Lucy had fed on the fantasies of her new and handsome stepfather's strong, muscular body all day, picturing his knit trousers clinging to the bulky curve of virile meat between his legs, pretending she was her mother for just a few moments, feeling the fierce frustration of wanting so badly to touch and lick the sensuous hardness of it, and having no access to him.
But the young girl knew it would be different if he was hers, instead of her mother's. The fucking between them, if he belonged to her, would be total and honest, not ending abruptly at ejaculation, but subsiding into a deep throbbing as their bodies would lie with warm contact between the surfaces, his hard muscles and her soft, teen-age flesh seeming to melt, and their organs and blood seeming to float into one another, their bodies and minds rocking in unison.
The telephone in her room rang, and she reached across the bed to pick it up.
"Hello," the male voice on the other end said. She didn't answer, feeling foolish. Who could it be? "Is anyone there?" the voice went on, a deep voice like rose thorns dipped in honey.
"Yes. This is Lucy. Who is this?"
"Does it matter?" he said.
She blinked at his question.
"Do you feel all hot and bothered tonight, sweet little cock-teaser?"
The voice was being disguised, she knew that much. But somehow ... a familiar ring to it. A lump stuck in her throat.
"What do you want?" she blurted out.
"I want you to ask for it," he continued.
"Ask for what?" she replied, feeling dumb.
"You want to get fucked don't you?" he said, a tiny leer showing up in his voice now.
She became aware that she was sitting on her bed, wearing only her panties. The silly thought stroked at her mind, wondering if the voice could see her as well as talk to her. With her free hand she absent-mindedly reached up and brushed the nipple of one breast. She felt she had been walking along the shallow bottom of a swimming pool and had suddenly stepped into a deep hole. She could find nothing to say.
"Who are you? Do I know you?" she finally got out.
"Me? I'm the guy who's got the biggest cock you ever imagined in your young life, honey. I like cunt, especially when it's juicy and fresh like yours. Til eat your pussy for hours. Ill have you kicking your legs in the air. Ill chew on it and lick it, and slurp it up when it drips. That's who I am."
His words pressed heavily on her breasts and she sank more deeply into the pillows. Her knees began trembling and she let her soft, white thighs fall open. She could see some un-f aced great brute body on top of her, an immense cock jamming her mouth, being drippingly stroked down over her hard-nippled breasts, then lying heavily across her cunt.
"Silence, hmm?" the smooth voice went on in her ear. "Thinking about it? You want it, don't you? I can tell by how you're breathing. What woman doesn't want to be fucked? And you're a woman now, Lucy. You know that, don't you. You can feel that lately, can't you? No more little girl. A woman!"
Another ridiculous thought, and she didn't know where it had come from . . . wondering if nature had fashioned that thick pulsating organ called a 'cock' for just the simple purpose of snugly filling a yearning vessel called a cunt...?
Til give you ..." the man's voice went on, "all the things you think are dirty. I'll have you so hot you'll be licking the floor and sucking my feet, begging me to let you suck the head of my cock until it bleeds. You'll want to rub your eyelashes in the hair around my dick. You'll want to chew on my nipples while I suck on yours."
Her mind half on his words, half on her imagined pictures, Lucy began to rub her pussy through the moistening silk of her panties. She felt the hardness of the mound, the softness of the lips under it. The warm flush of pleasure charged her belly and her fingers started to move in circles over her clit, a pinky reaching down into the musty places between her buttocks. As she finger-fucked, she wondered for an instant if whoever it was at the other end of the line was masturbating. Her tongue slid from one side of her mouth to the other. But who was he? A force without a face. His voice took on a tone of suave calm. "Frigging yourself, little Lucy? Don't worry, youll have the real thing soon. The real thing. My nice, hot cock inside your sweet young mouth. Soon, Lucy. Soon.**
And then he hung up.
She felt as if someone had stuck a long rusty pin into her. She still held the phone in her hand; the only sound in the room was her deep breathing.
She lay back on the pillow and thought of cherries with whipped cream on them, of men's muscled thighs, and balls of all sizes and shapes. Of pricks erect and pricks soft. Of warm lava flowing in and out of her body from all entrances and exits, mouth, cunt, asshole, nostrils, ears.
She tried to put a face with the voice. Who could it have been? The tall skinny guy at school that was always ogling her legs? No. His voice was changing and he never could have pulled off that sexy monotone.
The owner of the bowling alley-a round-bellied little Italian with oily skin, who once fisted his balls and cock and juggled them at her? No. The voice was far too sophisticated. Mitch, her mother's new husband? Oh God! If it only could be true! No, that was too much to hope for. But why did she know that deep, smooth voice?
Could it be the mechanic at the gas station who had once, a few months before, waited in on her by mistake when she was sitting, legs spread, on the throne in the ladies room? No. Poor guy, he must still be blushing red to this day.
Suddenly she felt guilty, dirty. She shook her head, grabbed a towel and rushed out in the hall, ducking into the bathroom for a nice, hot, clean shower, wanting to wash her brain as well.
Lucy rubbed the towel beween her legs. The edge of the towel slipped between her cunt lips, and the girl felt a shudder flutter down her legs. She cupped the towel against the mound of her young, sweet-smelling cunt, pressing it firmly there. She closed her eyes and dreamed of the man in the room down the hall sucking that cunt madly, licking his tongue over it, into it, chewing at the now-swelling clit. She was fresh out of her shower, and on the bathroom door was- a full-length mirror. Her hair was wet, her young breasts firm and solid, over-developed for a fifteen-year-old. Her waist was slim and flat. A few more years would fill her hips out to a womanly flare. Her nipples were erect and brown. The towel draped down in white folds between her open legs. In the mirror she could just see a few wet hairs near the edge of her steaming pussy lips, curling out from under the flesh of her soft thigh, which was dampening with girl-juices. She dropped the towel and stared at her cunt. It was a broad and wide mound. She brought her hand back to the clammy pussy and put her index finger just above the inward curve of the mound, in the middle of her warm cunt, barely slipping the tip of the finger into the wet slit between the lips, and touching the bud of her clit, still picturing strong, white male teeth nibbling there. A burning warmth made her knees tremble.
She began to rotate her hips, pushing her cunt up against the moving fingers. She saw her hips pumping in and out in the mirror. Her stomach muscles undulated, her tits jiggled just enough to make the beads of water gathered there spill over her burning-tipped nipples. She caught a glimpse of the dirty-clothes hamper in the corner of the bathroom. She took her dripping finger out of her pussy and opened the hamper, looking in. She sorted, with - excited fingers, through the musky, dirty clothing, feeling her excitement building in the pit of her stomach. Finally she found what she wanted, and she pulled them from the pile.
It was a pair of her new stepfather's undershorts.
The fifteen-year-old girl put the shorts up to her nose and inhaled deeply. She could smell the sweatiness of the handsome man's youthfully strong body. She rubbed the material over her hot tits, sliding it down over her body until it rubbed between her legs, slid smoothly over her burning cunt. She held the white material against her cunt lips, masturbating herself with it, using the shorts under her fingers, rubbing them against the red and swollen clit in rapid strokes. Her head spun with the thought that her cunt was pressed against the spot where her new Daddy's cock and balls had been, where his hard-on must have swelled, where perhaps driplets of his come had oozed. Did he stick his big prick through the opening and fuck her mother while he was wearing them? The idea drove Lucy wild with excitement. She pictured him plunging that beautiful cock up her own asshole, and that tight asshole twitched with the hurting pleasure of that thought. She closed her eyes and imagined her thirtsy lips sucking furiously on his cock, her tongue lapping at his balls, licking, swathing, devouring all of him, his prick growing harder and bigger inside her hungry mouth, and the taste of his salty come in the back of her throat. And then, in her mind's wild imaginings, his athletic, muscled body smothering over hers, her inner cunt walls bathed totally by his enormous, throbbing prick-meat, pussy juice warming it all, clasping on his steady in-and-out cock strokes, draining that big tool to its bursting point. And her lips sucking at his, then up along his tanned cheek, then her tongue delved in his ear as he fucked her and fucked her and fucked her until her brain was a madly ticking bomb of explosive dynamite, ready to blow. The shorts were balled in her hand now and she was stuffing them into her cunt, taking all of them that would fit past the slippery gushes of her own Sowings.
The shorts were drenched and her hips were bucking wildly. In the bathroom's silence she whispered softly, "Oh fuck me! Fuck my insides out! Pump my cunt and blast your wad of come back into me until I choke on it!" Her teeth were gritted together, hissing out the beautiful dreams. A flutter of panic raced through her brain, as she almost hypnotically felt... FELT! that shot of his warm come explode inside her, blasting her with lovely come-heat, shocking her brain, convulsing her body into mad squirmings of lust.
Lucy's orgasm seemed to start at the top of her head and shake itself down inside her tits, through her straining belly, down her legs and back up them again, finally flooding out her cunt with a blast of hot ooze. Even then, when it was over, she pictured that ooze spreading hotly down over the full sacs of his balls, running down and into his asshole.
She tried to breathe but didn't want to interrupt the growing flow toward still another orgasm. Her hand flew faster between her thighs, her pelvis rocking up and down, and her belly clutched and released in another series of spasms. Her eyelids fluttered, nostrils snorting. A knock on the bathroom door! "Are you going to be long?" Lucy dropped the shorts as though they were contaminated. She recognized the voice calling through the door-it was Mitch!
"No-o!" She stuttered. "I'll be out in a moment." Panic seized her for the moment, all thoughts of sex dissipating. She dashed over to the hamper with the damning evidence balled up in her hands. But then a new feeling came over her: a calmness. She felt confident and relaxed. Lucy walked erectly over to the door and opened it. Mitch was standing there, waiting. He smiled and she yawned. The yawn came out stiff and false. She felt sure he knew.
"Hi, Lucy. Hard to-find a free John around here with you and your mother crowding traffic. Be more soon, too, what with your cousin Mary coming to live with us, eh?"
"Guess so," Lucy said humbly, and rushed by him.
"Fern . . . errr . . . your mother, I mean, is pretty good people to take the girl in. Poor kid, has no one else in the world." Mitch said it and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Fern had three problems. Two she knew about, one she didn't. The first problem was that her hotly throbbing pussy was moist and craving for attention, or to be more direct, yearning for the thick, stiff plunge of her husband's lengthy prick. His name was Mitch, and she had been married to him for two months, but she was already addicted to his torrid fuckings. She was thirty-six years old, but kept younger-looking by her first two husbands' money, in each case left to her upon their deaths. Mitch, her third husband, was ten years younger than she, and built like a Greek god. At the moment his hand was dallying between her legs under the table at lunch, adding to her cunty concentration.
Fern's second problem was that her niece, Mary, recently orphaned by her parents' death, was coming to live in the plush penthouse with them. The girl was seventeen, and Fern feared the farmgirl from Indiana might be a bad influence on her own fifteen-year-old daughter, Lucy.
And Lucy was the third problem, the problem Fern was unaware of. The teenager had a case of the mad "hots" for her new stepdaddy, Mitch. At the moment, she had some action going under the table too, teasing her bare toes against Mitch's ankles, while her fingers scratched at his knee.
Mitch was broke when Fern married him, but that lovely cock and his educated tongue working in her twat were all she asked of him in exchange for the life of ease she was giving him. She hadn't even taken his name when they'd been married, even though Greaves had once been a respected one in New York society. That had offended him, but he'd said nothing about it. He was at least smart enough not to complain, and he did know it was his body she was after, not his name and the glories of his past family. He had a fringe of golden curls on his muscular chest and a denser thicket of the same at his loins. His arms and shoulders were powerful, but she'd trained him not to use that strength unless she specifically called for it. His waist was slim but very powerful and his buttocks stood out in back almost like a woman's, so tightly packed with muscle were they. These thrusting muscles she called on regularly, and he never failed to use them to her satisfaction; although he knew little of matters of finance, he. did know how to fuck. And he had the tool for it. Fully hard, as it was now, his prick was close to ten inches long, proportionately thick, proportionately fitted with a heavy sac of balls. He was uncircumcised, again like the ancient Greeks.
Young Lucy's little pussy was brimful of juice and swollen with desire by the time lunch was over and her mother led Mitch away to the bedroom for her afternoon session with that lovely cock of his. On previous afternoons, Fern had sucked on it at great length, even though this too was an act which had been made distasteful to her by her former, demanding husbands. But it was so beautiful that once she'd started, she hadn't been able to stop for a long time. She'd sucked and chewed on it, heedless of his thrashings, gorging herself on the cock she'd bought with her money. The last time she'd gone too far, been too drunk, and it had resulted in an ejaculation in her mouth. She'd berated him for that, and it had cured her of the need for fellatio again for a long time. Naked, he approached her again, and she saw that she had already excited him to the point where a drop of clear seminal fluid was oozing from the mouth of his big, upright prick. She excited him further by allowing him to nuzzle at her ear and rub his cock against her hip while he unbuttoned her robe. She ran her hand over it with a light, fluttering caress, and she enjoyed his eager pantings as he got his soft, well-trained hands inside the robe and onto her naked breasts. She turned her head to look in the mirror as he slipped the robe off her shoulders, and the view was every bit as thrilling as his touches. This was how things should be, with a gorgeous man attending worshipfully to the needs of an even more gorgeous woman. She made the scene even better by saying, "Get down on your knees to take off my panties, darling."
He gladly did so. She ruffled his hair as he rolled them, then drew them down, pressing his warm lips to her smooth white flesh as he went. She twisted her hips and placed a finger on her left buttock when he had the panties down to her knees, and she said, "Do you think I'm putting on some weight here?"
The downward course of the panties was at once forgotten, and he was kissing and fondling that perfectly formed mound of flesh, and ardently saying, "Your ass is just perfect. All of you is, and you never gain an ounce. Fern, you're the most beautiful woman in the world.''
"If that's an ass," she said, bumping it harder against his face, "it makes you an ass-kisser, doesn't it? And that's not a very nice thing for a man to be."
"Fd be an ass-kisser for the rest of my life, with an ass like this to kiss. I want to be just that. Let me be that, Fern. I adore you so."
"Mmm. But you'd rather kiss my pussy, wouldn't you?"
"Yes. Oh, God, I can't get enough of that. Not ever!"
Thus reminded of her mood, he quickly took her panties off, coming around on his knees before her as he did to cover her black-thatched loins with eager kisses. She finished her drink and enjoyed the combination of its cold heat and the liquid heat that was starting to flow in her pussy. She waited until she felt that first sweet tingle of tongue-against-clit before she ruffled his hair again and walked to the oversized bed.
There was a mirror above it, and she arranged herself artfully on her back with her hair like a dark halo around her lovely face and her shapely limbs gracefully outspread. In the mirror she watched him follow on his knees, gazing hungrily at the juncture of her legs. As he neared the bed, she drew up one knee to give him more than just a glimpse of pink and ready flesh, and he dutifully ignored it, hard as that was, and began with his lips on her knee.
Her breasts were perfect, just perfect. They were just large enough to be taken to her mouth, where she could savor the texture of her firm nipples with her tongue, but this was something Fern rarely did, for it stretched those lovely mounds just a bit too much, and she did not wish to break down their tissues just for the sake of a little added pleasure. She stroked and kneaded them lightly, though, while his kisses traveled in a zigzag pattern up her legs, and as his mouth approached her loins, her hands toyed down her body, sampling it here and there, enjoying this languorous lovemaking more and more.
Her hands were there to meet his mouth. Her red-tipped fingers splayed out and pulled back the delicately heavy lips of her vulva, presenting to him what was probably the most perfect cunt in the world. She had had cosmetic surgery here, too, for at an early age she had realized that a woman's cunt should be just as perfectly formed as her face. There were no flaccid tissues in her cunt, no loosely hanging lips, and with the sheath from her clitoris diminished by the scalpel, "-��-. . �
she too could enjoy the benefits of the plastic surgeon's art. Opened out as it was by her ringers, it was ten square inches of the most sensitive flesh of one of the world's most beautiful women, and her adoring and very fortunate husband paid that flesh its due.
He began by smacking kisses over every bit of that ten square inches, seeking to set every nerve ending atingle, and succeeding at this. The loudness of his kisses was vulgar, but even Fern could enjoy vulgarity when she was firmly in charge of it. Then he licked her there all over, sliding his hands over her hips and under her buttocks as he did, and very obviously savoring the taste of her most feminine flesh. He rimmed his tongue about in the orifice of her vagina just a bit too quickly, and she mildly admonished him.
"Slowly, dear. Are you in a rush for something?"
*Tve got all the time in the world, for you," he said, and she smiled as he started again, nibbling at her lips with his, kissing her cunt, licking it.
A knock came at the door, but he didn't stop. She called out impatiently, "What is it?"
"Mr. Nestor on the phone," said Sarah the cook. "He says it's important."
Everything her attorney had to say was important, at least in his opinion. "Tell him I'm already involved in something more important than what he's got in mind. Tell him to call me later."
Fern quickly got back into the mood of things by using just one hand to spread her moistening cunt, and using the other to caress her breasts. She molded them with her fingers and plucked and tweaked at the dark coral nipples, and she scissored her legs and opened them wider for her young husband's cunt-lapping. The curly masculine head she saw in the mirror seemed to enhance her own loveliness, seemed to belong right where it was between her beautiful legs.
"Now show me how long your tongue is, Mitch," she said, and she came very close to coming when he quickly moved down and thrust several inches of warm, thick tongue up inside her vagina.
For the second time that afternoon, he had moved too quickly, but being sympathetic with his vast eagerness to please her, she did not admonish him again. His slurpings were very loud now, as he dipped his tongue into her hole at an increasingly frenzied pace, quite beside himself in his blind need to lick up and swallow all he could of her sweet, musky sex juices. At the same time he was bumping her clit with his nose and working his fingers into her haunches in such a way that she could have come at any time. She held back, wanting to make it a big one when it happened. It was easy for her to hold back, just as it had always been easy to feign having an orgasm when she'd served her time as the eager young bride of those foolish old men. She could go on for hours like this, hovering right at the ragged edge of an orgasm, existing in a world of fuzzy pink ethereal beauty where the problems of parenthood, visiting relatives, her investment program, were completely unreal. Only this was real, the hands wanting to possess her, the tongue trying to devour her, and the totality of pleasure that she so richly deserved there in her bed, high above the city and its masses.
He was panting with the prolonged effort, but still as avid as ever to please her. She liked the feeling of his hot breath rushing through his nostrils to further sear her scalding tissues and she wanted to feel his tongue in her vagina longer, deeper. She mentally toyed with the idea of asking her doctor if cosmetic surgery could be used to lenghten his tongue, but she knew it was impossible. Furthermore, it was unnecessary, for his tongue was now more than good enough to bring her to orgasm, and what more than orgasm could a woman ask?
He was getting tired now, but more importantly, she was getting a little tired of holding back. "Suck on my clit now," she said, and took a handful of his curls to help guide his mouth up there.
It felt ready to quite literally burst. He encircled it with his lips and sucked, greatly increasing that feeling of impending explosion, and gently laved the rigid little digit with his tongue. She let her orgasm begin to flow. She was even more beautiful in the mirror now, made so by the roseate glow of her complexion, the complexion of a woman who is being thoroughly loved. Sensing the bursting in her, Mitch increased the swirlings of his tongue and waggled his head from side to side so that his lips burrowed deeper in the overflowing pink trench of her cunt. He was whipping her clit with his tongue now, and now as her orgasm burst forth in all its glory, she let him share in her good feelings. "Oh, yessss. Darling, that's wonderful. You're making me come with your lovely kissess, and oh, it feels so deliciously good. You may suck just a little harder, love. Yesss. You know what my pussy loves best, don't you? Dear sweet Mitch, it's so good now that I can hardly stand it. Right now! Right now I am right at the peak, right up there in Heaven, love. Ahhh. Yes. Yes, lick it all over now and let me down easy, easy. Mmmmm. Sweet man. Lick it all up, dear, it's all yours. And I'll still be all slippery and nice for you to slip your wonderful big cock in me. Ahhhhh. Ahhh."
She relaxed, letting her feet slip off the edge of the bed, stretching lazily. He remained where he was, catching his breath, with his cheek laid against her inner thigh to wring the last few drops of pleasure from her orgasm with his warm breath on her very open vulva. Fern always liked to have at least one orgasm every day, and this had been the first of this day for she'd been too hung over that morning to start with sex before she got out of bed. Waiting until early afternoon had been trying on her, but now she was glad she'd waited. The long anticipation had made her orgasm that much better, and of course, the waiting had made Mitch that much more eager to please her. Now he would want to fuck her, and although it would be most pleasant to have his cock in her, it would also ruin this mood of total, luxurious peace she was experiencing. She decided it would be better for both of them to wait until evening and start anew.
She lay there, basking in contentment, and when he began to move, she said, "Darling, I've worked tip a terrible thirst. After you wash your face and brush your teeth, be a dear and make me another martini."
"Sure, honey," he said, on his feet now, looking down at her hungrily, although his cock had for the moment deflated. As soon as he'd gone into the bathroom, she curled up on her side and went to sleep.
Chapter Two
Mitch took his time in the bathroom, and when he emerged in his white satin robe, he saw that his wife was asleep, and he grinned. His tongue was sore to the root, for he'd given the old doll a workout with it, and between that and the drinks she'd had this morning, it was safe to say she'd sleep for a couple of hours. Still, he wasn't taking any chances.
Very quietly, he left the bedroom and went to the bar in the living room, where he meticulously began mixing Fern's cocktail. He could just see the top of Lucy's head. She was sitting in the big, glove leather chair, looking out at the smoggy city. She knew he was there behind her, but she didn't turn around. She was sulking. She was good at that.
"How was the lunch I missed, Lucy?" he said.
"Probably better than the one you had," she answered, not turning.
She almost surely knew he went down on her mother, but she probably didn't know how much. She certainly didn't know that he'd licked her mother's pussy so much in the past few months that he could scarcely stand the sight of it, although the sight of Lucy's sweet young pussy would be an entirely different matter. She wasn't dumb, and she wasn't innocent. He was sure she'd peeped at him and Fern during their lovemaking, and hi fact he'd encouraged this by leaving the door slightly ajar on those occasions when he knew Fern was going to let him fuck her. At the time he'd told himself that he just wanted to give the kid a thrill, but now he knew there was nothing like seeing his magnificent body in action to break down a girl's reserves. Seducing her was a foolhardy and dan-gerous undertaking which might lead to his eviction from this sybaritic existence, but then again, what was life anyway without a few risks thrown in? Still, he must reduce those risks to a minimum.
He called for Sarah, and when she came from the kitchen he said, "I have a craving for some of that good, hard Italian salami, the kind they carry at Buo- nicotti's on Tenth Street. Have Nelson run you down there and pick some up, will you? Do it now."
"Yes, Mr. Greaves," she said. "Do you know if Mrs. Harley can call Mr. Nestor back? He sounded like it was awful important."
"Mrs. Harley is resting now. That, and my salami, are more important than Mr. Nestor's telephone call. Will you go now?"
"Yes, sir," she said, and with a look of mild disgust on her moon face, she went back toward the kitchen, removing her apron.
Half of Lucy's face appeared over the back of the chair. Her hazel eyes were wide with hope and with fear, and Mitch winked at her and bore the drink on a silver tray to where he hoped his wife would still be sleeping.
She was, and he smiled. He set the tray down and quietly went into the bathroom again. He slightly ruffled the hair he'd just combed to give it more of the bedroom look, and he slapped a little after-shave around his loins. He examined his face closely for blemishes, and finding none, he left the bathroom with confidence that the servants were by then gone from the penthouse. He took the cocktail with him.
Lucy was still in the big chair. He took the tray to her and held it before her, saying, "Your mother is taking her afternoon nap, so you may as well drink this. Go on, Lucy. Take it. After all, you've got to live up to your reputation of being naughty."
"Like mother, like daughter?" she said, her hazel eyes smoldering angrily beneath drooping, long-lashed lids. "Well, I don't want to be like her."
"In some ways, she's not so bad. In fact, you'd be doing well to emulate her in some ways."
She picked up the drink and sipped it, squirming about in the big chair, still looking up at him. He put the tray on the floor and sat down on the chair arm, smiling back at her. "Did Sarah and Nelson already leave?"
"I guess so." She was dressed in a tie-dyed tank top and raggedly cut-off jeans, both of which were quite tight. She could have been one of the many little teeny-boppers he saw walking the summer sidewalks
New York, had it not been for the stemmed crystal glass in her hand and the eight-hundred-dollar platinum watch on her wrist.
"You guess so?" he said. "You don't know if we're alone or not?" As he said it, he shifted to allow his robe to slide open, exposing much of the golden-fleeced leg she'd been scratching so recently, and he was gratified when her gaze involuntarily nickered down to it briefly.
"I know she's still here," Lucy said, nodding her head in the direction of the bedroom.
"And sleeping very soundly."
He'd been feasting his eyes on that trim little figure beside him. She was half-girl, half-woman-and all appealing. She might never be the raving beauty her mother was, but she had a highly stimulating aura of vitality about her that was not entirely due to her youth. She was still growing. Her knees were a bit too knobby and her calves and thighs too slim, but they looked very good to him, deeply tanned and able to stand up to hours of dancing to her kind of music. Her hips were slim and her waist was absolutely tiny, but the pubic bulge in those faded jeans was quite prominent and beckoning. He was almost sure she wasn't a virgin. Her breasts were small, nothing more than titties, but they were well-shaped already under that thin covering of brightly-colored cotton knit, and they were unsupported by a bra, as he had seen through the large armhole in the flimsy little garment. He ached to see them, to see all of her naked, but he only glanced at her covered body and kept smiling at her face. It was a pretty one, heart-shaped, with a tiny little chin that was a bit too sharp, and a saucily unturned nose. Her eyes were every bit as good as her mother's and her mouth was even better, devoid of lipstick, glowing delicately pink against her tan, the lips delectably full and soft-looking. Her dark brown hair had a slight curl to it so that it was very thick and full. It hung to well below her shoulders and fanned out from her head, making her face look smaller. She was a damned pretty girl, but perhaps the best thing about her just then was the way she kept nervously fidgeting beside him. That and the flush of desire that showed through her tan, and that fullness of lip and heaviness of eye that she could not conceal. His eye-feasting was producing the desired results. His cock was rising, and he helped it along by a casual shifting of it with his hand through the satin that covered it. She jumped when he touched her head. "What are you so nervous about?"
"Who's nervous?" she said, gulping the potent drink now.
"You are. Christ, at lunch you. couldn't even keep your hands to yourself. What is it you're after, little girl?"
"Nothing," she said, dropping her gaze to the growing bulge in his robe. "And don't call me a little girl."
He was enjoying himself, enjoying the teasing immensely, but now it was time to take a bolder step, one that would once and for all set the tone of their future relationship, with him firmly in the dominant role. "These are still pretty little," he said, and reached down and tweaked one of those little titties.
She'd jumped when he'd touched her head, and now she almost vaulted out of the chair. But immediately she clasped his hand against her tittie and pressed her hot cheek against his arm, murmuring, "Oh, Mitch. Oh, Mitch!"
"Whaf s the matter, babe?" he smoothly said, enveloping all of that little breast in his hand and squeezing it harder than he was permitted to squeeze Fern's/ "What's the matter? Aren't you getting enough from Robert?"
"He's a creep compared to you. You're the one I want, but she's got you."
"She doesn't have me now," he said, rolling her other breasts in his hand, and marveling at the hardness of her nipples. They were so little, they seemed to be all nipple, and he longed to lift her shirt and look at them, but he was easily able to play it his way with her, to play it cool for himself and not for her. He chuckled and took his hand away and said, **Oh hell, even if you had me, honey, you wouldn't know what to do with me."
"I would!" she said, flushed with indignation as well as lust now, and she placed a trembling hand on his bare knee. "I'm not as dumb as you think I am."
"Has Robert been getting in your pants?"
"Yes," she said, all defiance now. "And there've been others too."
"So you've fucked a few boys. Big deal. But I'm not a boy, Lucy," he said, and frankly handled the pole that was forming that satin tent in his lap. He could see she wanted to touch it herself, but her fear prevailed over her lust. As she stared at that massive bulge, undecided now, he laughed and said, "Let's stop kidding ourselves. You're just a kid and I'm a man ... a big man. Hell, I'll bet you don't even have any hair yet."
"Oh, yeah? I sure do," said she, and tossed off the rest of the strong drink.
"Show me, baby. Show me that at least a part of you is grown," he said, and he took his hand from her tittie to flip open the top bottom of her jeans.
She sat there for several seconds, panting, looking down at where he'd exposed an inch of her very flat tummy. Then she quickly jumped up, tearing the cutoffs open the rest of the way and wriggling her hips quickly from side to side as she pushed them down to mid-thigh. She was very white there from her bikini, and just as he'd known, the smooth bulge of her pube was covered with a layer of thin, black hair. It was so adolescently thin that it did not conceal the deep cleft that terminated abruptly in the plumpness there.
Grinning crookedly, he beckoned her closer with his finger, his middle finger, held right at the level of her loins. She tried to slink forward but her movements were jerky now with her rising lust. It had a good, strong hold on her. With her shaking hands on her hips, she came at him until his thick finger was wriggling its way into that tight, wet little slit and her agile little tongue was pushing its way into his mouth. Holding onto his shoulders, she made little mewing sounds as he kissed her and delved about in that fresh young cunt. He kept it up until her nails were digging painfully into his arms and her mewings were very urgent, and then he pushed her away.
"That's about enough, Lucy. We don't want to get in any trouble."
"There won't be any trouble, d-darling. The servants are gone and Mother's asleep. Mitch, we just can't stop now!"
"You're right. There's one more thing I have to do. Stand right there."
He got off the chair arm and squatted down before her, running his hands down the sides of her quivering body as he did. With his thumbs, he parted the cleft in her pube, and with his tongue, he tasted the hot creaminess of her cunt. "Oh! Oh!" she yipped, her hands shaking in his hair, her buttocks jerking and jumping under his hands. Sore as his tongue was, he still wanted to eat this fine little pussy to completion, for he was sure that his was the first tongue ever to touch it. He refrained, though, for that was not part of his plan.
She wilted against him when he rose, and he had to tilt her face up to kiss her again. She stiffened momentarily when his cunty tongue pushed into her mouth, and then the mewings began anew and she was clutching her lithe little body against the big hard thing between them.
A minute or so of that, and he would have shot, for it had been a horny day so far. So he pushed her away, difficult as that was, and spoke soothingly to her:
"Thanks, Lucy. That tasted awfully good. I hope that one taste of you will last me till you're a few years older." He turned as if to walk out on the terrace.
She at last grabbed at his cock, and blurted, "Wait! I'm old enough now. Do it to me. You can't stop now!"
He kept going. Behind him, he heard her curse and stumble. Looking back, he saw her hopping after him on one foot, trying to tug the jeans off as she came. He was lighting a cigarette at the parapet when she got to him, grabbing at him, trying to turn him around. "Mitch, don't stop, don't turn off. I'm old enough now for you to do it."
"To do what?" he said, looking out at the city.
"To make love to me. To ... to fuck me. Please, Mitch!"
That word almost melted him, but in the aftermath of his momentary weakness came a greater strength, a surer knowledge that the girl would be his, on his terms.
Her efforts to turn him about had loosened the sash of his robe, and as he yielded to the pressures of her hands and turned around he opened the robe to unveil his very large, very hard erection. She was so eager to throw herself into his arms that its contact with her bare belly was the first she knew of its nakedness. Then she clung to him with both arms about his neck, looking drunker than she was, and feeling the immen- sity of the throbbing organ she wanted inside her diminutive body. He pushed her away and together they looked down at it. It was visibly throbbing.
"Honey, there's no way in the world I could get that into your pussy."
"Yes, there is! Try! Women... women stretch."
"Not that much," he said, and crouching, he took his prick in hand and pointed it at her cunt.
She tried to climb it in her eagerness, not even thinking about how much easier it would be if they lay down. Drunk on booze and lust, she was laughably clumsy in her frantic efforts to get up on it. He did not help her in this, but only rubbed the big knob of it around in her creamy wet little slit to further increase her frustrated lust.
"It just won't work, baby. There's no way I can get this in your cunt."
"I've got to have it in me. I've just got to! I don't care if it rips me. I love you. I love you, Mitch, and I've got to have it in me!"
"I'm not about to do anything to hurt you, Lucy," he said, rubbing his cock against her clit just hard enough to keep her frenzy going, but not hard enough to let her come.
"Please, darling! Please fuck me. Please put it in me. I don't care if you love me or not, I've just got to have it in me!"
"I can't refuse you, dear. Take it like this. It's the only way," he said, and opening his mouth wide, he gave her a French kiss that he was sure she could feel right down to her bare toes.
She was feeling it there, and elsewhere. Her pussy, very nearly impaled on that massive organ, tried to close up as she understood his words. Her brain, fogged by lust and liquor, suddenly cleared, as she realized he wanted her to suck his cock. For just a moment it was totally unthinkable to her, but then, so was this whole situation that she'd dreamed about so much. She could take his penis into her mouth, just as he'd frenched her pussy. All she had to do was end the kiss and bob down and kiss it, and that simple act would bind them together forever as lovers. And between lovers, she had heard, there could be no sin.
"Yes," she panted. "I want to kiss it."
She would have gone down on him right them, but he held her too tightly, and between kisses he said, "Ever sucked a cock before? No, I don't think so. You'll like it, Lucy. Hell, hot little bitch that you are, you'll just love it."
"Just let me do it. Now, while I'm ready." Christ, she was getting more ready all the time! That great big thing that was him was still pressing up into her vulva, driving her mad with the need to move on it, to get it in her, and maybe if she got him as hot as he'd gotten her, he would put it in her cunt.
"It'll make a woman out of you, Lucy. You won't be a girl anymore once you've sucked me off. Once you start swallowing my come, your days as a girl are..."
The words sounded familiar. Could that have really been Mitch on the phone?
"You want me to ... swallow it?" she asked, feeling suddenly sick.
"Honey, I'm a man, not some boy who's content to spend all night necking and go home with hot rocks. And I love you too, in my way, and I want you to have all the best of things, and believe me, Lucy my coming will be the very best part of it when you go down on me. But if you don't want to, if you want to stop right now, just say the word."
"Well, I . . ." she stammered, and he was already letting her go, she was already losing him because of some silly inhibition against something he'd said was all good. Quickly, before she could think on it further, she dropped to her knees and took that great, thick thing in her mouth.
Her mouth had gone very dry at the thought of it, but now she was salivating wildly at the weird and wonderfully sexy flavor of it. Her love had been right; it was a thrilling and marvelous thing to do. It wasn't just the taste of it, but the smell of it too, and the satiny texture of the big thing that was the essence of him. She still dreaded his ejaculation, even though she knew that too would be good. She hastened it as best she could by adding a hand job to her mouth job, and she partially eased the burning in her twat by getting it against his shin bone and squeezing hard with her thighs.
Mitch smiled down on her. He patted her head with one hand and smoked his cigarette with the other, and he wished it was in his power to have Fern see this. The thought of his domineering wife witnessing this total domination of her daughter was so exciting that he almost lost control and came before he'd completely enjoyed the spectacle, and to ease his burgeoning lust, he looked out at the city, thus taking his mind from those erotic thoughts he'd been having.
What a way to spend a June afternoon-naked on the fortieth floor, a rich and beautiful wife asleep in the other room, servants fetching him special food, and enjoying the comforts of a very ardent blow-job from a child. It was all too fine to prolong, and he flipped his cigarette away and made ready to ejaculate.
"Baby, I'm gonna come," he panted, taking her head in his hands. "You ready for it?"
He pulled her mouth off his nearly bursting cock until she gulped. "Yes!" and then he slid it back on.
"Really got a big load for you, Lucy, and is it ever gonna be good. You ready to swallow it all?"
"Give it to me! Give it all to me!" she cried, fighting now to get her hot little mouth back on his cock.
He let her suck it until it took all his strength to hold back, and then he pulled her head back again and gasped. "Here it comes! Get it all!"
The first spurt of it hit her next to her nose, but she got her mouth on it again before the second one came. She was back to those mewing sounds again, but now they were even more urgent than before, and they were interrupted with audible gulpings as she strove to get every bit of it. She was going wild over his sperm, and whether it was because she really liked the taste of it or because of his powers of suggestion, he did not know. All he knew for sure was that he was having himself a helluva come, and that she was digging the hell out of it too. Clawing at his legs, almost chewing on his cock, she was grinding her snatch very hard against his leg, loving every second of it. To make it last, to eke all he could out of it, and to teach her a little more about what he liked, he grabbed her hand and thrust it against his hairy asshole, straightened one of her fingers and pushed it in. She was wriggling it nicely as the last, sighing drop of his sperm was sucked up and swallowed. He had to help her to her feet.
"I told you you'd like it," he said, smiling down at her.
"It was. ..it was..."
"You missed some," he said, and with his finger, he wiped away the drool of white by her nose and thrust it into her mouth. Her eagerness in sucking it was wonderful.
His finger was almost as thrilling as his prick had been in her mouth. It was reactivating all the nerve endings that had been so thoroughly stimulated by that other, bigger part of him. Sucking greedily at his finger, she could still feel his cock, though now it was softening, against her tummy. She was indeed a woman now, just as he'd said, and there was no fear at all about taking it in her cunt and coming all the way, much harder than she'd come against his leg, much harder than she'd ever come in her life before.
She swallowed a final time when he removed his finger, and panted. "Make it hard again. Fuck me now. Now that I'm a woman, fuck me, Mitch!"
He smiled and said, "No time for that. Sarah and Nelson are about due back."
"Mitch, please! Do I have to beg you?"
He shook her a little. "Don't ever raise your voice at me," he said, and there was an ominous grimness behind his handsome smile. He swatted her on the ass and said, "Get back in that chair."
She stepped right along, driven ahead by his slightly spanking hand. "Sit right on the edge of it and open up your legs. Hurry up, girl! We haven't got all day."
In a daze, she did as he said. His cock, soft as it was, still looked too large for her cunt, no matter how far she opened herself. For an awful moment she was terribly disappointed when he crouched down and put his mouth against her there, but then the electrifying sensations of his lips around her clit, his tongue lashing it wildly, drove everything out of her but the need to come, heavily, and go on coming forever.
"Urrrrrrrggggggggh," she groaned, robbed of the power of speech by his wonderful mouth and all it did to her. She couldn't even tell him she loved him, so great was her ecstasy. All she could do was groan and gurgle and thrash about, pounding at the chair arms with her fists and throwing her legs up and out even further as he made her cum, over and over, just as she'd always wanted to. She hardly heard the telephone.
Mitch answered it quickly, before the first ring had stopped, quickly before it might waken his sleeping wife. It was Nestor, the attorney again, and he tried to speak to him in a normal, cool voice as he kept on making his stepdaughter come with his fingers.
She was really a sight, coming like that, jumping and jerking in the confines of the big chair, her pretty, young face looking old and evil as it twisted and grimaced with the great joy he was bringing her. Each flick of his fingers was reaching every part of her body. This chick really knew how to come. He told Nestor again that Fern couldn't be disturbed at the moment, hung up the phone, and sucked hard on Lucy's clit until her orgasms became too much for her and she fell into a sort of a swoon.
He got up then and made himself his first drink of the day. He took it to the terrace to drink, our where he could watch for the return of the servants. He felt very good, in part because of the very big come he'd had, and in part because of the two females, mother and daughter, that he'd left behind in the apartment, both ravished to the point of exhaustion.
When he saw the Rolls coming back to the garage, he went inside and awoke Lucy with a cunty, boozy kiss. He pulled up her shirt as he did, and he gazed down at the little pink nubbins of her titties, almost all nipple and exceedingly pink in the band of white left by her swim suit top. He felt desire stirring again, and he looked forward to fucking the hell out of her next time.
Chapter Three
It was at dusk on the same day, and Fern and Mitch and Lucy were on the terrace, having a cocktail before dinner. All three of them were dressed for the theater. Fern had on a floor-length gown of softly clinging white crepe which was split up the front to her knees and whose neckline plunged down nearly to her navel. High-heeled white pumps and a string of pearls about her neck completed her ensemble, and the elegant simplicity of her attire served to enhance her great physical beauty. Mitch, in a dinner jacket, looked as if he could have stepped from the pages of a Playboy advertisement. Lucy was wearing red velvet hot pants over dark panty hose, knee-length leather boots, a cream-colored silk blouse with billowing sleeves, and an elaborately embroidered vest that had been made in India. Mitch sat between mother and daughter as they sipped daiquiris and conversed.
"I'm glad you decided to go with us to the theater, Lucy," Fern said, "even though it wasn't easy at all to get another ticket so late in the day. Nelson had to chase all over town for it. And I'm glad to see you wearing something other than those awful rags you usually run around in. Can it be you're becoming a lady? My God, it's been bad enough being the mother of a child, I don't know how I'll handle being the mother of a lady."
"You could say you're sisters," Mitch said, smiling at his wife.
"I've got to grow up sometime, Mother," Lucy said, and tried to twine her fingers with Mitch's.
He quickly pulled his hand away. Fern couldn't see the secretive pass Lucy had made at him, but the servants might, and that would be very bad. It would be a trying evening. Lovesick, horny Lucy would be after him in a hundred little ways, and although her attentions would be sweetly exciting, they would also be terribly dangerous. His only hope of getting through it safely would be to see that Fern had plenty to drink and that Lucy did not. Both their glasses were half empty. He refilled Fern's to the brim and put a few drops from the pitcher into Lucy's while they chatted, with Lucy making altogether too many cute little remarks about her evolution into a woman. He wondered if the danger was worth it, and then looking at the girl and recalling how easily she'd been led to blow him, he decided that it was. He was prepared to walk the tightrope between these two women, and he really didn't think he'd fall. If he did, there'd be another woman, perhaps not as beautiful as Fern, but more wealth and less demanding. Either way, all he had to lose was a little time, and at twenty-eight years of age, he had plenty of that left to him. Nelson appeared at the terrace doors, still in his chauffeur's uniform. He was a big man of about thirty-five, with a thick build and a rough-hewn face. He had once been a boxer, and this plus his powerful physique had been factors in Fern's hiring him, since she had a normal New Yorker's fear of muggers and burglars and she felt comforted by having the bulk of him around. Now he had a puzzled look on his face as he made his announcement.
"There is a Miss Mary Kilbourne calling. She says, Miss Fern, that she is... your niece?"
"Oh, Christ," Fern said, and downed half her drink. "What a time for her to come. I suppose she'll want to have dinner with us. Nelson, tell Sarah to lay another place. But I'll be damned if I'll send Nelson off in search of another ticket. She'll just have to stay here and count her rosary beads, or whatever it is they do in her religion. Show her in, Nelson."
None of them could quite believe their eyes when they saw her. She was of medium height and apparently of medium weight, though this was hard to tell, for on that very warm June evening, she was buttoned into a heavy black cloth coat. It came to her knees, and below it showed an inch of black skirt hem, while below this were heavy black stockings and much heavier black shoes. She was carrying a bulging shopping bag in her hand. On her head was a broad, flat, black hat. Her pale yellow hair was braided into thick plaits which disappeared up under the hat. Her face was very tanned, as were her hands. It was a very well-structured face, as the expert Fern could clearly see. The bones were classically formed, the lips nicely full, the skin taut, and the eyes a very clear blue behind the steel-rimmed spectacles. Take away the spectacles and add some make-up, and she could be a very lovely girl, almost as lovely as Fern's sister, Louise, who had borne her and who had been a beautiful girl herself before she'd thrown her life away in the great, and thoroughly boring Midwest.
Perspiration beaded the girl's short upper lip and streamed down her temples, but she made no move to either take off the coat or set down the shopping bag.
"Auntie Fern?" she said, looking back and forth from Fern to Lucy. "I'm Mary Kilbourne, your niece?"
'Hello, dear," Fern said, extending her hand and smiling up from her chair. "I am Fern, but let's drop the Auntie business, shall we? This is my husband Mitch and my daughter Lucy. You look stifling. Take off your coat and sit down and have a drink with us. Terribly sorry about your parents, dear."
"It was God's will," she said, leaning the bag against the chair facing them, and tugging at the buttons of her coat. "It was very good of you to take me in. I assure you I shall do my part here and more, and cause you no difficulty in the coming weeks until my eighteenth birthday. It's a great pleasure to meet all of you. Mother spoke of you often... Fern."
Bucolic as the girl was, Fern rather liked her. She was too stiff-backed and her language was too precise, but at least she wasn't a tobacco-chewing milkmaid in coveralls. It was a relief the way she had dispensed with the need to offer insincere condolences, and it Was a tribute to her that she was bearing up so well after the recent loss of both her parents. Fern saw that she greatly amused Lucy, and Mitch as well. Her husband, usually ultra-courteous, smiled and filled another glass, but he did not bother to rise and help her off with her coat.
Mary sat primly on the edge of the chair, knees together, skirt pulled down over them, stemmed glass in her hand. She had left her hat on, as if she would be asked to leave at any moment. Her high-necked, long-sleeved dress fit her loosely, except where it was sticking to her sweating body. It was probably the most unattractive dress Fern had ever seen, undoubtedly homemade and dyed black for mourning. The girl plucked at the sweaty bodice nervously, and Fern could see that she had a very nice bustline under it. What she could see of her legs wasn't bad either. Beauty ran in the family, at least to some degree.
She wasn't difficult to talk to, and thankfully, she did not bring her religion into the conversation. When asked what airline she had come on, she surprised and amused them all by saying she'd come on a bus. The news that she had walked from Grand Central Station instead of taking a cab had brought on complete disbelief at first, especially from Lucy.
"You walked? In this heat? I mean, you actually walked? That's over forty blocks."
"Oh, I walk much farther than that every day," she said, leaning back in the chair now, relaxing a little.
"Thaf s why she wears such sensible shoes," Mitch said with a wink. "Oh, she'll get along fine here in New York. Can I refill your glasses, ladies?"
Mary had drained hers in just about one gulp and was eager for more. "This is delicious. I was dying for a glass of water, but this is ever so much better. I hope you have plenty."
"Gallons of it," said Fern. "And plenty of dinner too. I hope you like Tournedoes with Bearnaise sauce."
"They've always scared me. Even praying doesn't help me in that. I didn't know you had them in New York, though," she said, and amiably smiled when they all laughed.
Sarah announced that dinner was served, and Fern got up and said, "Come along and we'll introduce you to New York tornados. And take off that hat, will you? It makes me uncomfortable just to look at it. Sorry you won't have time for a shower before dinner, but we're a little pressed for time."
"I just knew you'd have a shower here, and I can hardly wait to see how one feels," said the girl, taking off her hat as she stood up. The stiffness was gone from her now, and Fern was quite struck by the grace of her movements and the turn of her figure under the sacklike dress.
"Oh, don't tell us you've never taken a shower," Lucy said. "You can't be that much of a hick."
"I'm afraid I am," said Mary, turning toward her with an apologetic smile, and in turning, presenting her aunt with a profile view of her strikingly feminine shape and the thickest braid of golden hair she had ever seen.
"Come, I'll show you to the bathroom," said Fern, and placed a hand on her back to guide her away from her bemused daughter. In reality she wanted to feel how wide the band of Mary's bra was, for it had to be a remarkably sophisticated gannent to keep her full breasts so high on her chest. She was astounded to feel no bra band there at all.
Mary was awed by the opulence of the bathroom, and Fern found herself somewhat awed by the natural beauty of the girl who was washing her tanned hands in the marble sink. When she removed her glasses to wash her face, the change in her was startling. Fern saw that this was a real beauty in her house, but she still couldn't quite believe it. Beauty such as hers simply didn't come naturally, especially under the harsh conditions of farm life, and Fern decided that the beauty she saw was only there in contrast to the frumpy clothes and spectacles she was wearing. Still, the natural grace was certainly there as Mary sauntered toward the dinner table.
When Mitch started to pour the wine, Mary quickly refused. "No, thank you. I never touch alcohol in any form, I'll just get myself another glass of that lemonade."
It startled Lucy and Mitch for a moment, then broke them up with laughter. Smiling foolishly, Mary blandly asked them what was funny, and now Fern saw that the girl was a little drunk and had no idea of her condition. She said, "Sit still, Mary. That's what the servants are for. Sarah, bring the pitcher of lemonade from the terrace for my niece."
Mary was feeling extraordinarily good. It was, no doubt, the relief at having arrived safely after her long and frightening trip. She realized Lucy and Mitch were having a little fun at her expense, but she didn't really care, as long as they were enjoying themselves half as much as she was. Her aunt was being just wonderful to her, and wasn't at all the wild, wicked woman her mother had hinted she might be. She explained what Tournedoes were in a manner which covered up Mary's ignorance at such things, and she acted as a buffer for some of the jokes that the other two pointed at her. She helped her to more of the incredibly delicious food and she saw that she had a full glass of the tangy sweet lemonade at all times. She was a very nice woman, Mary decided, despite her city ways, and certainly a very beautiful one. All of them were beautiful, and so was the lavish apartment, and so was the big, fascinating city.
Mitch was surely the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life, and just looking at him made her blush and feel funny down below. Lucy was a devilishly pretty little pixie, younger than she in years, but vastly older in experience and sophistication, and Mary found it difficult to talk to her. She addressed most of her remarks to her aunt, who was probably the only woman in the world good-looking enough to make a match for Mitch. She admired her table manners and her warm voice and everything about her in addition to her beauty, and she almost wished she could be like her someday. At the moment, almost anything seemed possible, for she felt as if she were floating on a cloud in an unreal world where she had become a princess.
The meal might have lasted a minute or an hour; in Mary's condition of glowing happiness she had no way of telling. All thoughts of her parents' death and the funeral were gone from her head, and nothing mattered at the moment beyond the unbelievably good dessert she was having so much difficulty in getting from her plate to her mouth.
"She's really zonked, Mother," Lucy said.
"Mary's doing just fine. She's just a little tired from her trip. But she's due for an early bedtime, and I think Fd best stay here and see that she's all right. You two go on to the theater without me."
"Oh, I'm awright... all right," Mary said. "I c'n fine my way to bed jus' fine, Auntie. Whoops. S'posed to call you Fern, Fern."
"Darling, you should come with us," said Mitch. "After all, you went to a lot of trouble to get three tickets."
"Nelson went to all the trouble. Let him use the third ticket. I'll stay here and play hostess. You go on now. It's getting late. Don't give me any arguments."
Mary started to protest again, but it was just too much trouble. She smiled her thanks at her aunt and tried to reach a stray dab of ice cream on her lip with her tongue, and Mitch and Lucy rose from the table. It would be even nicer, Mary felt, with just the two of them there. They could get to know each other better.
Nelson faced the front of the elevator riding down, and behind his back, Mitch and Lucy squeezed each other's hands and felt each other's bodies as they spoke.
"She's priceless. I didn't know such people existed."
"She's not a bad-looking girl, if only she'd do something with herself."
"She should learn a lot while she's here."
"Shell probably stay drunk all the time on that lemonade' she likes so much. She'd have a hemorrhage if she knew it was loaded with rum."
By the time they reached the ground floor, the bottom of Mitch's jacket was concealing a terrific hard-on, and the crotchband of Lucy's panties was wet with her dew. They had a few minutes alone while Nelson went to get the Rolls.
"Mitch, you've got to think of a way to get rid of him. We've got to be alone together."
He ran a finger up her spine, sending a hot chill through her. "I've already thought of a way, my pretty. You're going to feel faint in the theater, and I'm going to take you out for a walk."
"And where can we go then? Vd love going anywhere with you. I love you so."
With his hands on her arms, he turned her to face him. Grinning, he said, "Lucy, we'll get a lot more out of our time together if we forget about the love bit and concentrate on having fun." He pressed his bulging loins aginst her palpitating tummy. "Find someone your age to fall in love with. With me, just have fun. I can teach you how."
She wrinkled her nose and pressed back at him, saying, "Okay, teacher. Whatever you say. Just get me to that hotel room."
The hotel was rather a shabby one, but it was the closest one to the theater. They had had no trouble in escaping from Nelson. Registering at the place as man and wife was an agonizing excitement for Mitch, for he well knew the penalties for fornicating with a fifteen-year-old girl, not only those imposed by law, but also those which Fern might inflict. And Lucy was so excited that her knees were shaking and she had to hang onto his arm, admiring him anew for his calmness and feeling certain that at any moment the police would burst into the sleazy little lobby and haul them both away. The relief at having successfully registered was so great that she was dizzy and panting as he led her to the elevator.
As ancient as it was, the place had a bellboy operating the elevator, a small, wizened man in a soiled uniform, whose sidelong appraisal of them in their fine clothes left no doubt that he knew the illicit nature of their visit there. "Anything I can get you?" he said. "A bottle or anything?"
Mitch took a twenty-dollar bill from his money clip. "A bottle of chilled champagne, French, and a package of rubbers. If you're quick about it, you keep the change." The bellboy smiled like a lizard.
Lucy had not known rooms like that existed outside of movie sets. It was small and dingy, illuminated by a bare bulb, and what little was in it was soiled with age. Traffic sounds and neons intruded from outside the tattered, fly-specked blinds, and the sagging bed looked as if it had been a workbench for a thousand whores.
Mitch took her narrow shoulders in his hands and said, "I should've taken you to a decent place. I should've been able to wait."
"No! I-I like it here. I really do."
"You do? Whatever for?"
"For this," she said, tilting her pelvis up against that delicious hard warmth of his, and feeling sexier than she ever had before in her life. She went on tiptoe to kiss him, big and hot and juicy, and then said, "Let's undress."
"Best wait till our messenger boy gets back."
"Hell with him. He knows what we're here for anyway," she said, and pushing off from him, began to disrobe.
From six feet away, they devoured each other with their eyes as they stripped off their elegant clothes and draped them over rickety straight-backed chairs. First he was fascinated by the bright pink nubbins of her titties, then by her all but hairless little-girl cunt, and by the time his big, hard organ was laid bare, she was flushed all over and breathing very fast as she stared at it. They came together to kiss by the side of the bed, openmouthed, with tongues tangling, and she grapevined a leg about his and tried to climb up his big body while he dug his fingers deep into the little mounds of her ass. Her body was seething everywhere with hot desire, and she simultaneously wanted his cock in her mouth, her cunt, her hand, everywhere.
They heard the second knock at the door.
Lucy was plastered against Mitch's back as he opened the door a crack, grinding her loins against his ass. She could almost feel the gooseflesh raise on him, and then it broke out on her as she heard him whisper, "Nelson!"
Chapter Four
Fern and Mary remained at the table while Sarah cleared the dishes away and brought coffee and brandy. The coffee would do Mary some good, get her out of her state of stuffed lethargy without really covering her up, and the brandy would allow Fern's thoughts to roam more freely. With Mitch and Lucy safely gone, she could speculate about the strange girl, question her, and muse about her own motives for wanting to be alone with her.
It seemed impossible that such stupid innocence could exist, and unthinkable that it could be related by blood to her. But there it was, smiling sappily at her from across the table. Now that she was drunk and loosely relaxed, she was more beautiful than ever, and when Fern got her to take off her glasses, her great natural beauty further increased. It was awe-inspiring, and at the same time it was quite maddening to see such beauty being camouflaged, while Fern had worked so hard to bring her own beauty to the fore. It was also worth looking into. Fern had already learned that the farm which Mary came from was an organic one, and now she asked if Mary's diet had been organic all her life.
"Yep. No 'secticides' allowed, only fertile eggs, livestock all natural-fed. Very healthy diet, but I never had a meal as good as this one."
"I suppose I could get that sort of food from the health food stores here."
"I s'pose. But it wouldn't be fresh. Gotta be fresh. Right off the farm."
"I see. And how big is their farm? Your farm now."
"Four thousand acres. Real big," she said, waving her arm expansively, and tightening the bodice over those high, full breasts. "Hate to go back there without my folks. Don't even know if I can," she said, and she sniffled and a great tear rolled down her smooth, tanned cheek.
Fern went around the table and put her arms about her, again unable to feel any sign of a bra to hold up those incredible breasts. She said, "There, there, Mary. Nothing we can do about it now. It's God's will, remember? Come. Let's get you into the shower."
"Stupid to cry," Mary said, unsteadily rising. "Take care of myself jus' fine now. Golly, I must smell like a sow."
She smelled like new-mown hay as Fern closely helped her along, saying as she went, "I'll take care of you for now, dear. You're in good hands now."
The girl smiled hazily at her and leaned more heavily against her. Her body was remarkably supple and soft, yet rippling with smooth muscle, and Fern became more determined than ever to see it. While Mary gazed about at the marble and chrome master bathroom, Fern got her dress unbuttoned down the back to her waist. She was wearing some sort of a cambric shift under it. As she started to pull the dress off her smoothly rounded shoulders, Mary said, "What're you doin'? Stop!"
Fern went right on. "Just helping you get out of these things and into the shower. You're so tired and full you can barely stand up."
"I c'n do it. You shouldn't see me," she said, trying to simultaneously hold up the dress and conceal her homespun-covered breasts at the same time, and failing at both.
"Nonsense. Don't give me any trouble," Fern sternly said. "After all, I'm your mother's sister, and she certainly helped you undress often enough."
"No," she said, still struggling weakly. "Not since I was a little girl. Modesty is the soul of ... of something or other... I forget. But y'shouldn't see me."
Fern grabbed her and turned her to face her. Up close, with her dress halfway down and the upper swells of her breasts showing, she was even more beautiful. Still Fern remained stern as she said, "That may be well and good for back on that farm, but you're in New York, in my house, and here we do things my way. So stop being such a perfect ass about such a simple thing as taking off your clothes and taking a bath, and just be still."
"Yes, ma'am," she meekly said, and her wide blue eyes blinked and she dropped her arms to her sides.
Fern went around behind her again to pull the ugly dress down over the lovely curves of her hips. It was warm, but the girl was shivering slightly. Fern had often been undressed by a maid, but she'd never undressed another woman before, not even Lucy when she was young, for there had always been a governess for that. Now she hesitated not at all in getting on her knees and taking off those clodhopper shoes and rolling the black stockings down over those sturdy but wonderfully curved calves. The hem of her niece's shift came to her knees, and Fern found that she was breathing a little hard as she gazed at the further curves that transformed the spartan garment into something that was most alluring. Did she have a desire for this girl? Impossible, for she was anything but a lesbian. She just wanted to see her, that was all.
Fern got to her feet, and as she did, she grasped the hem of her niece's shift to lift it. The girl came to life and tried to push it down, gasping. Fern gripped her jaw hard in her hand and snapped, "Damn it, hold still and let me help you!"
"You . . . you don't have to curse," said Mary. "And I can undress myself."
"This is my house and Til do as I wish here! Christ sake, you've never even taken a shower before!"
Again the girl became entirely submissive and docile. Perhaps there was some merit to a religious, rural upbringing. Fern raised the shift, but slowly. Through the lower lashes of her glowering eyes, she caught a glimpse of thighs that were like tapered columns of topaz, and silky golden loins. She lifted it higher, and paused when it was over Mary's eyes, for then she could gaze unobstructed at those breasts that had first fascinated her, and she shed any last disbelief that such gloriously shaped breasts could support themselves without the help of a man-made garment.
Still, they were unbelievable. Full, heavy globes, with perfectly ripe undersides, tapering to blunt cones which were capped with generously-sized areolas of rich coral pink that contrasted erotically well with the tan of the globes, and tipped with protuberant nipples that would fit exactly in a man's pursed lips. Mary began feebly struggling with the garment and Fern whipped it off her head, leaving the girl gloriously, beautifully naked.
It was almost too much. Before she could be overcome, Fern slapped a nubile haunch and said, "Into the shower." But before Mary had taken two steps, Fern grabbed her thick golden braid and brought her up short, saying, "Wait. Let me get this undone before you get in there."
Her fingers were inordinately clumsy in undoing the plait. Mary's bare backside stuck out too far, and she could feel its heat radiating through the front of her white crepe gown. The healthy, sweaty smell of her was almost intoxicating. Looking to the side, Fern could see them in profile, herself taller and more resplendent in heels and gown and coiffed hair, the girl from Indiana head down and nervously fidgeting, but just as lovely in the altogether. She billowed out the golden tresses when they were freed, and then touched that firm bottom again with a sharp little slap that propelled Mary into the shower. Fern felt as if she too had had too much to drink as she watched the shadowy tan form through the frosted glass of the shower door.
"Miss Fern?" Sarah's voice called from afar. "Mr. Nestor is here to see you."
"You tell him that when I want him, m call him," she replied, already unzipping her gown. "Tell him to go away."
It took Fern far less time to undress than it had to dress, and then she was into the shower stall with the startled girl, only to confirm the beauty she had already seen. She went about it briskly, businesslike, as if it were normal for two New York females to share a shower together. She adjusted the water temperature and took the perfurmed soap from Mary's hands, turned her around and felt as well as looked at the creamy smooth skin of her softly tapered back. When Mary tried to protest, she told her to shut up and soaped those exquisitely protuberant buttocks, delving deep in the crack of them with the lather and thus causing her niece to whimper and try to climb the walls of her splashy little prison. Fern's elegantly coif-fed hairdo was already in a shambles, but she didn't notice it at all.
Now that she'd seen all of that splendid young body, she was compelled to touch it. Her impulse was to use that bar of soap all over it, but her hands were shaking too much and she feared she might frighten the girl. So she stuck the bar of soap into Mary's hand and turned her back to have it washed, and to catch her breath.
Light as Mary's touch was, it soothed away the tension that had built in Fern's shoulders. Without looking at her, she could think again. It was simply impossible that the farmgirl could be that beautiful. If Fern had had that beauty at age eighteen, she'd have snared the Aga Khan. Apparently all Mary lacked was brains, or at least the knowledge of what she had going for her. She had no doubt that Mary was a virgin, and that the first man who got hold of her would very probably never let her go. It angered her a little that Mary had so much natural beauty, and that so much of her own had been paid for. The girl could so easily turn men on, it was ridiculous. She was even turning Fern on a little. She wondered if Mary knew it.
Mary had never felt so strange in her life. It was the aftershock of her parents' death, she told herself, the trip, the exotic meal, this entirely strange scene here in this shower. She didn't know that it was, and she didn't know how to handle it. She just went on doing her aunt's bidding, washing that smooth white back, trying to define and fight the feelings in her. They were concentrated in her loins and breasts, and she felt as she sometimes had during recent shameful and confusing dreams. But this was real, or at least she thought it was. It would soon be over, she told herself. In a few minutes she'd be out of the big, hazy shower stall and securely wrapped in a towel, and from there it would only be a step to bed. She longed to be back on the farm, and yet at the same time she remained fascinated by all this luxury that was so new and wonderful to her.
"That's fine," said her aunt, and turning, took the soap from her.
She tried to tell her she could wash her face just fine by herself, but already Fern was lathering it up. Eyes tightly closed, new shivers went through her as the slick suds were worked into her neck and shoulders and arms. The soap was stinging her eyes, but then the sting was completely forgotten as she felt her aunt's hands laving her breasts with the heavy suds. She bit her lip and clenched her fists, for now the dreamy feelings were almost too strong. Perhaps it was a dream: she no longer knew. She did know that her nipples were hard as rocks, but far more sensitive than any rock, and it was getting even worse.
She yelped when one of them was pinched, and had to fall back against the wall. Her aunt called her a sissy, and began to wash her belly. It was a great relief at first, but then it seemed that her breasts were crying out for more of the luxurious washing and her loins were trying to shrink away from what was coming.
Fern had her leaning back against the wall, drunk and helpless and very hot. She knew how a rapist felt at that time, or more accurately, how a child molester felt, and accordingly, she sought for more of those feelings. She rubbed the bar harder around the virgin's loins, then dug her soapy hand roughly between the thighs and slipped her middle finger through the writhing girl's slit.
"Don't! Please!" Mary cried, and tried to push her away, for the strange feelings had suddenly become too intense to bear.
"Goddamnit, Mary, be quiet," said Fern, and felt again to be sure of the very womanly size of the girl's clitoris.
I can't stand this, Mary thought. Whatever is happening to my mind and body cannot be good, simply because it feels too good. I must stop it, but I don't know how! I can't stop her, for I am in her charge. Therefore, I must stop the good feelings in me ... if I can.
She almost collapsed with relief when the finger was taken from her vulva. The squeezings of Fern's hands on her legs were electrifying, but she could stand anything after having stood the washing of her slit. Then those hands came up again, to touch her everywhere they had before, again causing those wickedly good feelings she'd been introduced to during these last few very long minutes.
"Let's rinse you off now," said her aunt, shoving her back under the warm torrent. When she was able to open her eyes a little, there was Fern's face, inches before hers, devoid of make-up, grinning almost evilly, while her hands washed away the suds and made it harder than ever to fight down the hot feelings in herself..
When Fern got to her loins, she was even more vigorous with her finger, making it feel as if something was about to burst inside her. Again Mary pushed her away, sobbing now, saying, "Don't!"
"I am going to shut you up once and for all while I wash you!" Fern snapped, and, lathering her hand, she slapped it against Mary's mouth. The taste was awful, but she didn't even dare try to spit it out, nor could she bring herself to again try to stop her aunt's finger from working back and forth in her vulva. Misery and ecstasy became so tightly intermingled that she was unable to fight either of them, and she passed into a sort of stupor wherein her will was not her own.
The girl was red-hot. With foam drooling from her lolling mouth, she reminded Fern of a mad dog, and she expertly rubbed her distended clit harder to increase the madness. Her niece was working with her now, albeit unknowingly, squirming her ass against the tile wall and clutching at her tanned hips with both hands. She'd never gotten a female hot before, and it was wild. Even wilder, it was getting her hot too. Her breasts were touching the girl's and there was a very good tingle in her cunt, and her clit seemed to be stretching out of her labia. She used her finger more delicately, holding Mary right on the edge of an orgasm, and vividly recalling how orgasms had felt when she was eighteen. When it was just about to break, she took her hand from the girl's crotch and grabbed her by the chin, turning her face up to the water.
It was incredibly sweet, that water, and after rinsing her mouth with it, Mary drank some down. She was all buttery-soft and warm inside, in a state of euphoria where nothing at all mattered. Still it surprised her when Fern said, "Let's see if you got all the soap out," and kissed her on the mouth.
"Mmm-mmmm," Mary murmured, and tried to shake her head, for she vaguely knew it wasn't right for two women to kiss like that. It isn't even right to let a man put his gtongue in your mouth, she thought. But then that ringer was in her slit again, rubbing against her love bump, and the wonderful woman's silken-smooth body was against her and she was kissing her back in just the same way.
Fern didn't have to see her to tell when she began to come. The girl groaned deep in her throat and writhed more strongly against her, and her strong fingers dug into Fern's shoulders. She went on fingering and kissing her until it was nearing its peak, then bit Mary's tongue and turned away. She shut off the water and left the shower stall, hugely excited, with a curt command over her shoulder for Mary to follow.
Mary was acting drunker than ever while Fern rubbed her dry. Limp as a rag, grinning foolishly, even giggling, she allowed Fern to feel her and kiss her and pinch her anywhere she chose, still riding the crest of a sexual ecstasy that was quite unfamiliar to her. Fern felt all-powerful, and very lustful.
"Come along," she said, taking the girl's hand, and led her in a shambling, groggy walk to the master bedroom. She sat her on the corner of the bed and spread her legs, revealing the deep pink depths of her very wet, very inflamed cunt, and it took only a touch on Mary's chest to make her fall back on her back on the bed.
"Now hold your cunt open," Fern said, having a difficult time not throwing herself atop that perfectly beautiful, totally helpless body.
"My . . . cunt?" she blearily asked. "This," said Fern, and stooping, jammed her finger in her niece's vagina as far as it would go, right up to the little membrane which the girl no doubt held as her most precious possession.
"Gahhhh,'' she groaned, throwing her hips up at Fern's hand, stretching the taut labia as wide as they would go.
"You like that, do you?" "Yes? Can't help it. I do!"
"Do you . . . want me to lick it?" Fern hardly knew what she was saying by then.
"Anything! I don't care! Just make it feel like it did before."
"Goddamned fucking innocent slut," Fern growled, twisting, jabbing viciously with her finger, relishing every wanton thrusting of the tawny gold body at her disposal. "No better than I am at all," she said, and shoving harder still, succeeded in rupturing the precious tissue with her fingernail.
The girl screamed and tried to cover herself; Fern laughed out loud as she jabbed and ripped it all away. Blood appeared on those virginal loins, and with it came such feelings of mixed desires and compassion that now she did cover Mary's tormented body with hers, and began fucking her in the fashion of a lesbian, desperate to wash away the pain with just one complete, all-forgiving orgasm.
It came for Mary almost at once. Almost at once the pain of her loss was gone and she was fucking wildly back at Fern. Breast to breast, mouth to mouth, cunt to cunt, the totally inexperienced girl was proving herself to be the demanding one now. She was raking Fern's back with her nails, spurring her on with her heels, and rubbing her clit just as hard as she could against Fern's. Coming terrifically hard, she brought Fern right along with her, and for several intensely ecstatic minutes the pair of females gasped and thrust, shuddered and orgasmed, grinding their overflowing cunts together.
Once, twice, three times-once Fern started coming she feared she might never be able to stop, feared that the unbridled passions of this madly orgasming girl would infuse themselves so deeply in her that she would be the degraded one, the lesbian.
With a great effort of will, she wrenched away from the still-orgasming girl, lurched up on the bed, and threw her leg over the twisting, turning blonde head. She parted her heavy cunt-lips wide and mashed her sex down on the girl's mouth, commanding her to, "Lick it! Suck it!"
With no hesitation, Mary did so. Fern smiled down at the body before her, the blood-smeared loins sundered, the perfect form debased and sweaty with lust. Yes, she still had the girl in her power, for what that was worth. She could still make her do whatever she wanted her to, and apparently like it.
Apparently? God, the girl was loving it, quite literally eating it up. An orgasm rose anew in Fern, and with it a need for more. She plunged forward, not caring a whit that there was blood there, and gobbled and licked and sucked the virgin's cunt for all she was worth, pouring back every ounce of delirious pleasure that her niece was giving to her.
Long after, when Mary was in the guest bed, dressed in one of Fern's negligees, her aunt held a glass of creme de menthe to her kiss-bruised lips and said, "Drink, dear. It'll make you sleep. Do as Auntie says, dear. Auntie knows what's best for you. That's the good girl. Sip it all down, and tomorrow morning you won't remember anything of what happened this evening."
She sat there until Mary was asleep, smiling. Mary might not remember, but she certainly would. She went to have a drink and some thoughts before she went to bed, and hoped that Mitch and Lucy wouldn't come home and interrupt her before then.
Chapter Five
"Nelson!" Lucy repeated, and squealing like a terrified mouse, scurried to hide behind her stepfather. She couldn't believe it; it had to be some kind of a bad joke Mitch was trying to play on her, but he seemed almost as distraught as she was as he pushed against the open door.
"Damn your impertinence! How dare you follow us! I'll have your job for this!" Mitch cried.
Nelson's soft laugh was unmistakeable, as was his voice. "I couldn't have my employer and his little girl wandering around in a neighborhood like this all by themselves. You'd better let me in, Mr. Greaves. I don't want to cause any more commotion than we're already causing."
"Make him go 'way, Mitch!" Lucy urgently whispered, undecided whether to remain where she was or to make a dash for her clothing. "Fire him! Do something!"
"What do you think I'm trying to do!" he hissed, and knocked the breath out of her with an elbow in her ribs. Doubled over, one hand at her loins and the other across her breasts, she had never felt so naked in her life.
Mitch spoke again with an attempt at reason sounding in his panicked voice. "All right, you've caught me. I'm in here with a prostitute, and there's a hundred dollars in it for you if you'll leave and forget all about it. Five hundred dollars."
That awful, soft laugh again, and then, "Your wife wouldn't like you calling little Lucy a prostitute, Mr. Greaves. But then, she wouldn't like any of this. You'd better let me in now before I have to put this champagne down and push my way in."
"We have to do it!" he whispered to Lucy. "Quick, get dressed! Get in the bathroom!" And to Nelson, he said, "All right. Just a moment-"
"Now!" Nelson barked, and burst in through the door, sending Mitch off-balance. Lucy leapt and scampered about, trying to pick up clothes and cover herself with them, while the smiling Nelson quietly closed the door behind him. With clothes clutched before her, she felt even more naked under his gaze.
He held out the bottle with a slow, sardonic bow, and said, "Would you like me to open this now, Mr. Greaves?" Lucy was backing toward the bathroom door, when he stopped her with a pointed finger and the slow words, "You stay right here, honey. I'm not going to hurt you." Smiling down at her, he began taking the lead foil off the neck of the bottle.
Mitch looked very pale. He sidled past Nelson, cupped hands over his deflated penis, saying in a shaking voice, "I suppose you're after blackmail money and I suppose you'll get it, but at least have the decency to turn around while we dress."
"One thing I'm short of is decency," Nelson said. "And I didn't say anything about you two getting dressed. Maybe we'll get around to talking about your blackmail money later, but right now, all I'm here for is to see what's going on. . . ." He looked very pointedly at Lucy. ". . . and right now, I'm not seeing enough. Uncover, - Lucy, or I leave now and go straight to your mother."
POW! The explosion of the champagne cork made Lucy yip and leap, and immediately Mitch was at her, holding her by the shoulders and saying, "Let him look at you, damn it, and then maybe he'll go peaceably. Don't worry. I won't let him touch you."
Nelson chuckled and said, "Yeah, I don't want to touch you, Lucy. Your stepfather might want to go to jail for statutory rape, but I don't."
"A voyeur," Mitch sneered.
"And you're a child-fucker," Nelson sneered back.
"I assure you," said Mitch, "that we did not come here to . . ."
He stopped, for from the pocket of his jacket, Nelson had produced a small red and white packet that even Lucy knew contained rubbers. He tossed them to Mitch, who fumbled and then caught them, and then he said, "You two just go right ahead with what you were doing, just as if I wasn't here." He took a drink from the bottle, set it down on the rickety night stand, and sat down on the edge of a chair with his elbows resting on his knees. Mitch embraced Lucy in shaking arms and whispered, "We'll have to do it, somehow. If we work at it, maybe we can . . . forget he's here. Lie down on the bed. I'll try to shield your body with mine."
"No!" she whispered back. "It's me he wanted to see!"
Defiantly then, she thrust away from Mitch and cast aside the garments she'd snatched up. Fists on diminutive hips, she faced Nelson foursquare, pelvis tilted forward, holdng nothing back. He grinned and pursed his lips in a soundless whistle, and as the gaze from his glinting gray eyes flickered up and down her tiny, naked body, a new sort of feeling came over her. Never before has she hated anyone, but now she did. It was not a blind hate she felt for the blandly smiling, eagerly waiting man, but one of utter scorn and disgust, and she could feel it tingling through every part of her body. She thought of several vile names to call him, but was breathing so hard with her hatred for him that she couldn't get them out. Finally, she extended her middle finger in his direction and viciously jabbed the air with it, then threw herself down on the creaking old bed. There she found her voice again.
"Come on. Mitch! Let's show this voyager what r wanted to see and get the heck out of here." %
"The word is, voyeur, my dear," he replied. "And although you may be able to perform in front of an audience, the nature of my male anatomy is such that I cannot."
With a sweep of his hand, he indicated his flaccid penis. Nelson chuckled, further increasing Lucy's hatred for him, and she reached out and grabbed Mitch's wrist, saying, "You get here in bed with me, and I'll take care of that."
"I'm afraid it's useless," said Mitch, but he sat on the bed.
"Give the little lady a chance," Nelson said, and she shot him a look of daggers.
She fell on Mitch's prick and began kissing it, and it was an entirely different trip now that it was so soft and pliable. She kissed his big balls feverishly and rubbed his organ against her cheek, and Mitch tried to help her forget about Nelsn's presence by pulling her around where he could kiss her loins as well.
Sixty-nine. She'd never done that before, but she'd thought about it in the past, and it had always seemed like a tremendously sexy thing to do. Now she found that indeed it was. Her pussy was even more responsive to his kisses than before, and to her great delight, the taste of it was stimulating him to the point where his cock was stiffening. She sucked with increasing ardor, rapidly manipulating it in her hand at the same time, nostrils flaring with her panting eagerness to make Mitch's dick completely hard and as aroused as she was getting. "Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!" she said, sucking and slurping in that beautifully responding piece of masculinity, already almost lost in her passion, and then Nelson brought her down.
"Does it taste all that good, Lucy?" he asked with a chuckle, and she opened her eyes and glared at him.
He was still in the chair, the grin on his broad, square jaw even wider. One hand was between his legs now, plucking and pushing at the crotch of his pants. He was a pervert, all right, getting his kicks from looking, not doing, and that made Lucy feel very superior to him, exultantly so. She closed her eyes and sucked Mitch's cock with even more passion that she felt, as if it was the most delicious thing she'd ever known, and at the same time she squirmed and thrust her cunt up to his rapidly flicking tongue and made the sounds that an orgasming nymphomaniac might make.
The act wasn't hard to put across, for now, this second time she was sucking Mitch's cock, it was even better than the first. The taste, the smell of it was very good, and extremely stimulating. It got better as he got harder, as the bony gristle filled her mouth and throat and the prelude to his come started oozing out to set her taste buds drooling. His cunt-licking was better too. Apparently he'd held something back before, for now it felt as if she was orgasming all the time, and yet she knew she was in store for a really big explosion that would make that noisy old bed sound like a subway train soon. Still, she could hear Nelson's voice above the creaking, trying its best to ruin things for them.
"Don't forget about the rubbers you sent the bellboy for, Mitch. I'd like to see you fuck her as well as suck her."
His suctioning mouth was taken from her badly needing pussy, and she tried to find it again with blind movements of her hips as she heard him say, "What are you, a frustrated porno movie director?"
"Maybe so. But I want to see you fuck her, and you want to do it. Put on a rubber, if you want, but fuck her."
She took her mouth from his cock quickly, or she couldn't have taken it off at all, and she panted, "Baby, kiss my pussy some more, make me come some more. I'll put the rubber on you."
"So she knows how, eh?" said Nelson. "Her sweet old stepdad has taught her a lot."
"Honestly, Nelson," Mitch started, "this is the first time we've ever .. .'*
"Shut up and eat me!" Lucy cried, and succeeded in shoving his head back down between her open legs.
The rubbers were there on the bed. She knew how to put one on, for she'd seen Robert do it, but now she didn't know if she could manage it or not, for she was so clumsy in her burgeoning sexual excitement that she had a devil of a time just opening the little cardboard box. Mitch's cock kept interfering. AH big and hard now, it kept diverting her attention and causing her to give it another lick, another suck to keep it that way. And Nelson, the bastard, was doing his best to interfere with his snide remarks.
"That's an awful big cock for such a little girl. I'm going to have to see this to believe it. What's the matter, Lucy? Need some help getting the foil off that rubber?"
"I don't need a damned thing," she said, "from you."
She ripped at the foil with her nails, and at last it came open. She was really coming now, with wave after wave of sheer pleasure racing through her body, regardless of the presence of the lewdly leering family servant. Pursing her wetted lips, she ran them all about the satiny head of Mitch's hot cock and dipped her tongue-tip into the big eye there to taste his spicy sweetness one more time, then strove to gather her wits about her for the necessary ordeal of getting the rubber on it.
Mitch was still licking her cunt, languorously, wonderfully, and now Nelson at last got up from the chair. She cringed, thinking he was going to lay his dirty hands on her, but instead, he went around to crouch down for a good look at her cunt being licked by her stepfather. While he was there, she managed to roll the rubber down over the head of Mitch's cock. The lividness of it was diffused by the thin white membrane. She sucked it again, and though it wasn't as good as when it was bare, it was still very exciting. When Nelson came grinning back, she acted as if it was a delightful as ever, and she looked up at him and said with her eyes, Don't you wish this was you, you sorry excuse for a man?
The bulge in his pants was quite prominent by then, and he made no bones about helping to keep it that way with his hands. Lucy looked properly ecstatic as she went on kissing the rubber-covered head of Mitch's bigger, better prick while she rolled the very tight rubber down its shaft.
Nelson did touch her then, He poked her in the ribs with his finger, and said, "Let's see you climb the pole, Lucy." It set off a spasm of ecstasy in her that made her come even harder, and for several thrilling seconds she was able only to churn her hips and crash about and squeal and come, come, commme.
"Easy, baby," Mitch said. "Take it easy."
"I can't! Oh! Ohhh, God! I can't take it easy with you. Nnnnngggg! So good! Sucking, fucking, so goooodddd!"
"Horny little wildcat, isn't she?" Nelson said, with that depraved chuckle of his.
"Yes!" she gasped. "With Mitch, only with Mitch. With you, I'd just be yawning now. Fuck me, Mitch. Let me climb your pole."
He started to turn about on the bed, but she was already coming to meet him. With a strength born of her great excitement, she pushed him down on his back and quickly straddled his waist, and there she tasted the sweet, foul sexiness of her cunt on his tongue. His prick was throbbing in the groove of her ass, and her little cunt was now on fire with its need to have it in her. She raised up on her knees and groped with Mitch for the sturdy shaft, trying to jam it in her leaking hole as he tried to guide it there.
"Get it in! Stick it in!" she gasped.
"Easy, honey. Don't want to hurt you."
"Damn it, stick it in me!" she cried. "That's what this queer wants to see, and that's what you've got to do!"
"Well, don't try to break it in half!" said Mitch, for now she was bearing down with amost her full weight on the knob of it to force it into the extremely tight portal of her vagina.
She wanted to scream, not so much from the thickening pain of it, but from the terrible frustration of having it so near to being in her, and yet so far. Struggling and whining and panting, her long, dark hair flying, she rotated her hips and succeeded only in increasing the mad itching in her pussy. Sweat was streaming from her body in the close confines of the room, and even Nelson was trying to ease the the insertion by calming her.
"No hurry, Lucy. We've all got time." he said, and gave her a little pat on the ass.
She half-whirled about to slap at his hand, and as she did, her little body plunged down, and a full four inches of Mitch's massive cock was imbedded in her little-girl cunt. She was stretched right to the point of tearing, and it hurt, but still it felt good, better than anything she'd ever known in her life. "Nnng! Oh! Ah!" she cried, whirling this way and that as she had when Nelson had touched her ass, trying to get still more of it into her, orgasming delirously from the tight but incomplete friction within her. Again it was Nelson who inadvertently helped her.
Mitch had been holding onto her ass with both hands, gritting his teeth in his effort to keep from coming. But Nelson's slimy hand there was unmistakable as it joined Mitch's for one little pinch of her left buttock. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked, and all at once, Mitch's cock was in her to the hilt.
It filled her so greatly that for a little while she was paralyzed with it. It was so long, so thick, that she thought she might never be able to move her legs again, let alone close them. And then Mitch arched slowly up off the bed, grinning up at her, letting her know he loved her, and the feelings were suddenly so strong that she realized she hadn't really been orgasm-ing at all before.
Lucy went wild with this peak. Gone completely was the paralysis, and she bobbed up and down like a monkey on a string, driving that lovely fat cock into her gushing pussy over and over, making the utterly thrilling orgasm go on and on, bursting and breaking into ever bigger delights. Mitch's hands on her tits helped it along, pinching and pulling, and now even Nelson's dirty hands on her leaping ass were adding to it.
"EEEEeeeeeek! Now! Morrrre!" she cried, twisting and jerking and thrusting against the great impalement, until Mitch's orgasmic groans joined hers to tell her that the rubber was filling, swelling, and he was feeling as good as she, if that was at all possible.
It seemed that it was, for her pleasure increased by just looking at his bliss-contorted face, feeling his straining body under hers. In the madness of climax, she saw Nelson's face at her shoulder, eyes wide with vicarious pleasure, mouth open and almost drooling, and even this was manifested by a final, even greater shudder of delight that tore through her pleasure-wracked young body. It was too much. It ripped her, tore her, and left her to collapse against Mitch's sweating chest, with Nelson's hand giving her a congratulatory pat on her fanny.
As if from a great distance, Lucy heard Nelson's chuckle, and the somewhat strained words, "You two don't fool around when you fuck. How the hell do you take care of your wife, with a little tomato like this on your hands; Mitch?"
"We've never," he panted, "made it all the way before. But it won't be," he puffed, "the last time."
"And it won't be the last time you'll have a little audience. You put on a good show, you two. You ought to try out in one of those cruddy places in Times Square."
Nelson shrugged, and Mitch sighed and said, "Now, Lucy. No need in provoking him. After all, he's . . ." He sighed again. ". . . he's sort of got us in his power."
"He hasn't got me in his power," she angrily said, and wrenched herself off her stepfather. His prick, softened, covered with the messily filled rubber, now looked far from being as attractive as it had. "He hasn't got me in his power at all. I don't care if he tells mother. I'll just run away. That's all."
"Don't talk foolishly," Mitch said, sitting up and taking her by the shoulders. "If you won't think of yourself, think of me. If you love me at all, think of me, and . . . and do as he says. All he wants is money, and the chance to ... to watch us again. He doesn't want to do anything to you but look at you. You know that."
"I don't know anything of the kind. For all I know, if you left the room now,' he'd want to fuck me. And that'd make me sick."
Nelson said, "Listen to Mitch, Lucy. He's right. I'm a looker, that's about all. Oh, m probably throw the old blocks to Sarah tonight, 'cause you turned me on so much. But I'd never lay a hand on you."
"What do you mean? You already did!"
"I meant, not with the intention of ... of doing anything to you."
"Bullshit! If Mitch left now, you'd be all over me."
"I wouldn't."
"You would too!"
"Well, it makes no difference," Mitch said. "Because I'm not leaving you alone with him."
The young girl with the leaking pussy scowled back and forth at the two men, hating them almost equally just then. She picked up the champagne bottle and guzzled thirstily from its neck, set it down, and said, "You are leaving, Mitch. You're going outside that door and you're going to be quiet until I call for you, and I'll guarantee you that inside of five minutes this dirty old man will be begging me to let him fuck me."
"Oh, nonsense," said Nelson, looking acutely embarrassed now.
"Don't be silly," said Mitch. "I wouldn't leave you alone with him. Not with anybody, for that matter."
"The heck if you won't!" she said, getting up on her knees on the bed, defiantly placing her fists on her hips. "I've got something to prove, and I'm going to prove it. Get dressed and get out of here or ... or Til tell Mother about this myself!"
They both tried to argue with her, but she would not be argued with. To each of their impassioned, logical pleas, she countered with the same threat and another swill from the bottle. She sat on the bed with crossed arms and legs, completely adamant, until the two men, each more than a dozen years her senior, shrugged helplessly at each other and Mitch sighed and got up.
Lucy started her campaign to prove Nelson's true desires while Mitch was in the bathroom, washing up. She smirked confidently and winked at him, and he responded with the running of his forefinger under the starched collar of his shirt, with a longing glance at the bathroom door.
"What*s the matter, Nelson. Is it him that you like, and not me? Or should I call you Nellie?"
"Hey, now. I might be a lot of things, but I'm no fag." '
She lighted on this like a locust on a June bug, flaunting her small but very discernible charms, and saying, "You can tell me if you are. After all, you know my secret. I like to fuck and suck. If you like men, you can tell me."
"Well, I don't, damn it," he gruffly said. "I just like to look. I like to fuck too, but . . . well . . . have to look at somebody else before I can. .. . Shit, why am I explaining anything to you?"
He got up, paced toward the door, paced back, hands in his pockets, bulge apparently gone from his pants. She sat on the bed, looking very self-satisfied. When Mitch came out of the bathroom, splendidly dressed again, but looking most uneasy, Nelson said, "Listen, I'm not about to go through with this. We're all leaving. That girl is crazy, and I'm not about to stay here with her, even if you are outside in the hall. Forget about the blackmail, forget about my talking to your old lady. Just let's get the hell out of here."
The smile on Mitch's face faded as Lucy calmly said, "But don't forget about my talking to her about all this. If I have to, Nelson, you'll be out of a job, and without any sort of references at all for future employment. You might have us in your power on some things, but I have you in my power on that one."
"Don't play the headstrong child, Lucy!" Mitch admonished.
*Tm no child," she said with a crooked grin. "I just proved that."
They grinned with her anew, but now she just sat there, calm as could be, firmly and placidly in command of the situation. At length Mitch slammed out of the dingy room, leaving her alone with the man who claimed to want nothing of her but to look at her.
And when she was alone with him, the excitement she had anticipated was gone, strangely replaced by an uncomfortable feeling of not knowing how to go about proving her point, and the speculation that the point had never been worth proving to begin with. Still, she'd come this far, and had to carry it to a conclusion.
"You do like me, don't you, Nellie," she said, straightening her shoulders, thrusting out her inadequately-sized breasts at him. "I mean, more than just to look at."
He sat down in his chair again, and growled, "You're a pretty girl. But you're not worth going to jail over."
"Mitch thinks so," she said, stretching out a leg, giving him the chance to look at her little pussy, sated perhaps, but still ready for more.
"Well, I don't."
"Are you a queer?" she mildly asked, getting her feet on the floor.
"No!"
"Never sucked a cock in your life?"
"Hell, no!" he declared, but she thought from the vehemence of his answer that he was lying.
"You ought to try it," she said, looking at his crotch from the corner of her eye for a bulge. "It's a gas. I just love to suck a nice, juicy cock. I'd probably even like to suck yours, but I'd really rather have you fuck me."
"Well, I'd really rather we got the hell out of here," he bluntly averred.
Smiling and shaking her pretty head, she got to her feet and stretched, as if she'd just awakened refreshed from a nap. She took a slow step toward him, saying, "Like you said, we're in no hurry. What'll it be: fuck or suck?"
"Honest to god," he said, going pale, backing up. "I didn't have anything like this in mind when I followed you out of the theater."
"That was a long time ago," she said, still advancing on the much bigger, much older, and much more flustered individual. "But what've you got in mind now? Fuck, or suck?"
"Miss Lucy! Please!" he said, backed to the wall by her steady advance, then letting out a muffled moan of protest as she reached down her hand and groped at the front of his pants.
He tried to dodge away from her. The cloth-covered thing in her hand was small, but it was excitingly hard. She wouldn't be eluded, but took a stand before him, his sex in her hand, and then with a triumphant cry, she dropped to her knees and tore at his uniform trousers. Raising his fists to his forehead, he moaned, "No. No," but he stayed there against the wall until she had his cock free of his pants and in her mouth.
God, it was indeed small! Smaller than Robert's, and in comparison to Mitch's big sausage, just a little hot dog, but nevertheless hard, and as such, quite satisfying.
She sucked it expertly, and she derived a shivery thrill of further triumph when his moan changed to one of pleasure and his big hands came to tremble at the sides of her head. She had proved her point: he had wanted more of her than just to look at her. Still, it was a purely mechanical act, born in anger and carried out in spite. Until, that is, her suckings brought forth a strangled cry from him and she tasted his come, hot and rich, spurting into her little mouth. And at that moment she heard the door burst open and heard her stepfather's voice say, "What the hell? What the bloody hell are you making her do, Nelson!"
At that moment, in that instant, it all changed, and her act of imposed fellatio became so suddenly exciting, so instantaneously thrilling that a weird sort of untouched orgasm burst in her that added yet another new dimension of sexual experience to her growing repertoire.
Chapter Six
For a change, Fern woke up early, and as soon as she did she recalled each shameful detail of the lesbian experience she'd gone through the night before with her niece. How could she possibly have done those things? How in the name of God had Mary seduced her into such perversions? She still had the nasty, foul taste of hot pussy on her tongue, as well as a weird wort of crawling excitement in her cunt that she didn't like at all. She had to get rid of it, and even more important, she had to get rid of that phoney little angel that was her niece. Let the homosexual slut fend for herself until her inheritance came through, for Fern wanted no part of a girl with tendencies like those.
Mitch was softly snoring beside her, and looking at him, she felt even more unclean. She laid her hand on his very masculine body, and shuddered at the recollection of how that hand had somehow been led to caress Mary's body. That was unbelievable, but Mitch's body was very real, and very close. She slid her hand farther under the covers and found to her great delight that, as usual, he had a nice big early-morning erection. Without further ado, she threw back the covers and began sucking him off. It was not something she often did, and never when she was sober, but now the taste and feel of a cock in her mouth was absolutely delicious.
It was purging and purifying her and making the good feelings in her cunt all right and good, and she was hugely grateful for the presence of her naked young husband.
Mitch was dreaming that Lucy was blowing him, and it was a good dream. He smiled in his light sleep and could even feel her head with his hand, so real was the erotic dream. They were all alone in a big, luxurious bed, with Fern gone to Europe and no one to disturb them, and the way Lucy was going at it, she'd probably never stop.
He opened his eyes, and thrilled to the fact that the dream was real, then tingled with hot delight when he saw in the ceiling rnirror that it was his wife sucking him off.
"Oh, baby, what a way to wake up," he said, stroking her head.
"Mm-hmmm," she said, nodding her head, and in truth, doing a better job with her mouth than her daughter was yet capable of.
But it wouldn't be long, the way Lucy was going, before she was an expert cocksucker. He had been so thoroughly shocked when he'd entered that hotel room the night before, in answer to what he'd thought was Lucy's cry of distress, only to find her busily sucking off Nelson. He still didn't know who to believe. Nelson had at first said she'd forced her attentions on him, but then he'd more or less gone along with Lucy's insistent story that he'd coerced her into it. It really didn't matter, though. Actually, it was best for him if Lucy was making it with someone else he knew about, for then his conscience was entirely clear when it came to making out with her. But nothing mattered right now except this blow-job.
Grinning, the thought occurred to him that it was either feast or famine when it came to sex. Now that he'd succeeded in getting into Lucy's hot little pants, her mother was coming through with more sex, but somehow he'd manage to take care of both of them.
He wanted to just lie back and enjoy Fern's fine tongue-swirling techniques, but thought better of it. If he didn't reciprocate, Fern wouldn't like it a bit, and it would be a long time before she sucked him off again. He ran his hand over the backs of her thighs, drew his finger through the wet slit that creased the plumpness that bulged back from between them. She was on her knees to suck him, and he tried to pull her toward him and help her get her leg over his head so that he could have a taste of her before breakfast. She was very juicy.
"Let me eat you too, honey," he said. "Open up."
Her lips smacked loudly off the end of his very hard cock, and she panted, "No. I want you to fuck me, not eat me. Hurry, darling, I'm so ready."
She spread out on her back, helping him atop her, so very lovely and willing this morning. Christ, if she
8
was like that all the time, he'd have no need for Lucy. He slipped his spit-wet meat into her luscious cunt with ease, and right away she was coming pretty good, writhing and thrusting back at him, clutching at his shoulders and making open-throated moans of bliss that were very infectious. When she wanted to, she could really fuck, and for some reason this fine morning, she really wanted to fuck. He obliged, keeping pace with her until they grunted and groaned to a mutual climax that left them both smiling and sighing.
Fern felt good. She felt better than usual after a good orgasm, for Mitch's big cock had cleansed her of any taint of lesbianism brought on by her niece. He was still very deep inside her, milking additional orgasmic tinglings from her with his lips and hands, when the phone rang by the side of the bed. The light on the instrument went on, indicating that one of the servants had answered it. Then a few seconds later the light flashed to show that the call was for Fern.
"Let it go," Mitch said, enjoying the sweet warmth of her.
"I'd better answer it. Marty Nestor's been trying to reach me. Just hand it to me, dear."
It was her attorney and financial advisor, and she spoke to him without breaking the flesh-to-flesh connection with Mitch.
"Where in the world have you been, Fern? I've been trying frantically to reach you."
"I've been busy. What's on your mind?"
"Your affairs, your investments, as always. I've got some very serious news for you, Fern."
Her pussy seemed to close, and Mitch's cock suddenly felt most uncomfortable in it. She pushed his hand from her breast and said, "What is' it?"
"It's that two hundred acres you placed an option on in Connecticut. They want you to exercise the option now or they're going to sell it to someone else. General Electric just bought the land next to it and the value of property all over there is going sky-high."
"That's wonderful!" she said, and squeezed Mitch's cock with her pussy.
"No, it's not. You haven't got the cash to put into it."
"Well, sell some of my stock."
"At these depressed prices? You'd take a helluva beating, Fern. As it is, you've got thirty days to come up with three hundred thousand dollars, or else you'll miss out on something like half a million dollars profit on that land. Have you got the cash?"
"You know I don't, she said, irritably pushing Mitch off her now, greatly vexed.
"Then I'd better sell some stock and..."
"No! There must be another way. Let me think." She snapped her fingers and pointed at her cigarettes, and Mitch lit one for her. Exhaling a deep lungful, she said, "Leave the room, Mitch." When he was gone, she said, "How much is Indiana farmland worth?"
"I don't know. If it's good land, probably around a thousand an acre. Why?"
"So I could probably get a loan of at least three hundred thousand on four thousand acres, if I had control of it."
"Easily. But since when did you have land in Indiana?"
"I don't, yet. But I will. Tell them ni be picking up the option. And send me a Power of Attorney form. Ill talk to you later."
As she finished her cigarette, she formulated a plan. Mary was already physically in her power, and with the help of Mitch she could be emotionally in her control as well. Between them, they could get her to sign that paper, and Mitch would unquestioningly do as she told him. She called him back in the room.
"How would you like to make love to Mary?"
"What? You must be joking. I wouldn't like it at all."
"I'm not joking, and you would like it. And, my dear, I want you to do it."
"Oh, come on, Fern; Cut it out."
"I'm serious, Mitch. It means a lot to me. I want you to make love to her. She's a good-looking girl, without her funny farm clothes, and it wouldn't be unpleasant work."
"I suppose I'd do it if there was a reason, but I certainly wouldn't like it. What's it all about, anyway?"
"I'll tell you when there's a need for you to know. But now, right now, I want you to go to the guest room and make love to her."
"All the way?"
"In every way. Force her if you have to, but do it. Now."
Mary awoke late, headachey and stiff. She had no idea where she was, for a while, nor how she had gotten into the shockingly thin nightgown. The big bed, the frilly bedroom, all her surroundings seemed as unreal as the awful dreams she'd had. She was sure she was coming down with the flu, for her forehead felt hot and dry and the taste in her mouth was dreadful. Even her loins were tender. She felt herself under the covers, and the familiar touch of her private parts wasn't quite there. Her labia were swollen as well as tender, and she was more than a little wet there.
She blushed, knowing that she's scratched at herself there during the course of those terrible dreams she'd had about herself and her aunt, doing unbelievably disgusting things together. The sickness that was in her body was unlike any she'd ever known, and she began to silently pray for deliverance from it, since she could certainly never describe its symptoms to any doctor. With her hands tightly clenched on top of the covers, she fervently asked for God's help in removing the demons from her body and in quelling the irritating little itch between her legs.
The door opened, and she drew the covers up about her neck as she gazed wide-eyed at her Uncle Mitch, smiling at her as he closed the door behind him. He had a tray in his hand and she tried not to look below that, for all he had on, apparently, was a satin bathrobe that came down to his knees, and she'd never even seen a man's bare calves before, not even her father's.
"Sleep well?" he said, and she drew the covers up to her chin as he advanced toward the bed. "I brought you a little breakfast."
Tm not hungry," she said in a thin, squeaky voice. Indeed, she was hungry, but she had to get him out of there. A nice girl just didn't have a man in her bedroom, not even her uncle, and with that handsome young smile, he didn't seem at all like a relative just then. He had to leave, at once.
But he set the tray on the night stand and sat right down on her bed, and to add immensely to her embarrassed consternation, placed his hand on her knee. She could feel the warmth of it clear through the covers, and much as she wanted to, she couldn't squirm away from it because his grip was strong. He squeezed it, sending an electric shock up through her, and altered her blush from pink to scarlet by saying, "You're looking awfully pretty this morning, Mary."
"You'd better go, please. I've got to get up. Where are my things? Where are my glasses?" she said, agonized with embarrassment, and scared half to death now, for what would her aunt think if she came in and found him there?
"Have some tomato juice," he said, and to her immense relief, took his hand from her leg to fill a glass from the pitcher.
She drank, for she was terribly thirsty, and before she'd swallowed the first mouthful of the very over-spiced juice, his hand was back on her leg. The juice was so spicy that it made her eyes water, and she was already almost crying with embarrassment. He was looking at her in a most un-unclelike way, and his robe had fallen open from his thigh to expose even more of his leg. Was he trying to do something to her? Impossible, unthinkable. And yet the thought was there, brought on, no doubt, by her shameful dreams and the feverish state they'd left her in.
"That's enough juice," she said. "Would you put this glass back on the tray and leave, please?"
"Finish it," he said, still smiling, and squeezed her leg a little higher.
Hot as it was, she gulped it down-anything to get rid of him-and repeated her request, stiff as a board under the covers. She had to go to the bathroom, but above all, she had to get him out of there.
"Yes, you're really a very lovely girl," he said, and to her absolute horror, ran his hand on up her legs and squeezed her on the hip.
"Don't do that! Let me alone! Get out of here!" she cried, all in a panic now, trying to kick his hand away and hide beneath the covers.
"Don't I get a kiss for bringing you your breakfast?" he said, and reached for her with both hands.
"No! Mmph!"
Her protest was cut off with a kiss. She tried to twist away from it and still hold the covers up, and he laughed and held her by the shoulders and kissed her throat and ears as well as her futilely protesting mouth. He was terrifically strong and she couldn't hold him off with all her farm-bred strength. Her impulse was to scream, but she didn't dare summon any member of the household to be witness to these terrible advances of her uncle, and so she pleaded to him in urgent whispers.
"Let me alone. Stop it, Mitch! I won't have you doing this. Don't touch me like that!"
"Just give me a kiss and maybe 111 leave you be, honey."
"No! This isn't right!"
"Loosen up. Relax. A kiss won't hurt you."
"All right," she said, and went limp. It was her only choice. She squinted her eyes shut and pursed her lips, and his arm slipped around her shoulders and his very warm mouth covered hers. Almost unbearably uncomfortable, she counted up to twenty while he was doing it, and then was panting for breath the instant he released her. She said, "You've got to go now."
"That was no kiss, and I'm not leaving till I get one. Open your mouth this time, damn it."
"No, I. . ."
He caught her this time with her mouth open, and when his tongue lanced in between her lips, all the shame of her awful dreams returned and she had to push at him and try to twist away again. He easily bore her down on her back and held her there, still kissing her, while through her mind ran dreadfully shameful feelings and emotions. As he kissed her and tried to choke her with his tongue, she grew faint from lack of breath, and when she at last had to draw in a big lungful of air through her nostrils, it made her dizzy.
"You're improving," he said, "but slowly. Once you get turned-on, you might be as hot a piece as Fern."
"If you don't stop this minute and get out of here, I'll call her. I will, Mitch."
"One more kiss, and put something into it this time. Make like you enjoy it, and I just might go."
Angrily now, she slung her arms about his neck and dragged him into one of those kisses she'd seen on a neighbor's television. It would surely make him leave. Repugnant as it was, she used her tongue in imitation of his, and she felt the rigid strength go out of him as if he was becoming manageable once again. She let the kiss dwell, for she wanted him to have no more excuses to stay, and she did her best to act as if she was indeed enjoying it.
That wasn't really so hard to do, for it wasn't altogether unpleasant now that he wasn't being so insanely demanding. She tried to concentrate on her acting, and not think about her her thinly covered body really wanting to move against his. With her arms about his neck, the covers were down far enough so that there was very little between his chest and her breasts. Her breasts were being mashed down by his weight on her and they felt very swollen and full, the nipples hard and burning. Her loins felt all fidgety and even warmer and wetter than before, and she tried to combat this by squeezing her thighs tightly together, while the kiss went on and on. It was awful having another person's tongue against hers, but still there was a strange flavor about it that she found shamefully compelling, and she couldn't help thinking how sweet such kisses might be once she was wed to the man of her dreams. She lost count of the seconds that the kiss lasted, and for a time she thought that it might never end, but then she could pant for breath again through her swollen and tingling lips as he lowered his mouth to the hollow of her throat and nuzzled there like a starving lamb.
"All right. I did it," she whispered. "Now, go. Go before somebody comes, and don't you ever dare to come back again!"
He straightened up, and through the mists of confusion she watched in horror as he undid the sash of his robe, shrugged it off his shoulders, and exposed himself to her, saying, "How do you expect me to leave now, when you've got my cock so big and hard?'*
Chapter Seven
"EEK! HELP! GET AWAY FROM ME!" All . thought of maintaining some sort of propriety was gone, and Mary screamed and scrabbled backward on the bed, away from that enormous penis that jutted from his loins. Bulls, horses, rams, boars-she'd seen their erect organs many times before and had thought little about it, but now this human penis had her in a state of frenzied panic. Over and over she screamed, but he just laughed and pursued her, catching her by the wrist, pulling her toward him though she clawed and kicked like a wildcat to hold him off.
He laughed at her. He twisted her arm up behind her back and made it so painful she had to submit to being pulled against his muscular body, now with only the flimsy white nightie separating his flesh from hers. Tears were streaming down her face, and still she struggled through pain, for his big, naked penis was dangerously close to her now. She could feel its heat radiating against her, and she could see it from the corners of her wide, panic-stricken eyes no matter where she looked. "HELP! HE'S RAPING ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" she screamed, blowing that at any moment the door would open and they'd get this madman away from her.
"Don't be so noisy," he said, and twisting her arm farther up between her shoulder blades, he kissed her again.
His hand went to her breast, and she had to hold still for it. In a second or a minute, her aunt would come to help her, and she could stand anything for that long, even the pain, even the humiliation, even those strange, hot feelings that were slowly spreading through her body. Was this how he had made love to her aunt? Did men always force their attentions on women who struck their fancy? Was she really a 'hot piece,' like her aunt? She prayed for an end to her ordeal, and although the pain diminished somewhat then, those hot feelings continued to spread. He was working them into her body with his hand on her breast. That was the offensive hand now, not the one holding her wrists, and it was even harder to fight against. Pain she knew, but these gushing feelings of shivering desire that were being forced on her were new and she didn't know how to handle them, except to go on screaming and begging, and now she was beginning to despair of any help coming.
"Say, that's a beautiful pair of tits you've got." he said, sitting up to look at what he'd been feeling.
He went on feeling them too. While she wept and writhed on her bed of shame, he squeezed and kneaded and tweaked them through the thin nylon, then rucked up the nightie and used his strong, hot hand on her bare flesh. When she turned her head to look away from the obscene hand on her virginal breasts, there was his huge penis before her, adding to her shame.
"So help me God," she gasped, "I'll get even with you for all this even if it means killing you!"
"You're loving every minute of it. You'd kill me now if I stopped, you phoney little prude," he said, and ran his hand down over her lightly perspiring tummy to the thick tuft of light tan pubic hair that covered her seething slit.
"I don't! I don't like it at all!" she cried, hating him anew, for he was right, it was even more thrilling than the erotic dreams she'd had about her aunt the night before.
The hot feelings were everywhere in her body by then, in danger of exploding as they had in her dream. The pain in her arm had been going on for so long that the limb now seemed paralyzed behind her back. She struck weakly at him with her other fist and twisted her shoulder and hips, clenching her legs even more tightly together, and he just went on, calmly smiling down at her and moving his hand all around her loins. It was both bad and good, terrible and wonderful, with her physical strength waning and with a strange sense of everything being all right seeping in on her.
"GAHHH," she groaned, as the tip of his finger slipped into the top of her brimful slit, lancing her to the core with undeniably thrilling feelings.
He chuckled, and then with the ball of his finger he rubbed her distended clitoris very hard, and she became temporarily insane. "Mitch, I can't stand that!" she gasped, at the same time opening her legs wide, bracing her feet flat on the mattress, and thrusting her hips up at his wonderful, electrifying finger.
"You're even hotter than I thought you were," he said, and delved all about in her sodden slit with his fingers, making every bit of it feel fully as sensitive as her clitoris. "Beautiful girl," he said. "All sexy and hot and ready to go. And you smell good too. Want me to eat it a little? Want me to lick your pretty cunt?"].
"No. That's wrong," she gasped, straining up at his hand.
He kissed her, working his tongue in and out of her mouth just as he was working his finger in and out of her slit, and he murmured hotly against her lips, "You don't want me to lick your cunt? You don't want to go a little sixty-nine before I fuck you?"
"I want you to . . . leave me alone," she panted, clutching at his hand, opening her legs wider for it, having no idea at all of what the number was that he referred to.
"You don't want me to kiss you here, eh?" he said, and smacked a kiss on her saturated pubic mound that sent her soaring on wings of ecstasy. "You don't want me to kiss your cunt?"
"Yesssss," she heard herself hiss. "Do it. Kiss it."
"I'm going to have to let go of your arm to do it. Will you be good now, and not try to fight me?"
"Just kiss it, touch it, I'm dying!" she said, clawing at the wonderful, burning itch herself now in her need.
''Right here? In your cunt?" he said, and rubbed her bursting clitoris very hard again.
"YES! YES, KISS MY CUNT... NOW!"
He turned and swooped down on it as it came to meet him. He met it first with his lips, and these he used to suck her clit so quickly and so hard that she was sure it had indeed burst and carried her right along with it in a flash of brilliant, blinding light. And when he had it sucked out to three times its normal size, he lashed it with his tongue, making the stars burst all around her in an even more heavenly display of pyrotechnics. She was out of control now, thrashing and heaving and sweating on the bed, and not caring at all, just as long as this heavenly delight continued. She gave herself up completely to her delights, grabbing at the hair of his head and trying to shove him clear up inside her cunt, insanely happy in the fever of heat.
Then a warmth and a thick, sweet odor assailed her and she was being jostled about the head. She opened her lust-glazed eyes to see him straddling her head, the heavy sac of testicles and that great, obscene organ just over her face.
"TAKE IT AWAY! I WON'T KISS IT!" she cried, tossing her head from side to side, even as she was bucking her hips up for more of his wonderful kissing mouth.
Again she was being torn in two. Her body was exploding with orgasm after marvelous orgasm, while her brain was ejecting everything about the experi- ence, and especially that big male organ just over her tear-streaked face. In her thrashings, his penis and testicles actually brushed against her face, and she couldn't even scream for fear he'd jam them all into her mouth, while below, the wet slurpings of his tongue kept her wildly hot body in frenzied motion.
"NO! NO! MMPH!" He did try to stick it in her mouth, and now she was suffocating with her nostrils in the reeking hollow of his groin, and with those creepily soft balls pressing against her cheek like lewd little animals. "MMMPH! YES!" she cried, as she felt him slip two wriggling fingers into her hole and make her come in yet another way.
He turned around and kissed her on the mouth, and the taste of her cunt made her know that the experience she'd had with Fern had not been a dream at all. It had been as real as this, but nowhere near as wonderful, now that his organs were gone from her face, and she had to know him all the way, right to the end, even though it meant the loss of her cherished virginity.
"I'm going to fuck you now, Mary," he said, and at the sound of that awful word, it all changed again.
"No! I'm a virgin. You can't."
"Don't tell me I can't, he said, and easily wedged his big, strong body in between her legs, making her cunt yawn and gape for him.
"You'll tear me. Til bleed all over everything and everyone will know," she said, when she felt the size of his organ, so very close to her yearning, yet cringing cunt.
"You'll love it, baby," he said, and taking his penis in hand, he rubbed that enormous blunt end of it up and down the length of her tender little trench. "You're just like your aunt, Mary. You were made for cock, you'll just love cock, once you've had a taste of it."
"Cock," she gasped. "Give me cock," she said, and showed a great natural talent for gyrating her hips until she'd accurately centered her tight little hole under the big wedge of meat that he held between her legs.
"Ready to fuck now, are you?" he said, and made her body arch and her legs strain farther apart, just by thrusting an inch of that wedge into her.
"Just do it. Just put it in!" she said, and by bucking and humping in a way she hadn't known she was capable of, she succeeded in getting yet another inch of what she had to have from him.
From chickens to dogs to horses, she'd seen the act of coitus performed a thousand times, the same act that she'd read guilty references about, the same which her parents had never discussed with her. She had never understood what drove the animals to do it, nor what there was about it that turned man into animals. Now she understood. It was so utterly good, so perfectly delightful and satisfying, even with the pain involved, that her only wonder was that animals and people ever stopped doing it once they'd started.
A part of him was inside her body. At least a pound of his flesh was tightly stuck into her, which was a miracle in itself, and at each of its smallest movements in her, the miracle was getting even better.
She hugged him around the neck and crooned and cried out in her happiness, locked her legs about his waist and did all she could to make the delight last forever. Even his balls slapping against her fully exposed asshole was a delight, and her only regret was that she'd resisted him for so long when he'd known exactly what it was that she'd needed, right from the start. She wanted to laugh and shout with glee, to clasp his hands even more tightly over her breasts, to spur him on to even faster, even deeper thrusts with his wonderful, wonderful cock; and all of these and more she did with unashamed gusto, so deeply ensnared with the physical delights and the all-consuming love he was bringing her.
It was all too perfect. It couldn't be improved upon. But then, just as easily as the other miracles he'd performed, he made it even better. He uttered a strangled groan, and she distinctly felt his wonderful cock swell even more in her overburdened cunt. Instinctively, she knew that he had been overtaken by the same wonderful feelings that soared and burst in her, and that he was ejaculating in her, proving his love for her.
"I LOVE YOU! I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU ALWAYS!" she cried, and the sweetness inside her was so strong that it overflowed. Her love juices were flowing down over her anus as he pumped and humped, deep inside her, too overcome to verbally return her statement of love. The orgasm was shattering, releasing things too long pent-up in her very ripe body. Her heart felt as if it would burst, and in fact, her bladder did, and as he surged and pumped to the end of their marvelous mutual climax, her urine came gushing out of her in a torrent that added the perfect final crescendo to the wet sloshings of their perfect act of love. He slowed and stopped, and she fell into a smiling swoon, arms and legs falling away from him, body deflating with a long, drawn-out sigh, utterly content.
Mitch said something, laughing, but Mary was too close to unconsciousness to understand it. "Wha'?" she murmured.
"I said, you're a damned good fuck, baby. And I literally fucked the piss right out of you. Is that standard for you?"
His vulgarity chilled her and renewed her shame, and she said, "I couldn't help it. Let me up." .
"No, tell me. Do you always, wet the bed when you come? Have you ever done it before?"
"No! But then I've never been raped before either," she angrily said. "Get off me. Get your awful . . . thing out of me."
"My cock?" he said, working it in deeper. "Don't you want to fuck some more? Don't you love me any more?"
"I hate you!" she said, trying to claw at his handsome, smiling face. "Let me up."
"Let's see if you have one more little come in you, Mary," he said, and began wriggling his body atop hers, grinding his furry pubic bone against her clit.
"DON'T! STOP IT!" she cried, beating at him again. "HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH TO ME ALREADY, YOU . .. OOOOOO! OH, GOD HELP ME! OHHHHHH! AYYYYY! WHAT'S HAP . . . AARRRRGGGH!"
"C'mon, baby. One more come for old Uncle," he said, gloating over her, mashing her clitoris and making all the wonderful feelings return so quickly she had no chance to resist them. "One more quick little fuck."
"STOP IT! URRRRGGGH! OH, ITS SO GOOD, I LOVE IT SO."
"Love to fuck, do you? Is that it? Do you love to fuck?"
"LOVE TO FUCK, LOVE TO FUCK," she gasped, thrusting back hard, straining for all she was worth to reach that delirious peak of pleasure again, and almost achieving it before he stopped.
"Yeah, you're a good lay," he said, and slapping her smartly on the flank, he jerked his cock free of her drooling cunt and rolled off her.
For an instant, Mary felt terribly empty, awfully lonely. Then her modesty returned, and she quickly rolled away from him, trying to cover herself with the inadequate nightie, trying to pull some bedclothes over her violated body. The grinning man now looked like the devil himself, and she hated him roundly, but no less than she hated herself for having been so overwhelmed by the pleasures of the flesh. She was dazed and still afraid of him, and thoroughly disgusted with herself as she scrambled out of bed and scurried toward the bathroom, holding the nightie down over her bottom as she went.
She expected her loins to be covered with blood, but there was none to be seen. There was pain to be felt there, but nothing like that which she'd expected from being raped. But had she been raped? Heavens, at times she'd even cooperated with him, and that was dreadful, unforgivable. Weak in every part of her body, she leaned against the basin and gazed dully at her reflection in the mirror, and it turned her stomach. Her hair was a rat's nest, her eyes dull and heavy-lidded, and her mouth so kiss-bruised that it looked like she was wearing lipstick. Even through the white nylon, her nipples could be seen as bright as her lips, and still erect from the terrible excitement that had so unexpectedly seized her. It wasn't a real soreness she felt in her loins, but a consciousness of herself there, an awareness of the existence of her vagina that she feared she might never get over. This, she decided, was because she was already pregnant, because the hated seed of that abominable rapist was already growing in her.
She clutched at her belly, wanting to cry, although tears had done her absolutely no good in bed. Now was the time for practicality, not hysterics. Get into the shower, do what she could about washing his seed out of her, and then go straight to her aunt and let her know what kind of a monster she was married to.
The warm water felt good, but she would have much preferred being in the old cast iron bathtub in Indiana. She clumsily held open the swollen lips of her shamefully responsive sex and splashed water up inside her drooling vagina, hating her body nearly as much as she hated her uncle.
She leapt at the sound of the shower door opening, and then there he was again. She covered herself as best she could with her hands, even though he'd already harmed her far more than by just depriving her of her modesty, and she said, "Go away! Leave me alone, you... you brute."
"Just want to save some water by sharing your shower," he said, closing the door behind him.
His penis, though still huge, was no longer erect, and he therefore was no longer frightening. He was an object of scorn now, not fear, and she said, "I wouldn't share anything with you."
He laughed and tried to grab her. "Not anything but your bed. Give us a kiss, Mary dear."
Wet and soapy as she was, she could slip out of his hands, but as small as the shower stall was, she couldn't escape from him. He cornered her and got her, placed his dirty hands on her soiled body, and gloated over what he'd done to her. He kissed her and she stoically submitted to it, for he'd done far worse to her, and she cringed back from the soft lump of his organ against her loins.
Then his tongue slipped into her mouth, stirring a fast, hot spark of remembrance from the dead cells of her body. She pushed at him, and he pushed back with his body, flattening her against the wall and making her feel the slow swelling of his cock. Ahh, it had felt so good in her, and now it was stiffening, wanting to be able to get in her again, used and dirty as she was. She pushed harder at him, and now her hand skidded off his chest and went around his neck, and the memories of that other erotic time she'd had in that shower came on so strongly that she was clinging to the rapist and kissing him just as ardently as he was kissing her. His cock was hard, wonderfully hard, and she grabbed it in her hand and tried to shove it against her cunt, making little whimpering pleadings through the hot, lovely kiss.
"Want to fuck again, do you?" he said. "Don't talk. Just do it, quickly. Do it, and . . . and I won't tell Fern about any of this."
"I'd take you up on that, but it's not up all the way yet."
"It is! It's as big as ever!" she said, as hot as ever, and now totally eager to transfer it from hand to cunt.
"What I need is a nice little blow-job to get me ready.'*
"B-blow-job?" she said, testing and retesting the hardness of him with her hand.
"I wish you'd stop playing the role of the dumb little country cousin and get with it. I want you to suck me off, honey. I want you to give me a blow-job before I fuck you again."
"Su-su-su .. ? she stammered, all feverish now under the warm water.
"Suck my cock," he said, and turning off the water, he led the unresisting girl back into the bedroom.
"I can't do that, I won't do that," she said, shivering, trying to keep her hold on the cock she needed in her. "Please, Mitch. Please, just fu-fuck me."
"No. You su-suck me first," he said, and there at the edge of the bed, gave her a kiss that further weakened her. He sat down and smacked a kiss on her wet fur, and at once she was grabbing at his curly hair again.
"Oh, no." He laughed, and disengaged her hands, "You're going to do me now," he said, and grabbing her by the hips, easily forced her to her knees before him.
She started to protest anew, but one look at his cock stopped her words. It was fully erect, pointing at her from his loins, magnificently strong and wonderfully beautiful. He told her to take it in her mouth, and she found herself bending forward, her saliva glands functioning wildly. "Suck it a little, baby, and then I'll fuck you," he said, and she bent lower still. "Where's your pussy?" he asked, searching for it with his toes, and she grabbed his foot and shoved it against herself, then grabbed his cock in her hand and placed her lips on its end.
It was satiny smooth, quite unlike the hot iron she'd expected, and with a murmur of delight she sucked the big knob of it in and sought for that wickedly lovely taste that she'd only smelt up till then. It was not there. He tasted of fresh water and the hint of soap, and it was all the texture and form of it in her mouth that was so thrilling ... that and those wriggling toes in her pussy.
"It seems as if you like cocksucking too," he said, and she nodded her head and sucked more warmly, all aglow with the knowledge that a girl's cunt wasn't the only place that was receptive to a man's cock. She could taste hints of the maleness she'd smelled before in bed, and she sought for more of it as she settled more snugly against his moving foot.
Chapter Eight
When Lucy awoke, as late as usual, she lay for a while in bed, idly stroking her pussy while she again reflected on the wildly sexy time she'd had with Mitch and Nelson in the hotel room the night before. Fooling with the servants was, of course, a practice which was far below her, but indulging in that forbidden act had been every bit as exciting as getting it on with Mitch. That was strange, for Nelson really had nothing to offer in comparison to her stepfather. He was too old and he wasn't really handsome and his pecker was insignificantly sized, and she therefore concluded that it had been the sheer forbiddenness of the sex act with him that had made it so thrilling. Unfortunately, it had made Mitch very mad at her, so much so that she'd have to seduce him all over again from the start, and Mitch's subdued anger at Nelson had probably frightened the chauffeur into taking a hands-off position toward her in the future. Perhaps it was just as well, though. She could get into a lot of trouble if her mother ever found out about her and Mitch, and she really had no desire to ever make it again with Nelson. It had been a wild fling, and now it was over and she should kiss and make up with Robert, chalking up the hotel room experience in her book of adolescent adventures. That morning, she had no real desire for any of the three men in her life, but she did have to call Robert and make amends for the silly little argument they'd had.
She used her private phone at the bedside and, as she'd expected, it took only a few minutes of sweet talking on it before Robert was on his way over to see her, wanting to finally resolve their argument in person. She got up and showered and dressed, putting on a little pink cotton dress that Robert was particularly fond of, and then went out to the kitchen for some breakfast. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, and with but half an hour before Robert was due to arrive, Lucy irritably went to the cook's room to rouse her.
The two servants each had a small room behind the kitchen, and Lucy went to Sarah's door and was about to knock when she heard muted pantings coming from within. Nelson, she decided, was probably in there with her, busily expending the sexual energies that his encounter with Lucy had inspired. She felt like rousting Sarah out of there, for she was hungry and wanted breakfast, but then decided to let the servants have their sordid little fun while she settled for a glass of milk with which to start the day. She started on past Nelson's room, and seeing the door slightly ajar, paused long enough to peep in. To her surprise, there was Nelson, or at least a thin strip of him, visible through the similarly open bathroom door. Curious, she slipped inside and tiptoed to his bathroom, pushed the door open, and caught him with his head inside the medicine cabinet over his sink, and the bulge in his trousers resting on the edge of that sink.
For a moment, he was surprised to see her, but then he held his fingers to his lips and pointed to the interior of the cabinet. Frowning quizzically, she looked where he was pointing, through a small hole in the back of the metal-lined cabinet. The view she got was of the interior of Sarah's adjacent bathroom, as seen through her open medicine cabinet, with Sarah lewdly sprawled on the toilet, skirts up about her waist, manipulating a long white plastic device in the gaping red wound between her thick legs. The plump cook was panting and moaning in a disgusting manner, and Lucy looked away, to Nelson's face, flushed and reddened, and almost as disgusting to her as the sight of Sarah fucking herself with the piece of plastic. Nelson shushed her again, but she had nothing at all to say to him. She headed out of the room, and he caught her in the hall.
"Helluva show, eh? Did it get to you, Lucy?" he asked, squeezing her waist, then her breast.
"I thought I made it clear. I'm a doer, not a looker, and I sure don't feel like doing anything with you." She headed back toward the kitchen, deliberately swinging her petite hips widely to show her scorn for him. She paused at the kitchen door and smirked over her shoulder at the gaping fool, then flipped up the back of her skirt to give him just a glimpse of what sort of thing he should be looking at. She felt very self-satisfied when he followed her down the hall.
When he entered the kitchen, she was presenting him with an even better view of her. Stiff-legged, she was bent over to examine the contents of the refrigerator's bottom shelf. Her skirt was short enough so that much of her panty-clad bottom was exposed, and a lovely tingle went through that part of her when she heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight of her.
"Don't let me keep you from your peeking, Nelson. I can manage for myself just fine here."
"That sure looks awful good, Miss Lucy. Mind if I stay and sort of watch you?"
The scrape of a chair behind her sent queer, good shivers down through her bottom, and she said as casually as she could, "I don't care what you do, but it wouldn't be good if my mother caught you staring at me."
"Your mother's busy at something. She told me and Sarah to keep to the back of the house for a while. Yeah, you sure look good, Lucy."
From over her shoulder, she sneered openly at him, and he continued to grin at her upturned bottom in a most pathetic but somehow stimulating way. Boldly, she thumbed her panties down to mid-thigh and waggled her ass, on a level with his face, and felt that queer excitement in her increase sharply with the look of lust on his craggy face. "Might as well have a good look then," she said.
He licked his lips and adjusted the front of his pants. He was just as excited as he'd been while watching them in the hotel room, and now there was no doubt that he was watching only her. She turned to face him, and now the good feelings were there in her cunt, exactly where he was staring so intently. Still registering disdain for his aberration, she tucked the hem of her skirt in the waistband of it and provocatively worked her panties down over her kness, then over her feet. With one hand, she swung them in a circle, in the fashion of a stripper she'd seen once in a film, and with the other, she parted her swelling cunt lips to feel his hot gaze directly on her most sensitive parts. The poor fool looked as if he might cream in his jeans, and she sauntered and hip-slung her way toward him, wishing and hoping he'd do just that. She tossed her panties in his face, and his only reaction was to blink and go right on staring.
Her small, open cunt was but a foot from his face, though it didn't feel so small just then. It felt as if it would accommodate her whole fist as she worked two ringers in it, saying as she did, "So you like to see women play with themselves, eh?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I sure do," he breathed, and the touch of his breath was very warming. "I like to look at you, Miss Lucy."
"That makes you a pervert, you know," she said, working those fingers in her cunt, greatly relishing this easy power she held over him.
He nodded, and she made him sigh and wilt by drawing her wetted fingers across his upper lip. "I bet you'd like to eat it. I bet you'd like to fuck it. Well, you can't. All you can do is look." "That's all I want," he murmured. "But if you wanted me to, I'd ..."
"I don't want you to do anything to me, you queer," she snapped, though her cunt was by then aching for a touch. She moved six inches closer, where she could feel his breath all the time, and sneered, "I wouldn't let you touch me if you got down on your knees and begged."
She started to lower the hem of her skirt, and all at once he was on his knees, hands elapsed behind his back, blurting, "Just let me look, just a little more."
She swayed toward him, lifting her skirt again, and was just about to feel his mouth as well as his breath on her seeting loins, when the door chimes sounded.
"Damn. That'll be Robert," she said.
"I guess I'd better answer it," he said. "Your mother said she didn't want to be disturbed."
"What's she doing that's so important?"
"I don't know. She's waiting around outside the guest room," he said, rising, hiding the bulge in his pants.
"Til answer the door, and you can go back to peeping at Sarah," said Lucy, walking off, switching her little ass, all aglow with how she'd turned Nelson on, but frustrated by her need to tease him even more. But Robert would do. He was quite teasable, in a different sort of way.
In many ways, Robert was just the boy Lucy wanted. He was four years older then she and in his second year at college, and this provided prestige for Lucy in the eyes of her girlfriends. He was good look- ing and athletic and he had a car, as well. His trouble was that he was square. He drank nothing stronger than beer, he didn't take any drugs whatsoever, and he expected more fidelity from Lucy than she was prepared to offer. Their argument had come about because she'd agreed to wear his fraternity pin, but had balked at going steady with him. The argument had in turn led to Lucy's making it with Mitch, which proved to her that lovers' quarrels had their good sides as well as their bad. And Robert was a good lover, the best Lucy had had, until her stepfather. Robert's only fault at lovemaking was that he was unimaginative, and as such, there was a tendency for their sex sessions to be boring of late.
As always, he was nicely dressed when she opened the door for him, wearing slacks and a sweater, his brown hair neatly combed, and bearing a box of candy in his hands that immediately told her that he'd given in on the argument they'd had.
The fifteen-year-old girl went on tiptoe to greet him with a hot little kiss, and with her arms about his neck, the elevation of her skirt reminded her that she was without panties. If Robert knew, he'd die, but to Lucy it was a kick. He wanted to come in and talk, but Lucy suggested they go up to the roof garden for that, and he agreed. Riding up in the elevator, she held his hand tightly, pressing the back of it against her hip, feeling sexual excitement grow in her.
The roof garden was shared by all the tenants of the big apartment house, and used mostly by the children living there. There were perhaps a score of them up there, some playing on the slide and swings, some peering through the tall fence that rimmed the roofs parapet, a few sleeping in strollers with their mothers in lazy attendance. Robert led Lucy to an umbrellaed table where they sat down.
He started talking about his school, about the social events coming up, and worked the one-sided conversation around to the possibility of their going steady. She listened with half an ear, finding even the activities of the children around them to be more interesting than what he was saying, and she amused herself by giving his thigh a nice little massage, and observing how his rising excitement affected his speech. She didn't touch his prick, but she came close enough to it so that she had him stammering and sweating, and then that too got to be boring.
Lucy then noticed two boys, about fifteen, who were at the edge of the roof about forty feet in front of where they were sitting. The boys had a telescope which they'd been using to look at the city with. Now a very considerable thrill went through her as she saw that its lens had been turned on her. Almost the moment she noticed it, the boys quickly turned it back on the city below, but she was sure they'd been looking at her. Talking to Robert, she watched them from the corner of her eye, and sure enough, the long black instrument was again swung toward her. She could see that the two boys had their heads together and were giggling, and she cast a half-smile in their direction to let them know that she didn't really mind their admiration of her. But when she turned to look at them again, they quickly looked away, as if not knowing of her existence.
Lucy turned back to Robert, and when from the corner of her eye she saw the scope swing toward her again, she shifted in her chair and slowly opened her legs. The boy holding the telescope froze, and his companion tugged at his sleeve and grabbed for the scope. A lovely thrill shot through Lucy as the two adolescents fought for the privilege of looking at her. She opened her legs wider and managed to hike her skirt up a bit, and as with Nelson, she could actually feel their eyes on her pussy. The feeling made it moisten, and she ached to get her fingers in it now, but still she went on talking with Robert, squeezing his leg, arousing him without his having any idea at all of how hot she was getting.
She slowly turned her head to face the boys, and now they were so absorbed in observing her under the table that they didn't notice she was looking directly at them, smiling as she spoke with Robert. She had Robert hot, but not nearly as hot as the boys were. Undoubtedly they both had stiff pricks as they passed the spy glass back and forth. Surely they could see her hairy patch, and she ardently hoped they could see a little ribbon of wet pink flesh as well. To insure that they could, she glanced about to see that no one else was looking, then casually drew her hand up her leg, pulled aside one warmly wet labia, and brought her hand up to brush back her long dark hair. Again, the boy with the glass froze, having followed the course of her hand to her face, having seen her looking back at him. She smiled and winked, and she could see his mouth fall open. He spoke to the other boy, who immediately snatched the telescope away and looked for himself, and then their grins and nudgings were even more exciting to Lucy.
She wondered just exactly how her pussy looked to them. It probably filled the eyepiece of the telescope, so that all they saw when they looked there was black hair and pink flesh, hugely exciting to young boys that age. She yawned her legs wider, to show them more pink. It was highly probable that they could see her clit, for by then it was so swollen with her weird lust that she could feel it sticking out from between the juicy lips of her cunt. She touched herself again, this time slipping her fingertip inside her vagina, just as each of those bratty boys wanted so badly to do. Even more badly, they surely wanted to run off someplace and jerk off, but they'd stay right where they were as long as she continued to provide them with a show. The sun was warm, but she was warmer by far. She was hot, so hot she was trembling with it, and there were beads of perspiration forming under her arms. A few stories below, her cousin Mary might be a better-looking girl, but there was no doubt in Lucy's mind that of the two of them, she was the sexier.
Still Robert went on talking, saying she knew not what. She saw him now as a very stupid, very dull person. And Mitch and Nelson, they were dull too, in comparison to these two sexed-up boys she had staring at her. Christ, she could get little boys like those to do anything she wanted. They'd worship her, they'd be her slaves, and they'd love every moment of it.
At last, when her heat was such that she could stand it no longer, she said, "Robert, would you be a dear and go down to the apartment and bring us up a pitcher of lemonade?"
He readily agreed, and after surreptitiously rearranging the front of his pants, got up and left. The moment he was gone, Lucy's grin broadened, and with her hand between her legs, she crooked a beckoning finger to the boys with the telescope.
They pointed to their chests, saying, "Who, me? They looked at each other, then back at her, and grinning sheepishly, they slowly came forward. One was stocky, the other spindly. One had a few pimples on his face, the other had slightly buck teeth. What Lucy really noticed, though, was that both of them had stiff peckers inside their pants.
"Did you enjoy the show, boys?" she asked when they got to the table.
They both giggled like girls. "Yeah," they said.
She asked them their names. "Jeff," said the stocky one. "Jimmy," said the bony one.
"Would you like a better look?" she asked. "A close look, where you don't have to use the telescope?"
They were practically pawing the floor in their excitement, and at the same time guiltily looking around them, fearing others might have seen what they were up to. No one else had. The other children were busy playing, and the two baby-sitting mothers had departed from the roof garden by then. Lucy rose on shaking legs and headed for a big ventilator that occupied a corner of the roof, proud of herself for the false poise she was showing before the boys, and supremely confident that they were both right on her heels. Safely behind the ventilator, she turned and faced them, hands on hips, fingers drawing up the hem of her skirt to a point where her itchy little cunt almost showed. It took a great deal of effort to speak in an unwavering voice.
"Well? Who wants to look first? Or do you both want to see me up close at the same time?"
They giggled, and then both crouched down as she slowly raised her skirt. They glanced nervously behind them, then got to their knees, right at her feet, and commented on what she was showing them.
"It's not as hairy as it looked through the telescope."
"It looks weird."
"I dunno, I sorta like it."
"Where does a guy... you know... put it in?"
"Right here," she said, spreading her feet and bending her knees to squat obscenely before them. "Right here," she said, and drew back her dewy wet lips to show them the orifice of her vagina.
Each of their oohs and aahs, and even their giggles, were an added excitement to her, making her cunt a richer shade of pink and making her labia wetter and more swollen in her fingers. "And this is my clit, my love bump," she breathlessly explained, and drawing back its little sheath with two fingers, she ex- traded that highly sensitive organ for them and squeezed it nice and hard for herself.
"Do you think I'm pretty there?" she asked.
"Well, yeah," Jeff doubtfully answered.
"It's a whole lot prettier than a guy's thing," Jimmy said.
"Want to touch it, boys?"
There was no disagreement or hesitation at this suggestion, but she stopped their hands with a sharp command before they could touch her eagerly awaiting flesh. "No, not yet. First I want to see yours."
Jeff was reluctant, but Jimmy cast another glance over his shoulder and ripped open the zipper of his pants. He took out his prick. Like the rest of him, it was slender and long. Then she allowed him to touch her exposed loins, and as rough and inexperienced as his touch was, she found it to be thrilling. It was thrilling too, the way Jeff so quickly followed in taking out his shorter, more stubby prick, so that he too could grasp and poke at her most private flesh.
Her head was swimming now with hot desire. She felt she was no longer a fifteen-year-old girl, but a mature and voluptuous film star whom people would pay to see. Their hands got rougher as they both felt her cunt together. Those four little hands were dirty as well as clumsy. Poking and prying, they hurt her, but even the pain was good with those two pair of admiring eyes so close to her, and Lucy's legs grew so weak that she had to sit down suddenly. The hot concrete of the roof burned her bare ass so that she jerked her hips forward, thrusting her cunt harder still against those exploring hands. The pent-up lusts in her little body exploded then.
"AH! AH! Stick your fingers in me, you little brat! Get down there and kiss it!"
"Jeez, I think she's comin'," Jeff said, in awe of the spectacle of her writhing in ecstasy, skirt up to her waist, little hips contorting madly.
"Man, she sure is!" said Jimmy. "Let's fuck her. You wanna fuck her? You gonna let us fuck you, lady?"
"You have to kiss it first," she said, panting, gasping for breath. "Both of you."
They hesitated, looking at each other, and Lucy summoned her self-control and spread her little legs farther, moving more, provocatively still under the attentions of their hands. "Kiss it," she said. "You'll like it, I know you will. And then I'll let you both fuck me. I promise."
"Aw, what the heck," Jeff mumbled, and took Jimmy's place as the bolder of the two by bending and pecking a fast kiss on her wet and hairy mound. It wasn't anywhere near as thrilling as Mitch's experienced tongue in her cunt, but somehow, in her exposed and vulnerable position, it was even more satisfying.
The boy came forward on his knees, his short, fat prick in his hand, grinning lewdly and quite ready to stick it in her. "Wait a second," said the other. "I'm not gonna kiss it after you've fucked her."
"Then kiss it now!" Lucy said, and when he at last bent to do it, she caught him by the hair of his head and ground his protesting mouth into her wet flesh.
"OH! OH, GOD THAT'S GOOD. EAT IT. EAT IT!"
She felt him use his tongue, and it brought her to another peak of orgasm, brief as it was. He liked it, it seemed, and would have given her a good tonguing, had it not been for his friend's eagerness.
"Hey, get away. I get to fuck her now. I kissed it first, so I get to fuck her first."
"Do it," she panted. "Fuck me. Now!"
"Well, I . . ." he said, positioning himself between her legs. "I don't exactly know how."
"You're virgins? Both of you? Beautiful, just beautiful!" she said, feeling even more worldly and mature. "Get on your back. I'll fuck you."
Jeff did as he was told, and Lucy was helped up by Jimmy to take a straddled position over his friend. Jeff's cock was adorable in her mind, and as hard as she'd ever felt one to be. Grinning down at him, sighing, she worked it into the orifice of her cunt and wriggled down on it.
"Don't come yet," she panted. "Make it last. And you're next," she said to Jimmy, and took his more slender but equally hard cock in her hand.
"How is it, Jeff?" Jimmy eagerly asked. "What's it like?"
"I dunno. It's really weird, but it's a whole lot better than beating off."
He was trying to thrust up into her, but she stopped him. "I'll do the work, Jeff. And, Jimmy, I'll keep you ready by giving you a little B J if you like."
"I'l say!" he exclaimed, and was on his feet at once.
She moved only slightly on Jeff's straining cock as she quickly pulled Jimmy's trousers down around his knees and took his cock in her mouth. Then she could please both of them at once, and make them even more deeply in her debt. It was pleasing to her, too, and especially so when from the corner of her eye she saw three children's faces peering at her in shocked silence from around the corner of the ventilator.
Chapter Nine
Armed with a Bloody Mary, Fern patrolled the hallway outside the guest room. She was nervous, waiting for the messenger to arrive from her attorney's office with the Power of Attorney form to be signed, and the muted sounds from behind the guest-room door did nothing to dispel this nervousness.
Her husband was in there, making out with her niece. There was no question about the fact that he'd succeeded in fucking the beautiful blonde virgin, and at the moment, it sounded as if he was furthering Mary's sexual education still more. Fern wished she was in the room with them, seeing the two beautiful young people together, joining them, but that was not a part of her plan. There was money involved, and that took precedence over sex, at least at the moment. Later, when she'd gotten Mary to sign over her inheritance, there might be no end to the fun and games she could have at the expense of the sanctimonious little bitch who had somehow lured her into a lesbian experience.
Robert came and went from the apartment. She could hear his voice with Lucy's, and she could hear the front door close behind them. It was a relief that they were gone. Now only the servants were in the apartment, and they could be trusted to obey her and stay in their rooms. She went on pacing the hall, sipping her drink, pausing at the guest-room door from time to time to listen at it. She heard the faint sound of the shower running, and then that was interrupted by the door chimes. She hurried to answer it, and was very pleased to find it was the messenger boy with the blank form. He ogled her as she took it from him, even though she had dressed severely for her confrontation with Mary. She had on a black velvet robe, long-sleeved, long-skirted, and high-necked. Black velvet-covered buttons ran down the front of it. He dark hair was brushed out, and she wore no make-up save for a bit of lipstick. She looked properly gaunt and pale, as if she was in mourning, but still the messenger boy ogled her. She closed the door on him, and with the form in the pocket of her robe, went grimly smiling to the guest room.
Fern opened the door very quietly. An electric tingle ran through her at the sight of Mitch standing beside the rumpled bed, quite naked, smiling down at Mary adrninistering to his big, stiff cock. The beautiful young blonde was on her knees before him, her eyes closed, her mouth open, and her cheeks sunken in from the suction she was exerting on Mitch's cock. With one hand, she held the shaft of it, although it was so stiff that it needed no support whatsoever, beyond that of her moving lips. With the other hand, she was clutching at the calf of his leg, pulling his shin harder against her crotch. She was rocking rhythmically on her knees, her golden tresses gently swinging, those gorgeous breasts more heavily swinging, her mouth moving on his cock and her cunt rubbing against his leg. She looked as if she was enjoying this sex act every bit as much as Mitch was. The tingle that Fern had first felt settled in her cunt, and she had to ignore it.
"Oh, no!" Fern cried, and covering her face with her hands, she pretended to collapse against the door-jamb.
Mitch's head jerked around, and he winked. Mary's eyes opened slowly, rolled in Fern's direction, and widened. Her rocking motion stopped, and a deep pink flush came to her cheeks. She began to slip away from him. Her hands trailed off his body, his prick slipped out from between her lips and sprang up to bump her nose, and she collapsed on the floor, weeping.
The sobs of the beautiful tan-skinned blonde were bitter as she lay crumpled at the feet of Fern's husband, and she beat weakly at the floor with her fist. "What have I done?" she moaned. "What's come over me?"
Fern came forward, and signaling for Mitch to help her, took one of Mary's arms and lifted her to the bed. She was as limp as a sack of potatoes, but jerking with her sobs. The married couple sat on either side of her, and Fern spoke in somber tones:
"Mary, I am so ashamed of you."
"It wasn't my fault," she blubbered, feebly trying to cover herself with the inadequate nightie. "I don't know what came over me. He-he made me do terrible things, and... and I don't know how he did it."
"Oh, you don't." said Ferm, most skeptically. "You don't know how he got you on your knees to suck his penis."
"No! I was just lying in bed, and then ... and then ... oh, I just want to die!"
'That's a very good act you're putting on, Mary," said Fern. "But I'm not buying it. I know you, Mary. I know you from last night. I know how you lured me into sinning with you, and now I'm glad that happened, because it proves to me that what's happened today wasn't Mitch's fault. You lured him into the room and you seduced him. That's very clear."
"No, it.wasn't that way!" the distraught girl insisted. "He came in here with my b-breakfast and he put his hands on me and he kissed me and he did . . . awful things to me. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't!"
"And so you got down on your knees and sucked him off. I see," said her aunt, turning to her husband. "Is that the way it was, Mitch?"
He took her cue. He said, "Sure, I touched her and kissed her, but not until after she'd got me so turned-on I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry it happened, Fern, but your niece is a very alluring girl, and I just couldn't help myself. I tried my best to get away from her, but..." His voice trailed off.
"Don't lie," Mary said, looking up, her face tear-streaked. "Don't make me look any worse than I am. Go away. I never want to see you again. You're a liar and a rapist, and I hate you."
"You may hate him, but you certainly don't hate this," said Fern, and taking her niece's hand in hers, she guided it to Mitch's standing prick. She jerked away from it as if she'd been burned, shrinking from him and drawing closer to her aunt. Her aunt asked, "Mitch, did you fuck her as well?"
"Well, yes," he said, properly sheepish about it.
"And was she a virgin?"
"Hell, no. Virgins don't move like she did, and she certainly didn't bleed. Fern, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am about this."
Mary began to splutter indignantly, and Fern reached across her to pat Mitch's knee and say, "It's all right, dear. I can forgive you for being seduced by her. To be honest with you, she seduced me last night too."
"No!" he said, genuinely shocked for a moment. Then he lifted Mary's face by her chin and said, "You're a busy little cunt, aren't you? That holier-than-thou attitude you put on makes a pretty good cover for a nymphomaniac, doesn't it?"
"Don't you touch me!" she cried, trying to beat at him with her fists. "It wasn't my fault. None of it was. Something just came over me and I. . . I don't know what happened."
"This came over you," he said, and drew her hand to his cock.
Fern smiled at him in encouragement, and Mary frantically tried to draw away from it again, because within her she felt that what they'd said was true, that she did indeed have the mark of the nymphomaniac on her and that she might lose control of herself again. He held her palm against it while she struggled, trying to cover her very shameful near-nudity, and trying to protest. The hot, hard flesh she was touching was now totally abhorrent to her, though only minutes before she'd been sucking on it with complete abandon.
He laughed and bore her over on her back, and there he pinned her down with his body as he kissed her, his prick hard against her belly. She went on fighting, never so mortified in her life, and she heard her aunt say, "The oversexed little tramp, she can't be trusted. How in the world am I going to keep her out of trouble during the next few weeks, and how in the world is she going to keep herself out of trouble once she's on her own?"
Mary tried to declare that she wasn't a tramp, but Mitch's mouth was covering hers, he had her pinned down, and that cock of his was insistently pressing against her. She actually felt like a tramp at the moment, still fighting against him, but having those feelings of deep yearning again. She managed to twist her head away from the kiss.
"Let me up! Let me explain! Oh, just let me get dressed and get out of here!"
"To where?" said her aunt, bending over her. "To the first man you meet, so he can fuck you out of your inheritance? Or to the first woman you meet, so you can seduce her and squander everything you have on her? Oh, no. You're staying right here."
"Did she really seduce you, Fern?" Mitch asked with interest, still busily engaged in holding the struggling girl down and roving his hands over her hot, scantily-clad body.
"Why, I couldn't fight her off!" Fern said, adding to Mary's confusion and shame. "She was like an animal after me. It was more a rape than a seduction. You know how strong these f armgirls are."
"I didn't! I didn't mean to. Stop that. Please! Just let me up and let me go!" Mary cried, with the terrible itch between her legs starting up again.
"I owe it to your dead mother to keep you here," said Fern, "and that's what I intend to do. I have a paper for you to sign which will insure you're staying here, and by God, girl, you're going to sign if or I'll see to it that you're committed."
"What're you talking about? Let me go," Mary said, trying to jam her thighs together to expell Mitch's intruding hand. He found her mouth again with his, and then it was even harder to understand what her aunt wanted of her.
"I'm talking about a paper you have to sign that will guarantee you'll be a good girl while you're living with me. This paper," said Fern, and Mary caught a glimpse of it past the curly head bending over her.
"What is it?" she panted, freeing herself of the unwanted and yet very stirring kiss. "Let me read it. Papa's attorneys said I shouldn't do anything without telling them... OOOOOH!" Her aunt's hand burrowed under her fanny and up into the crack of her ass, forcing Mary to throw herself atop Mitch in her efforts to escape it. There Mitch caught her in his strong arms and kissed her again, and she helplessly thrashed about on his muscular body, on his terrifically engorged cock, while the hand probed and poked at her.
"Never mind your attorneys. I know what's good for you here now. Will you sign it? Will you?" Fern asked, digging deeper with her fingers, lustfully enjoying the spectacle of the confused and innocent girl squirming frenetically between her hand and her husband's body. The little nightie she'd dressed her niece in the night before was now soiled and wrinkled, and up around her waist, exposing her classically contoured buttocks, jiggling and bouncing on both sides of Fern's hand. Her hand was deep and low between them, probing at the silken wet flesh of her cunt, as well as at the sensitive tissues of her sphincter. She was kicking futilely with one leg, and Mitch had the other imprisoned in a grapevine hold with his leg. Fern couldn't help but envy the feelings of that glorious young body squirming frantically on top of his. "Will you sign it? Will you, Mary? It's for your own good."
"Mmmph! Yes, but let me read it!"
Mitch found her lips again, and now Fern turned very smooth in her persuasions. She nestled closer to the addled girl, covering her rump with a velvet-covered leg and warmly massaging her back, and she spoke close to her very pink ear: "No need to read it, dear. It's all in legal language that you wouldn't understand. Just trust me and sign it, and then everything will be all right, and we'll all? be best of friends again. Will you do that for me? Then 111 forgive you, dear."
She managed to nod her head, and Fern then had to speak harshly to Mitch before he'd release her. He still didn't let her go all the way, for her was obviously more than just a little aroused by it all. He let her sit up, and he continued to use his hands on her back and on her tummy while Fern produced a pen from the night table and held the Power of Attorney form for the weeping and thoroughly aroused girl to put her name to.
A new kind of excitement came to Fern as the girl took the pen in hand. With one hand on Mary's leg and the other on the small of her back, Mitch was keeping Mary's excitement at the proper fever pitch, and Fern helped him by stroking her warm, slightly moist back through the thin nylon. Her signature would be understandably shaky, but it would suffice, and Fern's excitement grew with each letter that was added to it. As she scrawled her name, Mary's tear-filled eyes flitted to the big erect prick at her side, and there was both fear and desire in those eyes. Fern snatched the form away and put it in her pocket the moment it was signed.
"Now let me alone," Mary said, and covering her face with her hands, began to weep in earnest.
Mitch gave Fern a pleading look, and she smiled and began opening the buttons on her robe. She said in a warm, husky voice, "You're in no condition to be left alone now, dear. If we left you now, you'd just masturbate, and you know that isn't good for you. You need help, Mary, and we're going to give it to you. Isn't that right, Mitch?"
"You just bet it is," he said squeezing the girl's ass.
"Leave me alone! I just want to get dressed and leave!"
"Whoever heard of a nympho wanting to get dressed?" Mitch laughed, and reached for her crotch.
Mary struggled more furiously than ever, and Fern watched her with amusement as she continued to open her robe. Now there was near-hysteria showing in Mary's eyes as she fought weakly at Mitch's hands and looked apprehensively, yet compulsively, back and forth from Mitch's prick to Fern's perfectly-made breasts. A burgeoning lust was upon Fern now. She hated her niece for her youth and her natural beauty, and she looked forward with surprising gusto to thoroughly destroying whatever remained of her innocence.
"Mitch," she said, peeling the black velvet robe off her alabaster shoulders, fully baring her hard-crested tits, "have you ever seen a lesbian making love to another woman?"
"Just in some dirty movies,'* he replied with a leer, tearing Mary's nightie now in his successful attempts to fondle her breasts and loins simultaneously.
"You're going to see it now," she said, laying open the robe about her on the badly rumpled bed. "It's what Mary wants, and I'm going to be good to her and give it to her." Smirking, she took Mary by the shoulders and said, "Kiss me. Kiss me as you did last night, so Mitch can see what you really are." "No! No, I won't, and you can't make me-" CRACK! Without further ado, Fern slapped her niece sharply across the face, then swept her into her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. Stunned, the girl did not resist the pressure of her aunt's soft, open mouth, and when Fern thrust her tongue into that innocent mouth, a mewing groan escaped from Mary's throat and her struggles diminished.
There were two pairs of hands on her now, and those plus the warmly scented wetness of the kiss were altogether too much to resist. She felt as if she'd been fighting this losing battle forever, and now she almost welcomed defeat, and the wonderful peace that it would bring. She was being pushed over backwards again, very slowly, by the pressure of her aunt's warm, soft body. She was about to topple backward into the horizontal position that was made for sin, and all she could now do to try to resist her fall was to weakly grasp at her aunt's body. Her hands encountered the velvety smooth flesh of Fern's waist. They kneaded that flesh and she was gone, flat on her back, her arms about the wickedly wonderful woman who knew her inner desires so well, sucking hungrily on her tongue while her legs came open to the pressures of her uncle's hands.
"Mmmmm." Fern purred against her lips. "I might learn to like sex with girls. But it'd be better if you learned to like sex with boys." She resumed the kiss before Mary could protest, further stirring her by massaging her aching breasts in exactly the way she'd wanted.
"She seemed to like sex well enough with me," she heard Mitch say from afar, and she had to open her legs to allow him greater access to her sodden slit, and to the madly itching love bud that throbbed for his touch. "I think she's bisexual, Fern. I think she swings both ways. I know I would if I was a chick. Especially if I was a nympho like her."
Fern quit the kiss and said, "I think you're right, dear. But I'm sure she has a preference, one way or the other. Shall we see? Shall we see who she prefers to kiss these gorgeous tits of hers?"
"Please don't," Mary panted, as together they rucked up her nightie to get at her aching, yearning breasts, but by then there was no conviction at all in her protest.
She lay on the bed with her arms spread out, pinned under each of them, and her feet on the floor, completely without defense. Her breasts were at their disposal. They mauled and kneaded them, and it felt wonderful, but not nearly so wonderful as when each of her nipples, swollen to bursting, was taken in a warm, wet mouth, and tickled with a tongue. She could feel that tickling clear,down to her cunt, which was now bereft of the touch that it so badly needed. Never had she imagined that her breasts could have such fantastic sensitivity. It became far more than a tickling. It was a deep warmth that spread through ev- ery part of her, making the itch between her legs truly maddening, and making her entire body cry out for more of their kisses, more of their touch.
She moaned and thrashed and panted, fighting a new kind of battle now to get her arms free so that she could scratch and claw at her cunt, her burning, gushing cunt. Their bodies held her fast and her arms would not come free, but at least she succeeded in encircling each of their necks and hugging their hot, sucking mouths harder against her tits.
Then a hand began snaking down to her cunt. She didn't know whose it was, but she welcomed it, and planting her feet firmly on the floor, thrust up her hips from the bed and panted, "Yes! Touch me there! Hurry! Ahhhhh..."
She moaned with relief when the fingers reached their goal. They delved and dug, plucked and poked, seeking and rinding the most needful areas of her exploding cunt. She was panting so heavily by then that she could give them no oral encouragement, but then none was necessary as the fingers and the mouths sent her shooting up, up, up in a giddy ascent toward those unimaginably sweet delights she'd only recently come to know as the most blissful experience in all the world.
And this time it wasn't going to stop. Not ever. "Jesus, look at her come!" Mitch said. "She really goes for your finger-fucking, Fern.". .
"She's quite insane with it. But let's see how she'll react to your cock, darling. D'you want to be fucked now, Mary dear?"
"My tits. Suck me more," she gasped, so transported to delight by their mouths and by the fingers in her cunt that she was sure that nothing could surpass this.
"Oh, Mitch will make you come even harder with his big beautiful cock," Fern said. "And while he's doing that, I'll let you make me come. Would you like that?"
"Come," she moaned. "Wanna come, come, commme!"
Chapter Ten
With his arms around Sarah from behind, with his hands working on her big, soft tits, Nelson grinned as he watched them through the slightly ajar door. His employers really had their niece going, and it looked as if they'd just begun.
The lovely blonde girl was terribly disheveled, but nevertheless lovely. She was on her back on the bed with her ass right on the edge of it, her feet on the floor, her legs widespread to show the gold-fringed, dew-kissed red gash that was her cunt. Nelson couldn't get a good view of her tits, for the heads of Fern and Mitch obscured the view, but he could clearly see Fern's manicured fingers working rapidly and expertly in the girl's cunt, and he could see what it was doing to her. He could feel what it was doing to himself.
He had a big hard-on and it was pressed hotly against Sarah's big behind. That behind was covered with a skirt and nothing else, for once he'd peeped at the activities in the guest room, he'd practically dragged the cook to his vantage point, needing to share the scene with her and thus arouse himself even more. At first she'd refused, then had come reluctantly, and now she was breathing almost as heavily as he, and it would have taken wild horses to drag her away from the crack in the door. He inched her skirt up in front as they watched, and got his hand on her cunt. It was much fatter and more thickly-furred than on the blonde they were looking at, but it felt very good to the touch, wet and yielding and warm, and getting wetter all the time.
"Mitch will make you come even harder with his big beautiful cock," they heard Fern say. "And while he's doing that, I'll let you make me come. Would you like that?"
"Come . . . Wanna come, come, commme! Never wanna stop," Mary moaned, still trying to hold onto Mitch's neck as he drew away from her.
Fern pinned her arms down and kissed her flush on the mouth, and Mitch lurched to his feet, his cock a burgeoning flagpole of a thing, oozing seminal fluid at its end, throbbing. The sight of it so stirred Sarah that she reached behind her and found Nelson's with her hand. She looked at him pleadingly over her shoulder, and he nodded at the scene before them and dug deeper in her fat old cunt with his finger.
Mitch got down on his knees. His drooling prick bobbed up and down as he came forward, his hands on Mary's knees. He pushed them very widely apart as the girl strained to tilt her pelvis upward, instinctively assuming the position for coitus. Her cunt was already gaping, and now Fern turned about to spread its swollen and inflamed lips even wider with her fingers.
"Slip it in her, dear," she said. "Stick your lovely big cock right in her cunt. That's what she wants."
"Wait! No!" cried the girl, having trepidations now, at the last possible moment.
She used her elbows to try to sit up, but then the livid purplish head of Mitch's cock was shoved into her tight orifice, and with an open-mouthed scream of either bliss or pain, she fell back again, clawing at the covers, humping her hips forward to try to devour more of his rampaging cock with her gobbling cunt.
It was only halfway in, and the fit was so tight it looked as if it would go no further. In his anxiousness to see the further penetration, Nelson was pushing his erection hard against Sarah's cushiony ass, and she was pushing back at him, murmuring soft little whimpering sounds. He covered her mouth with the hand he'd been using in her cunt, and she felt that at any moment she could join the highly sexed, beautiful blonde in orgasm, for her own smell was thrilling to her now, rank as it was. She pressed her tits hard against the door and its frame as she saw Mary's labia distorted like the lips of a mouth that was sucking on a big red popsicle. It was amazing how the girl thrashed so.
Fern laughed as she rubbed Mary's clitoris hard, sending the luscious blonde into a new paroxysm of delight. Her love mound was still several inches away from Mitch's hairy pube, and she was straining hard to meet it. Fern would not permit that, however. With a hand on Mitch's heaving chest, she held him back, and said, "You like to fuck, do you, Mary?"
"Come! Gotta come harder!"
"Yes, and you've got to eat me too. You've got to lick out my cunt, darling. Right?"
"Come! Please! MAKE ME COME HARDER! GET IT IN DEEPER!"
"First get your tongue in me," Fern said, and with that, she straddled the girl's sweating, contorting torso and parted wide the lips of her cunt.
Mary shook her head frantically as it advanced. It was a raw, red wound, about to envelop her. It reeked of sex, vividly reminding her of the homosexual shame she'd known the evening before, and its proximity blotted out much of the good, good feelings she had been knowing down below. "No, I'm not that way!" she protested, as her chin touched that hot wet flesh, as her lungs were filled with its fetid scent. "No! No! MMPH! MMPH! Mmmmmmm..."
And then she was eating it, and it was delicious. Her hands dug into the softness of her aunt's haunches and she pulled the juicy cunt closer, lapping indiscriminately at the exuding nectar, and feeling all the good thrills returning with a vengeance as she did so.
"Suck it, darling, and use your tongue at the same time," said her aunt, in a- voice that told her that she too was caught in the throes of bliss.
"Mm-hmm!" Mary murmured through the sex-flesh, and felt a starburst of unadulterated ecstasy rip through her as Mitch at last jammed his hairy pubic bone hard against her reaching clitoris.
She got her legs around him and spurred him on with her heels. She got her tongue inside Fern's gushing hole to feast on her nectar, then pushed her back so she could concentrate on sucking her big, big clit, thus sharing the enormous pleasure she'd been introduced to by her wicked and wonderful aunt. Her cunt juice was leaking down over her asshole and Fern's was running down over her chin and neck, and still it came. Everything about it was good, even the soft and heavy pressure of Fern's buttocks on her tits, and the best part of it was, it was getting better all the time.
"Lookit her tits," Nelson whispered in Sarah's ear, squeezing hers very hard.
It was indeed a sight to behold. Fern's buttocks were very white and very large, and Mary's tits were tan and full. The white flesh was sitting heavily on the tan, obscuring the nipples, and extruding the tan very tautly, like two balloons, ready to burst. Sarah pressed Nelson's hands even harder against her tits, and a strange feeling went through her as, with all her heart, she wished she could take Mary's place under Fern, her idol as a female, the woman she had worked for for so long.
"Hold still now," Nelson whispered.
He was lifting up Sarah's skirt in the rear, and she was far too fascinated by what she was seeing to even think of trying to stop him. She'd masturbated only a short time before, but now the lust was on her so strongly that she could scarcely breathe. Mitch was fucking the girl strongly now, with deep, long strokes, and the girl was eating Fern vigorously. The slurping sounds, fore and aft, were blending erotically, even as Sarah's cunt juice began escaping to trickle down her leg.
Her big ass was bare and Nelson had his hands on it. She could feel him opening his pants, and still she stared through the crack in the door. Mary was really going wild by then. Her shapely legs were tightly wrapped around Mitch's waist to drive him deeper still, and what could be seen of her tits was pulsing with Fern's shifting weight on them as she licked and sucked her aunt to orgasm after orgasm. Her fine young body was bathed in sweat as it heaved and tossed under its erotic burden, and her muffled cries were unmistakably those of deepest ecstasy.
Fern was crying out too. "Oh, my God," she said. "OH, MY GOD THIS'S GOOD! EAT ME, YOU BEAUTIFUL DIRTY LESBIAN! AND REACH UP AND SQUEEZE MY TITS! AH! OH GOD! OH, I CAN'T STAND IT!"
"Yeah," Mitch muttered, and his muscular buttocks tensed as he began shooting his load. His hands dug deeply into Mary's ass as he pulled her closer to him, pistoning hard in her. She knew what was happening, apparently, for the actions of her hips grew more frenetic still, and her hands went from Fern's tits to grope blindly behind her aunt for the man who was shooting come in her, bringing her to yet another peak of pure animal pleasure. He was grunting like a hog, grimacing like a monkey, and shooting off like a Roman candle. Bolt after bolt of fiery come was sent into her overflowing but highly receptive cunt, as his balls contracted spasmodically.
And as Mitch was coming, Nelson got his prick in the deep crack of Sarah's commodious ass and began pumping with him. The chauffeur was very hot, very ready to come, and he grabbed a handful of Sarah's cunt to goad her into further churnings of her hips that would help him along. It didn't take much. Even as Mitch was slowing down in his ejaculating thrusts, Nelson's balls exploded and his juices began erupting in the soft, sweaty canyon between Sarah's big buttocks. It was ecstasy for him, since through his voyeuristic eyes he was able to merge with the three people he was staring at so raptly and thus share in their orgasms. It was good for Sarah too, for now his fingers were in exactly the right place again, the same place where Mary's tongue was in Fern's cunt.
In her haste to get the legal form from the messenger boy, Fern had neglected to completely close the front door. When Robert came down from the roof garden to fetch the lemonade Lucy had wanted, he found the door open an inch, and not wanting to disturb anyone unnecessarily, he pushed it open and looked inside. He was about to call out, "Yoo-hoo. May I come in?" The words froze in his throat, though, when he saw Nelson and Sarah in the hall.
Nelson was standing behind the plump cook, and she was apparently looking into the guest bedroom of the apartment. This in itself was a terrible breach of propriety on the part of the servants, but what they were doing was far more shocking.
Sarah's voluminous skirt was up around her waist, and she was wearing no panties. Bloomers would have been a more appropriate undergarment for her, since her bottom was very large, very white, and looked to be very soft and yielding. The fatty flesh of it jiggled with the movements of Nelson, who, if Robert could believe his astonished eyes, was fucking her from the rear. The chauffeur's penis could not be seen, such was the extent of Sarah's ass, but his humping movements behind her were unmistakably those of sexual intercourse, and the lustful look on his face confirmed this. Sarah's dumpling face was as flushed as Nelson's as she stood at the door, digging her fingers into her overly large breasts and staring intently ahead.
On seeing them, Robert felt an immediate tumescence in his loins, and this uncontrollable reaction was to him very nearly as shameful as what the family servants were doing. The indignation that flowed through him as he started down the hall successfully quelled that moment of sexual arousal. He had to fight it down again, though, when not three yards away from him, Nelson and Sarah shared a grinding, shuddering orgasm of such intensity that they didn't even notice his approach. They were still sighing when he firmly grasped Nelson's elbow.
The burly chauffeur looked for a moment like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but before Robert could even begin to admonish him, the sounds from within the master bedroom silenced him.
"How was that, Mary? Did Mitch fuck you well?"
"Oh. Oh. I never knew . . . anyone could . . . feel like that."
"Was she any good, Mitch?"
"Fantastic! Not as good as you, of course. But really very good."
"Ready for some more, Mary? I am."
"Have to rest. Can't move."
Nelson and Sarah were backing down the hall, hastily adjusting their clothing as they went, and Robert was sternly glowering at them. He shook his finger at them in silent warning and was about to follow them into the kitchen where he could properly admonish them, when curiosity compelled him to glance through the crack in the door. The tableau that he saw struck him very hard.
Lucy's youthful stepfather was on his knees, just withdrawing his wet and swollen penis from the plump blonde vagina of a girl lying prone on the bed with her heels resting on the floor. Her legs were good. Lucy's mother had her back to Robert. She was shakily climbing off the girl's torso and her very pale body, moist with perspiration, looked incredibly erotic to him. He knew the blonde girl on the bed was Mary, Lucy's cousin, for Lucy had mentioned that she was a
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visitor in the apartment, but from what Lucy had said about her, Robert couldn't believe she'd indulge in this sort of thing. He was still staring, open-mouthed, transfixed, when Fern turned about and saw him standing there.
The serenely smug look on her face vanished in an instant, and she snapped, "Robert! How dare you?"
"I wasn't! I just . . .*" Words failed him as the glowering Fern rose from the bed to come at him, her full breasts bobbing, her beautiful, lipstick-smeared face furious. Behind her, the girl looked up groggily, and though her face was swollen with passion, she was the most beautiful female Robert had ever seen. Mitch was smiling crookedly as Fern approached Robert.
"How dare you spy on us! Robert, I'm ashamed of you!"
"But I wasn't," he pleaded, backing across the hall, trying not to look down at all the vast, naked loveliness right before him. "It was them. I was trying to stop them," he said, pointing down the hall, but Nelson and Sarah were nowhere to be seen. "It was N-Nelson and Sarah," he weakly said.
By then Fern was standing in the doorway, fists on hips, breasts jutting, her lovely face registering scorn. She looked down the empty hallway and back at him, and said, "It's bad enough that you're a peeper, but it's worse to blame it on someone else. Where's Lucy?"
"On the roof," he said, agonized with embarrassment at this awful misunderstanding, and now to add to it, his penis was rising again. "Really, Mrs. Harley. I just stuck my head in the front door and saw ..."
"Get in here," she snapped, in the manner of an irate third grade schoolteacher.
She stood aside and he slunk past her, helpless to do anything but obey. The room reeked of sex, adding to his unwanted excitement and confusion. The blonde girl was trying to sit up and cover her perfectly beautiful breasts, and Mitch was standing with his arms crossed, looking menacing, but smiling. The slam of the door behind him made him leap. He turned, and he tried not to look directly at Fern as he spoke. He greatly feared the bulge in his pants was showing.
"Honestly, Mrs. Harley, I just came down to get some lemonade and..."
"How much did you see?"
"Nothing! Well, hardly anything . . . Nelson and Sarah were watching you in here and I came down the hall to ..."
"And Lucy is still up on the roof?"
"Yes. Please let me explain, Mrs. Harley. I.. .'*
"There's something I should explain to you first," she said, and taking him by the arm, turned him to face the bed again. The girl on it was sitting up now, with her legs tightly together and both hands across her breasts. She looked frightened, confused, and still very desirable. "This is my niece, Mary. She's got a problem, Robert, that we were trying to help her with. Mary is a nymphomaniac. Isn't that right, Mary?"
The girl looked grieved, as if she was about to cry.
She looked from Fern to Mitch and back again, then nodded and hung her lovely head. Grabbing her by the hair, Fern pulled it upright again, forcing her to look up at the hugely embarrassed, yet totally fascinated young man. She looked to him as if she'd been drugged.
"You like sex, don't you, Mary?" said her aunt. "In any and all forms."
"I. .. I... Yes.?
"You like to suck and fuck. Am I right?"
She wet her swollen lips and murmured, "Suck and fuck. Yes."
"And whether it's a man or a woman, you don't care."
"Just you," she murmured. "And Mitch."
Fern shook the girl's head softly. "Come now, Mary. If you're a nympho, you'd do it with anyone. Even Robert here."
"Listen," he said. "I don't want to have anything to do with . . ."
"You be quiet," Fern interrupted. "Mary, wouldn't you like Robert here to fuck you? Wouldn't you like him to kiss your pussy?"
The dazed girl fidgeted uncomfortably on the bed, crossing her arms more tightly over her breasts. Her voice was very juvenile as she said, "No. Please. No more. At least not now."
"Take off your clothes, Robert. She'll change her mind once she's seen you naked."
"Really, I think I'd just better g-go."
"And I think you'd better do as Fern says," said
Mitch from behind him, laying a strong hand on Robert's shoulder.
Fern released his arm. She picked up her robe, saying, "Mitch, see that he undresses. I'm going to get another pitcher of Bloody Marys."
Mitch walked her to the door as she was slipping on the black velvet, and there in a low voice, he said, "Robert was probably telling the truth. Nelson is quite a voyeur, and I'm sure he was looking if the door was open."
"We'll see," said Fern. "You get Mary and Robert acquainted. Til be right back." She left the guest room with the robe unbuttoned.
Mitch turned and faced Robert. His voice was very even as he said, "Take off your clothes."
"Mitch, I just couldn't. I mean, if she's a nymphomaniac, she needs help, professional help, like from a doctor. I couldn't just..."
"You'd better take off your clothes, Robert. Like Fern said."
Without clothes, Mitch looked like a Greek wrestler, and he was considerably larger than Robert. Robert began unbuttoning his shirt as he stammered, "She doesn't want to and I don't want to. Lucy's my girl, and I'd never do anything unfaithful to her . . . willingly."
"I just want to take a nap," Mary groggily said, and her words had the effect of further deflating Robert's wilting penis.
Mitch was unyielding. He heard none of their arguments as he stood at the doorway. When at last Robert was as naked as the other two in the room, his genitals had all but shrunk up inside him from his embarrassment.
"Now sit down beside her and say hello," Mitch said, and Robert sat, legs crossed, elbows in his lap.
"Hello," he said. He knew she was a nympho-maniac, for she was the source of that sex smell that filled the room. He'd never dreamed nymphos could be so ravishingly beautiful.
"Hullo," she replied. He seemed like a nice boy, despite the fact that he was naked. Under other circumstances, it might have been nice to meet him. But now, exhausted and confused, and uncertain of how she got into this state, Mary wanted only to be left alone.
"Put your arm around her, Bob," Mitch instructed.
He did so as softly and gently as he could, apologizing with his eyes. With his other arm he still concealed his flaccid penis. Smooth as her warm skin was, it had a texture to it that he longed to explore with his fingers.
The hand creeping across her shoulder sent a little shiver through Mary. She yawned and covered her mouth, not caring that this exposed one pink nipple. She wanted to rest her head on the young man's shoulder and go to sleep.
"Kiss her, Bob. Get acquainted."
"Mitch, she doesn't want to!"
Mitch took two steps forward, and Mary turned her face to the man at her side. What did another kiss matter after all she'd been through, and why was he reluctant? His lips were stiff and trembling, making her wish he could feel as relaxed as she was just then. If she obeyed Mitch,, maybe he'd let her sleep. That was all she wanted. That, and a chance to wash her sore vulva.
He could definitely taste cunt on her lips, and that somehow stirred him as much as the soft fullness of her mouth. He felt as if he was performing in a stag film, though he knew he could never perform the ultimate act with his wilted penis.
"Oh, come on. You're not playing Post Office. Open your mouths and kiss."
Her tongue tasted even more strongly of pussy. He couldn't help but think of Fern's body, of her big, lovely tits, of her hot cunt, and the wild things she had proved that she did with it all. His prick stirred. Odd to think of Fern with a delicious morsel like this at his disposal. Jesus, what would Lucy say if she could see him now?
Automatically she sucked on his tongue. His arm about her shoulders had tightened, increasing her somnolence. She put her hand on his neck to draw him closer, in hopes that this show of warmth would satisfy Mitch and then he'd let her sleep.
"That's it. Use your hands. You too, Bob. Feel her up. Get her going."
He reached uncertainly for her arm, and laid his hand on her breast instead. Amazingly, it was just as firm as Lucy's little tittie, even though it was six times the size. He had to squeeze it, and when he did, she made a sleepy little moan and pushed herself harder against his hand.
Mary wondered if her right tit had itched so before he'd touched it, but the thought was a fleeting one. She was still very sleepy, but now she was enjoying a dream in her waking sleep, one in which this gentle, timid young man-what was his name?-was the co-star. She ran her hand down from his, neck and over his shoulder, then down his arm. Her elbow touched his prick, and when it did, she became very much aware of her cunt again.
Their command performance had pumped enough life in Robert's penis so that it was half-hard when she touched it, and her touch brought it jerking to life. When she closed her soft hand around it and squeezed it, he drew her into his arms for a real, full-bodied kiss. Now he could feel the firmness of her tits with his chest, and the curvaceous contours of her hip and waist with his hand. He opened his eyes to make sure it was all real, and saw her as beautiful as an angel. It would take an effort to keep control of himself, to refrain from taking advantage of the girl, but he was resolved to do it.
. "You're doing fine, kids. You're really getting to know each other, just like Fern wanted. Keep it up."
Mary felt like she could have kept it up forever. It was so peaceful and sweet like this, so nice and innocent compared to all the grunting and shoving and sweating of before. That had been very wrong, even if it had ended with indescribably good feelings, but this seemed right and good. There was a pleasant little itch in her brimful pussy that matched those in her tits, and she squeezed her thighs tightly together to try to enhance it. Was this man her fiance or her husband or what? She was all confused about relationships, but so relaxed and loving that it really didn't matter.
Bob had made it with several girls, but never had it been anything like this. Those other times had been when they were partially clothed or in a rush, or both. Now he had a girl at his complete disposal, and a very special one at that. She was special not only because of her nymphomania, but also because she was so utterly beautiful. As much as he'd enjoyed women in the past, now he knew he'd never really appreciated them. This one felt every bit as good as she looked, and he was free to feel just as much of her as he wanted to. He could almost forget the presence of Mitch, the director of this highly sensuous scene, as he explored Mary's back and buttocks and thighs with his hands, and her mouth and ears and throat and shoulders with his lips. He found himself thinking that if she was a nymphomaniac, one more screw wouldn't hurt her, and he found himself wishing that their director was the kind who would insist on his actors taking their time about things.
Fern strode into the kitchen with her robe flowing back from her sides, and Nelson and Sarah, seated at the table over coffee, guiltily averted their heads.
"Sarah," she said, "make a pitcher of Bloody Marys for me, then make a pitcher of lemonade for Lucy. She's on the roof garden. Take it up to her."
"Yes, ma'am," said the cook, sidling past her, red-faced, her gaze flickering over her mistress's exposure. She went to the living room bar, while Nelson remained at the table, staring into his coffee. Fern counted to twenty before she spoke to him:
"My husband tells me you're a voyeur. And Robert tells me you were spying on us in the bedroom. Is that true, Nelson?"
He tugged at his collar, then looked sidelong at her with a very guilty smile on his face. "Everybody likes to look. And the door was open, so ..."
His voice trailed off and he looked back at his cup. She counted to ten and said, "If you like to look, why aren't you looking at me?"
His eyes opened wider and he turned toward her. His smile was genuine now as he stared at her. He started at her toes and went up, lingering at her loins, at her tits, at her face, then reviewing her tits and cunt. In a husky voice, he said, "You're about the best-lookin' woman I've ever seen."
"Oh?" said she, opening the robe further by placing a hand on her hip. "Better looking than my niece?"
"She's got something too, but . . . you're a lot of woman."
"Whom would you rather look at, me, or them?"
His eyes flickered and came back to her. He looked her over carefully and said, "Well . . . what are they doing in there?"
"Fucking. Sucking. Do you want to watch? Do you want to join in?"
The chair scraped as he got to his feet. He said, "I'd sure like to watch, if it's okay with you. I don't know if I could . . . join in. But I know of something you might be able to use. I'll go get it."
As he left the kitchen, Sarah returned with the pitcher of strong, red drink. Fern almost snatched it from her, and drank thirstily from the lip of the pitcher. Sarah was looking at her worshipfully, and just before the dumpy cook scurried off, she blurted, "I'm workin' for the most beautiful woman in all the world."
Fern was about to call after her, to thank her for the compliment and to ask her to join in furthering her niece's degradation, when Nelson returned. In his hand was a piece of white plastic which Fern recognized at once, having seen advertisements for the phallic-shaped vibrators in magazines.
She smiled and took it from his hand, saying, "Yes, I'm sure Mary will just love this. What do you use it for?"
"It's Sarah's," he said. "She frigs herself with it. I've watched."
"Poor woman," said Fern, but that was all the time she had for sympathy, for she was now eager to get the device into operation. She headed for the guest room with Nelson right behind her.
Chapter Eleven
Bob was positively mad with passion for Mary by then, but frustratingly, Mitch was now going far too slowly. He had the young people up on the bed on their knees, facing each other and kissing. It was terrifically exciting, but the trouble was that they were forbidden to use their hands. His throbbing prick against her soft belly was a delight, as was the feeling of her hardened nipples against his chest, but he longed with all his soul to get his hands on her hot body. Their kisses were nothing more than tongue-tan-glings, for both Mary and Bob were so hot they were panting through their open mouths. Thin wet lines tracked her tummy from the seminal fluid which oozed from his stiff prick, and he could feel the hot tracks left on his chest by her nipples. Her hands touched his hips and he reached for her.
"Uh, uh, uh," Mitch's voice said. "Hands are a no-no."
Mary wanted to ask him why, but her tongue was too busily engaged in lapping at Bob's. She couldn't understand why she was being held back from the de- lights of the flesh which she now knew to exist, when before in her innocence those delights had been pressed upon her. All she could understand in her wonderful overheated condition was that there was a very ready man before her, and that if she was good, she could have him. Neither Bob nor Mary was aware of Fern and Nelson entering the room until Fern spoke.
"Well done, Mitch. The children seem to be getting along famously."
Bob rolled his eyes in the direction of her voice to glare at her, but the presence of the leering chauffeur cowed him and brought back much of his former embarrassment. His excitement, however, was enough to overcome it and keep him hungrily licking at Mary's tongue. Mary didn't recognize Nelson at first, but she did recognize the beautiful brunette who was either her destroyer or her benefactor. At the moment, it seemed as if Fern was her benefactor, but that might change at any moment. She was thrilled when Bob, in defiance of Mitch, threw his arms about her and kissed her very strongly. Then she was thoroughly disappointed when he released her abruptly and spoke angrily to her aunt.
"This is torture, you know. Why are you doing this to us? How are you doing this to us?"
She sauntered forward, shrugging the robe off her marble-white shoulders as she came. She did not even deign to answer him, but taking his cock in her hand, said to Mary, "Do you want this in you?"
The girl nodded nervously, hungrily eyeing his throbbing prick, and with one hand she rubbed her aching twat.
"You may have it then," said Fern, and as Mary eagerly squatted on the bed, she added, "in your mouth."
"Please, Fern," she said, trying not to look at the young, hard prick being stroked by her aunt's hand. "Can't I have it in here?"
The imperious brunette smiled down at her disheveled niece and shook her head. Mary sighed and came forward on hands and knees to take Bob's cock between her kiss-bruised lips.
Lucy had kissed his cock before, or had tried to, and he'd always put her off. Up until that moment, he'd thought of fellatio as something dirty when performed by a date, and as something very special, something to be saved until after marriage to a thoroughly compatible and thoroughly loving person. Now it felt so terrific and it looked so terrific that he found himself slowly thrusting his hips forward, as if he was fucking those lovely pink lips. His balls swung heavily with each of his thrusts, and he had to strain to hold back from ejaculating.
Fern walked on her knees to Mary's side. She snapped her fingers at her husband, who handed her a white plastic object, and the end of this she ran down Mary's curved spine. Bob could hear the buzzing sound it made and could see the gooseflesh it was raising on the girl's back as she sucked his cock on hands and knees, and tried vainly to look back over her shoulder to see the device. When the bluntly tapered end of it disappeared in the crack of her lovely ass, she squealed and rocked forward, taking Bob's cock as deeply in her mouth as it would go, and when she grasped its shaft for support, he began to shoot. "Can't hold back! I can't!" "MMM! MMMM!"
He knew she wanted to get away from it, though she still kept sucking. Desperate to feel more of this most sensuous of climaxes, he reached down and held her where she was by her hair. Still it came, the joy so intense now as to border on pain, and Bob tore at his own hair rather than jerk her head away from it. Over his pantings he could hear her gulping as his hot sperm poured down her throat. He could hear the breath whistling through her nostrils too, and the sound of the vibrating plastic as it was pushed into her wet hole. At last she gave up his cock.
Her beautiful body strained and arched, and she clutched at the bit of white plastic that protruded from her cunt as she fell over on her back. Legs lewdly splayed, knees drawn up to her tits, she presented the picture of obscene, mindless, animal sex as she fucked herself with the plastic phallus. Bob, his prick still dripping, was disgusted with what he saw.
He would have turned away, but Fern stopped him with a cool hand that cupped his overly warm genitals. "Look at her," she said. "What a pig. She can get her satisfaction from a dildo, but I'm a real woman. I need this."
"Some other time," he sarcastically said. "I've got to get back to Lucy. Lord knows what I'm going to tell her."
"I've taken care of that," she said, advancing on her knees, grazing his chest with her nipples. "Now I want you to take care of me."
It was something he'd often guiltily dreamed of, and even now in his spent condition the idea was exciting. "I'm not exactly . . . ready," he said, though already he could feel some faint stirrings in his cock. "And I couldn't with... with them watching."
She smiled at her husband and chauffeur, and she said, "Oh, they don't mind. Anything I do is all right with them. And Mary will get you hard again, while you get me nice and ready."
"What do you mean?" he asked, and she quickly showed him.
She had him get down on his hands and knees with his loins over the frantically orgasming girl's face, his swollen prick dangling down. Fern then lay down on her back before him, her legs spread out, her pussy that had been perfected by the hands of surgeons spread out before him.
Bob had never eaten pussy before. He felt the same way toward cunnilingus as he did toward fellatio. But now it seemed he had no choice, and when Fern grasped him by the hair, he took a deep breath and began kissing the hot, livid flesh that had been presented to him.
The smell and taste of it raised the hackles on his neck, just as his prick was rising in the warmth of Mary's vigorously sucking mouth. Even before his prick was fully hard, he was aching to put it into Fern's cunt, and to install the same eagerness in her, he began using his tongue as well as his lips in her cunt.
"Ahhh. Ohhh. Yesss," she panted in encouragement, though little was necessary beyond the increasing contortions of her lovely body.
"Mmmph! MMMMMMPHHH!" Mary was trying to devour his prick. It was deep in her throat one moment, then the nob of it was being sucked by her lips the next.
Never had Bob been so terrifically aroused. Never had he felt anything quite so good. He'd come only minutes before, and now he was quite stiff and ready enough to do it again. But a mouth was no place in which to do it. He had already shot copiously in Mary's mouth, and now he had to feel the clinging wet warmth of a cunt before he would do it again.
Surging with vitality and virility, he shoved Fern aside and pulled himself away from the orgasming blond girl. He snatched the vibrating dildo from her cunt, even though her grip was strong on it, and in a thrice he had fallen on her and was thrusting his hard tool up between her legs.
"Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!" she cried, blindly groping for his throbbing organ.
"That's mine! You get away from her!" Fern shouted, and struggling to her knees, began to beat on his back with her fists.
He scarcely felt her blows, for between the efforts of Mary and himself, his prick slid into her tight but highly-lubricated cunt. Her frantic flailings stopped. An inch from his face, her eyes and mouth opened wide, and she looked in wonder at him as he hung panting and motionless over her, his prick soaking in her cunt, his eyes feasting on what had to be the most beautiful woman in all the world.
Still Fern beat at his back, and she would have continued had Mitch not intervened. Grabbing her by the wrists, he jerked her off the bed and flung her down on the floor. His prick was up again, and now his temper was also, and when she began to vituperate at him, he swung a heavy hand and slapped her across the face.
"You... you struck me!" she said.
*'Damn right. And I'll do it again unless you leave them alone and pay attention to me, your husband!"
Bob and Mary didn't even hear them. He still lay atop her, and now her arms and legs were softly around his very slowly moving body. He was exploring the depths of her cunt with his prick, while she in turn was clasping the contours of his organ with her vagina and finding for herself that it was a perfect fit.
"Baby, baby. You're so pretty," he murmured.
"Oh, and you feel so nice," she replied.
Fuming, Fern tried to get to her feet, and once again Mitch slapped her down.
"I'll kill you for this!" she spluttered. "I'll divorce you and throw you out in the street without a penny."
"Maybe so, but you won't torment that girl anymore, and by God, before you throw me out Til fuck you the way you should be fucked-good and hard."
Mary was soiled and sex-drenched. She'd been handled by too many people that day and she was very probably a nymphomaniac. Still and all, at the moment she was the sweetest woman Bob had ever seen, and she was feeling sweeter by the moment. A beatific calm had come over her face, tinged with a smile, and each slow stroke of his organ in her twitching cunt brought more of the look of the angel to her face.
"I feel like I'm going from a nightmare to a lovely, lovely dream," she said. "Are you real? Is this real?"
"No, dear," he said, slowly stroking, deeply stroking. "We're in heaven."
On the floor, Fern tried to attack Mitch with her nails. He caught her wrists, laughing at her, making her more furious than ever. He held her while she struggled and spat out curse words at him, and her frustrated anger had the effect of exciting him all the more.
'1 warned you!" she said, trying to kick him now. 1 won't stand to be treated this way. Get out of my house. Out! Now!"
"I'll leave when I'm good and ready. I'll leave when I've fucked your royal cunt ragged."
"You'll never so much as touch me there again!" she cried, and her fury was unbridled as she struggled vainly in his strong grip.
"Fine with me," he said, still laughing in her face. "Nelson, give me a hand. Hold her down. On her stomach."
Nelson was already beside himself with excitement. Eyes bulging out, rubbing at his crotch, he'd been swiveling his head back and forth from the scene on the bed to that on the floor. Now, over the shrieking protests of his mistress, he knelt and helped Mitch turn her over on her stomach, and following the naked man's instructions, he twisted Fern's smooth white arm up behind her back.
Her fury was growing. If there was anything she detested, it was being fucked doggy-style, and Mitch was well aware of that. The pain in her shoulder, however, was such that she had to submit. All she could do was threaten both Nelson and Mitch as she assumed the humiliating position of having her naturally perfect ass elevated in the air while her surgically beautified face and tits were mashed against the shag rug.
'"I'll kill you both. I'lll see you both in jail for this. Nelson, don't you dare touch my breast like that! Mitch, make him stop! Oh, I hate you! I hate you! Eeek!"
She yelped as Mitch roughly shoved three fingers in her cunt from behind, and this defiance of her commands emboldened the lustful Nelson to further explore her tits with his hand. Her yelps became screeches as Mitch withdrew his fingers and poked them one after another in her anus.
"I wish they'd be a little more quiet," Bob murmured against Mary's sweet lips.
"Mmmm. All I can hear is the sound of your heart beating against mine," she said.
There was real frenzy in Fern's struggles now, for the big blunt end of Mitch's cock had replaced his fin- gers in poking at her tightly constricted anus. He was holding her firmly by the buttocks so that she couldn't twist fully away, and parting those big, fleshy globes with his thumbs so that her only defense now was the tightening of her sphincter and her words. She resorted to pleading.
"Mitch, darling, stop it now. This has gone far enough, and if you stop now I won't be angry with you. I promise. Mitch, don't! Oh please, Mitch. You've carried the joke too far now. Just stop now and well have a lovely fuck, a wonderful fuck in the normal way, and I won't torment Mary any more. Nelson, FU give you a raise if you'll help me instead of him. Darling Mitch, I. . . OW! Goddamn it, that hurts! YOWWWW! JESUS CHRIST, YOU'RE TEARING ME! MITCH, STOP! STOP THAT THIS INST... YEEEEEEK!"
Mitch uttered a guttural grunt of satisfaction as he saw the bulbous head of his cock disappear within the very tight orifice which he had laid bare with his thumbs. It had been a tightly puckered little mouth before, but now its thin lips were stretched to the breaking point around the sturdy shaft which had penetrated it.
"IT'S KILLING ME! I CAN FEEL MYSELF TEARING!"
"Try to relax then," he told her, and delving with his fingers in her cunt, he smeared a little more of her natural lubrication on the long shaft that was poised to follow the head of his cock into her super-tight asshole. Her cries changed to moans and her lovely body shuddered and quivered everywhere as he worked another two inches of his big, bludgeon-like rod into her lily-white behind. He had to rest a moment then, for the sight of his cock that deeply embedded between those big white ovals was such that his head was swimming with the thoughts of a fast, hard ejaculation.
On the bed, still moving very slowly, Bob said, **I feel as if I've never really been inside a woman before.'*
"And I feel like I'm a virgin again. It's all so pure."
Even in this blissful state, he found that he could chuckle. "You're not acting much like a nympho now."
"I'm not acting like anything. I'm just feeling good, all over."
They extended their lips and joined them, slowly tangling tongues, and their explorations of each other's body with their hands were almost reverent. He was no longer stroking in her cunt, but merely moving his hips on top of hers to stir her inner organs with his hard shaft, and she was responding by squeezing it rhythmically with vaginal muscles she had hitherto been unaware of.
"NOOOO!" Fern screamed, though it was too late.
"Yeahhh," Mitch rasped, as he burrowed and shoved and got his big cock through that tight hole until his hairy pubic mound was closely snuggled into the open crack of her ass.
"Bastard. You bastard," she panted, close to tears.
"I told you to relax. But if you don't, that's entirely up to you."
"Filthy, dirty, cocksucking sonofabitch!"
"Ugh," said Mary. "I hate to hear people curse."
"You'd hear less of it," Bob said, "if I tickled your ear with my tongue."
"Oooo. Oooo. That does tickle nicely."
"Mmm. And I can still look at you. You know, you've got a lovely profile."
"SODOMIST! QUEER!" Fern cried, struggling anew, though the pain in her shoulder was nearly as blinding as that in her rear. "YOU'LL GO TO JAIL FOR THIS, YOU ROTTEN, ROTTEN BASTARD!"
"Coming out now," he said, and began a slow, laborious withdrawal of his tightly clasped organ.
"No, wait, Mitch," she gasped. "Mitch, wait just a second, I'm not ready. Mitch wait! MITCH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WATT! YOU'RE PULLING ME APART, YOU BASTARD! MITCH!! AAAA-ARRRRRGGGH! Oh. Oh. Oh."
It did indeed look as if something would give way as he pulled out his cock to the knob, but the sight of her asshole stretched back even farther was such that he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was fascinating to see how it pushed inward, along with the thick, glistening, shit-streaked shaft of his cock.
"Not again. Oh, not again," she moaned, and he relentlessly shoved forward, digging his fingers deeper into her ass-cheeks, oblivious to her pleas. "I'll hate you forever for th . . . Ooooggh Aarrrggh. Won't it ever stop!?! BASTARD! Oh, you dirty, dirty bastard. . . ."
Bob said to Mary, "We should go in the other room."
"I can't even hear them," she said with a smile, caressing his cheek with her hand, his buttocks with her heels. "And I don't ever want to move from this bed."
Fern at last did relax as Mitch again began withdrawing his cock. More correctly, she fell into a sort of a swoon. Her body went limp, and much of the fierce tightness around Mitch's moving prick was gone, though still the orifice was considerably tighter and hotter than that other one of hers that he'd labored in so frequently. Now his hands no longer contained her struggles, but merely served to hold her in that obscene position, with her ass on a level with his cock as he knelt behind her, with her weight on her knees and tits and. face. With the loosening of her sphincter, he began to move more strongly, and with this, she made it known that she was still conscious.
"Just take it easy on me, Mitch." Her voice was very weak. "Go slow, but hurry up and get it over with."
"I think you can let go of her arm now, Nelson," he said. "Thanks much."
"Anytime," said the chauffeur, and sat back on his haunches, glad for the opportunity to get his hand on his crotch again. He had a ringside seat for two sexual performances, and he was in his glory. Bob and Mary were barely moving. They looked like some highly erotic sculpture, done by the hand of a master. Fern's body was moving only from Mitch's deep thrusts, rocking back and forth with them, distorting her face against the rug. The only one who was really active in the quartet was Mitch, busily sawing his cock back and forth through that thoroughly distended hole, and grinning lustfully down at what he was doing. The scene was almost peaceful, until Sarah came bursting into the room.
"Miss Fern! Miss Fern! I found Lucy up on the roof doing terrible things in front of a bunch of children and she says you won't . . . Good gracious! What's he doing to you?"
The cook swayed back on her heels, then lunged forward at Mitch, with both fists swinging. She landed a blow on his shoulder, shrieking for him to stop, stop, and he gave her a clout on the side of the head that sent her sprawling over Fern to land on the floor in a flurry of skirts.
Kicking, trying to get up, she cried, "Don't do that to her! That isn't right! You're hurting her!"
Fern raised up on her elbows, then her hands. Sarah was right in front of her with her fat legs outspread, with her hairy old cunt bared. "You shut up," Fern panted. 'Tm getting to like it. Faster, Mitch. Deeper."
"I'm doing this my way," he said, and leaning forward, he moved his wife's face down in the hairy crotch before it. He only had to hold it there for a few seconds before she was eating the cook's pussy with gusto, and then he resumed the heavy thrusting in her ass.
"Oh! Oh! I'm in heaven!" Sarah squealed, and managed to get her bulky hips up off the floor. "I love you, Miss Fern! I've always loved you! Oh! Oh!"
"Shut her up, Nelson," Mitch snarled. "Stick something in her mouth. That's an order."
Nelson grinned and shrugged. His diminutive cock was already out of his pants, and it bobbed jerkily as he went around and straddled the squealing cook's body. She tried to twist her head away from it, tried to scream, but he held her firm and stuffed all of it in her mouth. In moments she was sucking as ardently as her mistress was, and all that could be heard was Mitch's grunts and the slurpings of the two females on the floor.
"Did you hear what she said?" Mary whispered. "That she's in heaven?" said Bob."Well, so am I." "She said something else, too. She said ... I love you."
"I can say that too, Mary. I love you. The difference is, I'll love you even after this is over."
"And I love you, I think. But... it won't be over when this is over?"
"Gonna find out pretty quick," he said, panting now. "Just can't hold back any more."
"Don't! Oh, don't!" she cried, and as a great surge of very vital energy poured through her, she threw her lovely body up to meet his thrusts.
Their mouths merged and locked. His balls slapped wetly against her bottom. She no longer had to think about contracting her vaginal muscles around his moving prick, for they did it of their own accord now, and with each of the contractions, his prick throbbed and swelled strongly in her tube.
"Look," Nelson panted. "On the bed. They're really coming!"
Mitch could in no way look away from the place where he and his wife were joined. He could only grunt, "Me too!" Fern's beautiful big buttocks were contorting wildly now, not trying to escape from the pounding she was taking, but instead trying wildly for more.
"MMMPH! MMMPH!" Her cries against Sarah's big cunt made it clear that she too was orgasming, and for further proof of this, Mitch reached down and found that her empty cunt was pulsing very strongly and overflowing with juices.
Sarah was all but tearing Fern's hair out in an entirely unnecessary attempt to hold it against her cunt, and the very agile undulations of her fat body were indicative of her orgasmic bliss as well.
"Uff! Oh, Baby!" Nelson grunted, and his balls twitched up toward his body and his buttocks jerked spasmodically as he ejaculated in Sarah's willing mouth.
It was like a chain reaction, started by Bobby and Mary, and ended by them. The young couple were the first to wilt in each other's arms, and as they did, Mary spoke in a fluttery, breathless voice.
"Robert, you are wonderful. But now that it's over...?"
"Mary, it will never be over with us."
"Mmm. You are so sweet. But do you still.. . well ... I guess it isn't fair for me to ask."
"You shouldn't have to, dear. But the answer is, yes, I still love you."
"And I love you, dear."
Chapter Twelve
The occasion of Mary Kilbourne's eighteenth birthday was well attended. Nelson had set up two tables :n the terrace, and Sarah had laden them heavily. Mitch presided over the smaller of the two tables, with Fern on his right hand and Mary on his left. Next to Fern sat Mr. Nestor, the family attorney, and next to Mary sat Robert. Lucy sat at one end of the larger table, with Nelson at its other end to help her keep a semblance of order among the dozen or so children who lined its sides. Jeff and Jimmy sat at each of Lucy's sides. She was wearing a see-through blouse and no bra, and although Fern disapproved of this, and the way the two boys at her sides were frankly ogling her; she made no mention of it. Lucy's table was a little too rowdy for Fern's tastes as well, with one child after another dropping silverware and having to climb under the table to retrieve it. Still, she said nothing, having learned of late that it was best to defer to the judgment of her husband.
Sarah had served a nice luncheon. A Caesar salad, cold poached salmon, and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce for the table where the grown-ups sat, and potato salad and hot dogs for the other. The children's table had pitchers of root beer on it, and the adult's table had a bottle of chilled French champagne. Lucy and Nelson, however, were drinking champagne, and Mary and Fern had glasses of root beer before them.
Mr. Nestor was speaking:
"This is a momentous birthday for you, Mary, for it not only marks the start of your adult life, it also begins your life as an extremely wealthy young woman. I've been working with your probate attorneys in Indiana as well as with Mitch and Fern Greaves, and ... by the way, Mitch, the papers came through this morning. Fern now legally bears your name.''
"Good," said the handsome young man at the head of the table, and reached for his glass of champagne. Fern reached for her root beer, smiling radiantly at him. Stealthily, her hand went past the mug and closed about the stem of Mr. Nestor's wine glass. She'd almost succeeded in bringing it to her lips when Sarah leaned over her shoulder, her big, soft breasts pressed against her mistress's back.
She took the glass away, saying, "Now, now, Fern. Root beer for you. We know what's best for you."
Fern smiled over her shoulder at the cook and reached down to fondle her plump leg. She sighed and said, "Yes. You're right, dear." She picked up the root beer and touched glasses with her husband before they drank. Mr. Nestor went on:
"Your parents' farm has been sold and we got a good price for it, Mary. And ..."
"The farm? Sold?"
"Oh, yes. It's no place for a young girl like you," said Mitch. "You need an education, and New York is the place to get it."
"But I'm already planning on enrolling with Robert in the fall semester. The farm is sold?"
"Yes," said the attorney, waving an envelope. "And we got a good price for it. Four hundred thousand dollars." She sat back in her chair, flabbergasted, as he handed her the envelope. He said, "After inheritance taxes, the amount was reduced to a hundred eighty thousand and some odd dollars. But through the kindnes and wisdom of your aunt and uncle, this was reinvested in a real estate loan, so that check in your hand is for a nice, round quarter of a million dollars."
**A quarter of a million!" she exclaimed, looking from Mitch to Fern to Robert. "Oh, Aunt Fern! Mitch, how can I ever thank you?"
"Don't thank me," Fern muttered through clenched leeth, and tried again for Mr. Nestor's wine glass.
This time it was Mitch who stopped her. He reached down and pinched her ass, then gave it a loving pat. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, and her smile was as sweet as Mary's as she said to her niece, "You're more than welcome, dear. It was a pleasure, all the way."
"And here's another birthday present for you," said
Mitch, tossing her a ring of keys. "The Rolls is yours now, Mary. I've finally convinced Fern that we need a Ferrari."
As she was thanking him, Sarah returned with two brightly-wrapped packages and placed them before her. She whispered in Mary's ear, "The long skinny one is from me. Maybe you shouldn't open it in front of Mr. Nestor. It's one of them vibrators, for when you get lonely."
The blushing girl thanked her and opened Nelson's present. It was a pair of binoculars. She called her thanks across the terrace to him. With a hot dog in hand, he waved back at her, and in doing so, dropped his fork and bent under the table to retrieve it.
From the other end of the table, a flushed and smiling Lucy said. "I'm sorry, Mary. I've been so busy with the children's summer recreation thing I'm setting up that I didn't have a chance to get you anything for your birthday." Jeff and Jimmy were gone from her side, and the table was moving slightly, as if it was being used for a seance. "All I've got to offer you is some advice on all that money you've got now. The advice is spend, spend, SPEND!" she cried, holding her glass on high, then slumping down halfway under the table.
Robert took a small, beribboned package from his pocket, cleared his throat, and said, "I got this for you, dear. I hope it fits."
She opened it and beheld half a carat of flawless diamond, set in platinum. She slipped it on her fourth finger, left hand, and as she admired it through dewy eyes, her right hand went to his lap. She said, "Robert, darling, everything you have for me always fits just perfectly?"
