts. Whoever Lee was and whatever he was doing to Fifi convinced him of one thing: Lee was doing a bang-up job! He wished he were there to join the party. Melanie appeared to be equally impressed. He felt her cunt grow hot around his dick.
They kept still for a moment, frozen cunt-to-cock and ear-to-ear, the telephone receiver between them. Melanie whispered, "I think he's going in the backdoor. Listen." In her excitement she reached behind her with one groping hand, arching it under her rump for Daddy's balls. She found them beneath the root of the joint rimming her twat-two fleshy eggs squashed flat on the mattress. She fingered them intently, squirming her buttocks in his groin and squealing when she felt his big dong stab deep into her little girl's womb. "Listen," she whispered, "Listen. Just listen to them. Fifi's screaming holy murder." She paused, then added, "Do you think we should call the police?"
"LEE-EE-EEEEEEEH! MY GOD! IT'S TEARING MY ASS APART! PLEASE! LEE!
LEE-EEEEH! OUCH! OOOOOHHH! FOR GOD'S SAKE! TAKE IT EASY! LEE!!! IT'S KILLING MY ASS! LAY OFF! PLEASE! OOOH! LEE-EE-EE-EE-EEEEH! PLEASE! OOOOOOOOH!"
Fifi's screams were suddenly cut short by the noise of a violent scuffle. It sounded as if a pack of fuck-hungry elephants had broken loose. Fifi's wailing choked off on the note of a little rattle in her throat. It was giving Melanie goose bumps. Baxter held his breath; for the first time he was able to hear clearly the brutal grunts of Fifi's anal assailant.
"Okay, okay ... BITCH!!! YOU MOTHER-FUCK! PRICKTEASE! CUNT! Okay, okay ... NOW, HOLD STILL, GODDAMIT! STILL, I SAID!"
Baxter felt Melanie's flushed cheek against his as both listened to Lee's efforts to enter Fifi's asshole. The telephone gave the act a sense of immediacy that made them feel as if they were actually witnessing the whole affair. Suddenly they heard a terrifying scream that made their ears ring. Fifi's asshole tore, a quick rip of flesh which over the telephone sounded dry as the crack of a rifle shot. Melanie jerked her head away from the receiver. Baxter watched his dong flip like a spring from her twat. The receiver fell from his ear onto the bed from where it continued to emit in dimished volume the clash of Lee's cock with Fifi's resisting sphincter. Melanie clapped a hand to her mouth, "Dad! He's got a gun! He's shooting her! Listen!"
Again the receiver exploded with the rage of Lee's voice. Even though their ears were no longer glued to it they heard him distinctly.
"KEEP YOUR ASS STILL! OOMPH! OOMPH! DAMN IT! OOMPH! JUST A WEE INCH MORE! OOMPH! STILL, I SAID! HOLD IT! OOMPH! IT'S IN!!! OOMPH! I GOT IT! IT'S IN! IN SOLID! OOMPH! DON'T SQUEEZE! IT'S LIKE STICKING IT IN A BUCKET OF SHIT! OOMPH! THAT'S IT! KEEP STILL! OOMPH! ROLL YOUR ASS SLOWLY! BEAUTIFUL. Beautiful. That's beautiful. DON'T JERK!"
The gradual mellowing of Lee's voice from rage to gruff satisfaction finally convinced Melanie that the racket she mistook for gunplay was no more than the normal sounds accompanying anal penetration. She remembered how much it'd hurt earlier when her dad for the first time managed to stick the knob of his pecker in her own anus and she sympathized with Fifi, though she also envied her. A tiny trill of pleasure came to knot in her own asshole when she considered the satisfaction that would be hers if only she were able to accommodate her dad similarly. She didn't count his bum-fucking her earlier as a successful attempt. Although he'd shot his wad all over her ass, he'd been unable to get his dong in to any depth.
Before that they'd tried it the anal way a number of times, but at each occasion the rim of her sphincter had proven too small. And although Baxter had tried everything to make it more elastic-from the use of olive oil and axle grease to baby shampoo and shaving foam- none of it had done any good beyond making the aperture of her anus more slippery so that his cock kept sliding from her buttocks without ever getting a firm grip on the rim. After each such fruitless attempt, she'd felt inadequate and disappointed. She itched for a stiff dick up her rectum and hoped that a new daddy with a thinner cock would be able to fulfill her desire.
Melanie was well aware of the eagerness with which her father lusted after her little asshole, especially after her pussy began losing its erstwhile tightness. He liked pussy that felt like the neck of a bottle. It was the sole reason for his interest in little girls. And if he couldn't have a tight pussy, then he wanted tight asshole as the next best thing. It had always saddened Melanie to realize that she could grant him neither of these two desires-her pussy had gotten bigger over the years and her asshole was still too narrow to enter. Perhaps he'd be able to gain satisfaction from another little girl.
She felt the nudge of his elbow and heard his voice from the pile of cushions on which he'd propped his head. "Lee's playing with her pussy while fucking her in the ass. Can you hear it? I used to do it that way all the time with your mom. Listen." She allowed herself to be pulled down beside him on the bed. The long telephone wire was slung back along the bed post behind them and the receiver was now back at his ear on the pillows. She stretched out and put her own ear to it. Faintly, as from a great distance, Fifi's voice could be heard wailing under the onslaught of cock and finger in the twin orifices of her crotch. Lee was putting it to her, all right. She listened to the squishy noises his finger made in her cunt flesh and the dry cracking sounds of his prick ramming into her anus. The finger job on Fifi's twat got soppier and soppier and at last sounded like the gurgle of a draining bath tub.
All at once Fifi's moans of pain subsided and gave way to a sustained drone of pleasure- "M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m! M-m-m-m! Ahhhhh! M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m!"
Suddenly it dawned on Melanie that her father had been right in his initial surmise: This was the real thing! This was no recording! No way! Or if it were it must have been taped during an actual event. The way Fifi and Lee were going at each other couldn't have been staged for the listener's benefit. Maybe that's how they got their kicks. Perhaps they liked the idea of having strangers listen to the fuck sounds they made in bed. People used all kinds of stimulants to revitalize their sex life and maybe the "phone fuck" was theirs.
Melanie turned lier head to tell her father her thoughts, but the question drained from her lips when she saw how busy he was. When his eyes caught hers, a strained smile broke on his face. Both his hands were gripped around the shaft of his cock and jiggering it violently. And when he spoke the effort made him pant, "Jack-off-by-telephone,' right? Isn't that what the ad said? Join the party."
Melanie had already buried her finger in her pussy. Only now, at the actual touch of it, did she realize how hot her bun was. She shot her legs out wide and continued to hammer her fingers on the exposed sliver of clit. At the same time, she watched Baxter jerk his stiff pecker. He held it ringed with one hand while the other grappled for support on the bed sheets. The telephone receiver lay on the pillow between them and their panting wheezes mixed with the drone of fuck pleasure coming from the other end of the line.
Melanie was starting to feel the first mastur-batory tingles in her twat. Ordinarily she wasn't too crazy about diddling herself, but the sputtering telephone beside her made it better than it had ever been before. She was actually enjoying the sopping touch of her fingers in the cunt flesh, the vibrating heat of her little clit. Out of the corner of one eye she watched the grimaces of agonized abandon on her father's face. His hands were now pumping his shaft like a piston. Then his legs went stiff, his groin arched, and his big prick burst, flinging the sap all over himself and the bed. One big gob of jism landed right on her lip and she swallowed it hungrily. Another gob landed on the mouthpiece of the telephone. Spreading her legs wider she exposed the full-slitted gash of her twat to her own eager fingers, her thumb buzzed the clit as it emerged from the unfolding labia.
Although weekdays she was in the habit of masturbating at least three times a day-in the morning before getting up, in the evening before going to sleep and once or twice in class during school hours-it had never been quite as thrilling as this with her father's jism flying in the air, the receiver loud with Fifi's moans of climax and her own hand grappling her pussy like the paw of a clawing tigress. She moaned out loud, exulting at the fuck stir in her heated groin. She moaned again. Her legs flung in the air and she tossed her head. The itch in her cunt rose to its crest.
From the receiver at her ear she heard Lee give out with a terrific grunt of satisfaction; this was followed immediately by Fifi's howls of ecstasy when the load of his come triggered off in her asshole. "Christ A'mighty! Lee, honey. I can feel it right up my ass! Oh, baby, Lee ... Lee ... Lee ... That was so nice. Oooh! Oooh!"
Melanie heard her father's voice close to her ear, "That Lee's something else! Now he's fucking her straight in the cunt. Can you hear it?"
He held the receiver close to her temple and she was able to hear the fitful snatches of two groins grinding away at each other. Then he took the telephone away altogether, but before Melanie had time to wonder why he'd removed it, she felt the clammy receiver prod the fingers in her pussy Quickly she strained her head forward, then let it fall back on the pillows. She'd confirmed by sight what her pussy already knew: Baxter was shoving the receiver up her snatch and bringing her to a pounding, mind-binding climax. Her clit felt red-hot and her body shook with the tremors of her abandon. She saw the soft molds of her boobs jiggle uncontrollably and heard herself shriek with fuck tension. A series of similar shrieks, fainter but nonetheless piercing, seemed to echo her own, answering them from the vicinity of her cunt. She caught another glimpse of her dad bent over her crotch, diddling her clit with the receiver from which emerged the howls of Fifi's furious orgasm.
Melanie stiffened, locking the receiver between her thighs. Her pussy felt as if it were about to crack wide open. Suddenly she tossed herself over onto her stomach, away from her father's hands, though keeping the telephone clamped to her twat. With her rump twitching convulsively, she humped the receiver between her thighs, bouncing up and down harder and harder at the increasing urge of cunt tinglings. Each time her ass lunged upward, it freed the sounds of Fifi's moans in the receiver ... moans which strangely resembled her own as she felt the hot burst of release break in her snatch. With a final heaving bump of her groin, she brought her cunt down hard on the receiver. "I'm coming!" she yelped. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" She writhed and shrieked, tossed and yelped, wondering at the same time whether it was her own voice signaling her abandon to the rage in her twat or whether it was Fifi's raised to a similar pitch of pleasure at the other end of the line.
The next day was Saturday and Melanie awoke early. Baxter was still snoring, lying nude on the sheets, his pecker curled up like a fat rainworm. She noticed the telephone receiver was off the hook on the floor. It still showed the stains of her cunt juice. She reached over and picked it up, wiping it clean on the bed sheets, then put it back on the hook and got out of bed.
Her body felt pleasantly cool. She'd been hot as an oven when she fell asleep the night before with the receiver stuck in her snatch and the moans of a strange woman ringing in her ears. She remembered vaguely her father wiping her bun and drawing the sheets to her chin. She'd slept like a log and now she felt refreshed, ready for another day of hot fuck games.
But first things first. Hastily she got into a light summer dress selected from the closetful she kept at her dad's home and picked a pair of open shoes with platform heels to make her appear taller than her five feet one.
She went to the desk and examined the envelope addressed to the post office box number given in the ad. She opened the drawer and rummaged for a ten-cent stamp and the key to open the front door with after she returned from mailing the letter. And just to make sure, she once more checked the address on the envelope with that in the ad. "Noobile ... noobile ... noobile," she sang to herself, skipping out of the room into the hall, holding the letter in her hand.
When she returned a half hour later, her father was standing naked by the kitchen window, lathed in sunlight. He looked like a beach boy, bronzed and relaxed.- The night's rest had ob-viously done him well. During her absence he'd risen from bed, showered and shaved. He'd just finished building a giant sourdough sandwich when he heard Melanie enter the kitchen. A picnic hamper stood on the table by his side. He pointed to it and mentioned cheerily that they would spend the day on the beach near Monterey, hence the hamper and the sandwiches. Then be picked up the jumbo sandwich he'd just made and waved it at her. "How would you like to set jour teeth in this?"
At the same time his prick waggled at the Motion of his arm and caused Melanie to return lis question with a blank stare. "Which do you Mean?" she asked, pointing first at his pecker, then at the sandwich.
Baxter laughed and looked down at the limp member dangling from his crotch. "Whichever you prefer," he said smilingly, placing the sandwich next to his dong. "You can have both if you like, though."
Their Saturday mornings were usually spent in the rounds of a fixed routine-a compromise on Baxter's part with the necessity of presenting to his friends and colleagues the appearance of an attentive father who, though divorced, continued to exercise the responsibilities of a devoted family man. In the field of law it was important to keep up a front of unsullied respectability. To Baxter it was simply good business to "show the flag," as he called it, by taking his daughter with him to meet his friends. His show of dutiful behavior towards Melanie was expected of a man in his position along with other tokens of civic-mindedness such as his membership in various social and charitable organizations.
Among his friends he was praised as a considerate father who, despite a failed marriage, was doing the right and proper thing. Yet, when Baxter was not present-usually after they'd had a few drinks-these same friends who praised his moral rectitude would brag to one another about all the things they would do to Melanie's pert little rump if they were to find themselves in Baxter's shoes.
The Saturday morning routine Baxter and Melanie normally followed involved breakfast at the Marina on Fisherman's Wharf and a
Bloody Mary at a table at the Boating ^Club next door where Melanie sipped Coke through a straw and listened to the grown-ups talk. Afterward, they were sometimes accompanied to a ball game at Candlestick Park by Baxter's law partner Stan Murphy and his wife, a big-titted dyke who'd once been shocked to observe that Melanie wore no panties, a condition she attributed to the harebrained minds of most young girls and not to a willful desire to expose herself, which Baxter knew it was and for which he'd given her hell later.
If they didn't go to the ball game they would spend the day alone together, doing whatever inspired them at the moment-a visit to the Botanical Gardens or the zoo in Golden Gate Park, a drive in the country or a GP-rated film in town, a stroll through Chinatown and a meal at an expensive Chinese restaurant where Baxter knew the head waiter, a visit to an art gallery or to one of Baxter's colleagues who had a boat and frequently took them sailing in the bay.
But most of all they spent Saturday afternoon and evening in bed, playing hot fuck games of blind man's buff, tag, hide-and-seek, and doctor; for the latter role Baxter would put on a white lab coat and a stethoscope which he'd brobe into her pussy, pretending to take her "cunt beat."
It was a rare day that they went for an outing on the beach. Melanie considered such excursions a treat. The last time they'd gone he'd stripped off her bikini bottom under water and licked her pussy. When she heard that they were going she'd clapped her hands, but she had one question. "Do we have to see your horrible friends first?"
Baxter shook his head. "It's gonna be just the two of us today. Let's make the most of it. You may have another daddy next week and I may have another little girl." Quickly he added, "Temporarily, of course." He took a few steps forward, holding his pecker as he walked, until he stood before her. He reached into the neckline of her dress and pushed up one egg-shaped mold of boob. His lips dabbed a quick kiss on the lovely pink areola. "Don't worry," he said. "Though there may be others from time to time, you can be sure of one thing." He paused and fondled her boobies. "You'll always be my little girl. We can still make it together whenever we want to. I'm still your daddy and always will be no matter how many other daddies you may play with."
When Melanie heard that they would not be spending the morning making the usual rounds meeting the same boring people she clapped her hands again. "Goodie!" she cried. "Goodie!" she cried. "Goodie! Goodie! I don't like them at all. They're always trying to pinch me and look up my dress."
It had been a marvelous weekend, the kind of time every father dreams of spending with his little girl. But there had also been a note of sadness in the feverish pitch of the fuck games they'd played untiringly, with hardly any letup, all day Saturday and all day Sunday until it was time for Melanie to get on the bus back to her mother's home in Berkeley. To Melanie the sadness had been present as a reminder that soon her father might be playing these same games with another little girl; that soon-perhaps as early as the next weekend-she might be fucking another daddy. For this reason she'd been unable to leave his cock alone, continually sucking, blowing, and needling it to erection with games of stimulation that were as imaginative as they were successful.
On Saturday morning, before leaving for Monterey, they'd breakfasted off each other's genitals-Baxter with three donuts around his cock and Melanie's cunt smeared with butter and marmalade; he'd scooped a soft-boiled egg with a spoon out of her slit and she'd gobbled strips of Virginia ham off the length of his dick; he'd eaten another soft egg out of her asshole and dipped both her titties in heavy cream, licked them off and subsequently dried them with a rough towel. They'd finished their meal by going down on each other; for Baxter it'd been a honey of a sixty-nine and it'd been likewise for Melanie-her father's jism had never tasted better.
During the drive to Monterey he'd driven with his cock hanging out of his pants. Melanie had blown him once more by lying down on the seat and burying her head in his open fly. At a stoplight near Santa Cruz he'd come, splattering his load all over the windshield. They'd stopped off at an isolated patch of beach which they knew from previous visits. In a rocky cave where the surf rolled right up to the entrance, they'd enjoyed a cool invigorating screw and when Melanie came her squeals of pleasure were drowned out by a large wave crashing over her bare, humping ass. Afterward, she'd let herself be tied to a tree behind the beach while Baxter sucked her off and she'd watched, unable to move, and screaming in a mixture of pleasure and pain when he'd tormented her by prodding a sharp stick up her tiny ass. She'd then done the same thing to him, securing him tightly to the tree with belt and chain and letting a handful of caterpillars loose over his hard cock before sucking it off.
They'd spent the night in a motel at Big Sur. After the rough stuff of the afternoon, Baxter had been uncommonly tender. They'd nicked in a number of different positions but when he'd once again tried to ram his prick up her dirt track the effort again had been unsuccessful. The next morning he'd been forced to find a drugstore to get some talcum powder for her sorely battered anus. They'd gone swimming at noon. Not many bathers had been present and the few who were had been unaware of the fact that Melanie was floating on top of her father with her twat impaled on his dick. Just when they spurted their sap, a huge wave had picked them up and cast them ashore where both had lain in the surf bare-assed and gratified. Then they'd lunched and driven back to San Francisco.
"Ill let you know first thing when I receive a reply," Baxter told her in reference to the ad amidst the clatter of bustling travelers at the bus station where he was putting her on the bus for Berkeley.
Melanie had smiled and bumped her groin against his in the crowd of people on the platform. Before jumping on the steps of the waiting bus, she'd given his cock a furtive squeeze, reaching up on tip-toe and whispering with her lips to his ear, "I'd like another daddy just like you."
CHAPTER THREE
"Of course, Mr. Ross. Of course, it will be in the strictest confidence. Everything goes, so to speak, but only in strictest confidence. This is not an answering service. Anyone asking a lot of questions will be given the bum's rush. Ha-ha-ha."
Baxter chuckled in return and leaned back in the swivel-seat desk chair, cradling the telephone between neck and shoulder. Before him on the blotter lay a glossy catalogue bearing neither text nor title. Its sole contents consisted of half-page color photographs showing nude and for the most part burly middle-aged men in a rather wooden pose with their daughters who were equally nude but young and tender-titted, though some had the large knockers which Baxter was so fond of. A few were regular flirty-dirty teenyfuckers who posed with snatches provocatively spread; several had their mouths wrapped around their father's tools and one little hell-raising dick-sucker was shown reaming her dad's asshole simultaneously with an imitation penis. Apart from a small printed serial number, no other particulars accompanied the photographs.
The catalogue had arrived in the mail that morning, exactly four days after his reply to the ad in the Barbarian. Enclosed with it was a brief letter explaining the use of the catalogue (which Baxter could keep without obligation) and the nature of the swap club which he was invited to join at a cost of fifty dollars a year (for administrative charges). In the event of his interest in joining the club, he was asked to call a Mr. Leroy James at a certain telephone number in the city. Again no further particulars were given and when Baxter called the number shortly after his arrival at the office it was Mr. James himself who answered the phone.
If at first Baxter had entertained doubts about the seriousness of the ad, they were immediately dispelled by the tone of Mr. James' voice. It had reassured him at once. The smooth cultured tones with which Mr. James addressed him had come as a surprise. After the exchange of a few words, it became clear that Mr. James was no fly-by-night fuck freak, as Baxter had vaguely suspected, but a man very much at home with the idiom of courteous, businesslike conversation. The subject of their discussion was never mentioned by name and couched only in the broadest acceptable terms.
"As I said before, everything will be handled in the strictest confidence." The voice of Mr. James returned with the same smooth neutrality of tone. "We've been in operation for nearly six months now. And extremely successful, I should add. The only reason for placing an ad in the Barbarian was simply because the majority of members wished to expand the group for greater variety." Baxter murmured his approval and continued to question the stranger. He assumed the lawyer's sharpness of voice, "You understand my position. I'm quite respected in my field and wish to be wholly satisfied that membership in your organization will not in any way either reflect on my name or that of my daughter."
AKone point Mr. James tut-tutted Baxter's reservations. "I should say, Mr. Ross, that most of our members are upper-income and professional men. Naturally they are quite satisfied with the discretion employed. They would have never joined if absolute privacy were not assured. But I'm glad you're asking these questions. That always clears the air, so to speak. As far as I am concerned, there'll be no need for a meeting between us. I make it a rule to keep very much in the background. All meetings of interested parties are arranged by me through the use of the telephone. You select the number of the photograph in the catalogue which appeals to you and if the couple in question is free and agreeable to meet with you, I'll forward the meeting place, date and time to you both. In other words, it's a very simple straightforward procedure. I convey the object of your wish to the couple in question and if all works out well you'll be notified by telephone."
Baxter had one final question before he accepted the membership offer. Fifty dollars was a worthwhile investment if only to satisfy his curiosity. "Where do these meetings usually take place?" he asked. "And is it possible to remain anonymous?"
"I'm glad you asked. I was just coming to that," Mr. James continued unruffled. "The meetings are normally arranged in adjoining motel rooms. Both parties will be registered under different names which I will forward to you. All other particulars are kept carefully anonymous. Of course, nothing prevents you from telling whatever you wish to the parent of the counterpart girl. Quite a few warm friendships have come out of meetings between two or more parties. But, as I said before, we leave this to your own discretion. Once the meeting is arranged you are on your own. Some relationships among members last longer than others. Most members, though, don't stay too long with one couple. After all, variety is the spice of life. I'm sure you'll agree."
Baxter indicated that he would consult that very evening with his daughter concerning their choice of "counterparts," as Mr. James described the fuck mates in the catalogue. He promised Baxter that the next catalogue, due out in three weeks, would include the picture that had been sent along with his inquiry. He further informed Baxter that their first meeting with a "counterpart" couple could be arranged for as early as the coming weekend, provided the membership fee were sent today and that Baxter would tell him by tomorrow evening at the latest of his choice. Baxter promised to write a check immediately and agreed to call him again the next day at eleven a m.
When he hung up, feeling pleased and excited, the public relations agent of a large shoe polish concern was ushered into his office. Hastily he swept the catalogue inside a private desk drawer and greeted the man warmly. Soon they were both huddled over his desk, discussing in detail the defense strategy to be used against a consumer's watchdog bureau which was suing the agent's firm for an alleged use of misleading advertising claims. Baxter didn't get around to calling Melanie until late in the afternoon. After the day's work, he felt himself bursting with excitement. He'd call his daughter and tell her to meet him at eight at a coffeeshop on Shattuck in Berkeley. Ordinarily it took a minor calamity for him to call her at home as he didn't want to give Tania grounds for suspicion. But this was a different kettle of cunt. He had to let Melanie know immediately so they could jointly examine the catalogue in the coffeeshop that evening and decide which couple they'd spend a fuck weekend with.
Baxter's finger trembled as it spun the telephone dial. Melanie would be pleased. He might even do something he hadn't done in all of the two years of his relationship with his daughter. He might take her for a ride and give her a weekday fuck in the car.
Melanie heard her mother shout through the open bathroom door in the hall. She'd just spoken with her dad and agreed to meet him at eight. She'd immediately guessed what his call was about and was glad that her mother had been busy running her bath. "Oh, it was just a friend from school," she lied loud enough for her mother to hear in the bathroom, "I'm supposed to meet her at eight. I forgot to tell you there's a dance tonight with a new rock band. I've already promised to go."
She heard her mother shout an incomprehensible answer in return. Up 'til then the faint sound of water running into the tub had been a steady drone coming from the hall into the living room. Then the tap was suddenly turned off and Melanie listened to the water slosh in the tub as her mom's large, full-assed body settled with a small cry of shock which rang shrilly through the house. "Ooo, Melanie! The water is hot!"
Melanie caught the undertone of pleading urgency in the voice reaching her from the bathroom. Her mom wanted her to share the bath. They'd bathed together the previous day and the day before that-the Sunday evening when it had all happened. It seemed so long ago now and it was with some sharpness that Melanie realized that this was only the third day of her carnal intimacy with her mother.
The scene of the evening when she'd first felt the stirrings of a strange new suck urge was engraved in her memory. She'd been frightened, curious, hesitant and bold all at once, torn between emotions she could not yet understand. One half of her pussy had constantly urged her forward, the other half had held her back-even after mom's tongue had long buried itself inside her silky slit. That first time she'd still been afraid to give herself fully. She'd come, all right, spastic with fuck shudders and her pussy running like a faucet, yet she'd been unable to remove the thought of her daddy's cock from her mind. She knew his irrational aversion to lesbians and it had bothered her. But the second time she came with her mom's face buried in her bush it had been such a nerve-tickling, mind-bending, thrill-happy orgasm that all thoughts of her dad burst like the bubbles of cunt juice springing in her twat. Her fears and apprehensions had melted away. She'd discovered she liked doing it that way with her mom.
It had all happened so quickly that Melanie found it difficult to picture to herself the events leading up to it. Three days ago-the Sunday evening she'd left her dad at the bus station- she'd arrived home to find her mother in a terrible state. Her hair was disheveled and hung down in matted strands from her head. Her eyes were puffed up, bloated with the evidence of a recent crying jag that looked as if it'd gone on all weekend. Tania looked a wreck, staring dazedly into the room while tears tracked down her cheeks. Melanie had rushed up to her, shouting, "What's the matter, Mom? Are you hurt?"
She'd let herself be grasped by her mother, feeling the heavy naked boobs press through the fabric of the short housecoat which was Tania's comfy evening dress. Melanie hadn't known what to do beyond speaking a few whispered words of smypathy. She'd sat down on the couch beside her mom and listened to her sob out the story. It hadn't been easy for Tania. Melanie had watched her mother seek awkwardly for words to describe her breakup with Rosemary. At last she'd heard her cry out desperately, 'I've got to tell someone. You understand, don't you? You're the only one who might. Please, dear, understand. Rosemary and I were like man and wife. Do you understand?"
Melanie had understood. Of course, she knew. And Tania knew she knew. So far her mom had been playing a little game which was to lead to something else. Melanie had not been left in the dark long. At first her mom had quietly cried on her shoulder. Melanie had observed her mother's firm nude legs and the deep cleavage of her tits beneath the short, crotch-length housecoat. After a while Tania had let her head slip down her daughter's chest, though she'd continued to sob fitfully even as she buried her face in Melanie's lap. Again Melanie had been at a loss for words. The sight of her mother lying curled up on the couch while her lap supported the stifled sobbings of her head had overwhelmed her. Gradually, as Tania continued to squirm for comfort, the short housecoat had twisted off her ass to expose the deep crack running between the cheeks.
Melanie had continued to sit there, unable to move or think, concentrating solely on the sight of her mom's big ass and the moist feeling of her sobs spreading through her lap-salty tears, hot and damp, which percolated through the thin fabric of her dress and panties to moisten her pussy. The idea of her mom's giant twat pulsing under her housecoat had fascinated her. She'd tried to lean over Tania's head to peek at the area of the crotch beneath the coat and had been rewarded with a tantalizing view-a few woolly tufts of coal-black pubic hair which stood up like a widow's peak from a small opening between two coat buttons. At the same time, as the coat rode higher over her mom's buttocks, she'd spotted a similar tuft of wool poking out from the underside edge of her slit where the crack of the ass joined the small strip of flesh dividing cunt from amis.
The electric sex tension in the room had not been lost on Melanie. She knew her mother was tempting her, that she'd forgotten all about Rosemary and had her mind set on something else. There was no question, as she felt her mom nuzzle into her snatch, what that "something else" was. But this knowledge hadn't disturbed her. She'd been strangely thrilled by the imminence of a new fuck adventure. If there were any titillation of the pussy then she wanted it. For over two years, her life had centered around sex. Doing it with her father had given an added flavor to the illicit nature of their relationship. Her sudden fixation on her mother's body made this flavor even spicier. It was the sparse tufts of pubic wool curling out from under her mother's buttocks which had mesmerized her, kept her spellbound to the point where she'd begun to feel an overpowering itch to touch them, to kiss them, to run her tongue over the big ass crack, to bury her face in the warm flesh of the big hole from which she'd emerged thirteen ears ago.
But she hadn't done anything of the sort-not until much later that evening after her mother had introduced her with the utmost patience and delicacy to the pleasures of pussy-rubbing, :". it-diddling, tongue-teasing and ass-fingering in a way she'd never experienced before. Pre-riously she'd known her mother's twat from the odd times she'd glimpsed it when she and Rosemary were carrying on in the bedroom late at night. Unfortunately, the key hole had been small and the room always dark so that Melanie had never seen it in its full fleshy glory as she'd done that night.
It had been strange at first to feel a moist spongy slit ride her groin, instead of a stiff-muscled dick. She'd shivered when she'd first felt the big jellied squid of her mom's cunt breathe with a series of palpitating fuck shudders. Then she'd succumbed. She'd been unable to resist. A cock was a cock, but a soaking mop of cunt was something different-something altogether gentler, something altogether subtler than the'brutal stabbings of a big dick, although that was nice too. But the touch of her mom's wet rag of snatch was still sweeter, more tender, especially when the big cunt clit rang like a clapper against her own after they'd landed naked on the floor. They'd locked in a tight embrace of suck lust. Melanie remembered that first moment. All hell had broken loose and they hadn't stopped until early the next morning.
Melanie heard her mother emerge from the bathroom, shouting from the hall as she made her way to the living room, "What time did you say you were going out?"
Melanie had been busy folding her clothes neatly in a small pile. She'd stripped to join Tania in the bath, but Tania had obviously not waited for her. Tania wanted a good cunt-hump before Melanie went out to meet her dad.
Melanie sighed. It was getting so complicated. She'd soon have to divide her time and pussy between her mom and dad. It would be frantic-frantic but exciting. She plopped herself down onto the couch and crossed her legs so that her pubic muff bunched in the fold of her crotch. Tania entered the living room, still drying herself with a rough towel. Melanie said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I promised to meet this friend at eight. I won't be long, though. No more than a couple of hours." Lying came easy, she noticed.
"That's all right, dear. I don't begrudge you your fun," Tania said, approaching the couch with boobs swinging and the towel dancing over her muff. "That's all right. When I was your age I loved to go out myself. It's on the weekends when you're with your dad that I'll miss you. Believe me, it's going to be awful." She sat down beside her daughter, crossing her legs the same way.
Only in the fullness of Tania's nude physique could the endowments of mother and daughter be properly measured. Next to the large swinging knockers of her mom, Melanie's own boobies resembled dainty custard cupcakes, still soft with baby fat. They were seated closely beside each other, four boobs in a row, their legs stretched out from the couch onto the surface of the coffee table in front of them. They never spoke much during these preliminary minutes of fuck tension; instead their silence reinforced the tension until it built up to a ravenous desire.
Suddenly Tania swung out one leg high over her daughter's head. Her crotch opened in the crack of her cunt-a fat pink clam covered with fuzz. Melanie felt the moist slit ride up against the flank of her hip as Tania scissored her leg into the back of her shoulders which she'd leaned slightly forward from the back of the couch. Without struggle she let her upper body be secured in the bay of her mother's thighs which locked her in, front and back. Again she shivered, just as she'd done the first time, when she felt the heavy snatch spread itself flat against the curve of her waist. She felt her own pussy shudder with heavenly fuck trills, "Oh, Mom," she moaned, watching Tania put both arms around her neck to draw her ever closer in the sideways lock of her thighs, "Your thing is still wet from the bath. It's wet and soft. Ooooooh."
With a convulsed groan Melanie twisted on her rump and flung her legs in a similar hold around her mother's waist, embracing her at the same time. As both drew their legs more firmly around each other's hips, they ended up seated face to face. Melanie, drawn tight by her mother's arms, looked down at the way their upper bodies had fused. She began to squirm and Tania did likewise. Thus they rubbed against each other, boob to boob and cunt to cunt, their legs wrapped tight around each other's waist. With each jerk of her chest Tania's big knockers brushed the cupcakes of her daughter's. But most pleasurable of all was the manner in which her large juicy cunt ground against Melanie's little bun. At times, when they forcefully held their groins pressed together or simply slapped belly to belly, Melanie could feel her mother's gash like a squid jamming up against the slimy oyster between her own legs.
"Woweeeeee!" she'd scream again and again. "Woweeeeee!" Melanie hooked her feet tightly above her mother's rump while her hands traveled down to feel the round expanse of buttocks. She shuddered. Tania pulled up a fleshy orb of tit and tried stuffing it in her daughter's mouth. Melanie's eyes glazed over at the wondrous sensation of fuck friction generated by the motion of her mother's twat bumping, rubbing and grinding against hers. "Woweeeeee!" she squealed.
A moment later they were back on the floor. The spot occupied by their naked bodies still bore the faint imprint of their previous cunt-sucking matches in the same place. Tania had landed on top of Melanie. The size of her statuesque body alone could have easily squashed her daughter, but she kept her body raised on hands and knees. Melanie clasped with both hands the roundness of the heavy, purple-tipped boobs hanging over her head. She arched her head forward and licked them eagerly. At the same time she crooked one knee until it touched her mother's cunt.
Tania peeked down the valley of her tits and watched Melanie's lips curl over one hard rubbery nipple. She felt like a great big-titted beast huddled over its prey of sex. Melanie lay curled beneath her, grunting with delight. It made Tania happy to see how rapidly her girl was taking to the novel thrill of pussy-rubbing. On the second day of their intimacy she'd asked her if she'd ever fucked properly with a man and had shown disbelief when Melanie told her she'd only done it twice with a sixteen-year-old boy. From the way she squirmed her little ass Tania knew this to be an outright lie. Melanie's bun had finally confirmed Tania's belief. She'd stuck four fingers up the tract and knew at once that Melanie had been lying. The size of her hole couldn't have been the work of a young kid's undergrown pecker. But Tania had not mentioned it. Girls, especially young girls, were chary of letting out private sex secrets. For the moment Tania had been satisfied to let-Melanie take her own time in telling about the secrets of her pussy. For the moment she was satisfied to simply lick it and take its hot, squirming response at face value. There would be plenty of time for Melanie to tell her everything she wanted to know.
"Oh, Mom," Melanie sputtered suddenly, "Mom, you're so heavy. Ease off just a little." Tania raised her ass to let her daughter roll out from under her. The delicious touch of Melanie's knee vanished from the vicinity of her snatch. It'd felt so nice there. Tania groaned. She could take all of Melanie's foot and ram it up her hole. The second time they'd made it together three nights ago, she'd held Melanie's foot and slowly rubbed it over her slit. She remembered how good it'd been. Melanie's big toe had buzzed her thick clit. "Oh, dear," Tania spoke dreamily, "Will you do it with your foot like the last time?"
Melanie's mouth was glued to her mother's heavy tits. She leaned forward from her haunches which she spread open when she felt Tania's finger probe for the hole between her thighs. Melanie couldn't get enough tit in her mouth. They faced each other from their squatting position on the floor, Melanie's bun impaled on Tania's finger and her lips clamped around the creamy firm-nippled tit. They sucked and groaned and diddled with their boobs slapping against each other and their fingers jigger-ing each other's clit in the open spread of their squatting haunches. Tania was in a trance of well-being. Doing it with her daughter lent a furtive, novel thrill to her actions. Melanie's fingers were stirring inside the deep pouch of her cunt. She listened to the sopping sounds and felt Melanie's mouth detach from the swollen orbs of her chest.
"I'll do it with my foot on you if you promise me one thing," Melanie said. Her mind raced back to the single most heavenly charge of her whole incestuous-lesbian experience-early that morning when she'd awakened to a subtle divine stir in her cunt. It had felt like a miniature cock stabbing the sensitive flesh of her bun in all the right places. Only after she'd come and opened her eyes had she noticed the cause of her juicy climax. "Will you stick your nipple in my thing like you did this morning?" Melanie asked.
Tania nodded eagerly. She knew exactly what it was her little girl wanted. She directed Melanie to lie down flat on her back. When her little bun popped forth between the spread thighs, Tania kissed it at once, bending over it with her boobs swinging and her own woolly muff riding low over Melanie's trembling titties. While lowering herself farther, Tania continued to rub the thick pubic tufts over the small flushed nipples beneath her. Melanie went stiff with tension. The large squid of cunt had come to rest on one of her boobies. Above the slit of snatch towered her mom's beautiful white ass. Then her snatch folded over her tittie. At the same time Melanie experienced a quick jolt of cunt static which made her toss her head and groan out loud. Tania was introducing part of her underside lobe of tit into her little oyster. Melanie felt the hard nipple prong the cunt hole, stabbing it with the measured guidance of Tania's finger as it spread the delicate petals of cunt. She looked up in wonder at the way her mom sat doubled over her, the wide mop of cunt grinding her boobies and one big nippled tit jazzing her bun.
Up until her mom's snatch settled onto her titties, Melanie had never realized how sensitive she was there. Her father had stroked it similarly, using both his dick and tongue but never with quite the same effect. Only her mom knew how to get the blood pulsing in her round nip-pled plums. Melanie grabbed the cheeks of both buttocks seated on her chest and craned her head forward to observe the fat slitted twat brush over her boobies. Tania's cunt worked like a vacuum cleaner sucking up first one quivering breast, then the other. On either side of her, she observed the rise of her mom's massive thighs and her knees planted on the floor. They kept her locked in from both sides as well as from above where Tania's upper body pressed down convulsively onto her stomach each time she wriggled under the onslaught on her twat and titties.
Tania had momentarily forgotten about the fiery cravings of her own snatch. Melanie's hard small nipples jazzed the edges of her slit as it moved over them and occasionally they would entangle her erect penislike clit. Then Tania would shudder and apply herself with renewed energy to the nipple-diddling of Melanie's clit. She had one large breast stuffed up to the edge of the pink saucer into her daughter's bun. This required her to maintain her body hard on Melanie's beneath her while working the stiff nipple between the flushed petals of the twitching pussy of her daughter's. Except for her head and shoulders projecting on one side and her legs on the other, the middle section of Melanie's body lay completely engulfed by Tania's broad-beamed ass and backside. Tania absorbed the fuck shudders rising from under her as if they were her own. There was nothing like bringing a little girl to the outer limits of a raging fuck frenzy.
Melanie continued to lie still, a passive instrument of her mother's lust. She felt the jangle of her clit as it engorged to the bursting point. She wondered how her mom did it, how she managed to work the nipple so strongly against her little rosebud. Even her dad's tongue couldn't quite get the same rise out of it. At the same time she felt a similar current of exhilaration burst in her boobies where the moistness dribbling from Tania's snatch made her feel wet and warm all over. Unconsciously she'd drawn Tania's buttocks apart so that when she next opened her eyes she found herself staring straight into her mom's anal opening. She tried to raise her legs but found this impossible to do. The swollen tit in her crotch held her impaled on its nipple which her mother continued to rotate with the fingers of one hand. Melanie grunted, then gave out with a sustained squeal. Her mom's tit filled her bun to the limit. She could no longer contain herself and went into the first delicious roll of her imminent release.
When Melanie began to hump her groin Tania knew just what to do. She'd nipple-fucked enough cunts to know how to tame them to her will. Up till then she'd kept her head bent low between her daughter's thighs while using all her concentration on keeping part of her tit stuffed in the pink gash beneath her. The grind-ings of her twat over the two girlish boobies came automatic-a regular fuck rhythm which she paced carefully so as not to squash her daughter's chest by the weight of her ass. But when she felt Melanie clutch her ass and heave and roll, she detached her big creamy lobe at once from the frothing slit and flung her mouth down on it. The taste of cunt juice sprang fullblown in her throat. Melanie climaxed like a puppy at play, her whole body heaving this way and that, her legs kicking and her head tossing from side to side. Tania darted her tongue deep into the pulpy cunt flesh and applied the final attack on the tingling clit. She felt Melanie's body tingle with sex static until the heavy breathing coming from behind her ass broke abruptly. Melanie's naked body crumpled beneath hers.
A moment later Tania had whipped her ass off her daughter. She shoved the coffee table out of the way and flung herself backward with her feet at the base of the couch, her knees drawn up flush against the edge of the seat. She called out to Melanie, twisting her head sideways in the direction of the still palpitating body on the floor, "Come on, baby. I'm itching for it. Do me with your foot like you promised."
Melanie came to her senses slowly. The tingle in her bun gradually subsided. But her titties still felt the phantom weight of her mother's twat; the nipples still stood stiffly in their saucers and felt altogether pleasurable when she touched them. She'd watched Tania take up her position on the floor in front of the couch. She knew what was required of her and consented gladly by getting up and setting herself down on the seat of the couch, one foot dangling down to the open maw of her mother's snatch on the floor.
When Tania saw the dainty girl's foot come down in her crotch she raised her head slightly and grabbed it by the ankle. "Put it right in there, your big toe here." She held the foot and placed its heel at the lower end of her slit so that the heel partly jabbed her anus. Then she took the big toe and crooked it gently on the button of her pulsing clit. The moment it touched there she let out a cry, "Oh, Melanie. Do it like you did yesterday. That was marvelous."
When Melanie looked down the familiar sensation of sex pleasure returned to her body. In the aftermath of her own climax it had somewhat subsided, but now that she saw the magnificent spread of her mother's nude figure on the floor the tense tingle surged back into her loins. Tania made the act something which it had never been with her dad except for the first few months of their relationship. The sight of her mom's full fleshy breasts and the big gash yawning between her thighs was something altogether new in her experience. She jammed her foot firmer in the slit, thrilling to the prickly sensation of cunt hair and the moist grip of the vulva. Then she began, to jiggle it, at first gently but with gradually increasing strength that made all of Tania's body shudder beneath her. She watched the creamy knockers sway to and fro as her mother squirmed over the carpet while her foot continued its dance on the foamy snatch.
"That's it, dear! Keep it up! Don't let it go!" Tania shrieked the words at the top of her voice. She'd done it that way with Rosemary maybe a hundred times, but Melanie's small dainty foot had a way of stomping her twat that was different from anything she'd experienced before. She felt the big gash widen in her crotch and when she angled her head forward and caught a glimpse of the raw frothing hump of cunt flesh she sank back to the floor with a moan of delight. She grabbed the foot by the ankle and tried ramming it deeper, more forcefully into the snatch. She came in a spastic burst of fuck frenzy. Melanie's foot had sunk halfway into the sopping cunt; her heel was jabbing her asshole. Tania buckled forward, holding Melanie's ankle, and thrust one tit upward. Only the fat nipple made it to her mouth. But this was enough for Tania to chew on in the tenseness of her climax. "Oh, don't let go yet," she panted. "Keep it in there,"
Melanie could feel the strong fuck shudders surge from the twat into her foot, up her leg and finally into her own pulsing bun. Her big toe continued to hammer the clit. It felt like a slimy little eel, buzzing with electric tension. She watched Tania's mouth grapple awkwardly with the nipple of one tit. Then she applied her free foot to the wide open anus just beneath her other foot which continued to stomp the slit. The combined action of her feet in both crotch holes made Tania convulse with excitement and Melanie was once again amazed by the spectacle her mother presented-a large womanly body reduced to the utmost degree of voluptuous indulgence. She saw her mother reach for her foot and plunk it down into the splattered vulva with a final concentration of energy. Tania whimpered out loud and when Melanie looked at the clock she saw that it was thirty of eight. Abruptly she withdrew her foot and heard her mother collapse back onto the floor.
And only when she was about to leave the house, after having gotten hastily into her clothes, did she hear her mother speak, "That was some fancy footwork, dear. It feels like a whole army just marched over my cunt."
CHAPTER FOUR
When Melanie arrived at the coffee shop, she found her father seated in a rear booth reading the evening paper. After she'd sat down opposite him, he lowered the paper to reveal the real object of his attention. "I really like this one," he said in an undertone, pointing to a glossy photograph in the catalogue. "Isn't she a dilly? And her dad ain't bad, either. Look at the joint on him."
Melanie accepted the booklet he pushed out at her from under the paper. She covered it casually with her purse while the waitress took her order-"A thick strawberry shake with French fries and lots of ketchup." In the same breath she cried out after the waitress had gone. "What are all these pictures? They're all young girls with old men."
"The men are their fathers," Baxter explained. "This is the catalogue of the father-daughter swap club. I received it in the mail this morning and talked to the organizer." He continued to explain how the club worked and once again pointed to the couple of his choice. "I've looked at every picture carefully but this one is the best. I love those boobs."
Melanie could see his eyes spark. She reached under the table and felt his balls. He had a hard on. She shuddered visibly at the touch of the hard lump in his pants. She remembered the softness of her mother's cunt which she'd left less than thirty minutes ago in a delirium of heat. All the way on the bus to Shattuck to meet her dad she'd been wondering how she'd react to him now, that she'd discovered the forbidden fuck fruit of her mom's. Somehow she found it difficult to face him directly. She felt as if she'd been unfaithful. If fucking Tania had been disappointing she would have felt rather less guilty about it. But having enjoyed it as much as she had only served to sharpen the pangs of her conscience. The gesture of grabbing her dad's prick under the table had been impulsively designed to assure both him and herself that nothing between them had changed.
And it was with both surprise and a great deal of pleasure that she discovered her fears to be groundless. She sighed with relief. The touch of her father's heavy dick was as rousing as it'd always been. Pussy-diddling with her mom had changed nothing. In her box there was room for her daddy's dick as well as for Tania's twat. She could take either with an equal lack of discrimination and with the same undiminished eagerness. What the two of them jointly would do to her constituted an interesting point of speculation on which her mind dwelt briefly. Her fantasy flickered alive at the mental picture of sucking the big dong of her dad's while her mom ate into her pussy. She sighed again and returned her attention to the catalogue and the picture Baxter found so much to his liking.
For a full five minutes she kept her eyes riveted at it. Then she riffled quickly through the rest of the pages before returning to the original picture pointed out by her dad. Looking at the sexy teeny fuckers with their big-^ong daddies had brought the color to her cheeks. "She's got nice boobs, all right." She curled her lips and wet them quickly with the tip of her tongue, "And he's really got a build on him. Do you think that's abnormally big? His cock is not even hard."
She swung the catalogue over to Baxter so as to allow him another look. He hunched over it, one finger on the boobs as if to verify their size. When he'd first examined the photograph he'd failed to give the teeny fucker's father a proper study. His breath had been taken away by the young cunt standing beside him in a pose of prick-raising sensuality. She was older than Melanie-about sixteen was his guess. Her hair was long and dark and reached down to the curve of a voluptuously pert keester. The muff she wore around her pussy hung down limp and dank, unlike Melanie's which was a tangled fuzzy bush. He liked long straight cunt hair. Most women had a tangled bush which felt scratchy to the surface of his underbelly. He liked the silky sensation of straight-haired pubes. But what had struck him most of all was the size of her knockers. They were of a dimension and texture which he'd only thought possible on full-fledged sex goddesses of the screen. The girl, though of normal size for her age, was topheavy under the freight of her boobs.
A young teeny fucker with big knockers. Each time Baxter looked at the picture he felt a lump knot in his balls. This time, though, at Melanie's request, he concentrated his attention on her father. He couldn't suppress a note of envy in his voice when he returned the catalogue next to the plate of french fries which the waitress had brought along with a strawberry shake so thick that the straw stood up straight in the middle. "Yes. He's pretty well hung and I suppose it's real enough. I can't imagine him attaching a length of hose to his crotch just to impress gullible little girls."
As the familiarity with her father resumed its normal level Melanie felt like getting sassy, "You did it, didn't you? You used a photographic trick to make your cock look bigger. If that wasn't meant to impress gullible little girls I don't know what is. I was just asking because I want to be sure it's real before getting involved." She brought her eyes closer to the picture as if somehow this would confirm the veracity of her observation. Other than that of her dad and those portrayed in the sex manuals on his library shelves, it was the first cock she'd ever seen of a man with whom she stood a good chance of getting intimate. The fact that his dick was slack added to her amazement. How tall would it stand erect? His balls were pink and bloated, swollen like twin udders. Apart from the slight suggestion of a pot the rest of his body was trim. He had lean hairy legs and a broad fuzzy chest. Of all his physical endowments his face was the least interesting. It might have been carved from soapstone for all the expressiveness it conveyed. It was the face of the horny Everyman, the dull obsessive leer of the average lecherous Joe. He looked rather smug, pleased with himself and the big dong which stood out before him like a flexed upper arm. Melanie tried to imagine what it would feel like in her mouth. "Do you know who he is? Have you found out his name?"
"Okay, then. It's decided." Baxter copied the number under the picture and closed his notebook and the catalogue. "I'll call Mr. James tomorrow morning and let him know we'd like a meeting for this weekend. I'm glad we're in agreement. Let's just hope they're free." While closing his briefcase, he lowered his head below the table and reached out with his free hand in the darkness. He clasped Melanie's knee but that was not what he wanted. This time he made a great show of dropping his napkin to the floor and picking it up. Leaning down under the table he quickly found his objective and his hand tangled with the clew of cunt in Melanie's panties. His arm was all the way up under her skirt. Her pussy felt warm and soppy just as he'd expected. But after a hurried additional squeeze he realized it was mushier than normal; it felt as if she'd just creamed in her pants.
"Did you go off just now?" he asked after pulling himself straight and folding the napkin on his placemat. "Did the picture of that man's cock get you? To be truthful I jacked off when I saw that girl's knockers. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I hope we can all get together this weekend. I think we're both a little curious."
Melanie didn't respond. For a moment she'd feared that her father would question her about the real cause of her wet pussy. She'd braced herself to keep cool and deny everything. Fortunately, it hadn't been necessary. The secret of her relationship with her mom was still safe.
For his excursion to Berkeley that evening Baxter had chosen the Porsche, leaving the late-model Chrysler at home. Only after making his way across the Bay Bridge did it occur to him that he might have made the wrong selection. It would have been far easier and certainly much more comfortable to screw Melanie in the roomy compartment of the Chrysler's back seat. The Porsche was a zippy two-seater, ideal for blow jobs but rather too cramped for a straight cock-to-cunt fuck bout.
"I wished I'd taken the big car." He spoke more to himself than to his daughter seated next to him. He'd swung off College Avenue and was making his way to the isolated lot of the municipal tennis courts near the university where years ago he'd done some occasional back-seat screwing. He pulled away from the dark arc light and stopped the car at the end of the sand road which ran to a dead end in a clump of bushes. He turned to Melanie and launched one hand up her thigh. When it reached the crotch of her panties, he felt her pussy flutter through the moist fabric. He worked a finger under the elastic band and ran it over the soggy mound of vulva.
Melanie let her legs hand limp and remonstrated weakly, "Dad, really. I shouldn't be long. I promised Mom I'd not be late. Also I got exams on Friday. I know next to nothing for Civics."
Baxter cut her protest short by giving her clit a series of quick titillating jabs. Melanie began to moan, unable to surpress the inner turmoil she experienced at the delicious finger-itch in her pussy and the simultaneous awareness that back home Tania was waiting, her big twat once again freshly bathed, a touch of perfume rising from her majestically arched tits. She felt herself torn between wanting to bite her father's dick and sucking Tania's twat. She didn't know which she preferred. They were both equally enticing. She could handle one or the other, but having it both ways confused her no end. And unable to make up her mind she accepted her dilemma without a further thought. All doubt fled from her mind. Her hand searched blindly in the dark until it landed on the bulge of the light summer slacks her dad was wearing. She grappled with the zip and pulled it down, careful not to let it catch the heated cock skin as it uncurled like a fat slug from his open fly. She ran the zip all the way down and pulled out the sac of his balls. With the fingers of her other hand she pincered the neck.
The outer edge of his knob felt like the handle of a walking stick. She gripped it forcefully, skinning it between two jiggering fingers. Outside the windows of the car she saw the outlines of the darkened tennis courts-the white stripes on the turf and the net and the empty bench on the side. A row of closely set trees blocked out the distant streets. If it hadn't been for her daddy's cock she would have felt afraid. But from its hard-muscled strength she drew assurance as well as a fat bubble of jissom which emerged as a tiny droplet on the head. "Don't jerk too hard," Baxter panted. "I'm about to blow."
Melanie eased the clasp of her hand around the shaft and continued to milk it gently. She helped her father as he leaned over to draw her panties down across her knees, lifting her skirt in a bunch around her waist to expose her snatch as a darkly moist roll of flesh against the beige leather of the seat. The strong static of arousal came pulsing through her body with its usual insistence. It was irresistible. She closed her eyes and worked her vaginal muscles in a clamp around the finger entering her pussy. Her cunt gurgled, the inner lips convulsing with invisible agitation. She leaned her head back and tugged at her sweater until it rose high against her neck to lay bare the small cache of tit flesh.
Her boobies were lit by the faint light coming through the windshield. The proportion of boob to nipple was very much in favor of the latter; the swollen teats prodded outward like fleshy miniature shoehorns, fatter at the nipple tip than at the base on the areola. When she felt her dad's mouth engulf one, she heard it squeak like new leather.
Baxter stayed fastened to the prong of her nipples. He flopped his tongue rapidly around its stubby erectile length, savoring the sweet young tit taste and grunting at the pulling and hauling friction down below in his exposed crotch where Melanie continued to milk the shaft with her hands. Unlike his earlier reservations, he found himself not in the least annoyed by the cramped space of the Porsche's front seat; although it made any extensive disrobement impossible and limited both their maneuverability, he found these to be spurs rather than obstacles to his fuck lust. He. looked at the small space as a challenge which not only raised the boiling cockblood but which also put a considerable premium on his own inventiveness and improvisationary powers.
While submitting to the silky pressure of Melanie's hands in his groin, his mind toyed at the same time with the various positions capable of being assumed in the constricted area of the car. A free-floating face-to-face hump which would have been so easy in the spacious Chrysler was out of the question in the cramped sports car unless he opened one door and extended his legs outside. He could let her straddle his cock but she was sure to bounce her head against the roof once the going got heavy. Any other normal insertive position was equally encumbered with difficulties, if not impossible. He considered going down on her bun but didn't feel like struggling with his knees bunched under his ass; he was getting too old for that. He wanted a comfortable fuck.
As his finger continued to batter the palpitating cunt flesh he found himself depressingly unable to make up his mind. He didn't know what he wanted. Every conceivable fuck thrill with Melanie had been explored to the outermost limits. His thoughts turned to the big-assed girl with the huge knockers in the catalogue. "Shall we wait 'til you come over Friday? It may be a little awkward just now," he whispered, detaching his mouth from her boobies and easing up on the rotations of his finger in her snatch.
But this time it was Melanie who objected to going home. Her dad's finger had planted an un-. relenting urge in her pussy. Now she wanted his prick-desperately. Once the juice started to flow, she found it impossible to shut off. She considered an aborted or misfired orgasm like the amputation of a limb-a loss that could never be made good again once the moment had passed. When she wanted it she wanted it here and now with the bulbous head of the cock pointed straight down at the cervix, that delightful uterine thrill button whose stimulation was like being massaged by all the naked angels in heaven. "Put your head against the window," she commanded hoarsely, shoving Baxter's shoulders roughly against the door. He slumped back, his upper body wedged between the steering wheel and the back of the seat.
Melanie withdrew her snatch from the impaling finger and collapsed facedown onto his groin. Her tongue lathered his balls briefly before climbing up along the shaft and playing around the corona--the outer rim of the knobby head. Her bare rump twitched convulsively as her mouth plunged with a series of hoarse, choked-up noises down on the stiff muscle. Her pussy squirmed over the leather seat; the rough surface created a strange new edge to the fractional heat in her twat. The seat was garnished with a number of diametrically spaced buttons. One of these had snagged her clit. The little rosebud's contact with the button produced an ecstatic cunt jolt that made her gasp for air.
She buried her whole face in his groin, drooling in the pubic patch and licking around the root, his balls, and up along the hard muscle until she again gasped for air. The urge in her pussy gave added impetus to the workings of her mouth on the stiff dong. Within seconds she had her dad where she wanted him to be; he was lying slumped against the door, his teeth gritted and his eyes closed as the oral attack on his pecker continued unabated. A pained expression stiffened his jaw. He felt the hot juice rise in the fiercely throbbing glands. "Ah ..." he muttered with each cock jolt, "Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Between protracted oral manipulations of his dong, Melanie could be heard to make similar stuttered noises. "Ochhh! Gluck! HarftY!" Her cunt ground fiercely into the seat. The hard leather button rode the open slit like a spur. She shrieked each time she bore her ass down hard on it. At the same time her mouth gurgled, filled to overflowing with its huge load of cock. She'd managed to worm one hand underneath his balls and these she shook maniacally to get the juice surging up along the length of shaft and out the cock slit.
Inside her own button-humping cunt the charge of pre-orgasmic tension built up to an unrelenting pressure. As the convulsions in her twat became more insistent, the whole car began to rock to the rhythm of her grinding ass and violently sucking mouth. Her hair flew wildly. Her mouth increased the force of its sliding traction. She smelled the musty wool in her dad's groin and launched a final all-out attack on the trilling shaft. She clutched the root with one hand and stirred it like a spoon between her lips so that the froth came streaming down her jaw and trickled into the wide channel between her boobies..
Baxter moaned, "Now! Now! Don't let go!" When he tried to fling his legs wide he banged his knees against the dashboard and Melanie's stomach. He couldn't move his groin; it was held down by the weight of her shoulders as her head buried itself deeper into his crotch. Her ass bumped, bucked and twisted onto the seat. He wondered what it was that made her so convulsive. She was carrying on like a Wild beast. From the corner of his eyes he watched her heave and toss her cunt as if she were actually humping a dick. At the same time she didn't lapse for a second in the violent lap job on his dick.
Finally, when he felt the whole car sway on its chassis, he tried to restrain her by placing his hands on her rump and thus holding her gyrations in line. In the end each one of these efforts was frustrated by the uncontrollable contortions in her lower body. The last time he reached over, his hands hung briefly in midair before falling down heavily by his side. His prick was pulsing like a piston. He was no longer able to coordinate his movements. Again he banged his knee into the dashboard while the steering wheel bored into his chest. But he hardly noticed it. The sap was rising in his balls. He clutched Melanie's head as it frantically bobbed in his crotch. Her tongue roweled the ripples into pounding waves. With another sopping mouth-jigger she channeled it along the shaft and into the pulsing red mushroom. And with a final tempetuous shake of her head she released a spurting dash of jism which he forced from his loins while his bowels rumbled and his eyes swam dizzily in their sockets. The spout of cock juice burst from the shuddering knob and spent itself against the roof, some of it splattering onto the windshield and on his own as well as on Melanie's head and shoulders. "That's good, dear," he wheezed. The tiny fissure in the knob continued to emit small bubbles of wax which trickled down the stem where Melanie lapped her tongue eagerly. "That's fine. Real fine," he panted again when her persistence in mopping his dick became somewhat uncomfortable.
While he leaned back against the door in a swoon of post-ejaculatory well-being, Melanie kept her snatch fastened to the button. The squishy sounds of her twat and belly moving over the leather became more violent. To his surprise Baxter found the car to be rocking more strongly than before during his cock-bursting climax. When he opened his eyes and observed the cause of the commotion he did a quick double-take. Right beside him Melanie was humping frenziedly. -For a moment he feared she'd suffered a serious convulsive attack. Her pink bum squirmed like an electrified jelly fish. Down in his lap he watched her face writhe spastically over his wilted dick. When she flung down her cunt he could hear the flesh slap against the leather.
At once he bolted himself forward and grabbed the cheeks of her ass, this time not to restrain her but to add force to her bouncing loins. Though still unaware of the precise cause of her fuck joy, he knew that it had something to do with the seat. Following each upward lunge of her rump he bore down on it with all the might in his hands, wondering what it was that made her squeal when the button jabbed her clit. For another minute the voluptuous writhings and blood-curdling moans increased in both force and volume. Suddenly he saw her jerk up her head. Her whole body stiffened. He clutched her buttocks and ground them into the seat, kneading the fleshlike dough. Melanie gave out with a low mournful wail as if the pleasure in her snatch had reached the furthest limits where it crossed over into pain. Baxter jammed his hand beneath her crotch and at once discovered the button smeared with the juice from her clit. Melanie ceased to wail abruptly and the frenzied howl of a siren assailed his ears. In the same instant he jerked her head away from the horn where it had landed due to the violence of her orgasmic contortions. The tooting sound stopped as suddenly as it had started; in the silence that followed Melanie lay still in the puddle of pussy cream that lathered the seat.
A few minutes later she let her dad handle her willingly, making no effort to assist him. Her panties were still down at her ankles; her bun bore a reddish stain where the leather had chafed it raw. Slowly her breathing returned to normal. She felt too exhausted to move and it wasn't until the Porsche had stopped a block away from her home that she gave a sign of being alive.
Baxter opened the door. "I'll see you Friday. Same time, same place." As he drove away he caught a glimpse in his rear-view mirror of his daughter stumbling like a sleepwalker down the dark street, her panties still twisted at her ankles. He honked the horn once to draw her attention. She turned, her head, reached down at once and pulled up her drawers. Then she blew a kiss at the vanishing car.
CHAPTER FIVE
It had all been arranged. On Saturday morning Baxter and Melanie would drive out two miles outside of San Rafael to the Hi-'n'-Dry Motel where the incomparable Mr. James had reserved room number eight for them under the name of T. W. Simmons. Room number nine consisted of similar accommodations for the "counterpart" couple they would meet at noon. Friday morning, during the telephone conversation with Baxter, Mr. James had intimated that the couple in question had been impressed with the photograph of father and daughter Ross and had passed over a number of other couples in their favor. He'd added that this couple would be registered in the motel under D. L. White and that they were old hands at this sort of thing so that neither Baxter nor his daughter would have any cause for embarrassment.
While speaking to Mr. James, Baxter had before him on the desk the catalogue opened at the picture of the "counterpart" couple. The sight of the delicious knockers brought a lump to his balls as it did every time he looked at them. He'd held out for a meeting that same night, but Mr. James had considered this too short notice. Saturday morning was equally suitable, though Baxter forewarned himself to take it easy with Melanie the night before so as not to exhaust, himself for the next day.
Before hanging up he thanked Mr. James profusely. He marveled at the man's organizational ability. In less than two days-between Wednesday and Friday morning-Mr. James had managed everything to perfection; he'd rushed Baxter's photograph and particulars to the "counterpart" couple, received their affirmation early Friday morning, arranged the motel, forwarded the information to Baxter and cashed his membership check. Baxter could only wonder what a partner like Mr. James might do for his own law firm. The man knew how to hustle, how to get things done. Mr. James was by all criteria far more enterprising than his partner Stan who had a drinking problem along with an incurably muddled mind.
Melanie, after she'd arrived at his home that evening, appeared far less enthusiastic about their motel date the next day than Baxter had expected. When he finished giving her the information her response consisted of a long-winded yawn and a slow, lazy slump down into the chair by the fireplace. "I'm sorry, Dad," she apologized, "I'm so tired. I had exams today. I think I flunked Civics."
She lied glibly, still smarting in the pussy from the vehement suck job Tania had applied to it less than an hour ago. She'd had an awful time escaping from her mom's pussy-clutch. Tania had been unwilling to let her go and begged and pleaded with heaving tits for her to stay. Melanie knew the reason only too well; her mom hadn't screwed like they did in many years. There was horny blood in the family and most of that was her mom's. "Phew," she gasped, thinking back of the past few nights and the hot cunt play with her mom. "Phew."
Without wanting to appear overly pleased with her condition, Baxter received her lies with alacrity. All day he'd been racking his brain about a strategy which would keep him from having to fuck her that night. He wished to reserve all his cock power for the girl with the giant boobs. It wasn't that he had suddenly cooled to the idea of humping his daughter. He simply knew the limits of his endurance. The girl in the catalogue had gotten his blood up. And he wanted to be sure of giving her a humdinger of a fuck job. He walked over to Melanie and, cradling her ass in both arms, he scooped her huddled form off the chair. "I'm going to put you to bed. Believe me, I know how tough things get around exam time. I'm going to see to it that you have a good night's rest so by tomorrow you'll be fresh as a daisy for your new daddy."
Melanie made herself comfortable on the unfamiliar bed and directed her glance at the silly morning soap opera on the wide-screen TV which blinked in one corner of the large, septi-cally furnished motel room. They'd checked in a half hour ago under the name of father and daughter T W. Simmons. While the motel owner fished for his reservation Baxter had pretended a vague illness; he'd made a show of leaning helplessly on Melanie's shoulder as they made their way to the room. "He had beans for lunch," Melanie explained to the proprietor before stepping out of the office. As soon as she got inside the room she tossed up her skirt playfully and giggled, "I hope they come soon." The night before she'd slept like a log and now she was feeling the crawlies in her pussy.
It had been Baxter's notion to undress and greet their neighbors nude-a suggestion at which Melanie had initially balked with a small protest of modesty, admitting, "I've never shown my everything to another man." But Baxter had assured her with the explanation that their nudity would serve to make the meeting less formal and get things started immediately. He helped her disrobe and then took off her own clothes. Together they climbed into bed, drawing the crisp sheets to their necks and trying hard not to let their excitement and impatience show.
Baxter had turned on the TV in the hope that it would distract him from the raging tension in his balls. His erection stood up like a massive strut beneath the sheets. He hadn't fucked the night before. As soon as he'd finished putting Melanie to bed he'd gone to sleep as well. He'd awakened' in the middle of the night with his cock stuck hard into Melanie's asshole. But instead of submitting to the urge as he usually did, he'd instead quietly wiped his cock on the sheets and gone back to sleep.
But now with the big-titted object of his fuck lust so close at hand he found it hard not to give in to the nearness of his daughter's pussy. He considered a quick grab-ass hump before their neighbors arrived. At last, after a half hour had passed without a sign of their arrival, he turned to her, "Let's you and I ball. What've we got to lose?"
Melanie snuggled up close against him and locked his pecker between her thighs. "M-m-m-m-m..." she whispered. "That feels better. I wanted to fuck this morning but you were in such a hurry to go. Last night was the first night we didn't fuck since we started doing it. Do you know that?" The intimacy of her consession drew her closer onto his dick so that the bulb" of its head emerged on the other side of her crotch just below her anus. She enjoyed rubbing her pubes against his groin while riding the underside pussy slit over the rail of his shaft. With one hand she rummaged behind her buttocks and found the flushed knob sticking out from between her thighs. She arched her hand beneath her rump and squeezed the hot mushroom. She saw her dad struggle with his legs in the sheets. He finally kicked them down to the foot end of the bed and swung one naked leg high. This movement freed his balls to ride up against her inner thighs. Melanie cupped them and then drew one fingernail with tantalizing slowness over the crack of his ass.
That did it for Baxter. The deep dark channel dividing his buttocks was his first and last line of defense. Once breached it broke at the same time the most stubborn restraint in his cock, setting it to waggling uncontrollably. While he struggled to wrest his dong from between her locked thighs, Melanie's finger continued its slow ascent up the gully of his anal tract. The soft pussy slid over the struggling shaft. Her finger reached the cavernous pit buried deep in his crack. With the same excruciating slowness it began to bore into his rectum.
He could stand it no longer; with one terrific heave and grunt Baxter wrestled his dick free. At the same time the sudden ferocity of his lunge jerked Melanie's finger abruptly from his anus. He swung over onto his stomach and stretched out lengthwise, the long tube of cock pressed flat against his belly. He grabbed hold of the same finger Melanie had prodded into his asshole, "Put it back in there ... I'll do it to you. It feels good. Real good. Come on, will ya?"
Melanie needed no further urging. Two nights ago she'd let Tania do the same thing to her. But afterward when she'd stuck her finger up her mom's anus she'd quickly switched to the thumb-her mom's asshole was wide, much wider than her dad's. It was also more resilient. Despite the prodding of her index, Baxter's rectum hardly dented. She changed to her pinky which at once made the going smoother. She then made herself more comfortable between his spread thighs where she sat on her haunches; when she leaned over, both her boobies brushed the hump of his buttocks in which she'd inserted all of her pinky. With her free hand she reached under his crotch, fingering and playing the hard slat of pecker. After a few minutes of this she drew the same hand up again and began to fondle his throbbing scrotal sac. Baxter just lay there, taking it all in and gurgling like a baby. Melanie was finger-fucking his asshole into a veritable fit. He couldn't keep it from squirming. On his lower spine her boobies bounced like tennis balls as her body followed the motions of her fondling fingers.
Suddenly she pitched forward, flopping onto her belly beside him. In his desperation Baxter clutched his buttocks and inserted his own finger inside the rectum. He gave it a few good jiggers, but soon discovered that anal masturbation was nowhere near as good as having a little girl's hand do it. He eyed his daughter accusingly. "Why did you stop? Why? I was just starting to really enjoy it."
Melanie slapped her own rosy bum. "It's my turn now. You promised. Do it to me now." She flopped her head down into the pillow and writhed her rump in anticipation. "Ooooh, that's it," she murmured when she felt her father's dong brush the back of her calves while he settled behind her. Then his hands spread the cheeks and she heard him marvel, "Melanie, dear! It's all pink inside. Like coral. It's lovely. Remind me to take a picture of it next week. I don't think we've got one of your rectum."
"And you know why?" Melanie pouted. "You kicked over the camera."
Baxter shrugged his shoulders, remembering the blood in her anus the last time he'd tried to fuck her there. "The bruise is completely gone now," he said finally with mock cheer after examining her anus carefully. He drew the buttocks farther apart until the puckered lining unfolded like the interior of a petal. It felt soft, even silky to the touch as opposed to the leathery texture of the anal crack in older women. He watched Melanie squirm as he prodded her anus with one finger. It sank without the least resistance into the dark pit. Again he marveled, "It must have gotten bigger since the last time.
Have you tried putting something up there? A Magic Marker or something? It definitely feels like it's been made bigger."
Melanie bit her lip. Her mom's finger-fucking of her asshole had left its mark. "I've been doing exercises," she lied hoarsely. "I'm sure that must be it." She heard her father laugh, "I'm not complaining. I like it that way. Do a few more weeks of exercises and we'll talk business." She felt his finger probe deeper into her rectum. At the same time he crooked his thumb around her underside crotch and let it enter her slit. Melanie bucked her ass lightly. "Wow!" she exclaimed, humping the bedsheets.
Hunching low over her writhing rump, Baxter's dong slapped against her thighs. With his thumb he jiggered the cunt hole while his index finger sank farther into the anal opening. Between the two fingers he had her completely impaled; the palm of his hand kneaded the crotch flesh. Melanie's whole body rippled with delicate fuck shudders. From her mouth came trills of delight that filled the room like the chirps of a goosed canary. She squealed each time she felt the fingers stir. She pushed one hand down beneath her belly and held the root of the finger Baxter had stuck in her cunt, guiding it deeper into the womb. But when the finger locked in her anus attempted a similar depth charge she hunched her buttocks in pain. "That's where it hurts, Dad!"
Baxter raised his finger somewhat from the puckered pink button, but continued to stir the other in her snatch. At the same time he managed to work his stiff pecker in the crook of Melanie's knee so that when he bent her leg it locked the cock between calf and thigh. By repeatedly opening and closing her leg, she effected the approximation of a dick massage which soon had Baxter squirming his ass. He noticed that her pussy had begun to feel dank and steamy. He saw beads of sweat roll down her buttocks while a clammy sensation spread from her asshole into the finger he still kept there. He remained in the hunched position over her rump, lunging his cock back and forth over the hollow at the back of her knee. He spat on it once to make it more lubricant.
Melanie gasped and tossed her head. Inside her twat Baxter's finger was working over every thrill cell it could find. The simultaneous jazzing of her anus made the whole thing even tastier. And feeling the steely shaft of his dong slide in and out of the crook of her knee made it all complete. Her groin squirmed as if it were resting on a bed of hot coals. Her nipples bored into the starch of the bedsheets. Her mouth fluttered in ecstasy. She felt her body tense, waiting for the rumble that would split her crotch from clit to anus.
Her eyes opened and closed. Then opened again-wide. In disbelief and frustration she found herself staring at the biggest pair of boobs she'd ever seen in the flesh. She felt a small hand tap her on the shoulder and heard a high girlish voice speak close to her ear, "Mind if I cut in? We're the people in room number nine."
Actually, it was Baxter-not Melanie-who first saw the massively chested teeny fucker from the catalogue standing by the bedside. Wearing only a pair of blue jeans and a blouse unbuttoned to the waist, she looked even randier than she did in the picture. She'd entered the room behind his back and Baxter only noticed her after she'd reached the headboard of the bed where Melanie was tossing her face in the pillow.
The moment he spotted the girl, Baxter let bis finger slip from Melanie's asshole; the finger in her pussy also ceased its stirring motion. His eyes fell spellbound to the curved flow of teeny-fucker tits pouring forth from the open blouse. When she reached down to tap Melanie on the shoulder, both creamy udders swung like two perfect cantaloupes. Her long black hair and soft cherry mouth flashed at him. "Do you mind if I cut in?"
Baxter shuddered to think what the consequences might have been if the motel owner had walked in. But after his initial surprise had passed he felt crazily lightminded. He smiled and hung his head in mock dismay, "Well, you caught us at it-redhanded." When he raised his head again he saw her tits dance with mirth; her voice was high and breathy, "Do you always speak with your finger in your daughter's asshole?" Baxter looked down at the index which was still implanted in Melanie's crack. Then he laughed along with the girl and finally Melanie saw the humor as well. "Get that finger out of my ass or I'll shit on it," she growled playfully.
The room erupted with laughter from all three. In the silence that followed they heard a knock on the door. It opened and the man from the catalogue picture walked in naked except for a towel which he held knotted at the waist. His pecker stood out in it like the arm of a railroad signal. He spoke with a windy Midwestern drawl, "I heard everybody having such a good time I thought I'd invite myself over and join the party." He smiled first at Melanie, then at Baxter. He pointed to the chesty teeny fucker with the sassy mouth, "That's my daughter Cindy. My name is Joe." He extended his hand to Baxter who shook it with a hand still sticky with Melanie's pussy juice, "Glad to meet you."
Cindy had briefly vanished into the bathroom and returned with a towel which she tossed at Baxter. "Wrap that around your bun," she or-, dered and walked across the room to the door. She opened it and crooked a finger at him, "Are you coming?" Baxter, without speaking a word to either Joe or Melanie, hastily paced after her. He shut the door behind him and slipped over the welcome mat into the room next door. After bolting the lock, he turned to face Cindy who'd already discarded her blouse and was seated on the edge of the bed, pulling off her jeans. He spoke hoarsely, letting the towel slip from his dick to the floor, "I've been thinking of this all week. Finally, there they are."
Cindy giggled, "I hope you don't mind me being so forward. I hate all the bullshit." She kicked the jeans off her feet and whipped her ass up to slip one hand beneath her crotch and pull the panties down over her thighs. "We've been doing this for five months. Mr. James told us this was your first time. First timers are usually shy so we've learned to break the ice. No bullshit. We don't want none of that. Like I say, don't mind us. We just love to fuck."
Baxter found her fascinating, not only for her obvious physical attributes but more so for the forthright, unabashedly frank attitude she displayed toward the whole affair. "How old are you?" he asked, approaching the bed, cock awag-gle.
"Fifteen."
"How long have you been doing it with your dad? I don't mean to pry ... it's just that-"
Cindy cut him short. Her chest turned to him with its huge arch of tit flesh rolling like the crest of a wave. One fleshy nipple prodded into his upper arm. "I'm fifteen now," she said. "He raped me when I was seven. At first I used to hate it and fight like crazy. But then I began to enjoy it. For the past five years it's been wonderful. My mom split with my piano teacher so now I live with my dad. He's very understanding and funny. Every morning he calls from work and asks me for a date at six and we go for a walk or to the dirty movies. Do you like them?"
"I like a few dirty movie stars but mostly I watch television." He changed the subject abruptly. "What does your dad do for a living?"
"He works at the post office. Next month he'll be up for promotion. We're keeping our fingers crossed he'll get it."
"And you? You go to school?"
"Oh, yes. I love poetry." She scooped up both massive breasts and proffered them to Baxter's inspection. She held them proudly as a mother might show off a baby prodigy. "The only thing I hate about school is gym and everybody thinks my boob is the volleyball. I'm not even allowed to sit in most, classes because all the little boys go wild when they see me. Feel how heavy they are?"
Baxter made his hands into a cup into which Melanie lowered one fully rounded tit. Despite its firm appearance the flesh was surprisingly soft; it felt like cream melting in his palms. He brought the flushed globe to his mouth and squeezed it all over his jaw. She guided his fingers in tweaking the nipple between his lips. Then she took her other breast and rubbed it into his temple and forehead, the nipple prodding his ear. Baxter fell to dreaming and it took Cindy's silky hand on his dick to bring him back to bedroom reality. "Where am I?" he asked.
Cindy took his face and laid his cheek against the rise of one breast. His tongue lapped gently at the pink saucer. He opened his mouth and with the aid of Cindy's hand he began to stuff as much tit as he could inside it. Before long he was sputtering, and quickly expelled most of the tit flesh. His lips caught the nipple which they suckled voluptuously. He saw the rich valley of the cleavage and placed his face in it. He felt thrilled all over. What tits! He'd rarely in his life experienced a situation where the capacity of his mouth could not take in the volume of one breast. All he could accommodate was the nipple and the areola. The massive rise beyond these were outside the scope of his lips.
His jaw had sunk in the channel dividing one huge knocker from the other. A tide of tit flesh washed over his nose and eyes. He snuggled his nose deeper into it, dipped his tongue, rubbed his cheek and brushed his temples first against one lobe, then against the other. He felt like a mountain goat in the high tit lands, frolicking over valley and hill and back to the heavenly nipple tipples which he grazed with trembling lips and choked bleats of ecstasy.
Cindy looked down her nose at Baxter's head lolling on her bosom. She suffered his indulgence patiently. She was familiar with the regressive behavior most men adopted at the sight of her boobs. They carried on like children, touching, fingering, squeezing, lapping, sucking, stroking until her breasts looked and felt like dirty butchers' gloves. As long as they didn't get too rough she didn't mind overly much; her real concern was that a lot of these tit-fixated men forgot all about her pussy. Some of them became totally mesmerized and followed every tremor and movement of her boobs with catatonic nods of the head. Even if she'd push their faces straight into her cunt, they'd still bob up like a cork at the level of her tits. Often she'd expressed a silent wish that her cunt might stand out as prominently as her high-rise knockers-a big inverted camel hump of a cunt so obviously there that no man could be oblivious of its presence, as they so frequently were once they got the lay of her boobs.
For the moment, because Baxter was gentle and so clearly delighted she did not mind his larking tit play. She actually found herself enjoying it for a change. For some inexplicable reason her left nipple was more erogenous than her right one and when Baxter fastened his mouth on it she emitted a small cry of pleasure. She leaned back onto her elbows and pushed her ass closer to the edge of the bed, "Here, put your prick between them." She cradled her boobs so that the cleavage showed its full dimensions. "I'll squeeze 'em together like so." She clutched the sides of her chest and squeezed the boobs together. Then she drew them apart as Baxter rose from the bed and placed himself in front of her.
"Can I put my knees in your lap so I can sit up on your thighs with my cock in your lovely melons?"
Cindy nodded. She was now seated straight up at the edge of the bed, her feet braced on the floor. She helped Baxter hunker frontally on her thighs so that his knees lodged bracket-wise against her underbelly. When he raised himself straight up from his knees his cock nestled snugly in the cleavage of her bosom. He held the crown of her head with both hands and looked down her spine which ended in the confluence of her buttocks.
As he wormed his pecker deeper inside the tit channel, Cindy wrapped her arms around his waist and laid one cheek to her sternum. Then she began to jigger her boobs with a series of voluptuous motions of the shoulders and hips. Bracing her feet more securely against the floor, she wrapped her arms hard around his ass, holding him against her as if she were about to lift him. Instead she began to rock her ass on the bed, up and down and sideways, each movement reinforcing the sway of her breasts all around his dong. Baxter found it easy to retain his balance by moving with her rather than against her. Thus he found himself in a dance of dick and tits which was as exciting to watch as it was to feel in his groin. His cock rode the cleavage in a regular rhythm that soon elicited a coating of perspiration from the over-stimulated pores. He watched the flushed muscle pull up and down the tit channel and beneath the two heavy knockers he spotted a bloated wrinkled sac-his balls riding up against the underside curve of massed breasts.
Suddenly Cindy tightened the grip of her arms around his waist, thus forcing him to stop bouncing and keep still. Baxter looked down past her head which she held pressed against his chest. He saw the flushed knob of his dick project from the tit tract just below her jaw. The tingle in his shaft was slow in cooling as it lay in the valley of her breasts. They felt as soft and pneumatic as the interior of a cunt; but what made it different was the lack of moisture in the boobs. Apart from the natural sweat worked up through their own efforts, the tit hump was comparable to a dry fuck. His shaft felt like a red-hot ingot. He gingerly attempted to move it, first by lowering his groin and then shoving it up against her bosom so that the flushed knob hit Cindy in the jaw.
The motion had been so abrupt that Baxter almost lost his balance. Fortunately, Cindy's rump on the bed was a firm anchor which kept him squatted on her thighs. She spread her lap wider but stiffened the arms she held around his ass. The friction of the pubic wool against her boobs had stiffened her nipples to hard leathery prongs. Without raising her head, she spoke into his belly, "If you keep still, I'll put my nipple up your asshole. Just so long as you keep your cock between my tits so I can push up your balls ... like so."
She took one hand from his ass and pushed it under his balls. Then she peeled one tit lobe from his groin and stretched it around the scrotum, guiding the nipple under and around the crotch until it emerged in the basin of his anus on the other side. When Baxter felt it brush his sensitive anal tract he let go with a fierce gritting sound.
"Isn't that nice?"
"It's lovely ... just lovely." And he wasn't lying. The hard stubby nipple and its foundation of puckered pink saucer made his asshole come alive. His rectum seemed to stiffen like his cock. Compared to the delicacy of the nipple's touch, Melanie's earlier fingering in the same place had been as subtle as a pile-driver. Below him Cindy was grunting to herself, trying to keep her seated position on the edge of the bed while supporting Baxter's knees on her thighs at the same time that she walloped her tit around his crotch and into his ass.
She was a strong girl. A persistent girl. Not only did she manage to keep her balance under the weight of the squatted body in her lap but, despite this encumbrance, she also managed to knead her boob expertly into his scrotum and anus. She was steady as a rock-far more than Baxter was. He was rapidly reaching the point of over-stimulation and had trouble keeping his balance. He felt dizzily elated. This was the first time he'd ever had a nipple up his asshole; the first time he'd had his balls buried in tit flesh; the first time he was actually fucking a pair of tits like a regular cunt.
He began to totter in excitement. First one knee slid off her thigh and landed in her crotch, right up against her pussy. Then, as she jabbed her nipple hard into his anus, his other knee slid off in a similar manner. The sudden thrust of both knees in her lower belly set Cindy swaying on the edge of the bed. And when Baxter suddenly rammed his dick in a ferocious piston-pump of balls and shaft up and down the cleavage, she began to totter dangerously. With a cry of consternation she collapsed backward onto the sheets, dragging Baxter with her.
But such was the force of Cindy's tit-hold that its fleshy channel retained its traction on his dick. When he landed on top of her, his pecker was still securely grounded in the slot between her boobs. Cindy lay under him, her boobs weighed down by his convulsively thrusting ass. He was fucking her tits like a regular cunt except for one difference-instead of stabbing his dick horizontally, he slid it vertically in and out of the cleavage. Cindy managed to keep the channel tight by squeezing her boobs together from both sides of her chest. At the same time she thrust her cunt violently against his thighs resting on top of her belly. Her head squirmed beneath his chest as his cock humped away like a woodpecker. At times the weight on top of her boobs threatened to choke off her breath. Then she would quickly wrest her face to one side and snatch a mouthful of air from under Baxter's armpit.
Baxter listened to his balls slap against the creamy knockers. The cleavage sucked at his dick like a valve. His balls vibrated to a familiar flood of static. Then he felt Cindy wrap both her legs around one of his thighs so that her pussy pressed up moist against the skin. He felt the sopping lips slip back and forth on the rhythm of her groin under his thighs. She was shrieking like a kettle, her voice choked by the weight of his chest, "Eat it! Eat my pussy! Don't forget... I haven't only got tits ... I got a pussy ... Eat it! Please! Eat it!"
But Baxter was hardly in the mood to listen. The jangle in his balls had built to an explosive level. The vibrations sent jagged fuck shudders into every pore and nerve end, raising a pucker of skin on his ass and a feeling that his prick might break off at the root if the divine friction were to continue. He felt the oozing snatch squirm against his leg below. He gripped Cindy's head beneath his chest. His ass thrust more vehemently, dashing his pecker in and out of the enlosing tits. The bed gave out with groans of protest. Cindy flung her arms around his buttocks and jiggered his balls from behind as if forcing the sap to rise. "Come! Come! Come!!!" She shouted while clutching her tits from the side, raising the nipples like twin nozzles into the pubic groin and into the load of fuck flesh between her boobs.
At last she managed to wrest her mouth free from his chest on top of her. Twisting her neck to one side she found the hollow of his armpit. But when she got ready to shout the same urgent command it was too late. He'd already come. She felt the jissom splatter on her lower jaw. The tremors of the shaft rippled through her breasts which she squeezed frenziedly to coax the final drop from the triggering tube. The sap ran down her jaw, shoulders, and tits and even clotted her hair. It lubricated her nipples which could suddenly be heard squeaking against Baxter's groin like rubber plugs.
"You men," Cindy said at last. She turned to face Baxter reproachfully. He'd rolled off her boobs and lay beside her breathing heavily, his eyes glazed dreamily at the ceiling. His cock stood at half-mast like a greased pole likewise pointed at the ceiling. He put his hands behind his head and drawled lazily, "What do you mean, 'You men'?"
Cindy whirled on her ass, turning to face him completely. She folded her legs beneath her rump, assuming the basic yoga position. A sticky film of jissom caked her breasts which showed a fierce red welt on either side of the cleavage where his pecker had driven its furious course. "You men are all selfish," she said. Her anger somehow made her look more desirable than ever. Her breasts shook with the force of her conviction. "All you men see is my tits. You don't care about showing me a good time at all. In case you've forgotten, I've got something between my legs, too."
Baxter whistled under his breath. For the first time he was taking a good look at her snatch. It lay like a freshly slitted plum in her crotch. Her hands covered it briefly and then it reappeared from behind them. With her fingertips she was holding the labia pinned back, revealing the full depth of the hole as well as the pink interior pulp which attained a darker shade red the deeper in it went. And when she pulled the lips wider the hole stretched into a large grinning gash surrounded by a dank mass of pussy hair. She remained seated in the lotus position but pushed her feet more securely under her ass.
Suddenly she let her body arch backward onto the bed. The magnificent tit range strained up on the curve of her chest while her belly thrust out the gash prominently between her thighs. Once again her hands traveled to her crotch, spreading the vulva to its widest limits. Baxter was unable to see her face behind the rise of her bosom, but he heard her voice pant triumphantly, "Can you see what I've got here? Do I have to spell it out? What is it?" She waved her cunt in his face and shouted again, "What is it? What is it?"
Baxter turned onto his side to face the pulsing slit she thrust at him. He swallowed hard, feeling his cock grow erect. Then he felt her hand pull his pecker while she asked him once more, "Well, what do you call tftis? Never mind my boobs. What is this?"
Her pussy lay abundantly exposed. Baxter swallowed again and spoke dryly, "That's your pussy. One hell of a pussy."
The first question Joe asked Melanie after Baxter and Cindy had left the room, he was forced to repeat five times before Melanie responded. The moment the motel door shut behind Cindy's ass she'd frozen to the bed, petrified. She could still feel the tight constricting knot in her anus which only moments ago had harbored her father's finger. She stayed in the same position-prone on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow. She felt like crying. She would never trust her dad again. He'd promised to stay with her until she felt more confident about fucking a stranger. She'd been shocked to see him gone so quickly. Without a word of explanation he'd left her alone with a giant cock that stood out like a flagpole in the towel Joe held wrapped around his waist. For the fourth time she heard him repeat his question and again she didn't answer. Joe persisted, "Well, tell me. How old are you?"
At last she raised her frightened doll's face from the pillow. One small tittie poked its nipple from her breast. "I'm thirteen," she said tonelessly. Her eyes stared at him without expression.
Joe sat down beside her on the bed. He crossed his legs but kept the towel hitched around his ass. Melanie could now see plainly that he was far taller than her dad-at least by four inches. The hair on his chest was grizzled, but he sported a short blond crew cut and long slim sideburns that made him look younger than his years. As she compared her own body to his she felt dwarfed by his size. Yet, he seemed friendly enough and didn't appear to be in a hurry, unlike her father whom she could hear carry on like a rutting elephant next door. "They're sure making a lot of noise," she said.
Joe cast a glance in the direction of the wall. He shrugged his shoulders. "He's probably fucking her tits right now. That's the first thing they all go for with her."
Melanie's eyes widened. "Fucking her tits? How do you mean?"
"I'll show you." Joe rose to his feet and flung the towel to the floor. When he turned around to face Melanie his pecker waggled stiffly over her head. She looked up and gasped. Not only was it huge and thick, but it looked greased like the barrel of a shotgun. The steely cock shaft descended slowly as Joe hunkered down beside the bed until the engorged monster rod came to rest on her chest between the two small tittie cakes. "Actually, yours are too small for it," he explained, pointing first at one boobie, then at the other. "But basically that's how it works. You shove your cock between the two tits until you blow. It's easy with Cindy but most women aren't built for it."
Melanie squeezed her little pea titties dejectedly. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry mine aren't bigger. Why did you want me? I'm so small compared to Cindy."
Joe began to chuckle. The head of his prick grazed her jaw as he rose again to his feet. He leaned over her pink huddled form on the bed and laughed out loud, "Why did I want you?" He took his dick by the root and brushed it over her face. "I wanted you because I like little girls. I love 'em."
Melanie placed her arm alongside the length of his cock next to her shoulder and exclaimed, "Look! It's as long as my forearm." Her mouth hung open. Joe moved away and grabbed both her feet. He pulled her ass over the sheets until all of her body was arched over the floor with only her head and neck resting on the edge of the bed. Her arms hung limply to the floor. Joe seemed to tower above her. She watched him swing one leg over her head so close that his balls brushed her nose. Then he leaned over, placing his hands on the bed beside her head and aiming his tool straight down at her wide-open mouth. He kept her shoulders locked between his knees.
Melanie tried to raise her arm and help him place the big member in her mouth, but Joe's knees pinned her more firmly. His cock dangled-above her nose. His voice appeared to come from very high above her, "That's all right. Ill hold it by the root and fuck your mouth like this." He made a few quick stabbing motions with his dick into her mouth, controlling the depth of oral penetration with the hand he held gripped around the root.
The instant Melanie saw the inflamed knob drop like the nose of a bomb at the target of her mouth, she recoiled in fear, certain it was going to miss and cause damage, perhaps fatally. But it had slid into her mouth like a finger sliding into a glove. During her instant of panic she'd been sure it would choke her. But again Joe surprised her by seemingly knowing the precise depth at which her mouth could accommodate his dick. After one other lunge, equally quick and smooth, he held the swollen cock head to her lips and waved it like a microphone. "Don't worry, it's not going to choke you. By standing hunched over your mouth like this it's angled just right for maximum penetration. It's like everything else-you've gotta know the angle."
His knees bored into her shoulders from opposite sides. His body arched over her face. His hands were on the shaft of his pecker, sliding the skin back and forth while dabbing the cock head at her open mouth. Melanie could see his pecker slide in and out at the measured strokes of the hand jiggering it by the root. She watched his face grit and stiffen, the masturbatory grip of his fingers around the cock root complemented the sliding suck valve of her mouth over the knob. He evidently knew what he was doing. His balls swung low beneath his crotch; with each stab of the shaft they slapped against her chin.
Joe also watched with intent eyes. Each time he pulled up, the saliva ran down Melanie's jaw. And each time he plunged down again she strained her lips to greet it. Then the back of her head would squirm over the sheets as her mouth worried the stiff invader, trying to prevent it from pulling away. Joe, holding his head down low between his hunched shoulders, belched and grunted and felt warm shivers run all over his ass. The strain in his dong made speaking difficult. "For a little girl ... for a little girl you sure know how to suck the old peckeroo."
Melanie accepted the compliment with a flutter of her eyes. The froth of the sliding shaft had traced a moustache under her nose which she vainly attempted to wipe clean. At last, when the greased tool plunged down again, she caught it by the neck and rapidly rolled her tongue over the moustache. She released the neck and a moment later jerked her head at the familiar jolt of the knob in the back of her throat. At the same time she wondered why Joe insisted on holding his pecker by the root. His cock was not an old lady that had to be helped across the road. Why did he believe it had to be led by his hand?
Joe had a special way of jiggering his dick by the root just before letting it fly inside Melanie's mouth. It was a distinct gesture made with a perfect sense of timing. Just before the knob slid past the lips his fingers rapidly skinned the root so that, as the rest of his dick sank into her mouth, it was at the same time given a spin much like the spin put on a billiard ball. With a particularly sharp dick-jigger he could shoot his cock into the center of her cheek so that it bulged like a chipmunk's.
Melanie watched him jigger and plunge, but while she sucked and sputtered she tried to figure out the purpose of the hand he kept wrapped around the cock root. Gradually it dawned on her that he was not so much guiding and jiggering it, but that he was actually beating off; that he was jerking off in her mouth. She'd already noticed by the rigid expression on his face above her that he was rapidly building-up to an imminent and violent release. And she found this puzzling to the extreme. With her dad the whole thing about sex was the playing and the teasing rather than the immediate desire to cut the fuck itch short by quick ejaculation.
While she ate into his dick her mind continued to be puzzled by the impatient fury with which Joe was pumping her, jerking his tool, humping his groin, grunting and sweating as if every moment of the mouth fuck were sheer torture.
But before she could formulate an answer, his dong burst in her throat. Spasm after spasm shook the shaft and with each tremor another spurt of come was flung against her palate. She noticed he was skinning the cock root rapidly now even while she was still sucking like crazy. With her throat speedily filled to the point of gagging, she forcibly wrested her face free. She felt his knees immediately release the pressure from her shoulders. With one heave of her face onto the sheets, she brought up a dripping gob of jissom and swallowed the rest. She drew her head away from the puddle and faced him directly; her voice spoke sharply, "What was the big hurry? Where was the fire?"
Joe shrugged his shoulders. "I'd like to get the first load off fast before we start fucking for real."
"For real!" Melanie exclaimed. "For real! What do you think this was?"
"Of course it was. Don't get me wrong. You'll never hear me defend the contrary." He kneeled down in front of the bed and looked her earnestly in the face. "You don't understand. It's just that the first time I come makes it possible for me to stay longer the next time. It takes the first strong fuck itch away so I won't have to blow so soon next time around." He narrowed his eyes and flashed her a slick come-on. "And believe me, I can stay till hell freezes over. There's nothing better than laying around with your prick in a cunt and just taking it easy. If I put my mind to it I can stay hard for as long as you like. It all depends on how much your pussy wants and how much it can take."
He pointed down at the erection standing up from his groin; its engorgement was still as massive as when he'd first walked in with it under the cover of the towel. Melanie squeezed her snatch between her thighs arid distractedly ran one hand through the patch of pubic fuzz on her lower belly. "It's amazing," she said, taking in the full length of the hard-muscled monster. "My dad always gets soft after he's come."
"I've got a glandular disorder," Joe said.
Melanie perked up sharply. "You're not sick, are you?"
"Hell, no. I'm perfectly okay. I've got something called 'priapism.'It's an abnormal desire for and endurance in sex. That's how I got started on Cincy and two of my other girls. I'd screw my wife about three, four times a night so she gets tired and my blood is still up. She knows about me and Cindy and everything else. She's very understanding."
"Why don't you see a doctor?"
"I have. Believe me I have." He sat down beside her and stared mournfully at the giant trunk poised in his lap. "They all tell me the same thing-'Don't get overstimulated.' What the hell do they know?" He scowled at the wall and demanded rhetorically, "What do they want me to do? Forget about cunt and walk around with a bone on all day?"
"I'm sure there's got to be a pill or something."
"You know something?" Joe said. "I work at the post office and I've got to go beating off in the men's room eight, nine times a day. Lately I've been trying to cut down and I'm sort of steady at five, but still that's about three too many times. Sometimes I've got to really watch myself or I'll fuck a mail bag in the loading zone. Do you understand? It's sometimes embarrassing."
The personal turn of the conversation had made Melanie properly desirous. She found Joe interesting and even felt a little sorry for him. He had a problem and she liked to help him. "Don't worry," she spoke cheerfully. "You're not the only one. I'm like you. I masturbate in class. I can fuck all the time." She leaned over and took his dong in one hand, tracing the ridge of the muscle with one finger. "It feels hard and strong like a cable," she observed. She traced the finger farther along underside shaft and was about to tickle his balls when Joe stayed her hand. "Let me have a look at your pussy." He gently arched her back onto the bed, reclining her ass next to the puddle of his own sap. "I want to see how big it is. If it's a little small I've got a jelly in the other room that'll make it less tight."
"I don't think you'll need it," Melanie said. But despite her protest she spread her legs eagerly. Joe kneeled down on the floor, resting his elbows on her knees, and gave her crotch an appraising look. His dong was lying flat on the surface of one thigh. He played with it casually while bringing his face closer to the lovely teeny cunt whose lips bore faint drops of moisture like dew on the petals of a rose. He kissed it tenderly, but when he withdrew his mouth he kept the labia pursed between his. lips, thus pulling them outward.
He was pleased to observe Melanie's stomach roll appreciatively. Then he proceeded to insert one finger in the hole and followed it with another. Melanie's underbelly began to writhe visibly. She moaned in a low whimper, thrusting her arms straight up when she felt his body move over her at the same time that he guided the head of his pecker toward the entrance of the slit. He struck up the same hunched position over her cunt as he'd previously assumed over her mouth. Melanie was aware that he was showing consideration in attempting to keep his weight off her body. He was again holding the root of his cock as it stood poised over her snatch, but this time he held it gripped in such a way that she understood he was using it to keep the full length of his dick from entering her completely and thus forestall the possibility of causing her pain. "Don't worry, Joe," she whispered, her eyes raised to the ceiling. "If it hurts, you'll hear me scream."
"Does this hurt?"
Melanie fondled the swollen knob at the gate of her snatch. It appeared so large in proportion to the hole between her legs. She felt excited. This would be the first time she'd fucked a man other than her dad. Including her mom, Joe was the third fuck mate in her life. She wondered how many more there would be in the years to come. How many hard pronging dicks and how many soft squishy cunts? She felt as if she were standing on the brink of a tremendous fuck adventure-one that would take her from cock to cunt in an endless vista of fuck thrills. She was only thirteen years old-a full sex life still lay ahead of her. "Oh, Joe," she gasped. "That feels fine."
She could feel her snatch open like a mouth between her thighs. There was no pain and no discomfort. It all felt wondrously new, fresh and thrilling. She felt the cock head sink beneath the folds of the outer cunt lips; the rest of his shaft was still standing like a shovel in the mound of pubes. So far it felt no different from her dad's pecker except that Joe's stretched the entrance more. The simple stirring of the knob between the labia was enough to set her off. She flung her arms high and wrapped them around his neck. However, Joe maintained a virtually upright stance above her prone body so she quickly lowered her arms again when they experienced difficulty in holding on to his neck. This time she sought out the shaft poised over her groin. "Push it all the way in," she breathed heavily. "All the way."
"Let's take it easy," Joe cautioned, intently stirring the root of his pecker with one hand. "You're still a little girl. I don't want to split your pussy. This almost happened to my youngest daughter. It scared us both half to death. It's certainly no joke."
But Melanie's hands were already struggling with his dong. At the same time she raised her knees high, thus exposing the full roundness of her buttocks in the midst of which Joe's cock stood like a stick swiveling her snatch. "Come on," Melanie panted. "Go on in all the way." She doubled over on her stomach, her legs extending back over her shoulders so that her boobies lay flattened by the pressure of her thighs. Joe buckled his knees further down so as to maintain his swivel dick in her snatch. He grunted, "Okay, if you think you can take it, take this."
"OOOOOOHHHHHH!!!"
A champagne cork had popped in her snatch. The gas burst from her cunt. Her head swam dizzily. Her legs had gone stiff doubled over her stomach. After the initial explosive entrance, she felt the giant cock trunk rest motionless against her womb.
Little by little she managed to crane her head forward between the legs folded alongside her head. She found herself staring straight at the massive shaft projecting from her crotch in the V of her thighs. It ran plumb from Joe's hairy groin to the strained lips of her cunt. He'd plunged with a terrible stab through her snatch and now he'd pulled halfway out.
"Pull it up slow, Joe," Melanie pleaded. "I wanna feel it slide." Again she craned her neck forward and watched the greased shaft emerge further, bit by bit, like a drill after hitting pay-dirt. She continued to watch as the swollen stem withdrew inch by inch from the clasping pussy mouth. At last she could see the corona of the knob emerge at the cunt brim. She humped her groin voluptuously. "Please, Joe. Not all the way. Don't pull it out all the way."
Joe's hand was back on the root of his joint which he kept firmly glued to the fuck hole. He rotated the root slowly first clockwise, then counter-clockwise, scouring the interior cunt walls and jabbing at the same time part of the exposed clit with the ball of his thumb. Only when he plunged his pecker again did he release the hand from the root, and then reluctantly. The combined cunt and clit action achieved rapid effect-Melanie began to vibrate like a magnet stuck to cock and thumb; a chain of tremors swept her groin, each shudder feeding on the last one. Her boobies trembled in their fleshy molds. "Joe! It's coming! Ooooh! It's coming!"
When her cunt exploded she felt her body fly through the room. She floated light as a feather while wailing the stuttered joys of her climax. Joe had raised her from the bed and held her seated on his cock. Using the pecker inside the throbbing cunt as a fulcrum, he seesawed her back and forth to stimulate the final jiggers of her orgasm. Then, after she'd subsided, he held her firmly lodged against his belly.
From her elevated perch on Joe's dong Melanie measured the distance to the floor. She clasped her legs around his waist and hugged his neck tight. She trusted he had enough muscle in his cock not to let her cunt slip off a soft dong onto the floor. But all her apprehensions fled when she felt his arms form a cradle under her ass. She rested her head against his shoulder, enjoying the frietional spasms in her womb each time she shifted her ass in the sling and his cock made its deep buried presence known by jabbing the inside of her cunt. "You know," she confided, "that's the deepest it's ever been inside me. I'm positive."
Up 'til then he'd been rocking lightly on the balls of his heels, riding Melanie's cunt with a gentle seesawing motion. But now he clasped her firmly against his chest by releasing the cradle of his arms beneath her rump; this way he could feel her titties hot against his chest. "You're nice and light," he whispered. "I can't do this anymore with Cindy. She's gotten too heavy."
He began to move his feet, taking several springy steps to show her how easy he could manage with her sitting on his dick. Melanie squealed each time she felt his tool stir her innermost depth. This was particularly powerful when he took a few steps and the roll of his hips pushed his groin against hers. She heard his balls slap beneath her buttocks as he rounded the bed and made his way toward the window. With each step her snatch bounced on the impaling shaft and she squeezed the legs she kept securely wrapped around his waist.
When he reached the window she continued to bounce on his dick, flinging her head back and shrieking at the ceiling while Joe bumped his ass in a series of stand-up fuck humps. He then raised one hand to the Venetian blinds which covered the window and pried an opening between two slats. "Look," he said. "Outside everybody's going about his business. All these cars driving by on the freeway and these people in the parking lot-little do they know that here I am watching them with a little girl sitting on my dong. Isn't that funny?"
Melanie turned her head to look out between the slats and saw a couple getting out of a moss-green convertible in the parking lot. The man was beefy and wore dark sun glasses. The woman with him was very much younger, a child almost; she tottered beside the beefy man and was clearly unpracticed wearing high heels. Her wig lay askew her forehead and her lipstick pointed opposite to the location of her mouth. When her companion left to check in at the office she sat down on the front bumper of the car to await his return with the keys.
"This woman's make-up's on all wrong and she's not even old enough to wear a bra!" Melanie let the slat fall and ground her cunt into the supporting pecker.
"I wouldn't be surprised if that girl with the fat man is the guy's daughter," Joe observed. "He's tried to make her look like twenty but she's twelve if she's a day."
Melanie indicated her agreement by working her vaginal muscles in a reflex bite on the tip of his pecker. She humped along as Joe worked his crotch back and forth. She felt his shaft with one hand way down in her pubes and exclaimed how wet it was there. They varied their fuck humps with a number of different rotations of groin and ass, panting heavily when they finally returned to the easy seesaw motion. Melanie let her hair hang down as she leaned back from his neck. "It hasn't been this good in weeks. Not even with my mom."
"With your mom?"
Melanie bit her lip. Her face turned red and her ass ceased its swivel on the impaling pecker. "I meant my dad ... I don't know why I said that." She tried to distract him by giving his cock a couple of furious cunt humps. He responded weakly and then ceased altogether as he stepped away from the window. He halted in front of the wall immediately adjoining the room in which Baxter and Cindy could be heard struggling like two beasts locked in mortal fuck bout. Then he pinned Melanie's back against the wall released his arms from beneath her rump. Using the wall as a bracket to support most of her weight along with his chest, he let her sit freely on his dick. "Come on," he wheedled. "You can tell me. Did you do it with your mom?"
Melanie put her head down and stared past her boobies into the valley between their merged groin. She saw where her pussy hair tangled with that of his and the regular skin flash of his shaft working in and out of her hole; when it entered all the way down to the root, their combined crotch hair looked like the fur of a woolly kitten. Her insides felt swollen with the giant engorgement. Its least movement set her squirming and gasping for air.
"Did you do it with your mom? I won't tell anyone."
Finally she raised her head, defiant-"Yes. If you want to know. Yes, I have done it with my mom. Now are you satisfied?"
Joe showed his satisfaction with a terrific lunge of his groin. Her back slammed into the wall; she could hear her cunt creak on its hinges. "Ouch! Joe-oe-oe!!! Ouch! Why??? Oh, my back! Not so rough, Joe!!!"
She hollered even louder the second time his cock reamed her pussy and threw her ass smack against the wall. The windows rattled, the blinds riffled, a framed painting fell to the floor. Joe continued to lunge, driving Melanie's ass into the wall and disregarding her cries of fear and rapture. Each time she bounced back from the wall her cunt slid like a valve over the pumping rod. Thus they humped, Joe looking grim and spastic, and Melanie oblivious to the pain in her back as she shrieked piercingly, "Lay me down on the floor! Joe! Fuck me straight on the floor."
A moment later her ass was on the welcome mat by the door and Joe was doing push-ups above her. By raising her head she could look down past her stomach at the shaft pumping her snatch. Joe began to grunt louder. The quicker his push-ups, the harder his cock pumped her pussy, the louder his grunts and the more delirious she became. His voice cut through the commotion hoarsely, "Le' me know when you're ready."
Melanie screamed at the top of her voice, "I am! I'm ready!" The friction in her pussy had been raised to a delirious level of fuck heat. She clutched his neck with both arms; her heels clapped around his ass and spurred him on to faster, more ferocious lunges. Her snatch bounced on the flashing rod like a Yo-Yo on a string. She felt herself weakening as the pleasure increased. Her legs went first, falling wide and limp to the floor; then her arms were flung equally wide. The hammer in her womb had started with a ball point and progressed to a mallet-dull thuds of a driving jungle rhythm that made her pussy dance voluptuously. Then her whole body shook as if struck by lightning. Her cunt burst like a cantaloupe while her mouth shrieked the rage of her ecstasy.
By the time Joe triggered his cock, Melanie was already over the hump of her climax. His big ass bounced like the rear end of a bucking horse. She felt the flutters of the cock prior to its release, sharp tremors that suddenly ended when the release came and her pussy overflowed and Joe grimaced and his dick emerged to partial view, steaming with cunt heat.
His body suddenly weighed heavy on top of her. His size dwarfed her, but her snatch was wide enough to receive the final jiggers of sap. She noticed her pussy felt a little sore and was glad when she felt him move. He pulled up his groin, exposing the shaft and the hard sac of balls. The withdrawal of his dick eased the swelling sensation in her cunt.
His cock had been withdrawn to the head of the shaft. Melanie was about to wriggle out from under it when it descended with another terrific lunge. She opened her eyes and saw his dick plunge with hard measured strokes. She crossed her thighs, thus squeezing his pecker. "Are you still hard?" she asked incredulously.
Joe's voice sounded matter of fact. "Baby, I've only just begun to fuck."
CHAPTER SIX
"He's saying, 'Baby, I've only just begun to fuck."
"He always says that after he's fucked a woman half to death." Cindy squatted her nude ass next to Baxter's and applied her ear alongside his to the wall. The rambunctious fuck sport in the adjoining room which had first drawn Baxter's concern at the sort of discipline Joe's cock might be visiting on his daughter's pussy had been replaced by total absorption. By the time Cindy joined him by the wall Melanie's cries of anguish had changed to short, breathy squeals of rapture. Baxter felt at once reassured. As long as Melanie was enjoying herself. That he considered to be the most important thing.
Cindy's cunt, resting between her thighs, fluttered with the silent radarlike homings of a bat roused from darkness. Her orgasm took long in dying. After tit-fucking her, Basxter had gone to work on her snatch with a vengeance; they'd fucked as if it were the last screw of their lives, rolling up and down the carpeted floor like a two-backed beast joined cock to cunt. And yet, hunkering down beside him by the wall and hearing the onset of her father's fuck fury next door, she noticed her pussy once again throb hungrily. She took Baxter's dick and stood it straight up on his groin. "Why don't we join them?" she asked.
Baxter withdrew his ear from the wall. "Do you think it'd be all right for us to come barging in like that?"
But Cindy had already wrapped a towel around her ass and held the top pinned against her straining boobs. She quickly padded over to the door and opened it at a crack, motioning to Baxter when she observed there was no one on the walkway or in the parking lot. A moment later he heard her knocking next door. Almost simultaneously the hard-charging fuck sounds ceased on the bed and Baxter could distinguish the peculiar suctioning effect caused by Joe's pecker pulling out of Melanie's snatch. He got up, grabbed a towel and rushed after Cindy out of the room, leaving the door unlocked.
Joe greeted him when he entered with a firm waggle of his dick which he was still holding by the root. His balls slapped against the inside of his thighs with a wet rubbery sound as he stuck out his cock at Baxter's. The flushed shaft shone like waxed leather. He ignored Cindy completely, "Well, I must say you have a lovely daughter. She's no trouble at all. We're having a lot of fun."
Cindy had plunked her ass next to Melanie's head on the bed. Melanie didn't stir and lay on the sheets with spread legs and closed eyes as if she'd been drained of all life. With her horny bun still throbbing, her arms flung wide and her legs rigidly spread, she maintained the position she'd held when Joe pulled his pecker out of her snatch. It was this froth-coated slit in the hollow of his daughter's thighs which drew Baxter's attention at once. He raised his voice so Melanie could hear it on the bed, "Are you all right?" Then he shrugged at Joe. "Sorry for interrupting. Cindy thought it might be nice to get together for a while. Or else we could take a break. I'd love a bottle of beer. I suppose they don't sell it here at the motel."
Joe shook his head sympathetically. "I'd love some myself. Screwing always makes me dry in the throat." He pointed his dick at Melanie, "Don't worry about her. I guess I'm built a little bigger than you. She'll get used to it."
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. I'm not at all concerned about Melanie. She's young but she can take it." Unconsciously Baxter copied Joe in holding the root of his pecker and waggled it while he spoke.
"And she can dish it out as well as she can take it." Suddenly Joe's face brightened. "Feel like taking a ride to the liquor store?"
"I think that's the best thing I've heard so far." Baxter cast the towel aside like a bullfighter dashing the baouderola. "Melanie! Where did you put my pants? My shirt?"
It was Cindy who handed him the articles of clothing. Melanie, to all appearances, was still dead to the world. Cindy's magnificent tits shook and hung to one side as she propped her back against the headboard of the bed. She drew up her knees and clasped them. Melanie continued to breathe fitfully. While Baxter zipped up his slacks Joe, now fully dressed, stuck his head inside the door and scowled at his daughter, "Cindy! Go get Melanie a glass of water. The girl must be dying of thirst."
Afterward, driving into town in Baxter's Chrysler, Joe remarked, "I think Melanie found the going a little rough. She'll be better soon." He took a long pull at his cigarette and blew out the smoke, "How do you like my girl's knockers? Ever seen a pair like that on a youngster?"
Baxter smiled and sighed, "No, I'm afraid I haven't." When he heard Joe chuckle he began to chuckle likewise. He took the car through a curve in the road and when he straightened up again Joe's elbow was listing heavily into his side. From his corner Joe roared, "In Germany during the war we used to call it the 'knock-fock."
"The knock-fock!" But even as his exclamation rang mirthfully through the car Baxter remained uncomfortably aware of Joe's elbow which was now poking his ribs with persistent, jocular jabs. "Would you believe it!" he cried, bringing his mouth close to Baxter's ear, "Would you believe it, they're out of the five-and-dime!" Then Joe jerked his elbow away and slapped him on the knee. "They're as phony as a three-dollar bill. I hate to tell you but that's the truth."
At last Melanie spoke. "Your dad's one hell of a fucker." She held her pussy like a small crippled bird in the hollow of her palms. "Does he ever get soft? I mean it's terrible. He told me all about his problem." She drew herself up and let her rump rest back on her heels. Her eyes first searched Cindy's face and then the perfectly nippled rise of her chest which suddenly erupted with massive tremors of flesh and full-throated rumbles of laughter.
Melanie looked up, startled. She found herself close to Cindy's convulsing boobs. "What's the matter?" she asked, at a loss. An avalanche of creamy tit flesh uncurled with a thunderous roar from Cindy's chest. Melanie felt herself topple backwards, dragging Cindy with her. The gigantic boobs poured over her ears and nose and cut off her breath. Cindy continued to shake with laughter on top of her. Then she pulled herself upright, hauling the freight of boob back to their normal position. The huge areolas pointed their nipples like antennae. "I'm sorry," she said, still laughing lightly. "I just had to laugh when you said that. I just lost my balance."
"Said what?"
"That he's a good fucker."
"Well?" Melanie raised her voice piercingly, "Isn't he? I don't think it's right to laugh at somebody else's misfortunes. I don't mind his problem. Maybe I can help him." This time Melanie felt herself to be in the right; her motives were clear and Cindy would have to acknowledge them and stop making fun of her "I like to help him, that's all. I really don't care whether he's a good screw or not. I just feel bad about his condition. It must be terrible to have a hard on all the time."
"Sorry... you feel sorry for him? For his condition?" Cindy shook Melanie by the shoulders as if to awaken her. "His condition is not what you think it is. It's far worse. He hasn't had a hard on in twenty-five years. That's not his cock. He hasn't got one."
It took Melanie a long time first to absorb and then to interpret Cindy's words. But even then she couldn't comprehend it. She didn't show either surprise or shock; the news was too bizarre, too absurd. Joe's cock a phony! "You're crazy," she said at last.
Cindy's tits pointed the nipples like daggers at Melanie's eyes. "Don't call me a liar!" She shook her chest angrily. "He lost his cock in the war. It was cut off with a sword on Guadalcanal. He's still got it in ajar at home."
Now Melanie was really discombobulated. "I don't understand. How does he fuck? How does he get it on? How does he shoot off? I sucked him off and swallowed a whole big load -or most of it. How does he manage that?"
Cindy jumped off the bed. "Ill show you something next door. Come on along." She wrapped the towel around her and skipped out the door with Melanie, similarly betoweled, in tow. Inside the room Cindy made immediately for the closet and pulled out a small customized case which she opened and turned toward Melanie. "Take your pick, the pick of the peckers. And if the cock fits you wear it."
Melanie gawked in amazement. The case showed seven hollow facsimiles of the male organ arranged by size. She noticed at once that the prick he'd used to fuck her was not the largest by far. There was one in there that resembled a car jack with a handle that elongated the shaft. She picked one up and examined the narrow slotted opening in the bulbous head. Then she looked into the hollow end at the other side and cupped the big rubber balls whose texture felt uncannily close to the wrinkled sac of a live scrotum. Holding the root of the cock against her pubes, she squeezed the balls at the same time. A looping spurt of sudsing liquid narrowly missed Cindy's head. "So you see how it's done," Cindy said, pointing to the small viscous spot where the spurt had hit the floor. "That's how he comes. He mixes some kind of gelatine with water and dishwashing liquid which he fills up those rubber balls with. When he figures he feels like blowing, he squeezes it. I've eaten it myself. It even tastes like the real thing."
Every cloud that had obscured the picture for Melanie summarily dispersed with Cindy's explanation. "Now I get it!" she cried out. She held the plastic cock facsimile in one hand and slapped the rubber balls against her thigh. "Now I know why he's always holding it like this." She demonstrated to Cindy the way her dad held the plastic dick by the root. "Am I right?"
Cindy nodded her head approvingly. "But exactly. He's got to hold it there otherwise it falls off. He used to use straps that he tied around his ass but women used to get frightened, especially little girls. It spoiled the mood. He feels better holding it in place like that."
"Really? He's really got nothing there. Nothing at all." Melanie still had trouble believing it. "Because, I mean, he fucks good with it. I come just as good, if not better."
"Oh, yea. He's good, all right. He used to practice on me when I was younger and lighter. When I got too big and heavy, he got into my younger sisters. For the past couple of years he's been making it with all kinds of little girls. A few weeks ago he thought up the idea of the ad and we've been out practically every night. He's been having a ball with all the little girls. Normal women are too heavy. He can't keep his cock in place with them."
"You mean to tell me there's no such thing as the daughter-swap club? And Mr. James is-"
"Joe," Cindy cut in. "One and the same."
But Melanie was still preoccupied with the cock in her hand. She turned it around, traced the muscle, and twirled the whole thing like a baton. "Have you ever seen him without his prick? What does he look like?" She spoke breathlessly.
Cindy shrugged her shoulders. "Have you ever seen your grandmother take her false teeth out of her mouth? It's the same thing when Joe removes his cock. It's like he takes off a wig and you see only a bald strip where they sewed it up after he lost his cock."
Melanie continued to examine a number of dicks in the case. One which particularly struck her fancy she tried on for size; with one hand she opened her cunt while the other ran home the fake penis. She jumped on her feet, swinging the balls. "Oooooh! Oooooooh!"
The big snatch between Cindy's thighs opened like a purse. She bent her knees slightly and reached into Joe's case, retrieving a mammoth dick which she inserted lovingly. Her rump took a small leap, her boobs bounced and the rubber balls swung down by her knees. "Oooooh! Ooooooh! Ooooooh!" she squealed like Melanie. Cindy rattled the joy stick in her twat while writhing her body lecherously. Melanie copied her big-titted friend, dancing on both feet and jabbing the fuck stick home, spearing the sopping vulva like meat on a skewer.
Both girls worked their pussies like demons. Cindy drew her body voluptuously behind Melanie's. Then she twirled on her feet and, faced her; tit slapped tit as each continued to jigger the fuck sticks between their legs, panting and squirming like quarterbacks at the scrimmage until Cindy grabbed the dick in Melanie's snatch and began cranking the slit like an engine. With her other hand she honked the rubber scrotum. Melanie fell on her ass while Cindy cranked like Crazy and Joe's cock opened and spat out the gelatine and suds all over her thighs.
"Are you a little sore there?"
"Very," Melanie said. Her cunt had idled, stalled. The battery was dead. Joe's dick was still sticking out of her snatch but his balls hung flat by her knees. The engine was gone but the body was still in perfect condition. "Let me lick it," Cindy suggested.
"But look at you!" Melanie exclaimed, warmly aroused but not frenziedly so after Cindy's crank job. "You look pretty messed up yourself." She pointed at the fuck stick still projected from Cindy's pussy lips. The whole area around it was bruised where the balls had chafed her thighs. While cranking Melanie she'd climaxed almost simultaneously by working the stick with her thighs into the snatch. "Let me have a look at it," Melanie offered.
Cindy turned away and perched her rump onto a nearby chair. She draped her legs over either side, thrusting forth her pussy and dark belly muff at Melanie's lips which pressed down tenderly. Above the gash of cunt Cindy's boobs arched majestically like the battlements of a mighty fortress. But below, in the moat of her cunt, Melanie's tongue swam soundlessly. The frazzled edge of pussy hair about the vulva showed where Joe's battering ram had done most damage. Cindy popped her head over the ramparts of tit, "Is it bruised there? Badly?"
Melanie detached her lips from the slit but retained her hunkered position before the chair. She cast a studious glance at the pink pulpy hole. Besides the ravaged petals the snatch looked normal. Of course, she had no wide basis of comparison to draw from, her mom's being the only other cunt she'd ever been close to. But unlike her mom's, which normally wore a smile, Cindy's cunt scowled from beneath the pubic wig. "It looks like it's irritated," Melanie said.
Melanie opened the petals wide and peered inside the hole. Then she let the labia settle back to �he normal trenched position in the
) vulva. "Am I bruised like you?" she asked.
Cindy jumped off the chair and invited Melanie to take her place. "I'll have a look at you," she promised while squatting in the bay of Melanie's spread knees. "If you're as sore as I was the first time Joe used the fuck stick you're in trouble." Melanie's pussy sprang free from the confines of her thighs as she pushed her belly out farther. Her voice sounded anxious. "It feels kind of raw when you touch it. I hope he didn't cut it or something."
Cindy reached over to the case next to her squatting thighs. "Here," she said, handing Melanie one of Joe's plastic dongs, "It feels good to hold that while I do you."
And as Cindy's mouth nuzzled her pussy Melanie noticed it did feel good, holding that giant dick-and-ball like a horn to her lips. She clutched the shaft as a child might a pacifier, a familiar object from which she drew both comfort and assurance. But she cautioned Cindy to proceed gingerly, in exploring the battered vulva. "Please, don't use your nails."
Cindy had now squatted directly in front of the chair and stared directly into the gaping fuck hole. From up close it resembled a mashed hamburger pattie, dented in the middle and fatty at the edges. And, when she looked deeper inside the cunt tract after pinning the lips back, she discovered it was even more damaged inside -a pit of chafed cunt flesh that looked as if it'd been dug out with a shovel. The whole area of her crotch from the pubic triangle to the pit of the anus showed the havoc of an overplowed field. The skin everywhere looked devastated, laced with welts and puckered with abrasions. The hair on the pubes lay flat and trampled. The clit stood like a solitary stump amidst the desolation of a ravaged cunt. Cindy whistled between her teeth. "He worked you pretty hard, didn't he?"
Melanie nodded her head. She could look down her crotch past Cindy's hands on her pussy and see the girl's giant knockers hang free between the chair legs. And even though her pussy still felt strained and sore, the touch of Cindy's fingertips was of an excruciating delicacy-a shade of pain which shredded insensibly into pleasure of the most rhapsodic sort. She squirmed her snatch and let out a cry of delight. Her hands gripped the plastic cock until the blood drained from her fingers.
Without quite being aware of it Melanie squeezed the rubber scrotum and released an^ other spurt of gelatine and suds from the slitted cock head. It hit Cindy smack on the nipple of one boob from which it continued to hang pendu-lously, finally shattering onto the knee on which her tit rested. "Watch it," she cautioned, raising her head away from the ecstatically squirming cunt on the chair. "Watch it. Joe gets mad when he slaps on a dick and finds his balls empty. He'll know we've been fooling with them."
When Cindy lowered her head to refocus her attention on the pussy at hand, she managed to twist her torso in such a way that the thick nipple of one breast traced the slit in Melanie's crotch. Melanie moaned, "Oh, I like that." She flung her legs wide over the arms of the chair and let her arms hang down the sides, trailing the plastic dick over the floor. "Please," she panted, "do it again with your nipple. Please."
Cindy was not unfamiliar with the effect her boobs normally had on men. But to watch the response they evoked in Melanie was something altogether different in her experience. Although Joe had frequently urged to she'd never felt much like doing it with girls. Most of the ones she knew she found rather childish and pushy; the few teeny dykes she'd met had turned her off by their aggressiveness. And it was precisely the complete absence of any kind of forcefulness which she found so pleasing in Melanie; the girl was uncommonly passive, pliant, willing and, above all, eager. "Have you ever done this before?" Cindy wondered out loud.
Melanie flung her head back and nodded deliriously. Cindy returned the nipple to her snatch and the same wondrous fuck itch she'd experienced with her mom surged through her loins. While dipping the nipple into the wide open gash, Cindy leaned her jaw onto Melanie's stomach. The underside lobe of the massive tit she was diddling rested on the edge of the seat. Melanie flung her arms high and clapped the fake dick-and-ball like a castanet against the open palm of one hand, "Oh, Cindy! Where did you do this before? This is so good."
Cindy didn't answer but pushed the whole underside lobe of the tit into the fluttering cunt hole. "I've never done this before," she panted. "This is the first time. How am I doing?" She grabbed her other breast and raised her torso slightly, squeezing it alongside the one already glued to Melanie's cunt.
Thus, with two bulging boobs playing in the wide-open crotch on the chair, Melanie fell prey to the most spasmodic seizures. At times Cindy was forced to push her convulsing rump back on the chair after it slid off the edge, crushing the big boobs. Cindy raised her ass and leaned over Melanie's stomach and began to jigger her upper body with the same spastic tremors as the writhing cunt on the seat. The shaking knockers hammered Melanie's twat like a pendulum clock gone crazy-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap.
In her rapidly mounting frenzy, Melanie had placed the head of Joe's dick into her mouth. Biting and gnawing it like a roused kitten, she held it with one hand lodged between her lips while listing her whole body to one side; her arm reached out and plucked another dick from the case on the floor. Cindy shook her tits with convulsive humps of her shoulders. Melanie's cunt dripped between the jazzing tits; her lips slobbered around the fuck stick in her mouth.
Then she introduced the other dick to the rim of her asshole. While Cindy shuddered her tits with a furious rhythm, she reached around Me-anie's rump at the same time and took the shaft of the fuck stick.
Melanie felt as if her whole body had turned into a vagina. Every pore and nerve sizzled like a fuse about to short out. She was ragging her throat with the dick in her mouth; and Cindy was nipple-fucking her clit while jamming the fuck stick up her anus.
Spasm after spasm of delirious fuck itch rocketed Melanie's pussy forward. The two grinding tits squeezed her cunt like an orange. Her mouth bit the plastic cock more ferociously. Suddenly she turned and wrenched the dick out of her asshole, pushing Cindy's hand away. She held it up next to the one still in her mouth and panted between sputtering lips, "Here," she panted, sticking the fuck stick between Cindy's teeth. "Take this."
For a few moments Cindy continued to knead her nipples into Melanie's snatch while mouthing the dick between clamped lips. But soon she withdrew it and inserted it in the hole between her squatting thighs. Thus the same fuck stick had made a virtually complete tour of both girls' orifices-from Melanie's anus to Cindy's mouth and on down to Cindy's cunt. The other dick was still in Melanie's mouth; she held it by the rubber sac and appeared on the verge of squeezing it.
At the very moment Cindy shoved the dick inside her cunt, she squeezed her squatting thighs together and caught the head deep in the womb. The balls lodged between the back of her heels and her rump so that, when the time came, she could trigger them off by bringing her ass down hard. She continued to grind her boobs convulsively against Melanie's crotch, humping and rocking on the plastic fuck stick. She took care not to rock too hard and squeeze the ejaculatory fluid from the sac prematurely; she'd wait with that until she'd come properly in the cunt.
Melanie's sensitive clit, already skinned raw by Joe's previous exertion, was not long in swelling her cunt with the onset of a terrific orgasmic rumble. In the heated tract of her slit Cindy's nippled tits shook spastically. Cindy's upper body was bouncing rhythmically, humping her ass up and down so that the stick popped forth regularly like a jack-in-the-box. Melanie doubled back, scooting her snatch forward while raising her legs high off the seat. Mouthing at the dick between her lips, she clasped first her own boobs and then, pitching forward, clutched those of Cindy between her thighs. Obligingly Cindy leaned her head away to one side so as to allow Melanie to shake the final frantic jiggers loose in her twat.
When Melanie came Cindy found her boobs squeezed to a stand-still between the girl's stiffened thighs and vibrating pussy. The nipple of one tit was held tightly between the clamp of cunt. But where Cindy didn't move in the tits she made more than up for by the wild, convulsive rotations of her ass on her daddy's joy stick which she held bracketed firmly between her thighs. But as the jiggers of orgasmic frenzy ebbed from Melanie's snatch, Cindy felt the cunt-clasp loosen simultaneously around the nipple. Thus she could give herself more fully to the frenzied fury of the fuck stick up her cunt tract.
Cindy began to hump her squatting ass more violently. She felt the huge dong tear into the cervix. And at the same time that Melanie unlocked the tits from between her thighs Cindy felt the first jagged shudders of her exploding pussy.
A moment later, Cindy lay squirming on the floor-one dick stuck in her cunt, the other battering fiercely at the pit of her asshole. Melanie had taken it from her mouth and rammed it up Cindy's dirt track. She turned Cindy onto one side and motioned her to keep one leg raised; this allowed her to stir the fuck sticks simultaneously in both Cindy's snatch and anus. It was a wonderfully lecherous sight: the plastic shafts could be seen protruding from the orifices on either side of Cindy's crotch. The big-titted girl alternately howled and moaned and fitfully sobbed, "Holy m-m-m-mother! Melanie! Ah-aha! Whooeeeee!!! Oh-ahooo!"
While jamming the fuck sticks Melanie took care not to swing the balls too violently; an inadvertent squeeze might trigger them prematurely. She remained seated on her knees in front of Cindy's magnificent spread of tits. But to keep the dicks further impaled in the two crotch orifices she was forced to lean far forward, thus bringing her stomach to rest on the billowing pillow of tit flesh. With her palms clasped around the root of each dick, she stirred the shafts like the rotary blades of an electric blender-a sharp buzzing noise that made all of Cindy's body break out in goosebumps and sustained beeps of frenzy.
Cindy's torso twitched uncontrollably. Her flushed nipples bored into Melanie's stomach. The battering rods in her snatch and anus continued to jazz without let-up. She raised a quavering contralto to indicate the level of her transport, "Don't! Oops! Don't! Do! Go! Don't Please! No! No! Yesss!!! Oh! Now! Later! Yet! Stop! Go-oh-oh! My-y-y-y-y! Eeeeehhhh!"
From her craned position Melanie could see Cindy's cunt like a popsicle on the fuck stick in her twat. It was dripping down her thighs, a frothy cunt batter produced by the stirring cock shaft; part of the juice trickled beneath her crotch in the vicinity of the dick reaming her asshole. This Melanie smeared further around the pit to ease the dryness. Then she squeezed the rubber balls. She could hear the liquid squish up into the tube of the cock shaft. After she'd squeezed it she watched the cunt rim around the shaft and soon saw it brim with the greyish viscous liquid from Joe's scrotum. The same oily coloration soon spread around Cindy's anus after Melanie similarly emptied the balls there. She continued to pump the sacs, enjoying the rhapsodic reactions this produced in the mountainous tits beneath her belly.
Gradually she diminished the force of her jig-gering hands. The balls hung empty and deflated from the root of the dripping shafts. She could see Cindy's snatch as a frightful gash surrounding the plastic of the dick where it entered the pulpy cunt mass. The fuck stick extending from her anus, on the other hand, did not drip and fitted the hole like a finger in a glove. Melanie felt the massive bosom heave against her stomach. Down below, at the other side of Cindy's crotch, she watched the shaft trill like a tuning fork between the cheeks of the girl's rump.
Melanie withdrew her hands from the two dicks so that they stood up independently in both Cindy's orifices. Resting back on her haunches, she asked her if she wished to have the peckers removed. "You look like you're about to be barbecued," Melanie laughed. "You've got the spit running in the cunt and out the ass."
But the words were hardly out of her mouth when she became aware of a violent shove which pitched her backward onto her head. Behind her the door stood open, framing her father on the threshold. In front of her Joe was kicking Cindy's ass. The eerie thing about it was that he didn't speak, but kicked methodically, efficiently and enthusiastically without missing a beat. His hands held the two plastic dicks he'd just wrenched from his daughter's cunt and asshole. He waved them menacingly like a slingshot. "Who gave you permission? Who asked you? Is this what you're trying to do? Embarrass me in front of my friends!"
Cindy moaned on the floor, her face buried in her hands. The force with which her dad had wrenched the shafts from her snatch and anus first made her scream like a stuck pig. Now she was sobbing quietly, alternately clutching the affected areas in her crotch with both hands. She whimpered, "We were just fooling around. We didn't do anything.".
Joe flung the fuck sticks with the deflated sacs onto the floor and tried to avoid Baxter's astonished stare. Finally Baxter moved; he closed the door and put down the grocery bag of beer, pretzels, Cokes, dips, and barbecue chips. But much to Melanie's surprise he ignored Joe completely. Instead he advanced on the hud-dled mass of tit and ass that was Cindy on the floor. Melanie screamed, "No, Dad! Don't! Not that!"
It was too late that Melanie recognized the glittering object in his hands as a pin. By the time she cried out he'd already jabbed it in one of Cindy's breasts.
"Dad! My God! Has everybody gone crazy?"
Melanie jumped to her feet. In her confusion she grabbed one of the dicks and began laying it into Joe's neck. The deflated balls clapped him about the head. He flung up his arms protectively while at the same time Melanie tore down his pants and shorts. "Where's your cock?" she shrieked, walloping the dick more violently about his ears. "You goddamn cheat! Liar! Show me what you got there! Who's Mr. James? Who made up the catalogue?"
Her eyes fixed on the smooth bald strip of crotch between his legs. She had to pinch herself to believe that what she saw was real; the groin without the cock was like a bell tower without a bell. It looked absurd. And the more absurd it looked the angrier she got. But before she could let go with another stream of vituperation she was startled by a sharp gurgling sound behind her. She turned on her heels in time to see one of Cindy's huge knockers shrivel up like a deflated balloon, the nipple dangling miserably in the shape of an empty teat. Then, with a similar gurgling sound, the other boob went flat. Cindy continued to lie on the floor with eyes closed, her hands hiding the two wrinkled peanuts of tit where previously her chest had borne its freight of mammoth mam-maries.
Baxter swivelled his neck several times from Joe's unnaturally smooth groin to Cindy's deflated chest. And each time his eyes bugged. Beneath the furze of pubic hair there was nothing.
The man had no cock! Then he turned to Cindy, letting his gaze rest in amazement at the shrunken pea boobs. The girl had no tits!
He grabbed Melanie by the arm and pulled her brusquely towards the door. He threw a towel around her hips and chest. "Get your clothes on. Let's get out of here. There are things a girl your age shouldn't see."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sun was setting when Baxter and Melanie pulled out of the motel parking lot and picked up the road back to San Francisco. They'd left without granting Joe and Cindy another display of their anger. Baxter, more than Melanie, had been anxious to hurry from the scene of their joint humiliation. Baxter's head reeled. Cindy's tits had been brought to their unnatural size as a result of paraffin and silicone treatment. He'd refused to believe it even after Joe had invited him in the car to put her boobs to the test. The pin had been Joe's idea, too. As much as he tortured his brain Baxter could not comprehend why Joe had made him privy to this knowledge-except perhaps as a form of revenge on Cindy for whatever reason. Baxter, even during their short acquaintance, had not failed to notice a somewhat strained element in the relationship between the two. They were sore at each other and each had succeeded in humiliating the other-for what reason he'd never know.
Melanie sat in silence beside her dad. She felt equally mortified, though she was not angry at Cindy. Joe had forced Cindy to do all the things she did so he could lure little girls with horny fathers like herself. If anyone was to blame it was Joe. "Joe's a bastard," she said in an even tone. "I think we learned something."
It took Baxter a long time to reply. The traffic cruised by them on either side but the car enveloped them in almost unbearable privacy. "I'm very disturbed. Very." Baxter kept his eyes fixed on the road as he spoke. "I can't tell you how disturbed I am. It seems like it's all happening at once. I got problems at the office. Stan's drinking is getting serious so the work piles up on me. Then Joe and Cindy and now you and your mom."
Cindy stiffened. Her hand instinctively cupped the area of her pussy inside the skirt spread over her thighs. She'd just settled back, prepared to forget about the whole thing with Joe. Actually, she'd started to look forward to a good screw with her dad just as he dropped his bombshell. The news hit her like a brick. She felt as if she'd been slugged; a dull ringing noise burst inside her head. "What ..." she mumbled distractedly. "What... about me and mother?"
The cavalcade of Saturday evening traffic rumbled past the window. Melanie looked at the spruced weekend faces in the passing cars and felt light years removed. The girls all had their heads on the shoulders of the guys at the wheel and in the distance, across the bay, the city beckoned with lights, laughter and fun. The cars that whizzed by were filled with hard-charging, tight-assed cock punks and their flirty-dirty teeny fuckers with T-shirts in which the nipples stood out like bottle necks. Melanie sighed, "I feel so old."
"That's because you fuck like a trooper."
Melanie didn't answer. She kept her face pressed to the side window, her back turned to Baxter. The silence between them hung leaden in the car. She was about to answer, then thought better of it. Somehow their conversation turned the most mundane subject into a dirty joke, a coital referent, something that hinted either to his cock, her pussy, or both. Behind their most innocent discourse loomed the frenziedly convulsing shadow of the fuck act. There was no getting away from it, no escaping it.
Besides screwing they shared nothing. Their whole relationship was built like a cream cake around the soft center of her pussy. The only time they rode in tandem was on the flanks of a hot galloping fuck, their differences momentarily resolved in the dizzying rush of their transport. But after the ride was over each returned to his own shell-their conversation, when resumed, centered predictably around the quality of the fuck and how it could be improved or made more exciting.
At times it brought her close to tears. The world was full of things to talk about. Her mind was prey to a million questions. She didn't expect answers. All she desired was a change of subject.
She sighed. All she ever talked about with her dad was screwing. Most fathers discussed all sorts of things with their little girls- things which the little girls would repeat boastfully to their friends as the wisdom of a respected elder. The only thing she had to contribute to such discourse was Baxter's filthy fuck talk and the perversities he'd taught her.
And now it looked as if she were headed the same way with her mom. Since they'd gotten involved with each other everything between them had changed-and not all for the better. In the old days she and her mom used to have good discussions about things that were of interest to a little girl. But no more. Now their conversation consisted of a string of fuck words, erotic speculations, lubricous hints, a compulsive need to go into the most intimate details.
Baxter spoke quietly. "When we get home I want you to tell me everything you've been doing with your mother; how long it's been going on and who started it all. I want to get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing I do."
Melanie's attention jumped to a dizzy blonde in a convertible which cut in front of them and then darted away through spotted gaps in the traffic. She'd seen the guy beside her-a broad-shouldered beach type with bleached hair, a pink moustache and albino eyes. They'd careened past in an orgiastic blare of rock music. For the brief moment the music imploded on her ear Melanie had tapped her feet in time. But when it was gone the wooden thumps of cocktail piano and strings coming over the radio in her father's car sounded more banal than ever. She didn't bother to change the station; the only music her father liked was background music to the fuck act.
They'd come off the Golden Gate and passed the Presidio. The shop fronts, restaurants, parking lots and peculiar Gothic side streets ran for a couple of miles to the stop light at Lombard and Van Ness. Baxter idled the engine and turned the radio down. He fumbled over the seat and ran his hand up Melanie's thigh. He squeezed her pussy. "You must be hungry. We'll have something to eat at home. I prefer a light snack myself."
Again he tweaked her bun through the nylon panties beneath her skirt. For the umpteenth time that evening Melanie sighed, "I'd like something Chinese. There's a food-to-go place on Fillmore."
Baxter dropped his daughter off at the corner of Fillmore and Jackson. "You go home and set the table. I'll get some fried prawn, sweet-and-sour pork, almond chicken, and vegetable chow yuk. Is there something else you'd like?"
Melanie shook her head. The prospect of food heartened her. "That's fine, Dad. I'll first take a bath, though. I feel sticky all over."
While waiting for the light to change one corner down, Baxter considered the complexity of his affairs. Melanie was definitely getting to be a problem. Perhaps it was all too much for her; a question of too much too soon. Perhaps it would do her good to get away for a while from the overheated fuck climate that surrounded her. With a wider circle of friends, a different environment, she might develop new interests and become more like a normal thirteen-year-old.
The light changed and he was about to pull away when a sudden commotion outside the car made him turn his head sharply. The door swung open and shut and a hysterically panting girl hurtled herself forward along the seat. "Step on it! Quick! They've already raped me three times! Please! Step on it! Hurry!"
Baxter heard the sound of running feet approaching the car from behind. As he sped away he caught a glimpse of three leather-jacketed youths piling out of a nearby basement. One of them landed a thumping blow on the trunk before he took off. "Now, tell me," he said, not unkindly, shifting his ass. "What's this all about?"
The girl was a redhead, young and slim with a full-bodied chest. A sprinkling of freckles stippled her nose. She'd folded one leg under a softly rounded ass. Between a polka-dotted bolero and the top of her jeans her stomach was bare; parts of it looked black and blue, the evidence of violent manipulation. Scratch marks, welts, and areas of bruised discolouration showed all over her arms, shoulders, stomach, and down along her neck.
When she raised her head her lips trembled. "Please, can you take me to my girl friend's house? It's on Seventeenth Street between Mission and Guerrero." She opened the top of her jeans and showed Baxter the upper fringe of pussy hair; it was surrounded by scratch marks and smears of blood where the fuck-hungry peckers had savaged her bun. "I was making it with my boyfriend like we do every night." She spoke calmly now but her voice quavered slightly as she recalled the details. "I ... I was sitting on him ... on his dick ... when suddenly these three guys busted in the room. They dragged me off... and ... and-"
Baxter patted the girl's stomach comfortingly. He'd long passed the Chinese restaurant. "Of course, I'll take you to your girl friend." He hung a sharp left and swung off Market Street. He halted the car in the mouth of a dead-end alley and opened the glove compartment, taking out the first-aid kit which he'd never used. "Ill take you to your girl friend, don't worry about that. Let's first worry about the damage and take care of those awful bruises before they get infected."
He squeezed a small tube of burn ointment and dabbed his fingers. His hand then searched out the firm curve of the young girl's stomach. And when he applied the ointment down under the open top of her jeans he felt the curl of wispy cunt hair tickle his fingers. She relaxed visibly the moment he began to rub the affected area. "My name is Doris," she said softly. "What's yours?"
Melanie had just stepped out of the bath when the telephone rang. She dripped water all the way down the hall where she picked up the phone and heard her father's voice bubble like a two-year-old. She cocked the receiver against her neck and wrung out her hair, caring little about the puddles that formed on the floor. "So you'll be home late," she said at last. "I'm going to have a bite to eat and then go to bed. Say hello to Stan. Bye, Dad. Yes. I'll be a good little girl as long as you be a good little daddy. Okay. Bye-bye."
Her dad had run into Stan and they were going to the office to look up a date and make a motion to file a brief or something of the sort. Melanie found it all so confusing. And disappointing. On the one hand she felt relieved that she'd be spared an immediate confrontation over her mom; but on the other she felt sorely let down. As much as at times he nettled her with his obsessive fuck lust she now felt horny and would have suffered him gladly; part of the recompense for having to sit through his questioning would have been the royal screw they'd have afterward. This was what she'd been looking forward to in the bath. A brand-new pussy urge had seized her, at once persistent and inflammable to the stimulation of her lustful thoughts.
Out of frustration she decided to eat. With arms laden with foodstuffs she trotted back and forth from the icebox to the kitchen table where she dumped the provisions and sorted out her favorites-kippered herring, scallions, sour cream, Swiss cheese, endive, sprouts, liver spread, bologna, and peanut butter. These she mashed together in a bowl, mixed in a blender and ran through a strainer until all liquid had been removed and only a bile-colored paste was left. This she scooped up with a spoon and spread over an open slice of bread. She returned to the freezer and took out a popsicle when the telephone rang again.
On her way down the hall she peeled the popsicle and began to suck it. She expressed surprise at the sound of her mother's voice when she picked up the receiver. "Mom!" she exclaimed. "Mom! I told you not to call. Dad's already getting suspicious."
Tania's voice cut her short. "Is he there?"
"No. It just so happened he called just before you did. He went back to the office with Stan. He said he'd be late."
The receiver tinkled with Tania's squeals of pleasure. "I'll be right over. I've got to see you. I'm calling from a bar in North Beach. Please, don't say anything now. I'll be right over."
Melanie's protest backfired with the click of the telephone on the other end of the line. She returned to the kitchen and placed the half-nibbled popsicle by her plate and dug her teeth into the sandwich. She'd finished it and almost cleared the table when the doorbell rang. Only when she opened the door to admit her mother and she caught the night chill around her ass did it occur to her that she was still naked as a jaybird. Then she turned to face her mother, "You shouldn't have done that. This is really dangerous. He might come home."
"Hush, child. Let me look at you."
Tania's hands were hot upon her. She felt herself being twirled on her heels and when she faced her mother again she noticed that her coat had been unbuttoned so that her black cunt bush, the naked sweep of her stomach and the full-lobed tits impressed themselves upon her startled gaze. "Mom! You're not wearing anything under your coat! Did you go out this way? Do you do that all the time?"
"No, of course I don't go out like this all the time." Tania pouted her mouth sensuously. "Only on special occasions. It was funny, though. Earlier, I was sitting in this bar on Columbus and this horrible man next to me kept trying to paw inside my coat." She laughed, rolling her boobs. "One time he grabbed hold of my cunt hair and got this expression on his face as if he'd just eaten shit. I told him I was wearing an angora skirt and got out of there fast. So here I am."
Melanie needed no further persuasion: There her mom was all right. Big as life. She'd forgotten how good she looked-the long, firm tapered thighs and the full-lipped snatch wearing its skull cap of pussy growth; the broad, hilly expanse of her belly and the majestically overhanging tits. But above all it was the out and out lechery, the unbridled concupiscence, the hot lust which she read in every one of her mother's movements; these above all were the elements that made her go weak in the knees as if the sex energy exuded by her mom was a crippling ray that sapped her strength. Melanie felt herself mellow palpably; a covey of butterflies fluttered loose in her stomach and her head swam dizzily.
"Not here, Mom. Please, not here. Not in the hall. Let's go upstairs."
Tania cast her coat to the floor and kicked off her shoes. Then she whirled her nude body on her daughter and backed her against the wall. Their nipples rubbed and crackled static. Tania butted the bony ridge of the mons against Melanie's, prying the little girl's legs apart with each lunging bump-and-grind of her groin. At the same time Tania reached down between her own things; she drew out the vulva lips, kneading them furiously over the teeny cunt slit while Melanie sank slowly to the floor.
In the dim light of the hall Tania gently lowered the fuck-flushed body of her daughter onto the coat spread on the floor. "We'll go upstairs right away after this," she whispered. "I've been thinking of you all day today and last night." She lowered herself on hands and knees over the passive figure on the floor and placed her head between the spread thighs.
Melanie responded to the first stroke of her mother's tongue with a convulsed shudder of the pussy. Her body began to thrill like a violin as Tania rasped the bow of her tongue in varying meter over her clit. This was different from Joe's fake fuck stick and Cindy's nipple screw. She fluttered her lashes at the dark ceiling and began to hum pleasurably. The broad beam of Tania's buttocks was a white expanse at a distance from the worrying head between her legs. Melanie stretched herself voluptuously. No one, not even Baxter, came close to producing the wondrously rhapsodic harmony of mouth and cunt which came so effortlessly to her mom.
