Brandie Harper stared out the wide, sun-splashed window of the living room of her luxurious home on a treelined street in suburban Los Angeles. A stunningly beautiful blonde with long, wispy eyelashes over skyblue eyes, she leaned back against the window frame, idly brushing away a few flecks of ash that dropped from her cigarette onto the soft cashmere of her vee-necked lavender sweater.
New neighbors were moving in across the street, and she was so absorbed in watching them that she jumped a little when she heard her back door slam arid a youthful voice yell, "Groceries!"
"Put them on the table," she called back, crushing out her cigarette and reaching for her pocketbook. "I'll be right there."
With a gazelle-like grace, the lithe blonde housewife moved across her attractively furnished modern living room which combined country space and comfort with the most modern conveniences. A tall, lean teenager was lounging arrogantly against the sink, his arms folded as he watched her enter the kitchen.
Pete Haney had modishly long hair and his attire - faded jeans and a rib-hugging cotton T-shirt - emphasized the muscular hardness of his adolescent body. The teenager considered himself quite a cocksman, based on several high school conquests, and he enjoyed his reputation. Of course he'hadn't gotten as much action as he led people to believe; but it was enough to whet his appetite, and one of the things he like most in his life was, as he put it, "Pussy___anywhere, anytime, any way."
His cocky man-of-the-world air was somewhat shaken, however, by Brandie's appearance. Although he had delivered groceries to the Harper house twice before, he still wasn't prepared for the carnal lust that smacked him like a tidal wave when he saw her come into a room. It wasn't just her face, or the fullness of her softly swaying breasts obviously unencumbered by a brassiere beneath her sweater, though they sure were part of it. It was something that happened when she moved, as though all of her muscles floated on each other like oil on liquid, and there was a subtly sensual aroma that she seemed to leave wherever she moved, an alluring muskiness, sweet but not cloying, that clung to her. Today she was wearing a pair of tight-laced black leather pants over high-heeled boots, and the lewd fantasy of. her tapered thighs wound tightly around his own back while he rammed his lust-swollen young cock deep into her welcoming cunt flashed through his mind, making his penis lurch hungrily inside his tight jeans.
"How much do I owe you?" Brandie asked, smiling slightly as she noticed the boy's unmistakable erection. She enjoyed the reaction her spectacular looks excited in men, and at twenty eight, she had to admit she was pleased that she was still able to get attention from a sixteen year old - a good-looking little stud. Enough of that, Brandie, she cautioned herself. You haven't gone that far yet!
"Fifteen thirty-five," Pete replied, blushing and swaggering a little.
Brandie wrote the check while the boy sauntered around the kitchen. "This place sure looks different since you been here," he said. "I'd never've thought you could make this old house look so modern."
He was working his way around, Brandie could see, until he was close to her, and the statuesque blonde deftly fielded him by finishing the check and holding it out to him.
"Here you go, handsome," she smiled a little patronizingly. "Buy yourself an ice-cream soda."
"Tell you what," Pete suggested, "why don't I buy us both a beer instead?"
"Are you asking me for a date?" Brandie asked unbelievingly.
"Sure, why not?"
"Listen, little boy, there's a new family moving in across the street, with a little girl who I think is just about your age. Why don't you try it out on her?"
"Maybe I will," Pete bantered as he breezed past her out the kitchen door, "but if you change your mind, just call the supermarket. Night and day, we deliver, and baby I do mean deliver!"
Before the astonished woman had a chance to reply, he was out the door, across her large backyard and through the gate to the alley where his scooter-driven delivery cart was parked. Might as well go check out the new neighbors, he decided, particularly if there was a chick there!
In the living room of the house across the street, Warren Wendt, a tall, attractive dark-haired man of thirty-eight, was picking his way through piles of boxes and suitcases, trying to shove the living-room furniture into enough of a semblance of order so that he could at least sit down before undertaking the arduous job of unpacking and organizing the contents of all the cartons. He was supposed to report to work for the first time on Monday morning, and he had hoped that by that time he'd have the house settled and homelike enough so that his fourteen year old daughter Wendy wouldn't have to do anymore than superficial chores by herself. But it was nearly four on Friday afternoon, and he was way behind.
First they'd lost a day and a half getting to California from the East Coast because of car trouble, and then Wendy had wanted to take a side trip to see Carlsbad Caverns. Even though it lengthened their journey by two days more, Warren hadn't been able to refuse her. The poor kid had been through so much in the past year. He wanted to do everything he could to make it up to her. Hopefully, in a new place, in entirely new surroundings, she'd get over what had ... happened to her.
Warren felt a spasm of pure hatred course through his well built, athletically trim body, and his jaw tightened in anger. Even now, just the thought of the bastard who had assaulted his innocent child made his stomach turn over with a sickening desire that would never be satisfied, he knew, unless he could personally smash his fist into that scummy son-of-a-bitch until he was beaten to a pulp. Christ! What kind of sick pervert would force himself on a child, he wondered for the thousandth time.
Hearing Wendy's footsteps in the hall, he forced the brutal thoughts of revenge on his daughter's assailant out of his mind. The psychologist who had been seeing her for the past year had recommended that Warren do nothing to remind her of what had happened.
"But won't something like this leave her with terrible psychological scars?" he'd protested. "Shouldn't we get it out in the open as soon as possible?"
"If you try to force Wendy to deal with this before her mind is ready to, you may make things much worse than they are already. Besides, children are a lot more resilient than we give them credit for, Mr. Wendt, Just let your daughter resume as normal a life as possible. Later, when she's calmed down a bit, I'm sure she'll talk to you about it herself. She trusts you completely, you know. In fact, you really are very lucky in that respect."
Warren did know it, and that was what tore at his insides the most. It was somehow his fault, he felt, that his vulnerable young daughter had been prey to attack. He was away too much on business; he'd left her too much in the care of strangers, goodhearted women to be sure, but they couldn't replace her own parents. Wendy had lingered too long on the way home from school that day. Why shouldn't she? She had no one who really cared about her to come home to. If only Harriet had lived ...
"Here's the last of the boxes," Wendy announced, coming into the room with two small cartons in her arms and, slung over one shoulder, a canvas bag that looked as though it would burst at the seams. Her long wavy brown hair framed her face, sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead and neck.
"Here, honey, let me help you with those," Warren volunteered.
"It's okay, Dad. Just clear some space in the kitchen, will you? This is all groceries and pots and pans, and I thought Fd unpack them right away and make us some iced tea. You know, Daddy, we really were dumb to move in August. It's so hot then. Anybody with brains would have picked a cooler month. "
Warren smiled at her girlish chatter as he helped her unpack the groceries, and then he watched as she bustled around the kitchen with an air of authority and expertise oddly at variance with her fourteen years. He couldn't help but notice how like her mother she was, even though Harriet was only a memory to her, having died when Wendy was only four years old. It was uncanny how much she resembled his dead wife, even in gestures and the little quirks that she couldn't possibly have inherited.
And she was certainly going to be as beautiful as her mother had been. Already her youthfully slim hips were beginning to flare invitingly below her tiny waist, arid her breasts were developing into two roundly upthrust little melons, only a promise of what they would be in a year or two but enticingly feminine, nonetheless. Sometimes Warren found it disturbing that she looked so mature.
"Here's the tea," Wendy announced a few minutes later, bringing a pitcher full of golden-brown liquid and two ice-filled glasses over to the table.
"Well, baby, how do you like it? The house I mean? I know it's kind of a mess right now, but we'll get it together in no time, you'll see."
"I really think it's great," Wendy smiled, her pert nose crinkling and her brown eyes sparkling. "It feels a little weird to be in a house with so much space after all those little houses in New York, but it's really nice. And I just love my room, Daddy, with that big old tree outside."
Warren smiled in relief. Impulsively, the tall, dark-haired man reached across the table arid squeezed his daughter's hand.
"You know, baby, I want you to have fun here. Meet new friends, join clubs, really make a whole new start."
A small frown crossed Wendy's forehead, and her brown eyes clouded. She knew what her father was getting at. He wanted her to go out With boys, like the other girls her age did. He wanted her to have a... a normal life, she thought bitterly. Didn't he realize that was impossible? All she wanted was to stay with him, the two of them alone together. That was enough for her. Why didn't he see that?
"I ... I suppose I will," she said half-heartedly, withdrawing her hand.
Warren's eyes followed her worriedly. He was. about to say something more when there was a knock at the back door. Father and daughter turned to see the figure of a brown-haired youth through the window. Rising from his chair, Warren opened the door.
"Hello there," Pete said respectfully. "I work for the supermarket over on Carson Boulevard, and I noticed you were just moving in, so I thought I'd drop by and ask if I could bring you something from the store. I know it's tough to cook on moving day and all, and we have prepared hot foods. "
"Well, thank you, young man," Warren replied. "My daughter has gotten everything we need, I think, but won't you come in and have a glass of iced tea with us? We're just taking a break before we finish unpacking."
"Well, thanks. I'd appreciate something cold to drink, that is if it's not any trouble."
"No trouble at all. The tea's all made, and we'd like to have a little company wouldn't we, Wendy?"
"Yeah, sure," his daughter replied with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Pete was looking her over, just the way the boys at Dominican High in the Bronx had looked at her, and she met his eyes coldly but defiantly as she poured him a glass of tea.
"Wendy and I were just discussing what sorts of things young people do to amuse themselves here. In New York everybody's in the streets when they're not in. school, but here you have miles and miles of nice beaches.
"That's for sure," Pete replied. "That's where most of the action takes place. Will you be going to Mission High?" he asked Wendy.
"Yes, I think so," Warren's daughter replied, deliberately maintaining an air of coolness.
"Well, there's sports and dances. You won't have any trouble meeting people. You can bet on that." Christ, the studs'll be lined up three deep to get in her pants, and I'll be first in line, Pete thought, his mind already alive with salacious fantasies about the ripely built young brunette whose curvaceous figure was crammed into a pair of tight cutoff jeans that clung to the rounded flesh of her adolescent hips and emphasized the curves of her shapely, suntanned legs, and a cotton knit shirt that fell softly over the upthrust firmness- of her young breasts. "And for you and Mrs... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name..."
"Wendt, Warren Wendt. And I'm afraid there is no Mrs. Wendt."
"Oh, Well, lots of people get divorced. I guess it's not so unusual nowadays."
"My mother is dead," Wendy announced flatly, with an edge to her voice that Warren found disconcerting. It was almost as though she wanted to embarrass the boy.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say something I shouldn't. I guess I just assumed that..." His voice trailed off lamely.
"No harm done," Warren assured him. "Mrs. Wendt passed away some time ago, ten years, in fact."
"Oh. Well, I better be getting back to work. Thanks for the tea and everything. If you want to meet any of the neighbors, the Potters live next door, they're a retired couple, and across the street there's a Miss Harper. She isn't here all the time, though. Sometimes she goes into town for a couple of weeks at a time on some kind of business. She's got a real nice house, though, and I'm sure she'd like to meet you. She's kind of new here herself."
"Well, that's good to know. Maybe we'll go over and say hello tomorrow."
"And here's a card from the supermarket in case you need anything," the youth continued. "We deliver up to ten o'clock."
"Thanks, but I don't think we'll need things very often," Wendy interjected, taking the card and putting it off-handedly with a pile of other things.
"Yeah. Well, you never know. Man, it sure is hot out there," he continued, opening the door. "But it's pretty cool in here, isn't it?" He looked pointedly at Warren's teenage daughter.
"It must be our New York vibes," the girl countered, clearly eager for him to go.
"Funny, I thought the East was warmer than that. I guess you can't go by appearances. So long, Mr. Wendt."
"Wendy, you were really rude to that boy!" Warren chided as soon as Pete was safely out of hearing. "You could at least have been civil."
"I'm sorry, Daddy," his daughter burst out, her face contorted in a tight-lipped grimace. "But I just can't stand it when you ... throw me at every boy you see. It makes me feel like some kind of freak!"
"Throw you-? Oh, baby, what are you talking about? I was just trying to be polite and friendly. Don't you want to meet people, and go out with nice boys and have a good time like other girls?"
"I... I can't! Don't you see that? I just can't right now." Suddenly his brown-haired daughter flung herself into his lap, sobbing as though her heart would break, and Warren cursed himself for his foolishness as he tried to comfort her. No longer did she seem like a nearly grown-up woman. Instead she was his baby, his darling baby who had been so badly hurt. Stop pushing her! he admonished himself, as he gently stroked her soft hair and murmured tender words of comfort.
"Oh, Daddy, all I want in the world right now is just to stay with you, just the way we are now. I have all the good times I need with you. Can't we just stay this way?"
"Of course we can, baby, if that's the way you want it. It's just that I worry about you, that's all... "
"You don't have to worry about me, Daddy," his daughter insisted. "Honestly you don t. I have plenty to do around here. I'm going to fix up the house, and I'll cook dinner for you, and in the evenings we'll go to the movies, and we can take rides on the weekends. We're going to be so happy here you'll never want to leave, I promise."
Wendy snuggled close to him, as though she were still a little child, and Warren felt the sweet pressure of her bud-like breasts against the buttons of his shirt and her thighs wriggling with innocent obscenity against him. Involuntarily, he felt his ample cock begin to-stir within his trousers. To his surprise, even horror, his nymph-like child noticed it and began squirming hungrily against its rigid hardness in a way that brought a sudden flush of unbidden desire to his cheeks.
Gently he eased her off his lap and stood her on his feet. "I, uh, think we'd better get on with the unpacking now, honey, don't you?" he asked, trying to fight down a tightening in his throat and scrotum.
Wendy nodded happily. She was about to bound out of the room when, as an afterthought, she flung her arms around his waist and kissed him several times on the cheek. "Oh Daddy, I love you so much," she breathed. "You're the best father in the world!"
Whew! She's too much for me to handle alone, Warren reflected after Wendy left, her good humor restored, to unpack her things. She needs a woman to talk to, to explain things to her. Maybe... maybe it's time I considered getting married again.
Later that night, Wendy Wendt lay awake on her own bed, wearing only a pair of pink nylon baby-doll pajamas. The air was humid, and the sheer material stuck uncomfortably to her bare skin. Finally she climbed restlessly out of bed and padded softly over to the open window to catch some of the sultry August breeze. Leaning her chin in her hands, she knelt on the floor and looked out into the quiet, tree-lined street. It was only ten o'clock, but already most of the windows were dark, except in Miss Whats-her-name's place across the way.
The warm night made her feel funny all over. Lately, she was beginning to feel every part of her body in a new strange way. It was sort of nice to feel warm and alive all over. At least it was nice when she was alone and in the dark the way she was now, or when just Daddy was there. But there were other times when it frightened her. Like when that boy, that Pete Haney, had looked at her this afternoon. It gave her shivers just to think about it. But it made her feel warm, too, as though there were a gentle, teasing flame licking at the bottom of her stomach, down there where that man had,.. had touched her. That was the first time she'd ever felt it, this curious tickling sensation that nothing seemed to satisfy.
Leaning her head on the windowsill, the pretty brunette's eyes were thoughtful as her mind returned again to the incident of nearly a year ago. She'd been walking home from her girl friend's house after school, having stayed later than she'd planned. She was wearing a new micro-mini skirt and a tight sweater that made her feel very attractive. She stopped at the Whopper Burger for a soda, and that was where she saw him. He was about twenty-eight, and good-looking, too. He started a conversation with her at the counter, and treated her like'a grown-up girl, not like a child. He bought her a second soda, and then her offered to drive her home. Wendy knew she shouldn't go, but after all, men drove women home all the time, didn'f they? She was old enough to take care of herself. And besides, Daddy had been away for nearly a week, and she couldn't bear the thought, of going home to old Mrs. Anderson, the housekeeper. The house seemed like a morgue with her there, falling asleep in front of thev; television. So she went out to the parking lot with the handsome stranger, who held the door open for her and said such lovely things.
Once in the car, however, everything changed. Suddenly, hardly knowing how it happened, the naive youngster found herself in an almost deserted section of the city, parked on a dark side street. The stranger was not so nice now. He began feeling her all over, her breasts and up in between her legs at the narrow nylon crotchband of her panties. She tried to fight him off, but he was too strong for her, and he put his hands around her throat and told her he would strangle her if she screamed.
Then, while Wendy cowered, shaking with fear, in a corner of the locked car, the leering, stranger reached down and opened the zipper in the front of his pants. Immediately, Wendy realized he wore ho underwear, for his huge ... thing sprang upright like a snake about to strike. It was purplish-red, and there were little drops of moisture at the tip. The innocent child stared at it in terror, but with a strange fascination too. She never had actually seen a man's penis before, and certainly not rigidly erect like this one. Circling its bloated thickness With one hand, the malevolent stranger seized the terrified girl's hand with the other and began forcing it down over his lewdly swaying cock.
"No ... no!" she screamed, as her head was pressed closer and closer to the thick, jutting penis.
"Suck it, girl," he hissed into her ear. "Suck my cock like it was a big lollipop until I cum in your pretty little mouth. Then I'll let you go."
The brown-haired little girl didn't know what "cum" meant, but she was too frightened to refuse. Frightened, she took his rigidly throbbing penis between her soft pink lips, surprised to find that it was not unpleasant to her taste - although she could barely get her mouth around its heavy girth. The man squirmed and moaned above her, and pushing his lust-engorged staff in and out of her helpless mouth., Wendy felt a weird little tingling sensation between her legs, and she wanted to wriggle and squirm against something, but she didn't know what to do. Instead she sluiced softly up and down while the stranger's hand clutched and jabbed at the thickly swollen rod and suddenly there was a great gush of warm, creamy liquid filling her throat, and the man groaned as though he were in some kind of pain, but he really didn't seem to be hurt.
That was all she could remember. Three hours later, the police picked her up as she walked, sobbing hysterically, along West Thirty-Second Street. She didn't know how she'd gotten there. They took her home and called her father, who flew back home immediately from his business trip.
The weeks that followed were a nightmare. Doctors, policemen, questions and finally, worst of all, going back to school to face the stares of her classmates. Everyone looked at her strangely now, for word had gotten around that she had been "raped." That wasn't exactly true, for, technically, she was still a virgin; nevertheless, the word created an exciting air of mystery around her, and the boys took sharp notice. Wendy found herself very much in demand quickly, but after a few dates on which she felt like "some kind of strange animal being photographed," as she put it, she had stopped accepting invitations. Men and boys weren't to be trusted, she decided. No matter what they said, or how nicely they treated her, she was always suspicious and wary.
Tire young brunette wasn't quite sure why, though. She knew that what happened to her was done by a sick person. She understood that. But there was something else, something she couldn't explain that kept her detached - a shadowy, unspoken terror that frightened her so much sometimes that she broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of it.
No, she decided. She would stay with her Daddy. He was the only one she wanted, the only one she could trust.
Yawning, Wendy made her way back to bed. The strange, funny feelings were still there between her legs, and she put her hands there, cupping her aching pubic mound with a warm gentle pressure because it made her feel better. Finally, she fell asleep, her mind filled with memories of the strange man in the car, delivery boy Pete Haney, and above all, her handsome father.
Chapter Two
Wendy wasn't the only one for whom sleep didn't come easily that night. Across the street, in the spacious old house whose interior had been converted into a comfortably modern home, Brandie Harper was taking a bath. Leaning back on the foam-rubber cushion attached to one end of the large oval-shaped blue bathtub, she let her body soak in a sea of bubble bath while her long, red-tipped fingers lifted a frosted glass of bourbon and soda to her ftlli rose-colored lips. Directly opposite, she could see her own reflection in the mirror, and smiling to herself, she tweaked playfully one of her cherry-like nipples whose deep red color contrasted brightly with the surrounding tufts of white bubbles. A faint twinge of pleasure emanated outward from the dark areola which, sensitized by the warm water, immediately hardened and sprang erect under her light touch.
"Brandie, girl," she said aloud as she began slowly sudsing her arms and shoulders. "You've come a long way. And if you play your cards right, honey, this is only the beginning. You've got the house, the wardrobe, money in the bank ... the only thing missing for the final dash of respectability is the man. And he'll turn up. I'm not in a hurry ... For the first time in my life, I have the luxury of being able to pick and choose, and I'm going to enjoy it. Oh, am I going to enjoy it!"
Despite her show of confidence, however, the sensuous-looking woman had to admit that sometimes it was hard to take her own advice. She wasn't used to spending so much time in chaste solitude, and sometimes she actually found herself looking forward to the one week or more every month that she spent in the Palais Crespy on Kensington Park West in an elegant suite of rooms rented by her wealthy "employer". True, it was a life she wanted to get away from, but it paid well - well enough to get her the house and an impressive bank account over the years. Besides, the parties he threw for his clients, of which Brandie was a keynote figure, weren't necessarily so bad. A little too much once in a while, but what if it was a little bizarre? That paid even better, and she wasn't above a little different action now and then. It kept her cooled off when she returned home and to the stiff atmosphere of the community.
For six months now she'd been living her double life; highly paid call girl in the city and also a quiet sophisticate with an independent income in the Valley. But this time there was a particularly long gap between trips to the city.
Her employer, a senior sales executive for a large pharmaceutical company, would be in Houston for six weeks, and unless one of her old contacts called her for service, she had several more weeks of inactivity to look forward to.
Stepping out of the bathtub, the milk-skinned blonde wrapped herself in a large, fluffy lavender towel then sprinkled her wetly glistening body with perfumed powder. Dropping the towel, she removed the wide blue silk scarf that tied her hair back and shook out her curling shoulder-length blonde hair for a critical look at her body in the mirror.
Her breasts were voluptuously rounded and pendulous, though not heavy. Indeed, with her nipples completely relaxed and spreading in wide circles of rose, they looked as firm and inviting as they ever had. The twenty-eight year old blonde whirled this way, then back again, searching for any flaw in her nearly perfect beauty, but there was none. Despite her promiscuous lifestyle, her smooth skin and radiance could have belonged to a sixteen year old virgin.
Even her pussy didn't reflect the strain she'd subjected it to in the ten years since she'd left Clear Springs, North Carolina, she mused, placing one foot on the vanity stool and spreading the dark-fringed outer lips wide apart to look over her most prized treasure. Although her maidenhead was long gone, her cuntal passage was still narrow and tight, and the folds of skin that rimmed her sensitive clitoris were soft and smooth. Playfully she teased the bud-like little organ with the tip of her finger, watching it stir restlessly below the tangle of her softly curling blonde pubic hair. For an instant she contemplated finger-fucking herself, spreading her long, shapely legs right then and there and bringing herself to orgasm. But somehow the idea wasn't too appealing tonight.
No, that isn't what I need, she decided, slipping into an azure-colored dressing gown that made her sparkling blue eyes appear even larger. What I need is a nice, light-hearted fling with somebody young and handsome, with a big thick cock and no business or personal strings attached. Yes, an all-night fuck with some well-hung stud would set me up fust fine!
It was impossible, of course. She'd gone to a lot of trouble to establish a good reputation in the local community, and she wasn't going to jeopardize it for a simple whim. No, she was in the marriage market now, and she wasn't going to blow it. Soon, she reminded herself, soon I'll meet him. Divorced, around forty, well set up, and looking for a good-looking broad to give him some tender loving care. And I'm just the girl to do it. This time, I'm holding out for... for love!
Still, the house seemed unusually quiet as she went down to the kitchen and mixed herself another drink. She decided to light a small fire, put some records on the stereo, and curl up like a kitten until she got tired enough to go to sleep.
"I'll even give myself a really big thrill," she muttered aloud, as she began piling logs and wrinkled newspaper in the large stone fireplace. I'll shoot the works and order a ham-and-cheese sandwich from the supermarket. That'll give the neighbors something to talk about!"
By the time Pete Haney arrived at her back door with sandwiches and a six-pack of Coors about 30 minutes later, the fire was blazing in the fireplace, and Brandie was beginning to feel the effects of the three strong drinks she'd had in the past hour and a half. She had to steady herself on the kitchen table as she went to answer the door.
"Hi," the beaming teenager said as he walked past her into the kitchen. "You decided to take me up on my offer after all, huh?"
Once again Pete was struck by the honey-haired older woman's physical appeal, somehow even more vivid tonight, with her face devoid of makeup and her damp hair framing her delicately oval face like a shimmering halo. She looked younger, somehow, not so different from some of the girls at school, the_ older ones with the bad reputations. It was her blue eyes, most of all, he decided. They were definitely bedroom eyes. A guy only had to look at her to start imagining all sorts of things about what she'd look like and feel like naked. Christ, he'd love to sink his hot cock into her cunt, or bury his head between her creamy thighs and lick her pussy until she screamed! She didn't seem as tall as usual, either, maybe because this was the first time he'd seen her when she wasn't wearing high heels. Tonight she had on a pair of white thong sandals that peeked out from-the hem of her long silk robe, beneath which her long curving body was probably naked, judging from the way the azure garment clung to her rounded, full breasts. ;
"I didn't think you'd still be working at this hour," Brandie replied. "Shouldn't you be home in bed by now?"
"In bed maybe, but not at home. This is my last delivery for the night, though." His sensual lips curled in a sardonic, but pleasant smile, and he stared pointedly at Brandie.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning if you're in the mood for a little company, I'm free."
Brandie Shot the boy a glance, then threw back her head and laughed. She knew his type. He was the kind of hard-fucking smart-ass kid she used to hang out with back home in North Carolina. All bull and no brains - until life kicked him around a little. And it would. It always did. Then his type had a tendency to get a little ugly. Hell, judging from the way the kid looked at her, he was already a little ugly-minded, but in her present state of intoxication, she didn't really mind
"Well if you're a very good boy, I think I might manage some milk and cookies, or even a Pepsi," she bantered, raising an eyebrow and smiling a little more flirtatiously than she would have if she had been in complete control of her actions.
"Fuck that stuff," Pete snorted. "I brought over a little grass with me. You interested?"
"What makes you think I'm the kind who goes in for that illegal stuff?" the shapely blonde asked, leading him into the firelit living room.
"Oh, I don't know. You seem pretty hip. I'll bet you're into a lot of things that would surprise the people around here." The confident teenager took out a pack of cigarettes, ripped the top off, and yanked four rolled marijuana "joints" from the inside. "Am I wrong?" he asked, holding one out toward her.
"Not entirely," Brandie replied after a short pause. Then she took the cigarette and twirled it thoughtfully in her hands, until Pete leaned forward with a match to light it for her. His hands, she noticed, were long and powerful-looking for a boy his age, and the backs were fringed slightly with dark-brown hair.
They passed the cigarette back and forth, their fingers touching a little more each time, until Pete lit another joint and began walking around the spacious living room, looking at and commenting on various objects. Brandie finished the first joint and watched him, leaning back against the sofa cushions and letting her eyes move lazily over his young male body, still tightly enclosed in faded bluejeans and T-shirt. The thick sweet smoke of the drug curled down into her lungs, making her body feel light and relaxed.
He had the kind of body that had always turned her on, as far back as she could remember - lean and hard, almost a little clumsy, but long and muscular without an ounce of fat. Even in high school that was the kind of body she couldn't resist. Brandie closed her eyes and took another puff on the joint, remembering, almost able to smell, the oil and the leather jackets, to hear the sound of young, raucous male voices joking about the merits of their "wheels" and their "mamas" to taste the tartness of the cheap red wine they passed around as they, raced over the hilly back roads of Clear Springs,.North Carolina at two o'clock on a Sunday, morning. Motorcycle mama for the Iron Kings, property of Hank. Christ! How long ago it seemed now! But sweet to remember, oh yes, sweet. A, warm excitement stirred the blue-eyed call-girl as memories from her past flooded her mind ... long nights of depraved sex and wild partying, when it became a challenge to her to see how far she could go, how much she could take. And she loved it, every crazy lewd minute of it, every long thick cock that had been shoved up between her legs or buttocks or into her open mouth, Hank's or the "brothers" he lent her to occasionally. Pete probably has a cock like Hank's, she thought, thick and long, sticking out thick as a fence post over his tight little balls. His cock-hair's probably just like the hair on his arms, only darker. I wonder if he's got it on his thighs, too, she mused ...
"What's behind the curtain?" Pete's voice interrupted her obscene reverie. He was looking beyond her to the wall perpendicular to the fireplace, which was covered with a floor-to-ceiling drape of cherry-red shantung.
"Pull the cord," Brandie said, pointing to a long tasseled rope that hung from one side of the drape. Pete did as he was told, but the mechanism jammed, and nothing happened. "Here, I'll show you," Brandie said as she sprang from the couch.
Feeling as though she were floating from the potent effects of the marijuana, the sultry blonde walked over to the curtain cord and tugged on it lightly. Immediately the drapes slid back with a soft rustling sound, revealing a floor-to-ceiling mirror that covered most of the wall.
"Far out," Pete murmured. "What's that for?"
"I used to be a dancer. I still use it to keep in shape - exercises, things like that. Besides," she continued, not quite conscious of what she was saying, "I like to look at myself. I'm very vain."
"The way you look, you got a right to be." They were facing each other, and she could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the nearness of this enticingly desirable older woman. He, too, was feeling the effects of the stuff they'd smoked, and his cock was pounding in his pants like an angry bull. To his drug-fogged eyes, Brandie looked like a fantasy vision from the Arabian Nights, with her sun-bright hair and limpid blue eyes. Her silk robe had fallen open just slightly when she got up from the couch, and he couldn't prevent his eyes from wandering to the invitingly sculpted line of her cleavage disappearing down into the sheer folds of the shimmering garment. He wanted her, bad. His whole body ached with desire. And ... and he was almost certain she wanted him, too. Hell, why shouldn't she? She was a woman, and he was a man, wasn't he? It didn't matter that she was older than he was. Some things didn't necessarily go by age. He'd seen her looking at him before, when she didn't think he was looking. Even now, her eyes were on him, with an amused, challenging look in them that seemed to be taunting him to prove his manhood.
"You're not so bad yourself, handsome," Brandie whispered. Then, before he knew what was happening, she took his face in one of her cool hands and kissed him, full and soft on the mouth, letting the tip of her tongue run lightly over his lips.
The brown-haired delivery boy felt as though a bomb had exploded in his loins as her lips touched his, and with a low moan, he seized her soft pliant body in his arms, running his hands over her back and buttocks and crushing her breasts tightly against his hard-muscled young chest. Bending her backwards, he buried his head in her neck, sucking her sweetly scented flesh between his lips and teeth and raising little red welts" of passion on her smooth white neck and shoulders.
"Whoa, slow down, lover boy," Brandie shouted as his hands began fumbling shakily with the sash of her robe. "Let's not rush into anything." Twisting away from him, she walked to the stereo and removed the record which had ended, she wasn't sure how long ago. Her feelings were confused. On the one hand, she was drunk and stoned and ... and hot. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly a smart move to hop into bed with the local grocery boy, was it?
But her mental objections seemed faint and ineffective in the face of the raging torrent of sexual desire that the self-assured teenager's hungry caresses had roused in her. Hell, she was entitled to a fling once in a while, wasn't she? Indeed, goaded on by the potent chemicals in her system as well as by her overwhelming feelings of lust, Brandie found herself resenting her self-imposed chastity, no matter how good her reasons were. One thing she'd learned in her life: you have to take your good luck where you find it.
Still standing by the wall-sized mirror, his penis throbbing frantically in his pants, Pete watched her select another record and put it on the stereo.
"You gonna throw me out now?" he asked.
Brandie turned to face him. Without answering, she gathered several large, overstuffed pillows from the couch and threw them on the floor in front of the fireplace. Then she lit another joint from the two remaining on the table and lowered herself down on the cushions, crossing her long, tapering legs, revealed in the opening of her robe.
"No," she said softly, looking up at him from beneath her long eyelashes. "I don't think so." . In a flash, Pete was on the floor beside her, his hands tearing at her silk robe, pulling it open until his hands came in contact with her beckoning flesh. Brandie moaned softly as his lips seized first one, then the other of her nipples, sucking and twisting them into quivering hardness. Placing the joint on the hearth, the excited older woman began returning his caresses, tearing at his clothes and unbuttoning his shirt. Jerking away from her for a moment, Pete quickly stripped naked. His cock swelled with passion and his balls tightened with lustful anticipation of a really wild fuck as her eyes roved over his hard young body. Then he pulled her robe off her entirely, so that she, too, was naked, except for the white thong sandals.
Seeing Brandie Harper stretched out like that completely naked in front of him made Pete feel more excited than he ever had been in his life. He felt like a barbarian chieftain with a slave, a beautiful, light-skinned concubine that he could use any obscene way he wanted. The idea made his blood pound hotter in his temples, and he threw himself on top of her grinding his cock against the softness of her belly and forcing her mouth open so his tongue could explore its dark, warm cave-like interior.
Brandie responded to his caresses with animal abandon, rolling this way and that on the pillows and running her hands greedily over the flesh of his naked back and buttocks. He was just as good as she'd thought he'd be, she exulted, and his cock was a monster! Working her hand between their tightly locked bodies, she seized its wildly pulsating hardness and skillfully pulled back the soft, loose foreskin to expose the rubbery head, teasing it with her nimble finger, rubbing and shaking it with artful moves that drove young Pete wild with lust. Not to be outdone, he snaked his own hand up between her parted legs to the curling strands of blonde pubic hair that surrounded her warmly throbbing cuntal slit. Brandie cried out with pleasure beneath him as his extended middle finger found her tender clitoris and rotated frantically against it, sending stabs of lusty passion spiraling through her nakedly aroused body. Then he worked his probing finger downward to the moist little entrance of her welcoming vagina. For a moment he played teasingly around the sensitive opening, and then with one swift smooth stroke, he plunged his rigidly extended middle finger all the way up between her legs.
"Ooooooohhhh yessss," Brandie groaned, spreading her legs wider to receive the full length of his lewdly invading finger, while her hands continued their frenzied massaging of his pulsing young cock. "Yesssssssss!"
In response, Pete rammed his finger even deeper up into the moistly heated interior of her cunt, twisting, probing and stretching the eagerly contracting walls wide, while Brandie moaned ecstatically.
"Oh, I want to fuck you," he moaned. "I want to fuck the living daylights out of you."
"Then do it, lover, right now!"
Brandie pulled away from him, and he removed his finger from her desire-drenched cunt. Then, to his surprise, the voluptuously naked blonde turned over on her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows and knees facing the huge mirror on the opposite wall. Her buttocks swayed back in lewd invitation to the sex-driven young teenager.
She peered at him from beneath a curtain of disheveled honey-colored hair and ran her pink tongue lightly over her lips. "Fuck me from behind, Pete," she invited in a sultry voice, "so we can watch it in the mirror!"
The young delivery boy could hardly believe his ears at her obscene invitation, but there was no doubt about what she meant. Her upturned buttocks were spread wide, and he could see the wetly glistening pink slit of her pussy contracting involuntarily with carnal allure.
He didn't have to be asked twice. Quickly kneeling behind her, he seized the softly flaring flesh of her hips in his hands and squeezed it hungrily, rocking her back and forth against the obscene protuberance of his hotly throbbing cock, which was purplish-red with-excitement, the blue veins along the length swollen and stretched taut. Gripping his lust-engorged shaft in his hand, he positioned it with the blunt, bulbous tip at the entrance to her moistly, contracting cunt. His eyes met Brandie's in the mirror, and he could hardly believe the incredibly erotic image they made together - himself looking like a goddamn satyr, about to plunge his sixteen year old cock into the upturned pussy of the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. Shift The guys would never believe it!
"Come into me, Pete," Brandie urged. "Shove your beautiful big young cock all the way inside my cunt! Now!"
With a deep, savage growl, the teenager leaned forward, bracing himself on her hips with his hands, and sank his blood-gorged penis all the way up into her deep female softness - right to the hilt - until the wide base slammed against the tightly stretched circle of her vagina.
"Ooooohhh," Brandie groaned, "that's it! Fuck me good!"
The brown-haired delivery boy began to move his lust-bloated cock in and out between her legs, slowly at first, then picking up speed as tantalizing ripples of pleasure washed through his adolescent body. Brandie fucked back, her movements in perfect rhythm with his rapidly mounting strokes, her experienced cuntal muscles clutching at his rigidly erect shaft, then letting go, milking him softly and drawing him ever deeper up inside her hungry loins.
"Oh ... baby ..." he groaned, scarcely able to get the words out, "I'm gonna give it to you like you've never had it before! I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk for a week!"
"Do it!" Brandie implored, her head thrown back and her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Do it harder! As hard as you can!"
Gone were all thoughts of propriety or concern for her reputation. She was nothing but a quivering mass of desire-racked female flesh now, wanting only one thing - a stiff hard cock ramming up into her aching cunt with all its might, filling her completely until she couldn't take any more. Digging her knees into the thick pile of the carpet, Brandie leaned back into Pete's merciless cock-strokes, struggling to maintain her balance against their increasing force, a force which almost threatened to lift her clear off the floor with each thrust. This was what she lived for - wild, crazy sex, the harder the better! This was what really made her feel alive! Out of control now, she screamed obscene demands to the lustily pumping youth, while the eyes of both of them were riveted to their own lewd images in the mirror.
"Harder! Harder!" she urged. "Hurt me! Hurt me with your big cock! Oh God it feels so good! Oh Pete! Peeeeeettttte!"
Her cries were all the young delivery boy needed to fuel the animal savagery which was now taking him over completely. He fucked her without mercy, his hard, sexually tensed buttocks lunging powerfully back and forth, his eyes glued to the torridly obscene images in the wall-size mirror. His thickly throbbing penis was swollen nearly to the bursting point, and, his drum-tight balls slapped wetly against her steaming inner thighs. Every one of his young muscles strained with lustful need as his rock-hard penis tore along the helplessly quaking walls of her love-hungry cunt. He reached beneath her and gripped the soft, spongy mounds of her lushly swaying breasts and squeezed them hard, sending even more excruciating sensations of both pleasure and pain through the nakedly kneeling blonde's passion-charged body. At that moment the rutting teenager felt his semen begin to surge upward in his loins, filling his hot young testicles and threatening to overflow.
"I'm cu-cu-cummmmmmmiinnngg!" he gasped. "Cummminnnggg!"
His words excited in Brandie a feeling of throbbing, burning exultancy. Her blood raced feverishly through her straining body, her skin tingled as if licked by flames. The raging thrills in her hotly clutching vagina grew to mind-shattering proportions and waves of pulsing hot pleasure deluged her loins.
"Cum," she urged, never taking her eyes from the mirror as she ground her ripely rounded buttocks back hard against Pete's firm young belly. "Cum now! With me!"
Her lust-inflamed cuntal walls palpitated wildly and gushed with steamy female essences, just as Pete's cock exploded with a stream of white, bubbling cum that jetted from the parted glans of his cock-head and poured into her grasping cunt like a bursting dam.
"Aaaahhhh!" Pete screamed as his white-hot semen spurted madly up into her writhing belly. His body, arched triumphantly, and Brandie drew in the cream-like sperm rapturously, her body writhing with pleasure. Her own cuntal juices were flowing freely, gushing around his jerking penis.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the torrid coupling was over. Pete withdrew his dripping rod of flesh from Brandie's still trembling vagina, and the ravaged older woman fell forward on her belly on the rug. For a moment they each lay still, hardly touching. Then Pete lit another joint, took a deep puff and handed it to Brandie.
"Well, you kept your word," she purred as she took the sweet-smelling cigarette from the teenager's hand. "You really do deliver."
Pete grinned with male pride, and his hands reached out to stroke the milky flesh of her thighs. "Baby," he said, looking at her impudently, "you ain't seen nothing yet!"
Chapter Three
The following Monday morning, Brandie Harper sat in the kitchen of her home, sipping slowly on her second cup of coffee and puffing languidly on a cigarette, deep in thought. Her galvanic encounter with Pete the previous Friday evening had affected her strongly. But the frenzied episode with the muscular delivery boy, exciting though it was, had become a source of keen regret to the older woman almost as soon as it was over. What if the youth began bragging about his exploits, spreading all over town the story of her lewd alcohol and drug-induced fling? That could destroy everything the flaxen-haired temptress had worked so hard for in the past few months. It would tear asunder the protective veil of mystery she had placed around herself and destroy all her hopes and plans for the future.
Taking a deep puff on her cigarette, she inwardly cursed herself for being so weak and eager for sex that she allowed herself to succumb to the muscular young man's advances. Once more, the twenty-eight year old blonde acknowledged ruefully -, she had given in to her lifelong fatal attraction to exciting males and the thrillingly barbaric brand of sex they offered, which threatened to remain the raison d'etre of her life. Brandie knew that kind of life was over for her now. It had to be. For, if she continued to prolong it, staving off the inevitable for just one more fling and then another, she would end up a fading and lonely old whore. It was too high a price to pay, and she was more determined than ever to do something about it, and soon.
Rising from her chair, she picked up her cup and saucer, walked to the sink and placed them in .a small pile of dirty dishes she had left from random meals the previous day.
"Well, baby," she murmured to herself as she began to fill the sink with soap and hot water, "looks like you're gonna end up a housewife after all."
She laughed mockingly to- herself, remembering how, in her flamboyant youth, she had promised herself that the last place she would end up would be behind a sink doing the dishes or washing her husband's laundry. And kids! Christ, who wanted kids. The young Brandie had wanted only to be a vivacious sexual magnet that no man could resist. She wasn't going to be tied down to a dead-end existence like the girls she'd grown up with. But now, the idea of marriage to a steady, reliable man was beginning to seem as alluring as the wild free life had been when she first cut loose from Clear Springs.
"Life is so strange," she murmured as she wiped clean the last of the dishes, "so damn strange."
She was about to go upstairs when she heard the sound of. a car starting up in front of the house across the street. Through a living room window, she saw Warren Wendt, her handsome brown-eyed new neighbor, drive off down the street, while his fourteen year old daughter waved animatedly from the doorway of their house. They had dropped in to introduce themselves the day before, and Brandie found the attractive widower interesting and extremely good-looking. She had some difficulty warming up to the daughter, who seemed cold and haughty, but then Brandie never had been particularly adept at dealing with children, so it didn't bother her. It was a perfect setup, the ravishing woman realized, almost too perfect.
"I think I'll pay them a neighborly visit soon," she decided as she watched the young girl disappear into, the house, "... 'cause, Brandie, baby, like the old song says, ' .;.. there's gonna be some changes made ...' And, the sooner, the better."
About five o'clock that afternoon, Warren Wendt drove his late-model Buick through the tree-lined streets of San Fernando Valley, heading back home. It had been a tough day, his first working day as advertising director for All-American Pharmaceuticals. He considered himself lucky to have been working for so long with the same company and even luckier that they had agreed to transfer him from their New York Office to the West Coast so he could help his troubled daughter find a new life for herself from the swelling perversion that threatened to overrun New York City. And Wendy did seem happier now, despite her unwillingness as yet to pursue new friendships. Yet, there was no denying that his job was hard, with endless hours of trying to convince dubious company executives of the value of good advertising. He was good at his work, but it was tiring, particularly since he also had the responsibility of being a parent alone - raising a teenaged daughter who was not only going through the normal difficulties of newly blossoming young womanhood, but was also deeply disturbed by her harrowing premature sexual experience a year earlier. It was too much, he realized, for one person. Wendy needed a mother's guidance, someone who could advise her as an older woman and help her through her emotional turmoil. Yet, since his wife, Harriet, had died, he had met no one he felt was even remotely qualified to take her place. Suddenly his brain filled with memories of his chestnut-haired buoyant wife, so radiant and charming. He still could not comprehend the cruel fate that had decreed her untimely death when their daughter was only four years old.
"I should have never let her go out on that modeling assignment," he reminded himself bitterly. "If I hadn't, she might still be alive."
Warren had met his future wife because of a skin-lotion TV commercial that his company was producing, and the bubbling auburn-haired girl, who was then the most sought after TV model in New York, was selected. It had been love at first sight, and Warren had been totally enthralled by her radiant wholesomeness and childlike manner. After two months, they were married, and, after a year of wedded bliss, their daughter Wendy was born. There seemed. nothing that could mar their life together. Warren was promoted several times with sizable increases in salary, and Harriet gave up her career to become a full-time wife and mother with even more enthusiasm and skill, her husband felt, than she had exhibited as a model.
Then, one day, her agent called with a tempting offer to do a commercial for a new line of hosiery. Harriet would model various styles of the hosiery against a series of dramatic on-location settings. Who could have anticipated that tragedy would occur, that she would be swept up by an unexpected gust of wind as she posed with all her usual charm at the edge of a high precipice in the Catskills and be hurled mercilessly down a seventy-foot embankment like a sack of wheat while the TV crew looked on in shock and horror.
Wendy, doubtless because of her youth and resilience, had adjusted to her mother's death with a minimum of trauma, but for Warren, the loss of his beloved wife was a heavy blow, one from which he feared he would never recover. In fact, it was only now, ten years later and after his daughter's traumatizing sexual experience that he even considered finding another mate. He had adjusted to the idea of remaining single and to his role of widower, satisfied only to see that Wendy was taken care of properly. But there was no doubt now that his daughter, so disturbingly the picture of his dead wife, needed a mother at this crucial stage in her life, and needed one quickly.
However, it wasn't only concern for his beautiful daughter that triggered these thoughts, Warren realized, as he drove down the street toward his new California home. No, there was something else stirring inside him ... the need to be with a woman again, to know the companionship and balancing harmony that only an understanding wife could bring to a man's life, and, of course, to satisfy his sexual needs. He had struggled to remain celibate after Harriet's death, for he really desired no other woman. It had seemed to him that his recent painful loss made the idea of beginning again the long road of courtship repellent, even dangerous at least emotionally. The handsome young advertising executive had decided never to remarry. But, lately, his physical needs had begun to gnaw at him, and, although he had brought down his frequent aching erections through masturbation and mental resistance, he knew only too well that his muscular body, still at the peak of manhood, was now demanding release, strong release, to satisfy its long-repressed basie needs.
As Warren reached the driveway of his split-level house, he made a determined effort to remove these conflicting thoughts from his mind and present a cheerful face to his brunette daughter. Parking the car deftly in the garage, he walked toward the back door of his house, and was surprised when Wendy came running out to greet him.
"Hi sweetheart," he called warmly as his curvaceous daughter ran toward him, her slender young body clad in a snug white blouse that revealed the budding pear-shaped mounds of her adolescent breasts, and a short cotton-print circle skirt that swirled around her lithely tapering legs.
"Oh Daddy, I'm so glad you're home," she cried as she flung her young arms around him tightly, clinging to him.
"Well, well, well," her handsome father said, laughing lightly. "It's sure nice to be greeted so enthusiastically."
"We've got company," the young girl said, breaking away from him, her voice becoming flat and a little annoyed.
"Company? Who is it?"
"That lady from across the street. Miss Harper."
"Oh yes? Well, it was nice of her to drop by. She's a very attractive lady, don't you think?"
"I guess so," Wendy replied matter of factly, holding her father's arm tightly as they walked to the house. "But she's not pretty like Mommy was. And she wears too much perfume."
"Wendy," her father said, stopping short, "that's no way to talk about someone you hardly know. I'm sure Miss Harper is a very good person, and I don't like to hear you talking like that. About anybody."
A petulant look crossed the young girl's pretty face as he spoke. Although she couldn't quite define why, the older woman's presence somehow threatened her. She had looked forward to a nice evening alone with her handsome father and even cooked a special meal for the two of them. Now, that woman was intruding herself into their cozy little world, and Warren's teenaged daughter didn't like it one single bit.
"I'm ... I'm sorry Daddy," she said finally, as they resumed their walk toward the back door, "it's... it's just... I don't know ... I get so scared sometimes ... I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Well, just put it out of your head, sweetheart. I'm sure Miss Harper just wants to be friends with us, and I think you should give her the benefit of the doubt. Okay?"
"Okay, Daddy ... if you say so."
"That's my girl."
As they went in through the kitchen door, Warren found himself strangely excited to see Brandie. Although they had chatted only briefly over the weekend, merely as neighbors getting acquainted, the sultry blonde's potent charms were not lost on the long-celibate young father. Indeed his voluptuous neighbor was one of the most attractive women he had ever met, and, although she was vastly different from his deceased wife, she seemed to call forth in him a deep sense of masculine desire that he had not felt for years. Briefly, he wondered if Brandie could be the woman he was looking for, someone to be a sensual loving wife to him and a good mother to his daughter.
Easy there, Warren old boy, he cautioned himself. You're way ahead of yourself.
As he walked into the living room, he suddenly found himself face to face with his sexy neighbor, and he caught his breath at the sight of her ravishing body enticingly clad in an azure-colored pants-suit, her thick blonde hair cascading around her exquisitely made-up face and flowing loosely to her shoulders.
"Hi neighbor," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "I thought we should get to know each other a little better."
"Great," Warren replied, half-mesmerized by her spell-binding beauty, "I'm glad you came over." .
Behind them, standing in the living-room entrance, Wendy's heart began to beat faster, and the tips of her fingers grew cold as ice.
In the ensuing few weeks, Warren and Brandie saw each other frequently. At first it was a mutual exchange of dinners at each other's houses. Then they began to go out, to the movies, for cocktails, dinners, their relationship growing and deepening, much to Wendy's irritation. She had disliked Brandie from the first time she saw her, and she resented the fact that her own father was showering the sleek older woman with so much attention. But he always got annoyed when she spoke of her annoyance, and finally the young girl had been forced to mask her feelings and even pretend, for her father's sake, that she, too, liked the alluring blonde-.
On a Friday evening in early. September, Wendy found herself alone in the house. Her father and Brandie had left around six o'clock for dinner at a French restaurant on Wilshire Boulevard, promising to be back early. Warren's daughter had refused again to have a babysitter, insisting that she was old enough to take care of herself.
Bored now, she sat on the living-room sofa, gazing absently at the raucous television set, wishing things could be different, wishing her father wasn't seeing so much of that neighbor woman, wishing she didn't have to start school next week and confront people her own age.
"Oh, why does everything have to be so complicated?" she thought to herself.
Outside, she heard the sound of a motorcycle churning up the street and was surprised to hear it stop in front of her house. Racing to the window, she saw, in the light of the early evening, Pete Haney locking a lightweight Yamaha.
"Oh no," she said unhappily, "what does he want?"
The delivery boy for the supermarket had made it a point lately to drop by, and the curvaceous brunette teenager knew he was trying to get her to warm up to him. But she wanted nothing to do with boys and, especially, this arrogant youth who was sauntering up her front walk. Maybe in the future, when she was... better - then maybe she would go out on dates, but not now, and especially not with Pete Haney. There was something in his eyes she didn't like, a frank sensuality that made her shiver slightly whenever he drew near her. In the next moment, he was knocking at the door.
Wendy walked briskly to the door, her face a mask of cold disdain, and opened it.
"What do you want?" she spat.
"Just a friendly visit, baby."
"I am not your 'baby', and I don't want visitors."
"Now that's no way to treat a guy," he said, slipping past her and striding into the living room. "All alone tonight?"
"That's none of your business, Pete Haney," she snapped, slamming the front door and following him angrily into the living room. "Now you get out of here!"
"Ah, cool it, Wendy. I'm not so bad when you get to know me. Most of the girls in schooFd give their right arm to have me drop by."
"Well, I'm not one of them, Mr. High-and-Mighty, and, if you don't get out of here this minute, I'm going to get my father to throw you out."
"Your father? Your father's out on the town with that Harper broad. I saw 'em goin' into the Fleur-de-Lis Restaurant about forty minutes ago. Thought maybe you'd be lonesome here all by yourself."
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you. And what I meant was that I'd call him at the restaurant and tell him you're here."
"Hey, come on, Wendy," the youth said, smiling at her with unexpected warmth. "I'm not all that bad, am I? I was just sorta lonesome myself and thought maybe I could break the ice a little with you."
"Well... I guess I can't force you to go ... "
"Nice place you got here, ya know?" Pete said as he walked curiously around the living room. "That Harper chick has a nice place too ... real nice."
"Oh, I guess you're a friend of hers," the nubile girl taunted.
"Yeah," Pete said, laughing darkly, "I am. A real good friend. She's got a lot of friends, you know. Including your father. Can't blame him, she's a nice piece of ass!"
Wendy's body stiffened noticeably, as her lips tightened into a thin line.
"Don't talk that way," she spat at the hard-muscled youth, don't you ever talk that way to me! And don't talk about my father either!"
"Ah, who are you kidding? That dame's hot to screw anybody in pants, including your old man, and, from the looks of things, your precious father's hip to it and started getting his share, just like I did!"
"You're lying!" the shocked adolescent cried, "Lying!"
"Am I? Wake up, baby, you're 'living in a dream world. That Harper dame ain't keeping your father around with her brilliant conversation, believe me!"
"It's not true! How could you know? How?"
"I know plenty. I know everything that goes on in this neighborhood, stuff that'd make your pretty brown hair stand on end. Sure, I been making out with that bitch, just like your old man!"
Warren's teenaged daughter was shaking violently with a brutal combination of anger and shocked disbelief, her young brain reeling in a torrent of conflicting thoughts. Pete couldn't be making love to Brandie Harper! And how dare he imply that her father would ever - no - not like that, it was impossible, impossible!
"Get out of here!" she hissed through clenched teeth, "get out of here before I scream!"
"Ah, what do you want to do that for? Come on, babe, that's life. It ain't so bad. You got to grow up a little, you know that? Maybe old Pete can help."
Taking advantage of the girl's confused, distraught condition, he moved closer to Wendy, who stood paralyzed and uncomprehending in the center of the living room. The long-haired delivery boy's cock was throbbing wildly in his pants as his eyes roved with lusty desire over the fourteen year old's softly curving young body. "Looks like you're the only one not getting any, Wendy," he murmured softly, standing only inches away from her and eager to grab her luscious form. "But old Pete's here to see you get your share too."
Suddenly, without warning, Wendy slapped the youth hard on the cheek, sending him reeling back, stunned.
"What... what'd you do that for?"
The fired-up girl stared at him with such steely contempt that Pete was taken aback. He'd thought she'd be an easy mark, once the ground was broken, but he was beginning to realize that this little girl was different. She meant business, and there was an expression on her face that made him think maybe she was a little crazy, too.
"Now, you get out of here," she said in a voice edged" with ice, "or I'll call the police and tell them ... that you raped me."
"Hey ... look, Wendy ... I... "
"Get out, Pete Haney, now! I'm warning you!"
The stunned delivery boy bolted for the door.
"Sorry kid," he said, glancing back momentarily, before he slipped out of the front door and closed it hastily behind him.
Wendy stood frozen as his motorcycle revved up and then roared down the street. Then she walked slowly back to the couch and sat down perfectly still, breathing evenly.
"He was lying," she said quietly to herself, almost as if she were talking to another person, "He must be. But ... but maybe he wasn't... I'll have to ... to find out for myself. Because ... I have to warn Daddy!"
Chapter Four
While the evil seeds planted in Wendy's impressionable young mind were already beginning to take root and grow, her father and Brandie Harper, oblivious to the ominous events which would affect each of their futures, were enjoying the last of a sumptuous dinner at the Fleur-de-lis, one of the city's most fashionable restaurants.
"Mmmmmmmmm, Warren, that was the most fantastic meal I've eaten in weeks," Brandie sighed, leaning back against the plush upholstery banquette and taking a final swallow of wine. "I didn't realize they had such a good chef here."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Wendy's father replied, reaching over to refill her glass, then his own."I've never eaten here myself before tonight, but one of the fellows I work with recommended this place. I'll have to thank him on Monday."
"You certainly will. I can't remember when I've enjoyed myself more!"
Brandie smiled warmly at the well-built business executive, and Warren felt his heart beat faster as he gazed at the milk-white perfection of her fine features, a reaction he'd noticed was becoming more and more frequent in the presence of this attractive and sophisticated neighbor. His radiant blonde neighbor was, he had to admit, the most exciting woman he'd ever met, and sometimes he felt like an awkward schoolboy in the face of her serenely exotic beaty. They were seated side by side against the wall at a heavy candlelit table and the high back of the upholstered seat prpvided an atmosphere of intimacy and subtle sensuality that the dark-haired widower hadn't allowed himself in years. In fact, the six weeks since he'd met Brandie and begun dating her were the happiest in his life since the death of his wife. He'd begun to feel alive again, and, more important, he was aware again of his own sexuality, of the fact that a beautiful woman might find him worth her time and attention. Brandie made him feel wonderful, and his cock practically saluted the scent of her perfume and the presence of her lithely rounded body only inches away from him, it was beating an insistent tattoo in the prison of his pants leg.
"I always enjoy myself with you, Brandie," he finally replied. "So much so I'm sometimes a little ... alarmed by it."
Brandie laughed softly with delight at his compliment. She, too, felt an unfamiliar excitement with Warren, not just the sexual hunger that his good looks and tall trim physique aroused in her, though that was certainly there ... Lord was it there! It took no small effort on the part of the sensually liberated blonde to control the physical intimacy she allowed herself to invite. So far, they'd shared nothing, more than a few good-night kisses, kisses that were tender at first, but lately had become increasingly passionate. It was becoming more and more difficult for her to play the role of a respectable woman living alone and careful of her reputation, when what she really wanted was to melt into Warren's arms and surrender completely to the keen sensations of lust that wound through her loins like the serpent that tempted Eve.
But that would be the wrong move, she knew, exactly the sort of thing that would drive him away, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted. For she, too, found herself experiencing new emotions lately. She liked the way Warren treated her, the respect and deference he showed her even when he didn't have to. It was not what she usually got from men, and to her own surprise, she was beginning to like it. Of course, if he didn't make a move soon, she might have to nudge him a little, but that was something she didn't mind in the least. In fact, she was looking forward to it. The very thought made her eyes sparkle, and, smiling mischievously, she raised her wine glass.
"A toast," she announced, placing one warm well-manicured hand over his. "To the good neighbor policy - May good neighbors get as close as possible!"
"I'll drink to that," Warren laughed, clinking glasses with her and draining the last of the wine. Then, in the silence that followed, he squeezed her hand, which was still nestled in his own. A warm current of shared erotic feeling passed between them, and Brandie. demurely lowered her eyes, but not before she returned, the pressure of his hand, and even lightly ran her tapering fingers over his palm.
"I hate to break this up," she murmured, "but you did say you wanted to get back early because of Wendy.
"I know," Warren sighed. "I suppose you think it's silly of me to worry about her the way I do, but I don't like to leave her alone at night for very long. I guess it's the paranoia of the single parent."
"What did you do when you were in New York?"
"I'd always leave her with a housekeeper or a babysitter, but she absolutely refuses to have one now. I can't convince her, and I can't really feel comfortable with her idea, that she's old enough to take care of herself."
"Maybe you're being over-protective," Brandie suggested. "Sometimes that can be as bad as not giving a child enough attention." Privately, Brandie was a little disturbed by Warren's attachment to his strange brown-haired fourteen-year-old daughter. It wasn't just that his concern for the child cut short his evenings out with her; there was something else, too, something she saw sometimes in the innocent-looking child's eyes that made the worldly blonde shiver a little.
"You're probably right. Sometimes I do feel she's much too dependent on me. She's actually unwilling to spend time with people her own age. In a way, that's a little unhealthy, I think."
"Then, why don't you start forcing her out of the nest a little? Gently, of course, but firmly. She'll probably thank you for it eventually."
"It's... it's not quite that easy, Brandie, though God knows I wish it were..." A worried frown furrowed the young father's brow, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had when he was disturbed by something. He hadn't told Brandie yet about what had happened to Wendy in New York, and, for a moment, he looked for words. Then he shrugged helplessly. "It's a long story, and you probably wouldn't be interested anyway."
Brandie reached out and grasped his hand in both of her own, and looked at him seriously. "Haven't you figured out yet that anything that concerns you interests me, Warren? Why don't you order coffee for us while I go freshen my makeup, and then you can tell me all about it. That is, if you want to. I don't want to pry."
Warren smiled at her gratefully. "There's nothing I'd like better than to tell you about it, Brandie. I think I really need a woman's point of view. Maybe you can straighten things out a little for me."
"I'll try," the voluptuous blonde promised as she rose from the table. "Be right back."
Warren watched as she made her way across the dining room in the direction of the ladies room, the full skirt of her thin-strapped vee-necked black chiffon dress billowing softly with the undulations of her flaring hips. He noticed with a good deal of pride the way the eyes of the men in the room followed her, and noticed too the cool way she handled it, acknowledging their attention with poise and grace, yet every inch a lady. Warren, he told himself, I have a feeling that coming to California is going to turn out to be one of the smartest moves you ever made. For you and Wendy.
Despite his good intentions, it was more than an hour later when Warren finally turned into the quiet street where he and Brandie both lived. There were no rights on in his house, so he assumed that Wendy was asleep.
"Poor thing," Brandie murmured sympathetically. "I had no idea she'd been through such a terrible ordeal. Now I understand why you're so concerned about her, Warren."
"You know, Brandie, I've spent so much time talking tonight that I haven't really had a chance to hear what you think about all this. I mean, well, I know it's selfish of me," he said as he drove the car into his driveway, "But how would you feel about coming in for awhile and talking? It's not the most exciting end to the evening, but... "
"I'd love to," his attractive neighbor quickly assured him. "I don't know if I can really say anything useful, but what are friends for if they can't share your troubles?"
They were seated in front of the house in darkness, and the light of the moon cast shadows over the blonde call girl's face that made her seem even more beautiful than ever. Impulsively, but with great tenderness, Warren reached over and took her face in his hands.
"You're becoming much more than a neighbor to me, Brandie," he leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. Brandie returned his kiss, savoring the unspoken messages of desire he transmitted with his lips and the trembling of his body against hers. Softly she reached up and stroked his hand as they separated.
"I'm glad," she said warmly, "really glad, Warren."
Then the athletic young business executive got out of the car and bounded over to open the door for her. Hand in hand they walked up the flagstone pathway to his back door.
Upstairs in her bedroom, Wendy listened to the arrival of the car. She had gone to bed a little earlier, but couldn't fall asleep until her father came home. She always waited for him to come up and kiss her good-night, and tonight in particular she needed to see him, after all the awful things Pete Haney had told her. When the car pulled into the driveway, she got out of bed and went over to her window, but, to her surprise, her daddy didn't get out right away. And, when he did, it was with Miss Harper. The brown-eyed fourteen-year-old girl watched in sinking disbelief as the two of them came toward the house and then disappeared out of sight behind the leaves of the tree outside her window. The next sound she heard was the back door opening and their muted voices in the kitchen.
"He's bringing her in here," the shocked teenager murmured, her heart beating faster with a fearful sensation. She didn't want the woman in her house. Especially tonight. Trembling with fear and anger, she got back into bed and buried herself under the covers. Daddy likes Miss Harper too much, she mused darkly. She had to do something, but what?
Downstairs, Warren switched on the light and took the crocheted stole that Brandie had thrown over her shoulders to keep out the chill of the early evening.
"I'll just go and check on Wendy, and then I'll be right back."
"Can I do anything while you're gone? Make coffee, maybe?"
"That'd be nice. Or, if you like, there's some Scotch in the bar in the dining room and some ice in the refrigerator."
"Sounds great. I think I can take it from there."
Wendy heard the door to her room open and her father tiptoe softly across the room to her bed. Instead of leaping up to greet him as she usually did, the troubled child pretended to be asleep. Her brown hair fanned out on the pillow, and, to Warren, seeing her by the dim light that came through the window, she looked as innocent and vulnerable as a baby with her hands clenched in little fists around her pillow and her young body, just on the verge of alluring womanhood, curled up under the covers.
"You awake, baby?" he whispered.
Wendy didn't move. Warren looked down at his apparently sleeping daughter with love in his heart, then he bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. "Everything's going to be fine. Soon, very soon, in fact, you might have... a new mother." He pulled the covers protectively over her shoulders, and then tiptoed out of the room again, closing the door behind him.
Once she was sure he was gone, Wendy opened her eyes wide and sat up in bed. His words had sent a shudder of horror through her young body, clad only in thin yellow baby-doll pajamas. Warren Wendt would have been shocked at the expression of sheer malevolence that spread like an ugly stain over his daughter's innocent features as she absorbed his last words.
A new mother? A new mother!?
No! her mind screamed. She folded her legs up and wrapped her bare arms around them, resting her chin on her knees, her whole body strained and taut. I've got to stop him, she thought. But how? How?
By the time Warren got back downstairs, Brandie had made two stiff drinks, put an album of soothing instrumental music on the record player in the living room and turned the lights down to give the room a soft homelike glow. She wasn't sure just exactly what would happen this evening, but she was determined that the atmosphere would be as conducive to physical intimacy as possible.
"How's Wendy?" she asked. Warren came into the room just as she had curled up comfortably in a corner of the over-stuffed sofa.
"Sleeping like a baby," he answered. "Say, this place looks great. What did you do?"
"Oh nothing special. Just tried to make things a little cozy."
"Well, you certainly succeeded. It looks like a different room."
"Glad you like it. Now why don't you take off your jacket and loosen your tie and relax and have your drink."
"I think I will," her brown-eyed neighbor replied, taking off his expensively tailored sports jacket. Brandie allowed her eyes to savor the lean muscularity of his back and shoulders as he hung it in the hall closet. You could do worse, she mused to herself. Yes, you certainly could do worse.
Warren came back into the room and settled down in the comfortable armchair opposite the couch. He took a deep swallow of his Scotch and let the fiery liquid slide slowly down his throat. "That hits the spot," he declared, as the tensions of the day as well as those aroused by his lengthy description of Wendy's troubled history seemed to lift from his shoulders. He'd forgotten how good it was to relax totally in his own home. Wendy did her best, of course, but she couldn't be expected to provide the special touches an older woman would think of. And she shouldn't have to, he reflected. She had a right to enjoy her youth, like other girls, not spend it looking after her father and keeping house.
In the silence that followed while they each sipped their drinks, the young widower allowed himself to look pointedly at the beautiful woman seated opposite him. God, she was lovely!. His inhibitions and gentlemanly reserve were weakened somewhat by the alcohol and the constant pressure of desire that had been mounting steadily in his love-starved body all evening, and his gaze was more frankly appreciative than it had ever been before as his eyes took in the lushly rounded contours of her spectacular body, the delicate curves of her legs and the enticing fullness of her breasts as they rose and fell softly with her breath.
"A penny for your thoughts," his sultry companion murmured, returning his gaze from beneath her thick-lashed blue eyes with a look that made Warren's stomach turn over with a flash of sweetly aching lust.
The dark-haired young executive paused a moment before replying. The first words that rose to his lips spontaneously were a frank admission that he wanted to ... to fuck her, to seize her sensually promising body in his arms and possess her totally, right then and there. The intensity of his reaction shocked even himself, and he had to struggle to keep his voice steady when he finally replied.
"I'm thinking that maybe I've been very selfish all these years, refusing to consider remarrying again. I've been so busy burying myself in the past that I've been very unfair to my daughter. Of course," he continued, rising from his chair and walking around the room with his drink in his hands to subdue the sexual relentlessness that was rising like an inexorable tide in his loins, "at the moment, I have to admit I'm not as remorseful as I should be."
"Oh?"
"No." He stopped his aimless pacing next to the arm of the couch. Scarcely knowing what he was doing, he set down his drink and grasped Brandie's hands in his own, pulling her to her feet. "Because, if I hadn't waited so long, I might never have met you. And that would've been the biggest mistake of all!"
Instantly, their two bodies flowed into each other's arms and their lips met in a long and soul-searching kiss. Desire thundered through Warren's body like a tropical thunderstorm as his arms encircled her soft, sweet-smelling body, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. Brandie's arms snaked up around his bare neck, and she returned his kiss passionately, parting her full moist lips slightly so his tongue could begin to explore. His warm cock sprang to full erection in his trousers, and he knew she must be able to feel its blood-engorged length throbbing hungrily against her belly, but he didn't care. Still holding her tightly, he finally tore his lips away from hers, but only long enough to bury them in the perfumed paleness of her heck and shoulders.
"Oh Brandie," he murmured thickly, "I want you ... not just tonight, but all the time. I want you so badly it hurts. I...."
Brandie stopped his words by placing the tip of her finger over his lips. "Don't try to tell me, Warren," she whispered. "Show me, show me now!"
Warren stared at her for a moment, unsure of the implications of her words. Brandie felt a momentary twinge of regret at her bold invitation. Perhaps it was going too far, and she should continue to be reserved and demure, letting him take all the initiative. But, damn it, she wasn't a plaster statue! How long could he expect her to keep a check on her own raging female passions? If it made him uptight to know that she was as hot for him as he was for her, then it wouldn't work anyway. That was all there was to it. Without saying another word, she tried to let him know it with her eyes, to communicate to him that her need was as great as his for the quenching of the wild sexual fires that made her face flush with heat and her body tremble from head to toe with the pounding of her blood in her veins.
But her fears were unfounded. Warren was too firmly in the grip of his own passion, his ordinary processes of thinking and judging knocked too much awry by lust and alcohol to be shocked. With a low groan of sensuality, he pulled her close once again, his lips seeking hers and his hands running over the chiffon-covered smoothness of her back. Gone from his mind were all thoughts of Wendy and her problems. Nothing existed for him except the closeness of this flaxen-haired beauty whose body was pressed so warmly against his own, her hands caressing his muscular back and shoulders as eagerly as he touched her. For a moment, they held their tight embrace, then, moving as one, they sank down slowly onto the soft cushions of the couch, their bodies locked tightly together.
Still kissing, Warren cradled her shoulders in one arm and angled his body so that his other hand could move easily to caress the firm voluptuously full mounds of her breasts. He touched one softly at first, then cupped as much of its ripely upthrust flesh into his hand as his fingers could encompass, squeezing it with greater pressure as knife-like stabs of pleasure coursed through his pounding loins. God, his body was on fire! He felt like a man again, a fully potent desirable man for the first time since Harriet had died.
"Ohhhhhh," Brandie sighed, letting her head fall backwards against the support of his arm as his free hand continued to explore the excitedly heaving roundness of her breast, teasing her nipple into erection beneath the shimmering black chiffon that covered her. "God, that feels so lovely, so lovely!"
Using his hands with an instinctive sureness that he thought he'd forgotten, Warren continued his lascivious caress, while his lips teased and nibbled at Brandie's shell-pink earlobe. His tongue darted inside the sensitive orifice, and he blew teasing little currents of warm air into it, which caused the hotly aroused blonde to shiver and writhe sensuously in his arms.
Her own red-tipped fingers slid smoothly down his side over the width of his leather belt and onto the thickly corded expanse of his trouser-covered hip. She ran her hand in lewd little circular motions over his thigh, each movement bringing her fingers closer and closer to the thickly bulging mound of his lust-swollen penis lurching excitedly inside the tight confines of his pants. Suddenly, she placed her palm flat against its quivering length, her fingertips resting on the rounded flesh of his cock-head where impatient little droplets of his pre-cum had made a dark wet circle on his pants. She thrilled inwardly as she felt the long thickness of his penile shaft in full erection. It felt like a piece of hot pipe under her hand, rock-hard and pulsing with desire.
Warren felt as though he had received an electric shock as her fingers began to massage his blood-engorged rod of flesh through his trouser material. He groaned loudly, a deep gutteral animal sound that he could only stifle by pressing his mouth down once again onto hers. She opened her lips wide, and their two tongues mingled lewdly and hungrily while their hands raced greedily over each other's passion-incited bodies in a wildly obscene search for satisfaction. Warren felt as though his cock was about to explode, and he had to reach down and grip Brandie's wrist to stop the tantalizing motion of her hands on its blood-sensitized length. Undeterred, Brandie began pulling his shirt out of his trousers, and then she snaked her hand up under it onto his bare flesh, making little moaning sounds that she couldn't or wouldn't control. Wendy's father slipped one shoulder strap of her black chiffon dress downward over her upper arm, then slid his hand inside the bodice of the garment to close his fingers over the silky softness of her naked breast. His blonde neighbor leaned backwards to give him easier access to her body and began fumbling with the heavy buckle of his belt.
Suddenly, mustering all the self-control he could, Warren pulled back. "Brandie ... are you sure? I wouldn't want you to do anything you'd regret in the morning."
He was looking at her so searchingly, full of concern that he was taking advantage of her, that the blue-eyed call girl had to fight down the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. In all her checkered history, no one had ever been so considerate of her before. It made her want Warren Wendt more than ever, differently than she'd ever wanted anyone. Something was happening to her, something wonderful that she didn't quite understand.
"I'm sure," she finally replied, her eyes shining. "But-" A troubling thought suddenly crossed her mind. Maybe Warren himself would regret it in the morning, when he awakened to remember that he'd made love to her on his own living room couch with his sexually disturbed teenaged daughter asleep upstairs.
The dark-haired widower frowned slightly. Then he got up from the couch and went to the door leading into the hall. He listened for a second or two, then closed the door softly.
"She's sound asleep still. And she rarely wakes up during the night. We'll just have to be quiet, that's all. Do you mind?"
From across the room, he looked at his beautiful neighbor's face and body. Her hair, shaken loose from her neat evening chignon by their fevered embraces, curled around her passion-flushed face and shoulders, and Warren thought that there must not be a more beautiful woman anywhere in the world than the one half-sitting, half-lying there on his sofa. As he watched, she stood up slowly and reached behind her back, and he heard the sound of the zipper on her dress opening.
"I don't mind if you don't," she smiled. And then, as he moved across the room toward her, she gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders, and her dress rustled to the floor in a billowing black circle around her ankles.
Chapter Five
In the bedroom upstairs, however, Wendy was far from asleep. In fact, she had been standing by her half-opened bedroom door for about twenty minutes, straining to hear what the muffled voices in the living room below were saying, and it was only the sight of her father's shadow preceding him -into the hall that had alerted her to his coming, so that she'd hurriedly closed the door all the way. Once she was certain he was gone, though, she opened it again. She frowned as she realized that the door to the living room was now closed She couldn't hear a thing.
"Why doesn't she go home?" the brown-eyed teenager thought resentfully. "Why is Daddy letting her stay so long?" It seemed like forever since her father and Miss Harper had let themselves in the back door, though it was actually less than an hour. And now everything was quiet in there. What could they be doing? she wondered fretfully, unconsciously nibbling on her fingernails with anxiety.
Suddenly Pete Haney's crude revelations surged into her mind. Looks like your father's getting his share, Wendy ... Her heart beat faster at the forbidden thought. Was that terrible woman tricking her father into something? Maybe ... maybe the silence in the living room meant that they were kissing or ... or doing other things, things like that man had made her do to him. But that was impossible. Her father would never do such awful things. Would he?
All at once, she thought she heard someone talking again. No, no it wasn't talking, she decided, straining her ears to hear. It was more like a cry, or a groan. Something about the alien sound made Wendy's body tighten with tense curiosity. She had to know what was going on in there. She had to.
Being careful not to make the slightest sound, she crept down the stairs, her young body scantily clad in baby-doll pajamas, shivering a little with the chill of the summer night air. But the brown-haired fourteen year old scarcely noticed the cold, for her attention was riveted to the closed living room door. She felt a strange excitement as she tiptoed toward the door, as though she were about to discover the answer to some deep mysterious puzzle. Also, she had never spied on her father before, and the thought that she was -about to watch him without his knowing it was oddly thrilling.
"Ohhhhh, Warren, that feels so good! Oh! Oh! Yes!"
Wendy stopped frozen in her tracks as Brandie's words reached her. They weren't loud. In fact, it sounded almost as though she were trying to whisper, but couldn't quite control her voice. If Wendy had been upstairs behind the closed door of her room, as she knew she should be, she wouldn't have heard a thing.
The nearly naked adolescent's body shivered at the strange sound, and as soon as she was sure no one had heard her, she padded down the last few steps and crept stealthily to the door. Then she crouched down to press her eye against the keyhole. Her eyes opened wide at what she saw inside. Daddy and Miss Harper were both naked, and they were standing in the middle of the living room, kissing and running their hands all over each other's bodies!
Then, as they came out of the kiss, Wendy saw what it was that had made Brandie cry out so strangely. Her father had his fingers up between her legs. He was touching her there, just the way that man in the car had done to Wendy! The secretly watching teenager began to feel the sharp tingling sensation in her own little pussy again at the unbidden memory, coupled with the lewd sight her unprepared eyes beheld through the keyhole. In fact, it felt as though there were a thousand little humming birds all fluttering around at once in her stomach. So overcome was she by the sudden pleasurable sensations that it didn't even occur to her for the moment to be jealous of Brandie, or even very aware of her at all. For there was something much more compelling to watch, at least to the inquisitive eyes of Warren's daughter.
For, as the two illicit lovers stepped back from each other slightly, Wendy found her eyes riveted to her father, to the huge thick shaft of flesh that jutted out obscenely from his thickly curling brown pubic hair. For the first time in her life, she was gazing at her father's naked cock!
Oblivious to the fact that his every move was being observed by his daughter from her cramped position in the hall, Warren gently eased Brandie's nakedly glistening body down onto the couch. His impulse was to throw himself on top of her immediately and thrust his huge cock all the way up into her belly like a jackhammer, but he restrained himself, although with difficulty. He wanted it to be good for her, too, this first time. He wanted her to know he was a good lover, that he really cared for her, enough to hold back his own pleasure until he was sure that she was right there with him, all the way.
Once she was lying down, therefore, he positioned himself between her legs, but instead of placing his lust-thickened cock at the entrance to her already moistly palpitating vagina, he squatted back on his heels and ran his hands down the full length of her naked body, from her full, round, melon-like breasts, over her smooth white abdomen and softly flaring hips, down to the curly light tangle of pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs. Then, placing his thumbs on the soft cushions of her vaginal outer lips, he slowly spread them apart, stretching her taut passion-flushed pussy-flesh so that the tiny red bud of her clitoris jutted out like a soft, dewy blossom. He massaged the sensitive button, of flesh for an instant with his thumb, then, still keeping his hands in place, bent all the way down so that his head seemed to his eavesdropping daughter to be buried between Brandie's legs. Opening his mouth, he put out his tongue and slowly licked her glistening pussy, starting at the bottom, close to her tiny puckered anus, and working leisurely upward to her visibly throbbing clitoris, which he finally seized between his lips and kissed, sucking hard on it and darting the tip of his tongue over it in a back-and-forth motion.
Brandie's face contorted in an expression of agonized pleasure, and she bit her lip and dug her fingers into his. naked shoulder to keep herself from crying out. Then suddenly her back arched like a bow, her fleshy buttocks rising off the couch as her pelvis lurched upward to meet Warren's lewdly probing mouth and tongue. put in the hall, Wendy watched the obscene acts taking place in the living room of her house with horrified fascination. So intense was her concentration that the brown-haired teenager could feel almost every thrill of pleasure that wound through the neighbor woman's obscenely writhing frame as her father ran his thick wet tongue over her nakedly exposed pussy. With a rush of vicarious excitement, Wendy's own tender pussy was throbbing heatedly, and she could even feel a growing circle of mysterious moisture seeping down onto the surface of her sheer, ruffled pajama panties. Almost absent-mindedly, her small hand slipped down between her legs to touch the sensitive part of her anatomy that suddenly seemed to be responding with a will entirely its own. Unconsciously, her developing young body began to sway back and forth in rhythm to the lewd bobbing of her nakedly kneeling daddy's head, still lodged between the smoothly sculpted columns of Brandie's widespread thighs.
Something about the scene was awakening in her the dim shadow of a memory, something she couldn't quite totally recall, but which filled her delicate young body with intense thrills. Her jealousy of Brandie and her anxiety to keep the sultry blonde away from her father were nearly forgotten, so entirely absorbed was she in watching the two obscenely writhing bodies on the living room couch.
Now her father had shifted his position. He raised his head from between Miss Harper's parted thighs, and Wendy could see that his lips and chin were glistening with a dewy wetness.
Since her own pubescent cunt was also drenched with a sticky dampness that spread over her fingers lightly, even through the material of her thin yellow baby-doll panties, the inquisitive adolescent immediately assumed that the substance which her father was now wiping away with the back of his hand was the same thing. The thought that he had had his mouth down there both horrified and thrilled her. She began to imagine that the fluttery sensations taking place in her own tender pussy came from a man. An almost unbearable rush of pleasure over her whole thinly clad body accompanied the lewd image, and with trembling hands, the keyhole-peeping teenager suddenly plunged both of her hands down inside the tight elastic waistband of her baby-doll pajamas, all the way down to the naked flesh of her sparsely haired pussy. Arching her body to get a better view of what was happening in the living room, she began eagerly fingering herself, scarcely able to maintain her balance with the sharp trembling her lusty little fingers produced as they rubbed crazily up and down her palpitating cuntal split. It felt good, so good, better than anything she had ever felt in her young life. The only thing that could surpass it, she suddenly realized, would be ... would be if her daddy were licking her up and down in that secret place, the way she'd just seen him do to their neighbor!
Now Warren was balanced on all fours between Brandie's widely splayed legs, and his swollen cock rubbed maddeningly against the desire-heated surface of her small vaginal entrance. Grinning down at her, Warren let the lust-filled tip of his bulbous cock-head slide tantalizingly up and down her sex-hungry pussy-slit, driving her nearly out of her mind with the desire to have the long thick rod plunge deep up into her lewdly pulsing vaginal softness.
Brandie had almost never in her life experienced such irrepressible feelings of sexual craving. Usually it was she who teased and then withdrew, driving her partner wild with lust-inciting gyrations and caresses until he was at a fever pitch of excitement. But this was different. She felt helpless against the uncontrollable waves of naked lust that Warren was creating in her flailing limbs and pleadingly outstretched pussy and her body was consumed with the need to have his blue-veined staff thrust deep inside her hungering vagina, filling her belly to the limits of her capacity and beyond. She raised her hips higher and higher, pursuing the heavy rod of flesh as it danced teasingly up and down her pulsing vaginal furrow, trying to get him to end her torment. But his throbbing cock continued to tease her tortured flesh until she clawed wildly at his back, begging him in a raspy voice.
"Please, Warren ... please ... oh God ... please take me ... take me now!"
The thick rubbery head of Warren's penis stopped its incessant rubbing between her lewdly grasping cuntal lips and slid down until it was poised just above the tiny pink entrance to her cunt. His hands slipped beneath her whitely trembling thighs, drawing them up so they splayed outward and nestled around his waist, her heels digging into his taut-muscled buttocks for support. He let his thick-girthed penis part her light curly pubic hair and edge itself into the soft hot wetness that surrounded the incredibly tight opening, searching, burrowing, sliding inward.
His muscles started jerking involuntarily and he had to push ... push hard against her, feeling the softness of her pussy-mouth give as it opened to admit his massive hardness. The little hair-fringed orifice between her open thighs gave way willingly, and in one sudden thrust, Warren rammed his lust-bloated cock halfway up into her steaming vagina.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!" she moaned reflexively, in spite of her desire not to make any noise. She couldn't help it. She had never felt anything like it. Her cuntal walls, swollen with desire, clamped tightly down onto Warren's thrusting rod, and the movement of his lustily rummaging penis was almost painful. It felt so big inside her, thicker than anything she'd ever felt before ... and she'd felt a lot of them! It even hurt each time he flicked his hips forward, driving relentlessly deeper into her stretched and straining passageway with every lewd stroke. Higher and higher he went, -and the blonde call girl, despite all her sexual sophistication, had to grit her teeth to stifle the low moans of pleasure-tinged pain escaping her lips.
The handsome widower felt a surge of masculine pride and potency at her sensual response, and for an instant, he held himself perfectly still, savoring the keen sensations of pleasure swelling in his athletically trim body. His body arched, with his blood-engorged penis lodged high up in Brandie's greedily clutching vagina, and his blood pounded crazily in his brain. God, she felt good. He'd forgotten how good it could feel to fuck, how soft the pressure of a woman's helplessly clasping vaginal muscles around the swollen circumference of his rock-hard cock. Pushing himself all the way up over her on his palms, he flung back his head and closed his eyes, then began moving his hips slowly so that his thickly throbbing cock made lewd little circular motions deep inside Brandie's naked cunt. He was teasing her, and teasing himself, too, wanting to prolong the unbelievable delight of this first encounter as long as possible.
Outside in the hallway, little beads of perspiration broke out on Wendy's forehead as she watched the lewd scene taking place in her living room. Her eyes were wide with fascination as she tried to get the best possible keyhole view of her virile father screwing his big penis deep into their neighbor's obscenely upturned body. She had never seen even a picture of two people making love before, and so every detail was equally fascinating to her. The sight of Brandie lying naked on her back, the shimmering flesh of her usually haughtily upthrust breasts falling softly outward toward her upper arms, her long white legs spread wide and curling up around her father's back, excited in the young brunette teenager a sudden sensation of kinship, a recognition of her own womanhood. She, too, would one day lie like that beneath a man, she knew it suddenly, with a wordless knowledge that came from deep inside her, older than she, timeless. The thought sent a jolt of wild desire knifing through her young adolescent body, and she had to bite her lips to stifle the groan of sexual longing that hung suspended there.
Her hands were still pressed tightly against the increasingly damp flesh of her innocent young pussy beneath the thin baby-doll panties she was wearing, and it seemed to the heatedly aroused girl that her whole being was centered in that palpitating area up between her slender thighs. It was all hot, and sometimes her belly contracted suddenly in a way that felt very good, but strange, as though her body had suddenly developed a will of its own. The heat was spreading in ever widening circles, all over her nearly naked body, making her pussy-lips suck inward with unrecognized lust, and the excited teenager wriggled instinctively against the tightly pressed hand, her round little buttocks bobbing in a lewd back-and-forth motion.
But why did Brandie cry out like that? Did it always hurt so much? she wondered, her brow furrowing in alarm as she saw Brandie's face contort in something like pain and heard her moaning uncontrollably as Warren entered her again. "No ... no, it couldn't, Wendy was sure of that, she knew it somehow. The shadow of a memory flitted across her mind, but the aroused child brushed it away, channeling all her attention on her father and Brandie Harper, Her father! Wendy could hardly believe how beautiful he looked, all naked, with every muscle of his back and shoulders down to his buttocks, strained and taut as he began thrusting slowly in and out of Brandie's welcoming pink vagina. He looked like the statues of Greek gods she had seen in her history books in school. The inquisitive teenager let her eyes rove at leisure over his muscular body. Dimly she knew that what she was doing was wrong, but she didn't care. She just couldn't go back to bed now. In fact, the instinctively sensed wrongness of it only added to the dark excitement she was feeling. Her breathing came faster as she watched through the keyhole, and she moistened her dry lips with the tiny pink tip of her tongue. Almost unconsciously, her outthrust middle finger began slipping and sliding between the moist cushions of her sparsely fringed pussy lips. Delicately she traced the line of her untried cuntal furrow, delighted with the warm shivery sensations her hands created on her naked flesh.
What did it matter if what she was doing was wrong, she thought dreamily. It felt so good. Besides, what daddy was doing to Miss Harper was wrong too, wasn't it? And he didn't care. It must feel good to him, too, otherwise he wouldn't do it. Maybe sex didn't have to be right to feel nice. That man in the car hadn't cared that what he was doing to her was wrong. Her daddy had been terribly angry at him, she remembered, but now he was doing even worse things to someone else.
It was puzzling, but the curvaceous teenager didn't let it occupy her mind for very long. Her wetly probing middle finger was working its way up, up into the narrow little split of her virginal pussy, and her whole body trembled with the delicious feelings that coursed through her quivering young cunt. While her eyes were riveted to the lewd scene inside the living room, she was all at once seized with a new idea. Quickly she pulled her hands away from the moistened crotch band of her sheer pajama panties and lowered the flimsy garment down over her slender hips and legs. Setting them down carefully on the floor beside her so she wouldn't forget them later, she kneeled down again on the floor with her eye glued to the keyhole. Then she lowered her hands to her now naked pussy flesh and resumed the titillating caresses up between her legs that were exciting her so. She smiled to herself as this new, lascivious idea took her over completely, for in the young teenager's imagination, she was not crouched obscenely outside the door of the living room, wantonly fingering her virginal pussy while she watched her father lewdly skewer the lady across the street with his long thick penis. No! She was a grown-up woman whose body was moving back and forth and up and down, just like Brandie's. Wendy's fingers slid slowly and experimentally up into her own desire-heated adolescent pussy, first the middle finger only, and then, because the hard, stretching sensation felt so nice, her index finger too. She began moving them in and out, just the way her daddy's cock was moving in and out of Miss Harper's nakedly upturned cunt, adapting her speed as exactly as possible to the rhythm she could observe between the two gyrating adults on the living room couch.
In a bizarre mixture of depravity and innocence, Wendy was pretending, wafted away on a fantasy as only a child can be. In her mind's eyes, she was lying back on the cushions of the couch, her legs spread wide, her eyes looking adoringly up at the naked body of the man who was her father!
Inside the living room, Warren had long since ceased to hold himself motionless over the ravishing blonde neighbor's body and, urged on by the hungry clutching and clawing of her hands at his back and buttocks, was plunging in and out of her wetly clasping vagina in long hard strokes. Slowly at first, he pulled back all the way until his thick and ruddy cock-head nearly slid out of her heated cuntal entrance, and then forward, all the way up between her thighs until he could feel his blood-swollen cock rubbing against the hard nub of her cervix and his sperm-tightened balls, against her buttocks. Gradually he increased his momentum, carefully holding himself back so that he wouldn't cum too soon, as his whole body had been aching to do from the instant he had first penetrated the beautiful blonde who was now writhing almost uncontrollably beneath him, her blonde hair flying in every direction as she flailed her head about on the cushions of the couch, and her bare heels digging frenziedly into his fast-pumping buttocks.
Resolutely he shut his eyes to block out the sight of her lusciously wriggling body, lest the visual stimulus, added to everything else, should make him cum. He wanted her to be right there with him, and that was worth waiting for. He could feel that she wasn't far away from her own orgasm. Christ! She went off like a pistol from the second he first touched her.
Now he drove himself into her full force, then rotated his pelvis lewdly, driving the voluptuous blonde wild with desire, i
"Uuuuuuunnnggghhh!" she groaned, clenching her teeth and twisting her hips beneath him to intensify the sharp sensations of lusty pleasure that were rapidly consuming her burning flesh.
"Oh Warren, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
The sex-driven widower was shocked, but not at all displeased by her obscene outburst. He had never heard her use any language that wasn't ladylike, except for an occasional damn or hell, and the idea that she was so carried away by passion as to plead shamelessly and explicitly for what she wanted only increased his enjoyment of their torrid coupling. His wife, although a warm and loving bed partner, had always been a little on the prudish side about expressing her sexual pleasure verbally, and Warren found Brandie's frankly lusty words as effective as a powerful aphrodisiac. With an animal-like growl, he began driving his rigidly pulsing cock deep up into her cunt like a battering ram, lifting her lower torso with each deep-drilling thrust.
Beneath him, Brandie mewled with delight and, clutching his shoulders so tightly that her nails made crescent-shaped indentations in his lightly sweat-dampened flesh, she dug her heels into the couch and raised her loins high to meet him, so that each stroke of his lust-powered cock penetrated her even more deeply. This was the way she liked it - hard, hard and mean, like two jungle cats clawing and biting and half-tearing each other apart.
And Wendy, watching from the hallway, was also seized with an excitement that consumed her whole body. Her breath was coming faster and faster, and her nearly naked body was trembling and flushed all over. She had no power now to stop the wild gyrations of her hips and hands as they clutched and probed each other, her fingers diving wildly in and out of her tight, slippery cunt. Her mouth hung open,- and her pubescent breasts blossomed like small round balloons beneath the sheer material of her baby-doll pajama top.
"Ooooohhh," she sighed breathlessly, scarcely making a sound in the quiet hall, "Ooooooohhh, Daddy!"
Her buttocks bounced lewdly as she knelt there, driving her young girl's cunt down hard onto her own rigidly questing fingers, setting off skyrockets of carnal feeling deep, deep inside her jumping belly. She was on the verge of her first orgasm ...
No ...no it wasn't the first! Not the first time she'd felt this delicious sensation in her adolescent loins! Suddenly, it came back to her in a rush of dreamlike memory. The man in the car, he forced her to suck his cock and then - then he had done things to her, things that made her feel quivering and excited all over, until she was writhing and wriggling against him in abandon.. And she had loved it! Loved every minute of it! And wanted more!
The explosive recollection triggered a climax of lust in the kneeling teenager's young body, and her pelvis jerked and twitched convulsively in the first throes of orgasm. At the same moment, the moans and cries of her father and Brandie Harper became louder, as they too, reached the crest of desire. The ravishing blonde's pelvis lurched upward trembling all over and grinding down on Warren's thickly probing cock, her face contorted with erotic ecstasy.
"Ah ...ah ...aaaaahhh!" she cried, unconscious now of the need to be quiet. "I'm cumming! Oooooohhh Warren, I'm cuuumminggg!"
Wendy's father, too, had reached the fiery apex of lust as he drove mercilessly into the scalding flesh of Brandie's ravaged pussy. Suddenly his gargantuan cock shuddered as if jolted with a thousand volts of electricity, and in the next second he growled with urgent animal lust as a heated stream of cum burst forth from the parted glans of his cock-head and thrust itself deeply upwards into the ecstatic call girl's wildly twitching cunt. On and on the turbulent release came, catapulting the shameless pair to undreamed of heights of pleasure.
From her hiding place behind the door, Wendy, too, was experiencing rush after rush of galvanic excitement, in perfect synch with her father and his lover. Her ripely budding body shuddered with raging warmth as she rammed her slender wet fingers in and out of her ever-widening vaginal passage, lost in a frenzy of delicious erotic thrills. Nothing she had ever experienced before in her young life remotely matched the wonderful sensations that rippled through her scantily clad body now, and it was all she could do to muffle her instinctive moans and cries of unbridled pleasure, which threatened to give her presence away. Finally, however, it was over, and the disturbed young girl felt the tantalizing sensations slowly begin to ebb away. Through the keyhole she could see that her father and Brandie had passed the high point of their obscene coupling, for they lay quietly together on the couch, their naked bodies still twined together, breathing heavily in the luxurious aftermath of their union. For a moment, Warren's young daughter gazed spellbound at the titillating sight of her handsome father sprawled lewdly across the heaving white body of his new friend. The brown-haired teenager yearned to be in Brandie's enviable position. She knew, now, of course, that Pete was right. Brandie and her father were lovers. She couldn't imagine how her handsome sire Could have let himself be trapped by that neighbor woman's attentions.
He must be so lonely, she thought to herself, so lonely. He must have thought I couldn't make him happy the way mother had, so he had to turn to a woman like her. But he didn't have to ...he didn't have to.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Warren and Brandie begin to stir lazily. Quickly gathering up her limp and dampened pajama panties from the floor beside her, she quietly made her way back up to her bedroom, her slim young body still throbbing heatedly from her self-induced orgasm.
In the living room, unaware that they had been watched by Wendy, Warren and Brandie sat quietly on the sofa, their nakedly exhausted bodies touching intimately, and smoked cigarettes, both pleasantly satisfied and determined not to break the sweet spell of their recent copulation.
"My, my, my ..." Brandie sighed lazily after a few minutes, "it's been a long time since I've felt like that..."
"Me too," the hard-muscled widower murmured contentedly. "Maybe we should do this more often."
"Anytime, lover," the ravishing blonde whispered as she leaned over to kiss the nape of his neck, "anytime."
Chapter Six
A few days later, on a warm, sunny morning, Pete Haney was guiding his delivery scooter smoothly down the suburban Los Angeles streets. The basket on the back of his scooter was full of bags of groceries, and the hyper-sexed youth whistled happily as he rode. It was the last day before school started, and, as luck would have it, Mike, his friend from Hollywood, showed up the previous night with a fresh load of goodies, including a new drug the handsome youth had never tried before. He remembered how excited he became when Mike handed the capsules to him.
"They're called Zoom-40's, kid," the expensively dressed man in his early thirties had said, "and there ain't been nothing like'em on the market since those elephant tranquilizers."
Pete had put the pink capsules snugly into his shirt pocket and now, riding jauntily down the street, their presence near his heart gave the overly confident teenager a fresh feeling of power and maturity. It was the last day of freedom before school, and he couldn't believe how fortunate he was to have acquired this special treat just before returning to a new round of long, dull classes. He smiled smugly to himself as he realized how the other kids would envy his possession of the 'Zoom-40's'. They'd know now, once and for all, that Pete Haney wasn't just another small town punk, doing a little dope on the weekends. No sir, he was big-time. Even Mike had said so. It gave him a feeling of pride to have the admiration of the stylishly dressed dealer from Hollywood. No question about it, Mike was a cool customer with pale blond features and a scar that ran from his right ear to his chin. Pete promised himself that one day soon he'd blow the scene in the valley and head for the city to live. He was going to be like Mike, looking sharp, making big deals, and having all the chicks he could handle.
Yet, even in his neighborhood, the long-brown-haired teenager knew he wasn't doing so badly. He couldn't believe it, in fact, when Brandie Harper. called the store that morning and asked for a delivery. She'd been avoiding him lately, ever since she'd taken up with Wendy Wendt's father. In fact, he'd almost felt as if she was giving him the brush, and he was seriously considering looking for revenge. A few well-placed rumors, and the statuesque blonde would be ostracized from the town. But there was no need for action like that, it seemed. She'd placed an order, and he was about to deliver, in more ways than one.
Minutes later, the arrogant youth pulled up near the kitchen door of Brandie's house. Tugging up his tight jeans so that the throbbing bulk of his testicles made a noticeable mound in his crotch, he picked up a bag of groceries and headed for the door.
Brandie Harper was upstairs in her elegantly furnished bedroom, finishing the last of an extensive makeup job on her face, when she heard the back door buzzer sound. Slowly, she rose from the chair, fastened her silk robe around her voluptuous body, and made her way downstairs.
It must be the Haney boy with the groceries, she thought to herself. I'd better play it cool with that kid. I don't want him hanging around any more - but I don't want to get on his bad side, either. He could make a lot of trouble for me if I'm not careful.
Moments later she opened the back door, a serene, but definitely not a seductive, smile on her face.
"Hello, Pete," she said pleasantly. "Thanks for bringing the groceries."
The ravishing call girl reached out for the bag, but Pete slipped neatly inside the door before she could stop him.
"It's okay, baby," he said with a suggestive edge to his voice. "I'd do anything for you, you know that, don't you?"
"Thanks," she said, "but I don't have time to talk today, I have a lot to do."
"You don't seem to have much time for anything, these days. How come you don't call the store anymore?"
"I've been rather busy, lately, and I've been picking things up at the market near the bus stop. I've had to be in the city a lot... "
"I'll bet."
Brandie glanced with annoyance at the cocky youth, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, obscenely jutting his slim hips forward so she couldn't miss the throbbing signs of bulging arousal at his crotch.
"And just what is that remark supposed to mean?"
"Oh, I get around, baby, I hear things. I'm no dumb local yokel, you know. I got friends in the city, friends who probably move in your circles."
"I doubt that," Brandie replied firmly. She didn't like the boy's innuendoes one bit. It was almost as if he knew what her "business" was, and it made her uncomfortable. Still, the chances were he was bluffing, and despite her concern, she felt a rising tide of contempt churning in her stomach toward the self-satisfied teenager. "How much do I owe you for the groceries?"
"Hell, baby, you know you don't have to pay me with money. I'm happy just to come by once in a while and ... get my money's worth in other ways."
The shapely blonde stiffened noticeably and her sensuous lips narrowed into a tight line.
"Pete, what happened that night between us was a one-time fling. It's over and it's got to stay that way, youknow that. I have to be careful of my reputation in the community."
"Reputation? Hah! Don't make me laugh.
You don't seem to give a shit about your reputation where Warren Wendt is concerned."
Brandie's blue eyes narrowed angrily.
"Now listen here, kid, you talk to me like that once more and I'll slap your face."
Her biting remark brought the youth up short. She was treating him like a punk, coming on like some kind of queen with him now, and giving him the old heave-ho. Well, nobody treated Pete Haney like that, not if they knew what was good for them.
"You better not try that," he said in a low, threatening voice, "not if you don't want this whole town to know what you are - a cheap whore who likes to fuck teenage boys!"
The shapely blonde froze for a moment, as a flash of terror shivered through her voluptuous body, but her control returned in the next minute and she smiled coldly at Pete and began to speak in measured tones.
"Look here, little boy, if I hear that you've said one word about me to anybody in this town, I'm going to call the police and tell them you're one of the biggest drug pushers in this town. You're not dealing with Little Orphan Annie here, lover, you're dealing with Brandie Harper, and she'll tie your ass up in a knot if you make any trouble! Got the picture?"
Her remarks took Pete by surprise. He realized suddenly that she had as much on him as he had on her. The cops already had their eye on him for dealing, and one word from her was all they'd need to crack down.
"Okay, okay, baby," he said, coolly, throwing his hands up. "Guess you got me by the balls, That's the way it goes, huh?"
"Yes, that's the way it goes."
"Okay, so that's that. Too bad, it woulda been nice to throw a fast fuck into you this morning."
"Get out," Brandie snapped, trembling. "Get the hell out of this house and don't show your face around here again."
For a brief moment, the arrogant youth stared at her with flashing hatred, then he walked quickly to the door, opened it, then turned back to face the haughty call girl.
"Okay, bitch, I'm going. But our little romance ain't over yet. Not by a long shot."
"I wouldn't count on that, little boy."
The rejected delivery boy left quickly, slamming the door behind him, and Brandie heaved a deep sigh of relief as she heard his delivery scooter sputter down the driveway.
In the split-level house across the street Wendy Wendt watched through the Venetian blinds of her bedroom window as Pete drove down the street. Ever since she had seen her father and his voluptuous neighbor making love in the living room she had been trying desperately to think of a way to "rescue" her father from the clutches of the flaxen-haired temptress. Now, seeing Pete, she remembered how he had hinted to her that he, too, was sharing the charms of the Harper woman.
Maybe he can help me, she thought darkly. Maybe he can help me show Daddy what a terrible mistake he's making.
The beaming teenager realized that time was short. School was starting tomorrow, and that meant she wouldn't have much time to make plans. She had to do something right away, today. The troubled fourteen year old somewhat resisted the notion of asking the delivery boy's help. She didn't like him much, and she wasn't sure she could trust him. Still, she had nowhere else to turn. Finally, after waiting long enough for him to return to the supermarket where he worked, she went downstairs to the hall and picked up the phone. A few minutes later she recognized the young male voice that picked up the receiver at the other end.
"Springdale Supermarket, can I help you?"
"Pete?"
"Yeah ... this is Pete. Who's this?" The young brunette faltered for a minute, then answered with surprising sweetness.
"This is Wendy Wendt."
"Wendy? Well, well, whatta you know ... seems like everybody's calling today. What's up, baby?"
"I... I haven't seen you lately ... how have you been?"
"I been okay. I'm surprised to hear from you."
"Oh ... I need a few ... groceries ... and I... I wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I treated you before."
On the other end of the line, Pete whistled under his breath and smiled darkly. They all come around sooner or later, don't they, he thought.
"Yeah ... well, that's okay. Water under the bridge, you know."
"Is ... is it too late for you to come by with some things?"
"Not at all, babe, just give me the list and I'll be over in a flash."
Taking a deep breath, Warren's disturbed young daughter made up a shopping list.
"That's ... that's all I can think of," she said when she was finished. "How soon can you come?"
"Ten minutes at the most. It'll be great to see you, Wendy."
"It'll be nice to see you, too, Pete," she murmured, barely able to maintain a cordial tone. "Please hurry."
"Sure thing, doll. I'll be there in no time."
So, it's done now, Wendy thought as she hung up the phone. Maybe it's wrong for me to do this, but I don't care. I have to help Daddy. I have to.
She went back upstairs to her bedroom and stood for a moment in front of the full-length mirror across from her bed. She was dressed in a pair of old jeans and a sagging sweat shirt which had belonged to her father. The young brunette decided to change clothes, to appear more attractive for Pete's benefit. Of course, she wasn't going to give him the idea she liked him any better now, but at least she could be friendly, and maybe tease him a little. Just until he agreed to help her. She slipped quickly out of her sloppy clothes until only a pair of frilly pink panties remained. Although she had recently begun to wear a brassiere to support her developing young breasts, she decided it wasn't necessary today, and quickly she donned a tight orange jersey that clung with attractive allure to her half-child, half-woman body. Then she struggled into a pair of tight-fitting white shorts that hugged her softly rounded buttocks and the adolescent flare of her hips. Loosening her long brown hair, she let it fall out of her pony-tail so that it hung around her shoulders, the way Brandie Harper's golden mane did. She was surprised, when she stepped back to glance at herself in the mirror, at how mature she looked, almost sophisticated, and at least a few years older than fourteen.
She smiled at her alluring reflection, feeling definitely grown-up now, and very clever to be dealing with her father's problem in such a direct, meaningful way. Things were going to be all right soon, she felt, everything was going to be just fine.
"Come on in, Pete," the maturing fourteen year old brunette cooed melodiously as she opened the kitchen door to admit the waiting delivery boy.
"Glad to," he replied jauntily as he entered, carrying a bag of groceries. "Where do you want this stuff?"
"Just leave it on the table." Pete set down the bag and turned to get a good look at Wendy. His eyes widened noticeably as he took in the appetizing vision of her slender frame enticingly clad in the tight jersey top and clinging shorts. From the looks of it, she wasn't wearing any brassiere, as he had noticed. She was a sexy chick, no doubt about it, with her tight clothes and her hair falling in waves about her pretty face. He sensed, too, a change in her attitude towards him. She wasn't so cold and icy now, her eyes seemed to glitter with friendliness, and the brown-haired nymphet was much more relaxed than she had ever been with him before.
Well, he remarked to himself inwardly, maybe that Harper dame is uptight, but this little number is giving me the come on. And that's okay by me. I'd rather have some fresh young pussy any time than some old tramp who's gettin' cranky.
"Would you like a Seven-Up, Pete?" Wendy asked.
"Sure," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table and letting his eyes explore her scantily clad body while she moved about the kitchen.
"I wanted to talk to you about something, Pete" Warren's daughter said hesitantly as she got two Seven-Ups, out of the refrigerator and opened them. "I know I've been rude to you in the past, and I'm sorry."
"No sweat, baby. Never too late to get acquainted, that's what I always say. You missed having old Pete around, huh?"
Wendy winced slightly at his words. God, he was such an immature boy. So shallow. She had half an urge to tell him to go, but she knew she couldn't. She had to go through with her plan, and anything was worth the help Pete Haney, and only Pete Haney, could give her now.
"School starts tomorrow," she said, handing the cocky teenager a glass of Seven-Up and ice, then sitting down across from him with a glass of her own. "Are you excited about going back?"
"Nah, it's a waste of time. I'll be glad when I get the hell out."
"I know what you mean. I wish I didn't have to go. I get so nervous when I have to meet people."
Pete watched as the fourteen year old brunette sipped at her Seven-Up. She seemed nervous and apprehensive suddenly.
"Don't worry, kid," he reassured her confidently. "I'll introduce you around. I know all the right people."
Warren's daughter glanced at him for a moment, then looked away as if she was on the verge of crying.
"Hey, what's wrong, Wendy? It won't be that bad. Don't get upset about it."
"It's not... it's not that," she said in a quivering voice, "it's ... it's something else. Oh, I wasn't going to say anything ..."
"Hey, what is it, baby? C'mon, tell me." His curiosity was piqued now, and he wondered what Wendy was so disturbed about.
"Remember ... remember that night when you said that Daddy and Miss Harper were ... well, you know ..."
"Oh yeah," he said with a sly smile, "I remember. What happened? You find out I was telling the truth?"
"Yes...yes, I did. Oh Pete, I can't let it happen. My father might fall in love with her. He might even want to marry her. I can't let it happen!"
"Well, that's the breaks, you know. If your father's hung up on that bitch there's nothing you can do about it."
"Oh yes there is. I'm sure of it. Only ... only I need your help."
Pete Haney stared hard at the pretty fourteen year old girl. So,-he thought, that's what this is all about, all this sweet talk and come-on eyes. She wants me to help her get her old man away from Brandie. I should have thought as much. Fuckin' chicks, the only time they give you a tumble is when they want somethin' out of you. Well, she's gonna find out I don't do favors for nothin'.
"So you want my help, huh? What do you want me to do?"
Wendy got up slowly from the table and began pacing nervously around the kitchen as she spoke.
"You told me ... you told me you ... uh ... spent the night with her ... was that true?"
"I ain't' in the habit of makin' up stories like that. Don't need to. It's true, all right."
"And ... and you said you thought other people ... other people ..."
"You mean I think she sleeps around a lot? Yeah, that babe's a whore if I ever saw one. Ya know I got a friend named Mike, from the city. And when I told Mike about this dame and described her he said she sounded like a crazy chick he knew that turns tricks in the city for a big fee."
"Turns ... turns tricks?"
"That means she's a prostitute, and gets paid loads. Maybe she don't work in the streets, maybe she's in some kind of fancy apartment, but she's a whore all the same. Course, Mike wasn't sure. He said he'd have to take a look at the chick, but even if she ain't, that baby's sleepin' around like a rabbit that can't quit."
"Then I've got to keep my father from getting closer to her, do you understand, Pete? I have to!"
"Sure, I understand, Wendy." Inwardly, he realized that this curvaceous brown-haired kid must be half-nuts. Hell, that funny gleam in her eye when she talked about her father. Jesus, maybe all women were looney. It sure seemed that way. "But, what can I do about it, babe?"
"I want to show my father what kind of woman she is. I thought maybe if you could visit her tonight... and while you were with her ... If my father could see ... he'd know she was just a tramp and wouldn't have anything more to do with her, I know it."
"Well... I don't know if I could do it... she ain't been so friendly to me lately ... of course, if I brought my friend, Mike, with me, maybe we could manage it... Mike can handle anything, chicks just" cream in their pants when he's around ..."
"Please Pete, please help me. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."
"It's risky, you know. It ain't gonna be easy. Course, you know, I got to get something out of it, too."
"What... what do you mean?"
"I mean, you got to make me an offer I can't refuse. What'll you do if I go through with it?"
"I haven't any money ..."
"That's no problem, baby," he said, smirking lewdly, "in this world a chick like you don't need money. You got everything you need right inside those nice tight shorts you're wearing."
Wendy bristled at his suggestive words, and her face blushed a bright red. Her immediate impulse was to show him the door, but she couldn't do that. She needed his help.
"W-what do you mean, exactly?" she finally asked, scarcely daring to look the long-haired delivery boy in the eyes.
"Well, baby, you want me to do a favor for you, a very special kind of favor. Seems only fair for you to do the same kind of favor for me ... " His eyes roved hungrily over her ripe young body and he leaned back in his chair, reaching down with his hand to lightly stroke the ample mound of his erectly throbbing penis inside his tight pants.
"I've never ... I've never done it before," Wendy whispered, scarcely able to control the trembling in her voice at his obscene demand.
Pete grinned lewdly. "That's okay. I dig virgins."
Warren's daughter could hardly believe his callousness. It didn't matter to him at all that she was, as far as he knew, completely inexperienced. A wave of revulsion swept over her scantily clad young body, directed not only at Pete but at the whole male sex except her father. He was the only one she could ever, ever trust. More than ever, she needed to make sure that he escaped the trap of that terrible Harper woman. But without Pete's help what chance did she have tq expose her father's girlfriend for the evil woman she really was?.She couldn't do what Pete wanted, but maybe, maybe she could still get his help. Of course, she might have to cheat a little, but what did that matter?
"How do I know you'll keep your word if I do what you want?" she asked. "If you're willing to betray her for me, how do I know you won't just forget your promise after I let you ... do it to me?"
"I guess you'll just have to take my word for it."
"I can't do that," Wendy replied sharply. "After all, you might've just made up that story about Miss Harper to make me think you're really a big man. Lots of boys do that. They say they've done all sorts of things, when they're really ... not even out of diapers!"
"That ain't the case with me, babe, believe me. But I'm not gonna argue about it. If you won't put out, we got no deal." The sexually arrogant delivery boy got up from the table and began making his way to the door.
"Pete ... wait ..." Wendy insisted. "Supposing I let you do it after my father stops seeing Miss Harper?"
"How do I know I can trust you?" Pete grinned.
"Well..." Wendy's eyes shifted uneasily, "we could go upstairs now and ... and you could do other things ... you just couldn't..." she couldn't bring herself to say the words.
"I couldn't fuck you, is that what you mean?" Pete moved closer to her. "Well, what could I do?" he asked. "Come on, Wendy, tell me." He placed a hand on the back of her neck and began sensuously rubbing up into her hair, at the same time forcing her to look at him directly. "Just exactly what do you have in mind?"
Warren's shapely daughter could feel herself getting excited from his illicit touch, and her breath came faster. What could she promise?
"You could ... you could ... lick me... down there," she finally burst out, hardly believing the boldness of her own words. Her daddy had liked doing that to Miss Harper, so maybe Pete would too.
Pete's cock jerked upward at her obscene invitation. In fact it turned him on almost as much as being able to fuck the brown-haired nymphet. If that was what she was offering for openers, hell, in a couple of weeks, there wouldn't be anything he couldn't get her to do. "Will you suck me off, too?" he asked, pulling her closer and lowering his voice seductively.
"Yes ... yes I will," Wendy replied desperately. God, if he wanted that too, what choice did she have?
He ran his hands down her slender body and ground his denim-caged hard cock against her pubic bone. "Okay, Wendy. Lead the way upstairs."
The blood pounding excitedly in her veins, Wendy preceded Pete up the stairs that led to the second floor, opened the door to her bedroom, and stood aside for him to enter. Then she closed the door behind him.
"Real cute," he grinned, taking in the ruffled pink curtains and bedspread. "All-American girl."
"There's no need to be snide," Warren's daughter snapped. Now that the moment was actually here, she felt herself becoming nervous, even a little frightened. "Well, what do I have to do?"
"Why don't you start by getting out of those clothes so we can have some fun?" Pete replied, flopping down on her bed and emptying the contents of his shirt pocket on her bedside table.
Trembling with shame and a strange excitement, Wendy pulled her jersey out of the tight waistband of her shorts and, crossing her arms in front of her, raised it over her head, leaving her slender young body naked to the waist.
"Nice tits," Pete commented, as he took in the rounded, pink-tipped young mounds appraisingly. He got up from the bed and came over to her, and cupped his hands over her small naked breasts, massaging them lewdly until the nipples stood out from the surrounding whiteness in hard little points digging into his palms. Bending down, he took one between his lips and ran his tongue over it, making Wendy shiver involuntarily. She hated him for what he was making her do, but she had to go through with it, for Daddy's sake, she reminded herself. Besides, she was beginning to feel the slight twinge of the delicious feelings she had experienced a few evenings earlier when she had shamelessly fingered herself while peeking through a keyhole at her father and Brandie Harper. She had thought then that the intensity of her feelings was related to her love for her father, but the insistent stirrings in her adolescent loins made her wonder if it wasn't something else, something that just came from being touched and caressed the way Pete was doing now.
No. No, I mustn't think such thoughts, she admonished herself. It would be wicked to do these things if I didn't have to save Daddy! If I just keep thinking about him, every thing'll be all right! Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the image of her father as she had seen him that night, naked and powerful. Soon he'd know how much she loved him, so much that he'd never have to go to any other woman again!
Pete stepped back from her and unbuttoned his shirt, quickly stripping it off so that his own lean and hard body was naked to the waist.
Then he seized Wendy hotly in his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth, forcing her soft pink lips open so that his tongue could begin a feverish exploration of her warm oral cavern. At the same time, his hands reached behind her and unbuttoned the back of the tight shorts and slid the zipper down. He slipped his hands inside the skimpy garment so that he could grip her panty-clad buttocks in his hands.
To her own surprise, Wendy found herself returning his kiss with ardor. At first she was alarmed at the intensity of her own response, but then she decided that it was a good thing this was happening to her. It would make her more experienced when she finally gave Daddy the big surprise she was planning. And then, too, Pete's hard naked chest pressed against her soft quivering breasts wasn't at all unpleasant. Neither were the lusty probings of his tongue between her lips as he traced a wet trail over her teeth and the roof of her mouth.
"Mmmmmmmm," she sighed involuntarily, as the muscular young delivery boy ground his hotly throbbing cock against her belly, while his hands continued their lewd massage of her tight little buttocks.
"That's it, Wendy," he murmured, blowing warm little currents of air into her ear, "let yourself go and enjoy it. We're gonna have a real good time, you and me, a real good time!"
Pulling her over to the side of the bed, he sat down on it and began peeling her tight shorts down over her softly curving hips and the smooth white surface of her slender thighs. Delicately she stepped out of them and kicked them aside, so that she was now clad only in her sheer pink panties. Licking his lips with anticipation, Pete inserted his thumbs in the tight elastic waistband and pulled them slowly down along her trembling legs and off over her feet.
Now Wendy was completely naked, and the sex-inflamed delivery boy leaned back to get a good look at her. Christ, she was a cute little piece of ass! For a moment he toyed with the idea of forgetting their agreement and just throwing her down on the bed and fucking her senseless, but that wouldn't be cool, he knew. She was a little wacky around the edges, and there was no telling what she would do if he didn't play it her way. Besides, eating her pussy while she sucked his cock wasn't a bad deal for the first time. His eyes feasted on the sparsely flowing tendrils of hazel-brown pubic hair that formed a wispy vee at the juncture of her thighs, and his lips curled in a lewd smile while his hands reached down to massage his hungrily pulsing cock through the material of his jeans.
"You got a nice bod, Wendy," he admitted. "In fact you really do look good enough to eat."
"Well, why don't you do it then, and stop talking about it?" Warren's daughter asked, flinching at his vulgar words. She hadn't anticipated standing naked in front of Pete while he looked at her so coolly, and she was beginning to feel a little humiliated by the whole thing, even though it was kind of exciting, too. Why didn't he get it over with?
"What's the hurry? I just want to get a good look at what I'm getting. C'mere!"
"Why?" Wendy asked, feeling suddenly a little frightened.
"Cause I wanna see your cunt! And 'cause if you want me to set up that Harper broad for you, you better do exactly what I tell you! Understand?"
Obediently the naked brunette teenager walked over to his perch on the edge of the bed, forcing back the anger and degradation she felt. He was right. This was the price she'd agreed to pay, but she promised herself that someday she'd have her revenge.
"Spread your legs and lemme see your pussy," Pete ordered. The outraged young girl shivered as she thrust her pelvis forward and spread her legs wide so that he would see her nakedly pulsing puntal slit. "Wider," he taunted. "Pull your cunt-lips apart with your fingers!"
The humiliated girl swallowed hard and spread her legs wider apart. Then she placed her fingers at the fluted pink edges of her tight little vagina and slowly separated the sparsely haired outer lips so that Pete could gaze fully at the pulsing furrow of her soft cuntal flesh.
"Real nice cunt," Pete murmured with delight, staring at it for a long moment as though he enjoyed Wendy's humiliation. In fact, it gave him a great sense of power and satisfaction to have Warren's daughter at his mercy like this. She'd been so high and mighty to him at first, but now he was gonna take her down a peg or two, just like he was gonna do later to that Harper broad.
"Now why don't you get your ass up here on the bed while I get the rest of my clothes off. And play with your pussy, too. That gets me hot. I'lI bet you do it all the time anyway when you're here all alone. I'll bet you can't keep your fingers out of your cunt, can you?"
His deliberate obscenity made Wendy tremble with shame all over, but she had no choice but to do what he said. She clambered up onto the bed, lay back against the pillows and separated her thighs, letting her fingers fall onto the softly trembling flesh of her exposed young cunt, pink and narrow between her widely splayed thighs. Directly in front of her, at the foot of the bed, Pete let his eyes wander hungrily over her outstretched nakedness while he undid his belt and zipper, and lowered his faded denim jeans down over his hips. He wore no underwear, and his long, sinewy cock sprang immediately erect, swaying lewdly in the air in front of his round, high testicles. Grinning tauntingly, he gripped his, massive shaft in one hand and began stroking it up and down. Although determined to go through with this, Wendy turned her eyes away. "What's the matter, Wendy? Don't you like what you see?"
"It's ... it's all right, I guess."
"Think you're gonna like havin' this big rod shoved down your throat, baby, huh?"
"I don't know." The naked adolescent's heart was beating faster. This wasn't what she thought it would be like. Why did he have to say all those disgusting things? Couldn't he just get it over with?
"Let's find out, okay?" And before Wendy knew what was happening, the sadistically aroused delivery boy was on the bed beside her, kneeling next to her face. One hand encircled his pulsating staff while the other grasped the back of Wendy's-head and raised her up toward his ready, swollen cock. Instinctively the teenage brunette pulled back, but Pete yanked her hair forcefully.
"Suck my cock, you snotty little bitch," he yelled harshly, "and don't try any funny business with your teeth or you'll be sorry!"
Then, scarcely giving her time to comply, he shoved his red lust-distended rod into her mouth, deep on the first thrust, all the way to the back of her throat. Warren's young daughter gagged helplessly, and pushed at the delivery boy's belly with her hands, but it was useless.
Once his penis was firmly inside the smoldering cavern of her mouth, Pete placed his upper leg over her slender body so that he was now facing her feet, pinning her down completely with his weight, his muscular thighs standing guard on either side of her head, and his swollen hardness violating her almost virginal mouth. Wendy could' only lie helplessly while he rocked back and forth, his hands stroking seductively the length of her long, tapering legs, separating her thighs wide apart. Supporting his upper body on his elbows, and using both hands, he pulled her light-brown fringed pussy lips wide apart so that her naked young clitoris stood out from the surrounding flesh like a tiny penis. He was delighted to see that her cunt was wet with sweet female moistness. She wanted it all right. There was no doubt about that. With his cock still lodged deep in her mouth, he lowered his head and suddenly licked the full wet length of her glistening pink cuntal furrow, flicking his tongue back and forth over the tip of her clitoris.
"Nnnngggghhh," Wendy groaned as hot flashes of titillating arousal pulsed through her lewdly outstretched young body. It was a glowing warm fire between her legs when Pete licked her. It wasn't like anything she'd ever felt in her life, better even than the tantalizing thrills she had experienced while fingering herself in the downstairs hallway that night she had watched her father and Brandie Harper making love.
Her excitement was increased by the very presence inside her mouth of Pete's warmly surging cock. At first she resisted its insistent pressure, but gradually she realized that it was less difficult if she cooperated. Surrendering completely to its lustful sliding in and out of her pinkly ovaled lips, she found that the gagging feeling went away, and she could accommodate the interior of her mouth to his lewd slow movements.
Now, as shock waves of obscene pleasure vibrated in her youthful loins, set off by Pete's deft manipulations of his tongue over her hotly distended clitoris, she was amazed to discover that she seemed to possess an instinctive expertise of her own. Without even trying, she began sucking softly on his lust-swollen cock, taking him farther and farther between her lips with each movement of his hips, until the spongy surface of his muskily scented testicles grazed her nose with each stroke. Involuntarily she spread her milk-white thighs even farther apart to receive his rigidly darting tongue.
Pete, in turn, was licking and nibbling hungrily on her naked cuntal flesh, his whole body charged with lust as his tongue lapped up and down her wetly palpitating little slit. Stiffening his tongue, he drove it up into her tight vaginal entrance, flicking and whirling it until Wendy squirmed and wriggled helplessly beneath him, trying to raise her hips to take even more of the pink soft flesh of his tongue inside her. He could hear little mewling sounds of pleasure coming from her cock-filled mouth, and from the sensations she was producing in his heatedly pulsing penis, he could tell she was beginning to take hold and lose herself in this special brand of sex.
He could feel his balls tightening and filling with a heavy load of cum, and he knew that soon he would have to release it. His cock was beginning to jerk uncontrollably as Wendy's artful sucking forced his warm cum up a little farther with each breath, until it was threatening to explode. Increasing the pace of his salaciously probing tongue, he began using his fingers as well as his tongue on the nakedly outstretched brunette, so that it seemed to Wendy that he was stimulating her everywhere at once.
She even seemed to lose consciousness of the moment when his tongue and his fingers plunged in and out of her desire-heated young pussy and flicked irresistibly over her passion-charged clitoris. All she knew was that she felt deliriously wonderful in every crevice of her ripely blossoming adolescent body. She wanted it to go on forever, this wonderful new feeling that was like floating on a sea of bliss. And suddenly it happened. With a sudden groan of release, Pete's body jerked uncontrollably, and Warren's daughter felt the first gush of hot cum into her receptive mouth. At the same time, the long-haired delivery boy rammed two of his fingers all the way up into her steaming vagina and moved them in and out like a jackhammer, while his lips fastened on her clitoris.
Wendy felt as though she had suddenly been freed from the pull of gravity, as her body exploded in a movement in all directions. Greedily she lapped and swallowed the cream-like liquid that spurted from Pete's cock into her throat. At first it had seemed unpleasant, but now it was all just part of the wonderful sensations of orgasm.
It seemed like an eternity that their slender young bodies clasped each other closely, Wendy hugging up from below, and the delivery boy over her naked form, as the waves of their climax washed over them. Then Pete's swollen cock gradually began to soften and finally slipped out of Wendy's mouth, leaving a thin trail of white sticky cum on her passion-flushed cheek as he rolled off her prostrate body onto the bed.
Warren's young daughter lay still, her eyes closed, not wanting to lose the wonderful feeling of peace and contentment that pervaded her body.
"Well, baby," Pete said finally, "you won't have to worry about me breaking my promise. 'Cause after that, I wouldn't miss the chance to really fuck you for anything. Yeah, setting up Brandie Harper is gonna be a real pleasure with that to look forward to."
"Will it?" the satisfied girl asked quizzically. Of course she had no intention of fucking Pete Haney, at least not right away. After all, she was still a virgin, and it was very important to whom a girl gave her virginity. Warren's daughter smiled. Maybe later, afterwards, she'd think about Pete again. It had been more fun with him than she'd expected. But first, she had to plan her big surprise for Daddy!
Chapter Seven
Thirty minutes later, the teenage conspirators were back in the kitchen, fully dressed, and Pete stood at the door ready to leave.
"What... what time do you think you'll see her tonight?" Wendy asked, excitedly intense both from the galvanic thrills of her lewd behavior with the supermarket delivery boy and from the strange excitement of the plan she was setting in motion.
"Oh, say about eight o'clock. Figure by eight-thirty me and Mike should have her stuck like a pig on a spit!"
"That's fine ... that's fine," the scheming young brunette said. "And thank you, Pete ... This means a great deal to me ..."
"You don't have to thank me baby. You're payin' for my services, don't forget that. Oh, by the way, I have something for you." The thin, muscular youth reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small packet of aluminum foil. Opening it carefully, he revealed half a dozen small pink capsules. "They're called Zoom-40's. Brand new stuff, and guaranteed to get you off."
Warren's daughter's eyes widened in terror as she realized that the contents of the small packet were drugs! She knew that a lot of kids experimented with narcotics nowadays, but so far she had been totally removed from that scene. Now, Pete was actually offering her some.
"No ... I don't want any," she said with a trace of distaste. "And I don't think you should be fooling around with those things either. Drugs are dangerous, Pete, and illegal too. You could get in big trouble if anybody found out you had that."
"Bullshit, I'm cool as long as nobody talks. You ain't gonna spill the beans, are you baby? I mean that wouldn't be too hip, especially after our little fun and games."
"No ... no, I won't say anything, Pete, you know that. But... you know drugs aren't good for you."
"You been reading too many magazines," the hyper-sexed teenager remarked, laughing. "Not good for you? Hell, these little babies are gifts from the gods! Make you feel real nice and high. Take one."
He thrust one of the pink capsules toward her, but the nervous young brunette shrank back, afraid of having even the remotest contact with such things.
"No ... no, Pete I can't..."
"Hell, just take it. Maybe when you're not so uptight some day you'll try it..."
"What... what does it do?" the girl asked, hesitantly taking the capsules from the lean, long-haired youth.
"Everything, baby, everything. Makes you see the world in the best light, takes away all the bullshit. Like a truth drug, only better. Makes you horny as hell, too," he grinned.
Wendy went to the kitchen cabinet, took out a roll of aluminum foil and tore off a small piece to wrap the pink capsule. There was no point in refusing to take the capsule from him, she realized, even if she wasn't going to use it. Yet, somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind, the vaguest wisp of an idea was forming, an idea which had barely touched her consciousness, an idea that involved the possible use of the drug, like an automaton under the hypnotic spell of her neurotic scheming, she wrapped up the little capsule and tucked it safely in the pocket of her tight shorts.
"Thanks, Pete," she said, smiling at him conspiratorially.
"No sweat, kid," he replied. "I gotta get back to the store now."
"Don't forget about tonight," the teenage brunette called to him as he left.
"Don't worry, I'll by there," he yelled, straddling his scooter and starting up the motor. "Just leave everything to old Pete, all right?"
"All right."
In the next moment, the delivery boy was speeding down the driveway leaving a trail oi exhaust fumes behind him. Wendy watched him drive away for a moment, then turned back into the house. Later, sitting at the kitchen table, she reopened the tiny foil packet and stared with intense curiosity at the strange forbidden drug that Pete had given her.
"Maybe this is just what I need to make my plan work," she murmured meditatively. "Maybe this will make sure Daddy really sees the truth about Brandie Harper. Yes ... the truth."
By seven-thirty that evening, Pete Haney sat inside the brightly lit interior of the Red Stallion Drive-in, a slightly seedy but popular all-night eating place. Dressed in a skin-tight T-shirt, denim jacket and jeans, he was finishing a piece of pie and a cup of coffee. Across from him was a half-finished cup of coffee and a ham-and-cheese sandwich, a package of cigarettes and a ring of keys. The long-haired teenager glanced back and forth from the items before him on the table to the door of the men's room where his companion for the evening, Mike Foster, had gone only a few minutes before. Finally, the door opened and Mike returned to the room.
Pete was struck, once more, with his older friend's impressive appearance. He was a tall man, about six foot-two, with a strong muscular build. His face was pale, tough-looking, with strongly chiselled features, framed by thick, blond curly hair. A long, thin scar dipped down across his cheek to his chin, giving him a rugged, menacing look. He was dressed in a tight-fitting sharkskin blue suit with an ivory shirt and a pale light blue silk tie. His teenaged friend watched in admiration as Mike strode with masculine assurance down an aisle, taking long strides, until he finally slipped into the booth across from the long brown-haired youth.
"You were in there a long time," Pete said in a low voice. "Thought maybe you fell in."
Mike smiled darkly at the boy, his steelly blue eyes flashing.
"Well, man," he said in a husky male voice, "I decided I wanted to take more than just a shit. Decided that if we was gonna have some hot pussy tonight I wanted to make sure I was real stimulated for the fun. Know what I mean?"
The older man winked, and Pete smiled knowingly. He liked being with Mike. It made him feel grown up and manly, as if through Mike he had been accepted into the world of real men, a world of dealers, pimps, and sharp operators who knew how to make money and live on easy street.
"Did you take one of those Zoom-40's?" the teenaged delivery boy asked.
"Yeah, and some uppers too, so I should be flying pretty high by the time we get to this chick's house. What'd you say her name was?"
"Brandie ... Brandie Harper ... do you know her?"
"Well, the name don't ring a bell, but the way you describe her sure makes me wonder. Blonde hair and those blue eyes... blue as the Pacific ... there's only one chick I know could match that description, but there's no way to be sure till I see her. Anyway, she sounds like a nice piece of ass, and I could use some hot pussy wrapped around my cock. I been workin' too hard lately."
"Hey, Mike, maybe I should do up some Zoom40's, too. Do you think? Have a big party ... it's my last night before school starts."
"Sure, why not, kid? Get it while you can, you know. That's what my old man used to say. But don't go overboard, I don't want you ending up in the city morgue. You're gettin' to be one of my best customers."
"Hey, listen, Mike, I'm no kid. I'm cool. I ain't gonna o d., not me."
"Good. Now you're showin' your smarts, kid."
"But I think I will go to the John and drop a cap, okay?"
"Sure man, go ahead. When you get back I'll be finished with my sandwich and we can get ourselves ready for some real nice fuckin' and suckin'."
Mike and Pete laughed lewdly, and with a wink, the young teenager left the table and headed for the men's room.
At the same time, several miles away, Warren Wendt and his winsome daughter were settling down in the living room after dinner.
"Honey," the handsome father was saying, "that was a terrific meal. You're getting to be quite a cook."
"Thanks, Daddy. I thought I'd make something special tonight, like ... like Mommy might have done."
Warren gazed sadly into the limpid brown eyes of his shapely offspring who looked so much like her late mother.
"You miss Mommy, don't you?"
"Sometimes. But it was so long ago, and it hasn't been bad, just the two of us like this ... we're still like a family ..."
"Yes, in many ways we are, darling. You've been great, a perfect daughter. Still, you know I've been thinking that we could use a woman around the house again."
Wendy froze at his words and sat stiffly in the easy chair, trying hard not to show her Unhappiness at his remark. Why did he want to have another woman in the house? Hadn't she shown him that she could take Mommy's place? She could cook and clean and do everything expected of a good wife. And ... she could do other things, too ... if only he would realize it. Instinctively the troubled adolescent understood that her father was trying to prepare her for the fact that he might marry Miss Harper. Inwardly she was grateful that she had gotten her strange scheme in motion, for "if all went well, tonight Daddy would realize once and for all what a disgusting woman Brandie was, and know, too, that he didn't need any other woman to make him happy. He deserved the best, he deserved to be taken care of the way her Mommy had taken care of him, and his daughter was determined to do it!
"Daddy," she said softly, "I've been so happy here with you. Why do we have to change things?"
"I thought you'd like to have a new mother, honey. You know it's not good for you to be alone after school."
"But I don't mind ... I don't mind at all. And besides, it's so soon after ... after ..."
Warren knew at once that his pretty daughter was referring to the disturbing sexual incident that had happened to her in New York. Obviously she still felt she wasn't over it, and that a woman in the house might disturb her further. Yet the handsome advertising executive knew that the time had come to take action, and particularly since he was growing fonder of Brandie Harper every day, and saw her as a perfect partner, he felt it might be wise to be a little more firm with Wendy.
"Sweetheart," he said quietly, "I know you're still upset after... what happened, but I've been thinking lately that it might be the best thing for me to get married again ..."
"Daddy, would you like a drink?" his daughter asked brightly, suddenly changing the subject.
"Oh?" Warren said, laughing. "You mean you've been learning to mix drinks, too?"
"Sure, Daddy, there's lots of things I can do now, I'm practically grown up. Would you like some Scotch?"
"Well, why not? Let's see what kind of a drink you make. Just remember, two cubes of ice ... "
"And just a wee bit of soda. I know."
"You're amazing."
Her father watched, amused, as his curvaceous daughter went to the bar in the corner of the room and began to expertly mix him a drink. It was remarkable the way she handled the household and saw to his every need. If Brandie Harper hadn't come along, chances were he wouldn't have considered remarrying, because in a sense Wendy did fill that place for him ... except... except, of course, sexually.
Wendy turned her back to her father as she mixed the drink, and making sure he couldn't see, she quickly opened the pink capsule she had placed on the bar earlier and dropped the fine white powder inside into his drink, stirring the Scotch so that there was no trace of it visible to the naked eye. For a moment she hesitated. She began to wonder if she was making a mistake, instigating this elaborate, dangerous scheme to help her father. Maybe she was being ridiculous, putting this strange, unlawful drug into his drink. Maybe instead of helping things she would just make them worse.
At that moment, however, the sound of a car was heard screeching to a stop on the street outside.
"I wonder who that could be?" Warren asked, puzzled, as he rose to look through the living room curtains. Peering into the street, he could see a late model Cadillac stopped in front of Brandie Harper's house, and two men getting out. Although it was hard to distinguish clearly in the evening shadows, he thought that one of the men looked almost like the delivery boy from the supermarket.
"Who is it?" Wendy asked, her voice trembling with excitement.
"Can't tell, must be people visiting Brandie. One of them could almost be Pete Haney ..."
Suddenly the teenaged nymphet gasped.
"Oh no ... oh no, it can't be ... then it's true, it's true ..."
Warren turned to stare at his daughter, unable to comprehend her unusual reaction. He could see a look of horror in her eyes and tears forming in the corners.
"Baby ... what is it? What's wrong?"
"Daddy ... I can't tell you ... it's too awful... I can't tell you anything ..."
"Can't tell me what? Wendy, what is going on?"
A look of deep concern crossed his face, as the widower walked over to his daughter. She stood staring down into the drink she held in her hand, as if unable to speak, then she glanced up searchingly into her father's deep brown eyes.
"Here ..." she said, handing him the drink tearfully, "you'd better drink this ...I have something to tell you ... something awful..."
In the house across the street, Brandie Harper was reclining on her wide living room couch, dressed only in a flimsy blue chiffon negligee and sipping a martini when the front doorbell rang. A look of annoyance flashed across her sultry features when she heard it.
"Damn, now who the hell could that be at this hour?"
She had decided to spend the evening alone to do some serious thinking. The ravishing call girl knew that Warren was very close to proposing to her, and she was prepared now to accept. She wanted desperately to start a new life, and had decided, only minutes earlier, to give up her expensive Kensington Park West apartment, sever her old ties, and start again as Mrs. Wendt. Still, she wanted to give herself the whole evening to think things through, and the unexpected interruption broke her mood of thoughtful reverie.
Putting her drink down, she rose from the couch and moved sensuously across the living room toward the front door, stopping momentarily at the hall mirror to adjust her negligee and fluff up her loosely hanging blonde hair. Finally, after the fifth insistent ring at the doorbell, she went to the door and opened it.
At first, seeing Pete's familiar face, she was about to slam the door shut, but in the next instant she saw his blond-haired companion standing slightly behind the delivery boy. The sultry blonde's eyes widened in astonishment and her jaw dropped open in surprise.
"Mike! Oh my God, Mike!"
The tough-looking older man expressed momentary surprise as well when he saw the face of the beautiful blonde.
"Well, well, well," he said slyly, his eyes narrowing. "I should have guessed it was you."
"What are you doing here, and what do you want?" Brandie snapped back.
"You know this chick then?" Pete asked his companion.
"I know her all right," Mike replied, his lips curling back in a lascivious smile, "her and me is old friends, ain't that right, Goldie?"
"Goldie?" Pete echoed in bewilderment.
"Yeah, this here's Goldie Parker, one of the hottest numbers in town. So we meet again, huh, baby? Small world ain't it?"
"Get out, get out of here!" the shocked call girl shouted, trying to close the door hurriedly. But the two men with Mike in the lead, pushed inside the hallway.
"That's no way to treat a friend, Goldie, not after all this time."
Brandie closed the front door and then turned to face the intruders.
"I don't know what's going on here," she spat in icy anger, "but I want you both out of here in two minutes or I'll call the police."
"Oh, now I wouldn't do that, Goldie, not if you don't want to blow your cover here. Brandie Harper, huh ... nice name. Where'd you get it? Out of a phone book?"
"Hey, what's this Goldie business?" Pete cut in.
"This baby's real name is Goldie Parker. She used to be the wildest hooker in Long Beach until she got ambitious and fancy and moved into L A. where the bread was. She and me even shacked up for a while together, didn't we, Goldie, back in our younger days."
"Look, Mike, when I walked out on you and said I didn't want to see you ever again, I meant it. I don't know how you found me, or what you're doing here, but I'll kill you if you don't leave me alone,"
"Cool it, honey," the older man snarled, "we ain't staying long."
Casually, the stylishly dressed dope dealer sauntered into the living room, whistling under his breath as he took in the expensive furnishings and decor.
"Quite a setup, honey. For a hillbilly gal from North Carolina, you done all right for yourself."
"Mike here's my friend," Pete interjected, as he followed his companion into the living room. "I'll bet he is," the call girl said, moving cautiously behind him. Although she tried not to show it, her careful control was on the verge of collapse. The last person in the world she'd expected to see that night was Mike Foster, and his presence made her fingertips grow cold with fear. They had been lovers, years ago, in Long Beach, and Mike had pimped for her for awhile before she made the break to go uptown in Los Angeles. He was a small-time hustler, and she knew he always would be. But he could make trouble for her, big trouble, and that was one thing she didn't need now, now when everything was going well for her. "Suppose you two tell me what you want?" she asked, her eyes flashing with anger.
The older man shot her a hard look, his steelly blue eyes carefully taking in her curvaceous form, so sensually emphasized by the clinging negligee she wore. It had been years since he'd seen his former girl, and it was obvious to the experienced hustler that she hadn't lost a bit of her sensually smoldering allure. In fact, the years seemed to have given her a touch of worldly sophistication that made her appetizing figure and face even more desirable than ever. Already his large penis was stiffening rapidly in the tight crotch of his thin trousers, and his loins were churning with the same intensity of lewd desire that he had felt for her from the beginning, years ago in a small hotel room in Long Beach. He was beginning to feel the effects of the drugs he had taken earlier, too, and his tough, muscular body was throbbing with the heightened warmth and sensitivity they induced. Goldie, or Brandie as she called herself now, was more ravishing than ever, and it would be a kick to give her a real hard, wicked fuck ... for old times' sake.
"Like the old days, ain't it, baby?" he said, his voice thickening from the effects of the capsules.
"No," Brandie said stiffly, "it isn't like the old days. I don't want life to be like that ever again. I hated it and I always will."
Yet, deep inside, the shapely blonde felt a strange twinge of desire take hold of her. At first she attributed it to the martinis she had been drinking earlier, and cursed herself for being slightly tipsy at this inconvenient time. But there was something else happening, and she could barely admit it to herself. Seeing Mike again, after so many years, brought back an uncontrollable rush of desire. Her vagina was already swelling with excitement as if it recalled how thrilling their sex life had been. Christ, there hadn't been anything she wouldn't do for Mike then. She'd been crazy in love with him, ready to screw anytime, anywhere if he wanted her to. She had left him because he was a two-timing bastard, and cheated her every chance he got. But there was no denying, despite all that, that since him, she had never been as satisfied, as thrilled, and all the old feelings were welling up in her like a raging storm.
"Mike and me thought we'd pay you a visit and see if you were in the mood for a real good fuck tonight," Pete said.
His brain beginning to reel in a drug-induced stupor, the corrupt delivery boy could feel his youthfully anxious penis lurching like a bucking stallion in his jeans, and it was all he could do to keep from ripping the clothes from the blue-eyed beauty's fabulous body and fucking her like a madman.
"How dare you?" she cried in protest, "How dare you talk to me that way, you little punk."
"Hey, that's no way to talk to my friend," Mike slurred, walking toward Brandie slowly, like a tiger stalking its prey. "What's wrong with a little fuck for old times sake, huh?"
"Please, Mike," the sultry blonde pleaded, her voice now betraying her nervousness, "please get out of here and leave me alone."
The curvaceous beauty began to back away from her steadily approaching ex-lover in fear. The look in Mike's eyes told her that he wasn't about to be stopped, and she remembered with a shudder that she had always been powerless to resist him.
"Please ... please, no Mike," she murmured, suddenly finding herself backed up against the living-room wall, "not like this, please ...."
"Why not, baby? You used to like it anytime, any way. What's the matter, gettin' too high class for old Mike?"
Suddenly the drugged older man reached out and yanked harshly at the front of Brandie's flimsy negligee, completely exposing the front of her soft, milk-white body with one cloth-shearing yank. Without hesitation he reached out and grabbed the ample flesh of her tautly quivering breasts and bent down to kiss her harshly on the soft fullness of her red lips. At first, the tormented call girl resisted his obscene assault, struggling and twisting to get away from his lascivious hands and lips, but it was useless, and soon she felt her trembling body becoming consumed with fiery waves of unwanted passion.
Pete Haney, standing close by, watched in bug-eyed fascination as his friend from Hollywood pressed his powerfully muscled body up against that of Brandie Harper, grinding his hips into her pelvis and kissing her with animal intensity while he kneaded the pliant flesh of her ripe melon breasts. The drug-sodden teenager grew hotly excited by what he saw, and he knew that the scene he and his friend had planned earlier in the drive-in was soon to be an obscene reality. His rapidly swelling penis pounded like a trip-hammer in his jeans as youthful lust began to take hold of his slim body with the irresistible force of a tornado. Meanwhile, Brandie, unwillingly caught in the lusty drug dealer's hungry embrace, felt her mind billowing in turmoil. A maze of conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to resist the onslaught of thundering desire that sizzled through her lushly shaped flesh. She couldn't believe it was happening, trapped in her own living room by her ex-lover and a local teenaged boy, a helpless prey to their agressive male lusts. She couldn't give in, she couldn't; yet there was nothing to be done. They were stronger than she was, for one thing, and they had it in their power to destroy the one possibility of real happiness that had come her way by revealing her shady past to the locals. There was no way out of it, she had to surrender now to their lurid demands, otherwise her whole life was in peril. And besides, in her semi-drunken state even if she wanted to resist them, she could not fight off the creeping lust that threatened to consume her entire being. No, it was too much, and with a groan of submission she suddenly began to return Mike's searching kisses, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth and pressing her pelvis ardently against the stiff hardness of his fully erect penis as it lurched inside his trousers. As she moved her lips away from his and began to eagerly explore his neck, she could see, over his shoulders, that his teenage companion was lewdly stripping himself of his clothes, while his eyes glittered with mounting passion.
God help me, the helpless call girl screamed inwardly, oh dear God, help me!
In the house across the street, Warren Wendt sat numbly on the couch, sipping the drug-laced drink his daughter had prepared for him while Wendy tearfully revealed the terrible "secret" she had discovered. When she finally finished, seated erect in the chair opposite the couch, there was a long silence while her father absorbed her words.
"How ... how do you know Pete was telling the truth?" Wendy's father asked finally. "How do you know he wasn't making all this up? He's a boy, just a kid, how could he know about such things?"
"He said ... he said he's ... he's been with her too ... and that lots of other men have been with her ... oh Daddy, what if it's true? What if she's nothing but a ... "
"Be quiet." Warren snapped, cutting her off. "I don't want you talking like that when you don't really know for sure. I don't think Pete Haney is any kind of reliable source about anything, do you understand, and I can't believe that Miss Harper is... is that kind of person ..."
For a moment, the troubled widower grew dizzy and he leaned back against the couch to recover his senses. I must be tense, he thought. Hell, I feel awfully drunk on this one Scotch.
Unaware that his disturbed daughter had put the powerful white powder into his drink, he attributed his strangely warm and drunken state to the liquor and his anxiety over what Wendy had been telling him. He was sure the Haney boy had been making' up stories to impress his daughter. Yet, he had to admit he didn't know much about Brandie's personal life. He assumed that her occasional trips into L A. were for modeling assignments. Anything was possible, of course, but this was too incredible to believe. Setting down his drink, he put his hands to his temples and began to massage them slowly. His head felt like it was on fire, and he had great trouble focusing his thoughts. His whole body, in fact, began to react strangely, tingling with unusual excitement.
"Daddy," Wendy persisted, "Pete even said he and a friend were going to visit Miss Harper tonight, and have a big party. That must have been them in the car. You said it looked like Pete."
"It... it was too ... dark ...," Warren replied, startled to discover he had difficulty speaking, and when he did, the words sounded hollow, far away. "Wendy ... I... I'll talk to Miss Harper ... tomorrow ... my head is so... "
"But Daddy," his brown-haired daughter went on insistently, "it may be too late tomorrow. Maybe she's in there now with them ... you could see for yourself... oh please, Daddy, I could never even bear to talk to her again if I thought... oh, for my sake, Daddy, please, couldn't you go over... to see ... "
"To see? ... Honey ... I... " Despite his efforts to remain in control, Warren's brain reeled from the drug and alcohol combination. His daughter's suggestion that he go over to Brandie Harper's house and see for himself what was happening repelled him at first, but after a few minutes he began to think that maybe, after all, that was the best solution. To see for himself. "Yes... yes ..." he murmured in a slurred voice, "Maybe you're right... " After all, it wasn't for his own sake, it was for his daughter's as well. He couldn't take the chance that she might be traumatized again, not after what happened to her in New York. He had to know the truth, yes ... the truth ... and he had to know now. Half-blinded, he lurched up from the couch, barely conscious of his fogged condition, and went toward the front door. "I'll go right now... settle it once and for all... yes ... "
Trying to conceal her eagerness, Wendy assisted him to the door and opened it for him. Her eyes were ablaze with a sinister delight as she realized that her plan was working better than she had hoped. Mentally she congratulated herself for taking the mysterious drug from Pete and slipping it in her father's drink. It seemed to make him much more receptive to her ideas and suggestions.
"I'll be back in ... in a minute," he mumbled as he careened down the front walk. He was barely conscious of where he was or who he was. He had only one thing on his mind now; that was to find out if what his beautiful daughter told him was true. Ahead of him was Brandie's house, blazing with light, and he staggered towards it like a man obsessed.
Behind him, watching through the window, Wendy was breathless with excitement. It won't be long now, she thought happily, it. won't be long now.
Chapter Eight
In the brightly lit living room, all three of the lewd orgiasts were now completely stripped naked. Brandie was spread-eagled on the soft pile of the wall-to-wall carpet, while Mike held her arms and, with his thickly-muscled legs on either side of her head and his rigid penis waving lewdly out over her forehead, bent down with a growl of lust and began to suck voraciously on her softly quivering breasts. While behind him, Pete Haney eagerly hunched down and began to -stroke the helpless blonde's throbbing vaginal plane with his fingers, probing obscenely until he found her clitoris, and kneading the little bud until it began to quiver and stiffen, making the fast-breathing call girl writhe and moan in unwanted pleasure.
"Oooooohhh ... nooo ... please ..." she pleaded, still struggling to resist the vulgar pleasure that vibrated through her squirming body. She felt humiliated to the depths of her being to be taken so brutally by her ex-lover and the local delivery boy, but she couldn't resist the sheer, wanton thrills she was experiencing as
Mike sucked savagely on her breasts and the lusty teenager probed lewdly with his hands on her vulnerable vaginal flesh. Suddenly, too weary to resist, she cried out in utter pleasure, surrendering now totally to their onslaught. "Ooooohhhhhhh... Yyeeessssss!"
"That's the way I like to hear it, baby," her tough ex-lover snarled, "and when we're finished with you, you'll be beggin' for more. Come on, Pete, turn this classy bitch over, I want to fuck her royally for old times sake."
He rose and stepped aside while Pete bent down and gripped Brandie's hips with his hands, forcing her to turn over on her stomach. She lay on the rug without struggling now, the only evidence of her inner turmoil the trickling warm tears escaping from her azure eyes. The older man's heavily swollen cock grew even more stiff and jerked lewdly as he gazed with lust at his old girl friend's helplessly exposed ass-cheeks. Then, waving the excited delivery boy aside, he stooped down, grabbed both of the subjugated blonde's ankles, and yanked them harshly apart, splaying her long legs wide.
"Oh, no ... please ... no," Brandie suddenly cried as she realized what Mike had in mind. It had been a long time since she'd allowed anyone to take her that way, and she cringed in fearful anticipation of her ex-lover's inevitably brutal entry.
"Hold her down, man," Mike shouted to Pete. Quickly the slender teenager knelt and pushed one hand hard against her shoulders, and the other into the small of her back, pressing her down firm against the carpeted floor. Brandie struggled again for a moment, then lay still, waiting tensely for the inevitable.
The pale dope dealer dropped to his knees between the subdued call girl's legs and ran his big hands lewdly over the tapering lines of her trembling calves and up inside her sleekly sculpted thighs to the already passion-drenched interior between her legs. It had been a long time since he had known the pleasure of her spectacular body, which became familiar to him once more as he explored her with his hands. He growled in rising excitement as he ran the edge of his hand down the deep smooth crease of her shamelessly exposed buttocks, parting them slightly so that her tiny, puckered anus was visible to his lewdly gaping eyes.
"Looks kinda tight, Goldie," he said teasingly. "Maybe nobody's been up there since you left me. Gotta get it loosened up some, huh?"
He laughed as he slowly drew aside her soft white ass-cheeks. Instinctively, his ex-lover tensed them together, but Mike dug his fingers cruelly into the pliant flesh until she understood that any more resistance would only mean more pain. She relaxed her muscles, and the blond-haired man sucked in his breath, as the tight ring of puckered flesh came into view again. He pushed one hand down and thrust his extended middle finger savagely up into the tight, rubbery opening.
"Aaaannnnnggghhhh!" Brandie screamed as his stabbing finger knifed cruelly forward up to the first knuckle, and again as he went in up to the second knuckle, "Rrrrrnnnggghh!"
Both Mike and Pete chuckled pitilessly as the drug-sodden dope dealer fucked his finger relentlessly in and out of her anus, widening it, and sending vicious shafts of pain up through the tortured blonde's cringing back passage. At the same time, he began to stroke his heatedly swollen cock with his other hand, pulling the thick foreskin back with his thumb and forefinger to expose the huge bulbous head. And then he aimed the massive stiff rod right at Brandie's painfully aching nether hole, now stretched a little from the dagger-like thrusts of his stiffened middle finger.
He withdrew his lewdly stabbing finger, finally, and spread her trembling buttocks again with his thumbs, leaning forward to drop a large glob of spittle on the tiny opening to lubricate his entry. Then he leaned forward, placing the throbbing tip of his hard erect cock against her pulsing rectal hole. Then, propping himself on his elbows, he pressed his hips forward and bore into her, spearing his huge cock-head cruelly forward into her tight little anus.
"Nooooooo, stop! God, you're gonna split me wide open, Mike!" Brandie howled in torturous pain. But her ex-lover only laughed at her desperate cries, knowing that in a few minutes she would be loving every minute of it, like before when his cock was rammed up her like this just about every other night.
Nearby, Pete Haney looked on hungrily as Mike burrowed farther into the futilely resisting anal ring. Pete wanted to fuck her too. He'd been storing up a lot of revenge because of the way this blue-eyed bitch had treated him lately, and his adolescent cock got hotter and stiffer at the idea of plunging it into her cunt again.
"Eeeeeeiiinnnnggg!" Brandie shot out, gasping, as Mike's monstrously swollen cock finally skewered its way into the painfully stretching depths of her rectum.
"You're real tight in there, bitch," he taunted mockingly, "not like the old days when your ass-hole used to be like the Grand Canyon."
Brandie shuddered in humiliation as the pale-skinned dope dealer began to fuck slowly in and out of her. It was horrible to have him here and reminding her of the past; it was like having the worst imaginable nightmare suddenly come true. And yet, how strange it was to feel his gargantuan penis ripping into her rectum, the way it had so many years before. She cursed herself for finding it exciting, yet there was nothing to be done except go through with it. She hoped she could survive with some shred of pride still intact.
Pete, standing impatiently beside them, was jerking his hand obscenely around his blood-engorged penis, eager to join the party.
"Hey, man," he called to his older friend, "how about letting me get in on this!"
"Sure, kid," Mike grunted in reply, "c'mon. This bitch can take ten at a time if she wants to. Climb aboard!"
By the time Warren Wendt reached the front door of Brandie's house, he was so mentally fogged by the drug that his mind was no longer functioning clearly. He was operating under an irresistible compulsion, a compulsion to find out the truth about his prospective second wife and uncover the source of the damning rumors that his daughter had revealed to him only a few minutes before. Reaching the front door, he was about to ring the bell when he realized that he could accomplish his purpose better if he could observe what was going on inside without letting anyone know he was there. To this end he carefully stepped off the front steps and slipped into the bushes that surrounded the house, moving stealthily like a deer hunter. Instinctively, all of his old army training sprang into play as he edged silently through the evergreens and camelias toward the well-lighted living room windows, completely caught up in his mad endeavor, thanks to the help of the potent drug Wendy had put into his drink. He was no longer Warren Wendt, the respectable, rational advertising executive; now he was a jaguar on the prowl, possessed with insatiable curiosity, moving closer and closer to the window where he hoped to see what was happening inside.
Finally, he reached the window and, raising himself up slightly, peered through a small space where the living room curtains were pushed aside to give a clear view of the interior. What he saw made his jaw drop in utter shock and his eyes widen in disbelief. There, on the thickly carpeted floor, was his beloved Brandie, lying on her side, completely naked, crying out in uncontrolled ecstasy. And she was being fucked in the cunt by Pete Haney and in the ass-hole by a complete stranger!
The drug-fogged widower began to tremble with rage and astonishment as he watched the lean delivery boy thrusting his hotly swollen penis roughly up into the writhing blonde's visibly drenched vagina and the other man hammering his massive rod torturously into her anus from behind. She was sandwiched between them, her whitely gleaming body thrashing in wildly flaying response to the intense thrills of the double-fuck she was receiving. Her lips were parted and her eyes closed in ecstasy as she urged the two grunting and rutting males on with her hands. Nothing had prepared the dumb-struck advertising man for what he witnessed, and he crouched by the window in frozen shock, his eyes bulging, his heart beating like a jungle drum.
There was no question in his mind now that somehow or other his beautiful young daughter had stumbled onto the truth about his prospective second wife. For seeing Brandie responding so lewdly, so excitedly, to the savage assault from the two men left no doubt in his mind that she was a whore! The shocked widower felt his mind begin to smoulder with uncontrollable rage, and he had the immediate impulse to barge in through the front door and confront Brandie with what he had discovered. Yet he held back, for even in his drug-twisted state he realized that he would be putting himself in needless jeopardy by such a rash gesture, risking physical harm from the men and needless emotional turmoil with Brandie. No, he had the truth now, the truth that he had been deceived by this brazen woman, and there was no point in carrying things further. Yet he was rooted to the spot, unable even to return to his house. He could not tear his eyes from the orgy on the living-room floor, and his brain seethed with contempt as he witnessed the sultry blonde's apparently willing submission to a brutal fuck by both the local delivery boy and a brute of a man much older than either of them. Watching spellbound, Warren let his disillusioned eyes drink in the lurid sight of the debauched trio on the floor of the room There was no doubt about it, Brandie was enjoying her raucous double screwing, for her eyes were now rolling wildly, her shimmering golden tresses flying in every direction as she tossed her head in the throes of uncontrollable passion. Surprisingly, despite his violent anger, Wendy's father also began to experience another feeling brought on by the sight of Brandie's savage ecstasy, for the thick flesh of his cock stiffened involuntarily in his trousers and began to pound with lust.
Unaware that they were being observed, Mike and Pete drove mercilessly into the twin channels of the throbbingly hot body of the defenselessly abused call girl. Brandie, lost now in the fireworks of exploding passion, cried out in frenzied delight as the two wetly thrusting penises tore into her. Despite her initial anger, she had given in completely to the two powerful males, and an incredible forbidden excitement, a kind that she had almost forgotten existed, began to pervade every brutalized part of her flesh until she wriggled in total sensual delight, her nakedly gleaming body sizzling with a lewd mixture of pain and joy, mounting higher and higher into a vortex of unprecedented sensual thrills.
"Yeessssss..." she whined deliriously, "Yeeessssssss! Fuck me ... Fuck me... Fuuuuucccckkk meeeeee!"
Pete, the delivery boy, became even more savagely aroused as the voluptuous call girl began to cry out in complete ecstatic surrender. He couldn't believe how easily he and his friend, Mike, had cornered the stupid bitch. Man, Mike was the most. And to think he'd been her lover, years ago. The cocky long-haired teenager knew it wouldn't be long before he was in the big time. With older, wiser Mike as his teacher, there wasn't anything he couldn't or wouldn't do. Pulsing with raw animal strength, the lusty, drugged teenager drove into her with hard frenzied strokes, while Mike thrust up with cruelly knifing force into the shuddering depths of his ex-girlfriend's anus. They had developed a natural rhythm now, and Brandie was groaning maniacally between them as they ground into her like two angry bulls.
On his side, behind her, Mike grunted and moaned as he fucked his massively rigid cock into her tightly clenching anus, reveling in the familiar feeling of Brandie's silken rectum pressed tight around his own hard, muscular flesh. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he fucked into her with more and more merciless strokes.
Between the two men, the golden-haired siren was consumed with a raging hurricane of almost masochistic delight that swirled from the depths of her heatedly stretched loins. Her hips moved eagerly backward to meet the savage thrusting of her ex-lover's pulsating cock and forward again to swallow the whole of the arrogant teenager's roughly plunging penis. She undulated wildly between the two sweating male bodies, her buttocks rotating and heaving, her mind bubbling with a kind of sensual delight she had not experienced in years.
"Uuuuuuhhhh ggooodddddd!" she wailed from the depths of her being, "Aaaaabbbbbmrrrrggghhhh!"
Still hidden outside at the window, Warren was paralyzed by the obscene orgy he witnessed. His mind was whirling with rage and disgust, while his body, in a seeming contradiction of reflexes, grew hot with desire and lewd excitement. His genitals throbbed insistently and his penis had grown to monstrous size and now thundered in his pants, ready to explode. The handsome widower crouched in his hiding place like a madman, trasfixed by the sight of Brandie as she began sobbing excitedly in what was apparently the first throes of orgasm.
Inside the room, the obscene orgy neared the point of galvanic release as the passion-consumed call girl began to cry out like a wounded animal.
"I'm cummmiinnnggg! Cumm .. cum ..., cummminggggg!"
Her frantically writhing body was brimming with ecstasy as orgasm after orgasm flashed like heat lightning through her wetly exploding cuntal interior and burning pleasure and pain sparkled and rocketed up her spine like a million volts of electricity.
Mike and his teenaged pal both sensed her overpowering excitement, and it charged them both with renewed strength. Their two hotly swollen cocks became charged with savage male power as they fucked her brutally from both sides, searing the twin canals of her loins like raiding savages, sharing their total subjugation of the tempestuous blonde plundered repeatedly between their naked male bodies.
"Uuuuuuunnnnggghhh ... ah ... ah ... ahh!" Pete groaned as his sperm-heavy testicles suddenly tightened and then erupted with cum. Wave after wave of white-hot sperm squirted out of the parted glans of his thrusting cock into Brandie's wildly trembling cunt, and he emptied himself with deep guttural moans, filling the writhing call girl with his hot liquid manhood.
Behind them, Mike felt his own release not far off, and he began to knife his turgidly hard penis into her anus like a high-speed drill, tearing cruelly up between Brandie's ass-cheeks, until finally, with a deep animal growl, he reached his moment of climax and shot forth a thick hot rivulet of cum from his hard-pounding penis deep into the dark moist interior of his former mistress's heaving ass.
Still watching from the outside, Warren Wendt was almost ready to cum in his pants as he saw the others reach their orgasms. Yet he would not allow this to happen, and he held off tensely, unable to permit himself to release his cum, still too enraged by what he witnessed. Yet his muscular body trembled from head to foot with passion, mixed with a vicious anger that threatened to overpower him completely at any moment. He continued to watch as, one by one, each of the debauchee's completed their obscene release and finally lay sprawled on the floor, exhausted from their unbridled sensuality. Taking one last lingering look at the ravishing form of Brandie Harper as she lay on the thick rug, her voluptuously full breasts still heaving with passion, her eyes closed in the lingering afterglow of sex, he found himself for a moment feeling strangely sympathetic toward her, almost wanting her again. Yet in the next second the reality of what he had just witnessed once more took hold of his mind, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the sex-driven call girl smiling like a satisfied cat.
"You lying bitch," he murmured under his breath, "You goddamn lying bitch."
Turning away from the window, he weaved through the bushes and, his mind still numbed by the powerful drug he'd drunk, he stumbled hazily back towards his own house.
Chapter Nine
Almost as soon as Warren left the house on his way to Brandie Harper's place, Wendy raced upstairs to her bedroom to put the other elements of her plan into action. For tonight, she was determined, she and her father- would become as close as any two people could become. If everything worked the way she planned, the scheme she had hatched with Pete Haney - aided by the potent drug she had placed in her father's drink - would have the result she wanted, the only outcome which, to her disoriented brain, seemed logical.
Her daddy needed a woman. All right. She would show him that he didn't have to look any further than his own daughter. For ever since she had gazed at her father's lean nakedness twined lovingly around their blonde neighbor's body, the teenaged brunette had been obsessed with sharing with him the same intimacy. It seemed to her that once she admitted to that fact, that she wanted her father to make love to her, everything fell into place, like the pieces of a puzzle, and she even felt a strange sensation of peace. Although she knew that the act she was contemplating was one of the oldest taboos known to man, it didn't bother her at all. For somewhere she felt herself above the rigid codes that bound other people, and her daddy was, too. Of course, they'd have to keep it a secret, but it was worth it, in fact, it was worth any price to Warren's young daughter to have him all to herself at last.
She showered quickly, and was just coming out of the bathroom, clad in her bathrobe, when she heard her father come in downstairs. Her heart beat faster as his footsteps dragged heavily toward the stairs, then stopped as, looking up, he saw her at the top, waiting for him.
Wendy was shocked by the way he looked, his hair rumpled and his clothes stained from the dirt and bushes under Brandie's living-room window. The look on his face was strange, too, as though his emotions had suddenly been stripped naked, exposed for all the world to see. It even frightened the adolescent brunette a little. She had never seen her daddy look so hurt.
"Daddy ..." she began as he came toward her, "are you all right?"
Warren looked at his daughter, so young, so lovely and innocent, and she seemed to his drug-fogged brain like a vision from a dream. After what he had just witnessed of Brandie Harper's corruptness, Wendy seemed like a creature from another world. And to think he had even contemplated marrying that bitch, that whore, and bringing her into the same house with his already emotionally scarred young daughter! His brain reeled with the thought, and he had to reach out with his hands to steady himself on the upstairs railing.
"Yes... yes, I'm all right, baby,", he murmured. "I... I think you made that drink a little too strong, that's all. I need to lie down."
"Let me help you," Wendy offered, slipping her arm around his waist and guiding him down the hall toward his own room. Warren let himself be led, scarcely aware of what was happening to him now, for the drug's effects were just approaching their peak. He knew he felt strange, but he attributed it to the drink and the emotional shock he had just experienced at witnessing the scene on Brandie's living-room floor. God, would he ever dare trust another woman again? he wondered bleakly. And what if he couldn't? Brandie had unleashed powerful sexual feelings in the attractive young widower, feelings he had conditioned himself to control for years. How would he satisfy them now?
They were at the door to his bedroom now, and Wendy preceded him inside and turned down his covers. "Did you ... did you find out if what Pete said was true?" she asked.
"Yes," her father replied thickly. "I found out."
"Oh Daddy, I'm so sorry," Wendy whispered in false sympathy, going to him and slipping her arms around him. "I really am."
Her warm concern only made Warren feel worse, and he held his daughter tightly, rocking back and forth slightly and cradling her in his arms, as though he would never let go. "It looks like you're the only girl I can really trust, baby," he murmured sadly into her tousled brown hair.
"Oh Daddy, that's the way I feel about you," Wendy replied, snuggling closer against him and pressing her small body against his tall lean one.
Warren was surprised to feel his cock once more spring hungrily erect at her soft embrace. Indeed it had never really subsided since he had first seen Brandie lying nakedly sandwiched between Pete Haney and his tough-looking friend. Now, feeling the blossoming curves of his fourteen year old daughter's slender young body pressed against him, he was horrified to realize that he was beginning to have a sexual response to her, to his own daughter! Christ! What kind of monster was he becoming?
"You'd better go to bed now, honey," he said, pulling away from her abruptly and throwing himself down on the bed to conceal his sudden aching erection.
But Wendy had felt it with a thrill of excitement, and she knew that her father was reacting to her just the way she wanted him to. "May I come in and kiss you good night after I have my nightgown on?" she asked innocently.
"Sure, honey, of course."
The calculating young brunette left her father's bedroom and hurried down the hall to her own room. Once inside, she closed the door and quickly stripped off her bathrobe, leaving herself completely naked. She tore open her dresser drawer, in which she had carefully hidden something - something she had taken earlier in the day from the trunk in her father's room that contained her mother's things. Now she took it out carefully and slipped it over her head, then turned to look in the mirror. It was a gold satin nightgown that flowed around her curvaceous young body like liquid mercury, clinging to every youthful curve, and clearly outlining the hard little tips of her nipples. Wendy tightened the lacy string under her soft young breasts so that it fit even more alluringly, then took the pins out of her soft brown hair and let it cascade down over her shoulders. Satisfied with the effect, she began to tingle all over with excitement. She was going to make love, for the first time in her life, and with her own father! He was going to take her virginity and make her into a real woman at last, just like her mother had been! She could hardly wait, and yet she was a little scared, too.
"Oh," she breathed at her image in the mirror, "this is going to be the most important night of my life!"
Meanwhile, down the hall in his own room, Warren was beginning to feel stranger than ever. It required a great deal of effort for him to get up from the bed after his daughter had left and to take off his clothes. Finally he gave up trying to put on pajamas and just dropped his trousers, shirt and underwear on the floor. Then he pulled the top sheet down and stretched his naked body out uncaringly on the bed.
He felt... weird. Every muscle in his body seemed to be exhausted, and yet his cock was still half-erect and full of lewd energy, and his mind was filled with salacious images of Brandie Harper as he had just seen her, naked on the floor of her living room, her face contorted in ecstasy as she received the brutal double-fucking from Pete and his companion... of his wife, Harriet, brunette and loving, just like their daughter. God, it was incredible how alike they were, he thought vaguely. Indeed, when he thought of his long dead wife now, he could not really distinguish her features and body from those of Wendy's. God, how he wished his wife were still alive, to be the kind of mother Wendy needed, and ... and the kind of wife he needed, he admitted with a sigh. Memories of their all too brief years of marriage flooded his brain, and he felt even more aroused than before. He could see in his mind's eye, his beautiful young brunette wife, all naked, her long hair curling softly over her shoulders and down around her full, firmly upthrust breasts. It was an incredibly vivid image, and Warren's loins ached with desire as he contemplated it.
"Oh Harriet," he moaned, "Harriet, I miss you so much!" He wanted more than anything else to bury his cock in her warmly receptive vagina, to lose himself in her, as though the past ten years had just been an awful nightmare. If only it were possible! His cock stirred lustily, and he let his hand drop down between his legs to grasp its thickened girth, softly stroking it into even greater arousal.
Padding down the hall barefoot, Wendy paused outside her father's door just in time to hear his mournful words. She felt a shiver of excitement go through her as he spoke them, for she knew that she resembled her mother. Even if her daddy hadn't told her so on several occasions, she had seen enough pictures of the often photographed beauty to know that it was true. And her daddy wanted her mommy, right now, this very minute, when she was about to take the biggest step of her life, into her father's bedroom, clad in her mother's nightgown, looking exactly like her!
Wendy trembled inwardly at how perfectly everything was working out. Then, gathering all her strength and fighting down what seemed to be hundreds of butterflies in her stomach, she pushed open the door to the room and went inside.
Wafted away by the potent drug his daughter had put into his drink, Warren had forgotten he had told her she could come in and kiss him good night. Hence, he had not bothered to pull the sheet over his naked body, and when Wendy entered, he was still stretched out naked, his hand lightly stroking his blood-engorged cock.
It's almost as though he were waiting for me! Wendy thought with a thrill of desire as she softly closed the door behind her. There was no light on in the room, but the vivid moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated everything perfectly. The lustfully scheming daughter could scarcely believe her good fortune. Daddy was naked, dreaming of her mother while, he massaged his beautiful big penis, the penis that in only a few minutes would be shoved up inside her own narrow cuntal passage! For a few seconds she watched her father from the foot of the bed. Then she gently eased herself down beside him and began stroking his naked chest and shoulders.
Warren was so under the influence of the deadly Zoom 40 he'd unknowingly drunk, that at first he scarcely noticed his daughter's presence. It seemed just another aspect of the lively sexual hallucinations that were racing through his mind at lightning speed. He felt more intensely aroused than he ever had in his life, and he was too drugged even to wonder why. He yearned for a woman to make love to. With his whole being he desired a soft, receptive body into which he could pour the rapidly mounting torrent of desire that was consuming him from every side.
He seemed to be losing consciousness of his surroundings as he let himself drift into a drug-clouded semi-trance.
Wendy let her hands wander sensuously down his naked chest and abdomen, moving hungrily toward his desire-swollen penis from which his own hand had fallen aside, leaving it swaying blindly in the air. Gently she grasped it in her small hands, drawing the thick foreskin back and forth over the huge bulbous head, tickling the semen-filled ridge on its underside. Her gentle stroking of his pulsating hardness drove Warren to even greater heights of lust.
He moaned erotically, his eyes closed, as the sensual hunger of his daughter's lewd caress blended with the drug-heightened images of his wife that still filled his mind. Except that now and then the image changed, and instead of Harriet, he distinctly saw Wendy, his daughter. "No ... no!" he protested, as his mind, out of the control of his conscience and everyday morality, conjured up obscene pictures of his adolescent daughter, naked and beckoning, offering her still-virginal body to him, her own father! In his semi-torpor, he tried to resist the lewd images, but he kept being drawn back, like a magnet, to the way his brown-eyed brunette daughter's body felt when she pressed herself affectionately against him, the tantalizing feeling of her round little breasts against his chest, her nipples like two hard little peas, and the way her rounded buttocks jiggled with unconscious womanly allure when crammed into a tight pair of jeans. Even now, it seemed to the nakedly sprawled young widower that he could hear her melodious young voice crooning soft words of love into his ears, words that were almost obscene in their meaning. And at the same time, hot flashes of deliciously thrilling lust shot through his sex-starved body, as though invisible hands were teasing and manipulating his most sensitive areas.
"Oh Daddy," Wendy's voice crooned, "you have such a beautiful big penis. I love you so much, Daddy, and I've waited soooo long for tonight. I want to feel you inside me. I want to show you you don't need any new wife. I'll be a wife for you, Daddy, better than anybody else could ever be ... "
The voice went on hypnotically, and try as he might, Warren could not shut out its obscenely inviting words. It was like a dream, a deliciously forbidden dream, from which he couldn't wake up. It even seemed to the confused widower that he could see her now, too, a frail but sensuous brunette figure attired in a gold satin nightgown, crouched at his side, holding his rigidly erect cock in both her hands and murmuring soft words of endearment to it. It was Harriet, but it was Wendy, too.
"What's what's happening to me?" he asked, trying to force himself into full consciousness. But it was useless. His limbs felt as though there were lead weights attached to them, and he couldn't move, could only lie helplessly while his mind played lascivious tricks on him, and his loins began to ache with salacious feelings of increasing lust.
"Don't worry, Daddy," the voice crooned soothingly. "It's nothing bad. I just want to love you, not like a little girl anymore, but like a real, grown-up woman. Don't you want to love me like that, too? Don't you, Daddy? See... my pussy is all wet just from being close to you like this..."
Fascinated, Warren watched as the brown-haired hallucination knelt upright beside him on the bed and slowly raised the hem of her nightgown. Holding it up around her waist with one hand, she spread her legs and opened her sparsely hair-fringed cuntal lips with her fingers. Then she grasped one of Warren's limp hands with her own and drew it toward the narrow little opening.
Warren felt more aroused than he had ever felt in his life as the sensual little vision guided his middle finger up between her legs and placed it right on the entrance to her tightly throbbing cuntal slit, and then pushed. Inside, he could feel the thin membrane of her hymen, and the creamy liquid that seeped from her hidden vaginal softness.
"Oooooooohhhh," she murmured wriggling down into his outstretched finger so that it slipped up inside her to the first knuckle. "That feels sooooooo good. But your penis would feel so much better, Daddy. Wouldn't you like me to get naked right now and put it in me?"
Even as she spoke Wendy threw one leg out over his own so that her glistening little pink cunt was poised just above his wildly palpitating cock, which jerked upwards as though hungry for the appetizing little pussy only inches from its blood-engorged head. Then, squeezing her thighs together to keep her father's finger firmly imbedded in her moistly contracting cuntal depths, she began raising her satin nightgown up above her waist, revealing her roundly quivering little breasts to her father's stunned gaze. She tossed the garment aside and straddled his body, completely naked.
Warren couldn't take his eyes from her slender white nakedness. Her shameless words and actions were calling up in him a long-repressed jungle instinct, a fiery, forbidden desire he had never known existed in him before. From deep, deep inside his mind a thought he had never allowed himself began to take shape and fight its way to the forefront of his consciousness. For a few secdnds the brown-haired advertising man struggled against it, and then- he surrendered, defeated by the strength of the sensual stimuli that assailed him from all sides. Although it was only a hallucination, a bizarre fantasy of his own mind, he was sure, he suddenly realized that the sensual vision spoke the truth. He did want her! Wanted his own daughter! With a lusty hunger he could no longer deny!
Almost unconsciously, his finger began to pump up and down again in her tight little vagina, while his eyes roamed wildly over her naked young body, a dark glint of lust in them that Wendy had never seen before, but that excited her tremendously. No longer was her father looking at her like a little girl, but like a woman, a woman he wanted, just the way she wanted him.
"Oh Daddy," she breathed ecstatically, grinding her pelvis down hotly onto his probing finger, "you do want me! I'm so glad. Put it in me, Daddy, now! Now!" And she grasped his thick, heavily swollen cock in her hands and drew it feverishly toward her still-virginal pussy.
"Uuuuunnnnngggghhhhhh," Warren groaned, withdrawing his hand from her cunt and placing it on her hips as she lowered herself over him, letting the tip of his lust-stiffened cock brush softly against her throbbing little slit, against the thin membrane of skin that still protected the entrance to her untried cunt.
Slowly Wendy lowered herself farther, gathering all her courage, and spreading her legs wide, while her hands, trembling with desire, guided her father's pendulous cock to her desire-swollen pussy. She bore down as hard as she could, but her taut little hymen was resistant. Despite all her pushing and straining, her daddy's beautiful thick penis wouldn't go inside, and she whimpered fretfully as it lodged itself just at the entrance to her yearning vagina.
Warren was nearly overwhelmed with the hot thrills he felt as his huge cock pressed hungrily to enter her tight virginal pussy. Christ, she was so little, so narrow and snug. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He had to have her, had to plunge his achingly stiff rod deep up inside her and fuck her senseless, even if it hurt her. Still only semi-conscious, he could not fight down the growling primitive lust that surged through him at the contact of his lust-swollen penis with her tight little pussy. His jaw hardening, he suddenly raised his hips off the mattress, and. at the same time, pulled Wendy down sharply, so that his cock tore upwards into his daughter's moistly trembling vagina.
"Aaaaaaaiiiiieeee!" Wendy screamed, taken by surprise at the suddenness of the act. All at once her tender little cunt felt as though it were tearing, stretching unbearably under the assault of her father's massively plunging penis.
The sound of her painful cry jolted Warren momentarily out of his dream. Looking around him wildly, he suddenly was seized with shock. This was no fantasy! He was stretched out naked on his own bed in the dark, and this was his own adolescent daughter so obscenely impaled on his cock, her head thrown back and a grimace of both pain and ecstasy on her young, sweating face.
"Oh my God!" he burst out. "Wendy! Baby! What have I done? Oh God ..."
But Wendy's voice cut off his protests.
"Don't stop now, Daddy. It feels so nice! So hot! Give me more, Daddy! Please fuck me! Fuck me!"
Warren could scarcely comprehend the full meaning of her words, but the feeling behind them was unmistakable. She was enjoying it! His own daughter was begging him to drive his thick long hardness up into her virginal cunt, no matter how much it hurt. She wanted him with a bizarre passion exactly like his own. Her words seemed to make Warren explode inside as, goaded on by the powerful drug he had unknowingly taken, his body reacted to her plea with a force of a lightning bolt. Even while his mind recoiled in horror from what he was doing, his hips lurched upward, forcing his cock farther and farther up into the lewdly wriggling milk-white belly of his naked brunette daughter, who urged him on with her undulating body and a new torrent of lust-inciting words.
"Oh, that's it. More, Daddy, more! I want all of it. Ooooooooohhhhhh, it's so big and hot, and it's filling me up so wonderfully. It doesn't hurt anymore, Daddy, not at all!"
Wendy's wetly clasping pussy was now completely accustomed to his lengthy hardness, and Warren began to stroke into his daughter with vigorous but gentle thrusts, driving his pendulous cock far up into the pulsating walls of her newly deflowered vagina. He knew he couldn't hold out for long from releasing his hot cum into her welly clasping cunt. His own hot thrills were too intense.
Suddenly he wailed, "I-I'm almost there, baby! I'm. almost there ..."
"Oh yes, Daddy," his writhing sensuous daughter replied. "Cum inside me! Fill me up with it. And make me cum with you!"
Warren increased his pace even more, each furious stroke taking them both closer and closer to the lust-quenching peak of orgasm. He watched spellbound as his formerly innocent brunette child flailed her head wildly, her brown hair flying around her face tempestuously, her body now accustomed to his hard, fleshy cock, grinding down on him as though she wanted to force his climax as well as her own, riding his lewdly bucking loins as a child rides a fast-rocking hobby horse. She began moaning incoherently, her mouth opened wide, as spasms of impending orgasm ripped through her nakedly churning young body.
"Aaaaaaagggghhhhh!" she cried out suddenly. "Daddddddeeeeee I'm ccccccuuuummmm iinngggggg!"
"So am I, baby, sssssssoooo aaaaaaammmmmmm IIIIIIII!"
Suddenly they seemed to be floating free, wafted away from reality on an overwhelmingly satisfying wave of blazing sensuality that lifted them out of themselves in blissful togetherness, father and daughter, locked together in a warm liquid wonderland. They heard voices, raised in ecstatic cries, but scarcely knew they were then-own. On and on it went, until, after what seemed like an eternity, they drifted gently back to earth.
Wendy gently eased herself up off her father's softly subsiding penis, and collapsed beside him in his arms. "Oh Daddy, that was wonderful... better even than I'd dreamed it would be." Contentedly she snuggled tight against him.
What have we done? Warren wondered frantically, looking down at her tousled brown head nestled on his chest. Oh my God, what have we done? But before he could think of an answer, he fell once again into unconsciousness, completely drained by the galvanic coupling he had just shared with his daughter, and the powerful effects of the drug.
Chapter Ten
A light November rain fell all around the house as Warren Wendt sat comfortably in his living room. It was pleasant to spend a Sunday afternoon at home, particularly when the weather was so wet, and just watch television or read the papers. It struck the handsome advertising executive that his life had become much more relaxed since the fateful evening when he discovered the dark truth about Brandie Harper and found himself in the arms of his pretty brunette daughter. It was an impossible, almost absurd twist of fate that had juggled them all like pawns in a bizarre chess game, leaving results and changes that no one, especially the brown-haired widower, could have possibly predicted.
He glanced momentarily out the front window at the For Sale sign so forlornly placed in front of the home that once belonged to Brandie Harper. After witnessing her obscene debauchery with Pete Haney and his older companion, Warren couldn't bear to see the sultry blonde again, and had been quite curt and cold to her when she called the house, obviously confused as to why her prospective new husband was refusing to continue their relationship and affair. Soon, she stopped calling, and Warren assumed she must have guessed what had happened for she moved out of her house shortly after that, leaving no forwarding address.
Just as well, he thought, finally pulling himself away from the window. It couldn 't have worked, not after that night, not after what happened.
At that moment, Wendy came into the living room with a tray of steaming coffee and sandwiches, and Warren felt his heart begin to beat faster as he caught sight of his daughter's incredibly slender yet curvacious form so enticingly clad in a pair of skin-tight jeans and snug blue blouse, and the way her cascading brown hair .hung loosely about her radiant face. He realized that if the world knew the true nature of their relationship, he would be chastized, perhaps even crucified for all he knew. But then, too,, the thoughtful widower mused, his life with the brunette angel who was setting his tray down on the coffee table was far more satisfying, in every conceivable way, than any he had known before. Maybe to some it was shocking, even immoral, but to Warren and his teenaged daughter, everything was working out just fine. They had everything they needed, including love.
"I hope you like the lunch I made, Daddy,"
Wendy purred as she sat on the arm of his chair and hugged him around the neck.
"I know I will, sweetheart," he murmured contentedly, enjoying the closeness of her warm young body. "Don't I always tell you you're the perfect little wife?"
"Yes, you do ... and I'm so glad I can make you happy."
"You do, honey," he whispered, pulling her down onto his lap and holding her close. "You really do."
He sighed pleasantly as he felt his penis begin to throb with the heat of arousal as his cuddly daughter wiggled her soft buttocks over the large, firm bulge of his cock and balls. What could be more perfect, more genuinely an expression of love than this, he wondered? And who is to say what's wrong or right in these chaotic times? No, the young widower knew that there were no easy answers anymore, no simple solution to any problem. Lazily he let his hand begin to caress Wendy's warm inner thighs, as she began to kiss him softly on the neck.
You try to find what you need, he thought to himself, and hope to God you can get it. And when you do, you hold on. You hold on tight.
