In a recent article in Psychology Today, Arlene Skolnik wrote a scholarly article titled "Families Can Be Unhealthy For Children and Other Living Things." Some of the points she makes are approached in a more forthright, amusing manner in this lighthearted novel.
She says that "The image of a timeless, unchanging and unchangeable family unit is compelling, but it is derived from . . . wishful thinking rather than direct observation . . . Anthropologists have discovered it is more useful to treat the brother-sister unit as the basic unit of kinship systems."
In this case, it is a father-daughter relationship that dominates the family. Portrayed mostly from the viewpoint of a newly liberated wife and mother, the story unfolds in the setting of a most unusual boarding house. Miss Keyes makes her points through the gradual unfolding of repressed desires and needs.
Are there families like this, who learn to accept basic sexuality as a non-frightening and essential part of life? Probably so, as no man knows what goes on behind his neighbor's closed door. Freedom of all sorts is in the air, and sexual freedom is not being left behind. The sexual revolution of the sixties has become the sexual acceptance of the seventies.
Jean, the main character, comes to discover that life behind the rigid boundaries of Victorian repression is not enough. Her husband, Stan, learns to be a human being instead of a stereotype of the rigidly repressed and repressing husband-father figure. And their daughter, Christy, the Runaway Incest Child, finds alluring possibilities in the very same proper life that her parents have rejected.
This book is fiction, of course. None of the characters are patterned after any individual human being, any more than their friends and lovers. Yet through the medium of the novel, it is possible to express ideas that are currently in the air, even if only whispered about.
Incest is a word as taboo as leprosy was a generation ago, and perhaps - if the author is correct - it will soon become an acceptable, if not always desirable, part of the fabric of everyday life.
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
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CHAPTER ONE
Jean had two problems: her cunt itched and her head ached. Stan could have cured both of them at the same time, but no matter how she smiled or rubbed up against him, using all the wiles she'd learned in twenty some years of marriage, he ignored her. All he could think about was tits and ass - but damnit! it wasn't her ass he was worrying about.
Pressing her thighs together, squirming on the chair, she tried to shut her mind to the same tired arguments.
".. . and I still think it's the nuttiest idea I ever heard of! It's immoral, that's what it is," he concluded.
"All you think about is sex," she said. And it was true, no matter how much he talked about Christy's education and future, it was sex he was afraid of. Afraid some boy or man would get his avid lecherous hands on their precious daughter, Christy. And now, afraid that his wife - not quite as precious but still his - might find some other man's hot lips pressed on hers, some young stud's hard naked body against her full proud breasts, some - wait a minute! That was getting carried away all right! Jean would have laughed if she weren't so close to screaming.
She'd better shut those terrible thoughts right out of her mind. They were even worse than the guilty waking dreams she had sometimes, the fantasies that stimulated her fingers in her own throbbing cunt. She'd tried to overcome that need but still she dreamed about Frankie and Dino fighting over her, singing their sensual ballads and then taking her into the winner's arms. And all the time she masturbated happily. Lately she'd added Tom to her dream-life, thrilling herself with his powerful voice and frantically dancing yet controlled masculine strength.
That was different, though. Frankie and Dino and Tom, after all, weren't real people, at least not in her world they weren't. She knew that thousands of other women went to the movies or watched television, dreaming as she did of their naked flesh pressed against Frankie's hard skinny body or Tom's unashamed sensuality. But it was only a dream.
"If you have any better ideas, I'd like to hear them," she said. She'd said it before and of course Stan never came up with anything. What he'd really like would be to go there, to the big old house in the country, and order Christy home - and hear her soft voice saying obediently, "Yes, Daddy." But it was never going to happen. Christy was only sixteen and already "Yes, Daddy" was definitely a thing of the past.
They were hurt when she ran away from home but they knew they couldn't drag her back and chain her to the bedpost. Unfortunately her new independence didn't relieve her parents of the pain of caring about her. She still loved them but her new friends treated her like an adult, she said, and she didn't want to come home again to stay. She had a lot more to say on the subject but Jean never listened to the whole speech. She was too apprehensive once the word "adult" was mentioned. That was where Stan always exploded.
He never came out and said it but to him that meant only one thing: sex. The thought of his darling child's pure white body in the hands of some unwashed boys kept him pacing the floor nightly.
Worst of all from Jean's point of view, it kept him out of his wife's lonesome bed.
Trying to ignore her throbbing vagina, she went on with the tired argument. "It may be a nutty idea, but that Alexander said I could do it, stay there at the farm as long as I liked. And if you really want to know what's going on, you'll come with me."
Personally, she thought it was a brilliant idea. If Christy wouldn't come to them, they'd go to her. The farm where she boarded had plenty of room, and Alexander, the head of the household, said she was welcome.
And if the place were all Christy said it was, all whole-wheat bread and wholesome living, then he shouldn't mind her parents visiting if only for a week. And if it wasn't, if it was instead the sinful arrangement Stan suggested, then they'd find out quickly enough. She was just grateful for Christy's being under-age, so that as a final resort, they could go to the authorities. Neither one wanted that, but if nothing else worked . . .
"You'll be sorry," Stan said darkly. "When they have those sex orgies and you're in the middle of them ..."
"And what about you?" she answered tartly. "I saw you giving those sweet little girls the eye, and they weren't any older than Chris!"
"That's different," he said gruffly. "And I'm warning you, I'm telling you right now, Jean. If there's a'chance to grab a piece of that young ass, why shouldn't I? Remember, it was your own idea!"
Grab it if you can, she thought; those girls may have different ideas. Out loud she said, "Don't talk like that, Stan. It isn't nice. Those were sweet young girls."
"Ha! They know a man when they see one," he said, flashing that white arrogant male smile that had so captivated her twenty years before.
"Then you're going too?"
"Maybe ... I don't know. Better throw in some duds for me just in case."
Jean supposed she should be worried because Stan talked like that, but she knew it was all talk. She supposed most men had to dream about screwing young girls, especially when they felt their own youth slipping away. And thoughts never hurt anybody, she knew. Just as she was sure that a nice girl, brought up strict the way Chris was, would never step off the straight and narrow. Such an innocent child, she wouldn't know what it was all about!
No, Jean was very much afraid that she was the only real sinner in the family, with her early morning sessions with Frankie, Dino and Tom - and her own lewd agile fingers.
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds so that where Christina lay on the bed, her naked tanned body was striped with light and shadow. She stirred restlessly, bumping against the muscled bulging thigh of the young man who sat watching her sleep.
"Chris baby? You awake?" he whispered softly. She didn't open her eyes or answer, so he pulled the pillow from behind his back and worked a feather out of it. Leaning over the slim yet voluptuous body, he trailed the feather over one satiny full breast and then the other, smiling to himself when the rosy young nipples hardened and swelled and stood erect.
The feather moved down across the rounded plane of her belly, pausing a moment at the dimpled navel and bending as it tangled with her prominent triangle of curly golden pubic hair. Dave felt a stirring in his crotch as he caressed her satiny flesh, and looked down to smile again as his big cock swelled slightly. She could give him a hard-on even while she was asleep!
"Christy?" he said a little louder. "Naptime's over, baby, time to get up."
She stirred slowly, opening the wide blue eyes with a flutter of sooty lashes. Her face was still blurred by sleep, her rosy mouth soft and relaxed. "Dave. You were in my dreams."
"Why not? You're in all of mine," he said teasingly.
"Oh, it was lovely. Do I have to get up now?"
"Your folks will be here in half an hour. That's if they're really coming."
"Oh, rats." She sat up suddenly, a frown marring the smooth forehead. "What'll we do, Dave? I thought surely Alexander would talk them out of it, but he didn't! He positively egged them on!"
Dave reached out for a handful of her rounded breast. Gently squeezing the nipple, he fondled it lovingly. "What beautiful tits you have, Christy. Don't worry about your folks. Leave it to Alexander."
She arched her back, thrusting both the soft mounds out for his touch. For a moment she lost herself completely in the thrilling sensation as she watched his tanned strong hands moving provocatively on the glowing orbs, tweaking the tits, stroking the firm fullnesses.
But worry called her back to her problem.
"Oh, Dave - " she began again. "Living here is okay, but the - you know. What about all the fucking that goes on? What about the sensitivity sessions and the nudity? I can't see my parents going for that. And ..." her voice trailed off.
"And what?"
"You know what! You and me, that's what's going to blow their minds. God, what a scene that'll be!"
"Oh, come on, Chris," he said impatiently. "You're a big girl now. They certainly don't expect you to be living like a nun."
She shook her head. "You don't know them. They're like from a different world."
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I can see where it might be unpleasant, having scenes and all. But I'll see you through it. After all, what can they do?"
She lowered her eyes and looked guilty. "That's just it. What nobody else knows except Alexander, but now I've got to tell you. Dave, I've lied to you."
"Lied? What about?"
"About me. I'm not really nineteen. I said that because - well, because I was afraid you wouldn't take me seriously. But - rats, I hate to tell you! Dave, I've only just turned sixteen!"
"Wheeew!" Dave leaned back against the headboard, momentarily distracted from his playful fondling of her naked body. "Sixteen! And you say ol' Alexander knows that?"
"If he doesn't it's not because I haven't brought it up enough times," Christy said bitterly. "I don't know what he's playing at. I told him it would be dangerous for everybody if Mom and Pop came here."
"He usually knows what he's doing," Dave said doubtfully.
"Anybody can make a mistake, even Alexander!"
Dave's hands went back to trace their wandering course over her responsive flesh. "Whatever age you are, I don't care! You don't think they'll try and break us up, do you? Because, Chris, I don't mean to lose you, you hear? You're my girl!"
"Oh, darling, I know." With a soft moan she turned toward him, her slender hands grasping his lithe young thigh. "Nobody's going to take you away from me, or the other way around."
He reached down and brought her up into the circle of his arms. Somehow finding out her true age had been no real surprise to him. He must have secretly suspected it without letting his conscious mind be aware of it. Love and tenderness flooded his heart, knowing that she'd lied in order not to lose him.
"My own Christy," he said tenderly as they locked themselves in a tight, heated embrace. Her tits sprang up again as they rubbed against the mat of dark hair on his chest. His hands fondled the elastic round arch of her buttocks while hers crept down between their bodies and found the unready protuberance of his cock.
"Darling, darling," she moaned as she felt the slim smooth organ grow between her palms. Impulsively she bent and kissed the blood-darkened head, running her tongue lovingly over the pulsing knob. Her hands slipped underneath and gently squeezed his balls, while her hot avid mouth closed on his hardening rod. She manipulated the foreskin, finding the tiny opening and pressing her tongue against it. The acrid familiar taste sent shivers of lust over her slender frame.
Dave leaned back, fascinated by her busily moving head and hands, enjoying the lascivious excitement that slowly uncurled from the depths of his loins.
It was really more than he could stand! He turned her slightly and seized one tit, rubbing his thumb over it and squeezing until her flesh stood out in white ridges.
"Chris," he groaned, "Ohhh, Chrrisss!"
Her beauty and youth and innocent passion affected him more powerfully than anything he'd ever known before. The thought of losing her was unbearable! Their time together had been like a honeymoon and he was far from ready to have it end. He'd never wanted just one woman all to himself before - he'd been more than happy to go along with the seemingly uninhibited (though secretly controlled) sexuality as prescribed and ordained by Alexander.
But ever since he'd found Christy, he discovered a new depth to sensual pleasure, an involvement of his mind and emotions as well as his ever-ready cock. Alexander had seemingly indulged their passion, contrary to his own rules. Dave told himself all along that it couldn't last, that he wouldn't even want it to last any more than Chris would.
A lasting romance was contrary to the very foundations of their beliefs.
All the same, he wasn't ready to lose her yet! With blind determination, Dave swore to himself he'd protect Christy even from her own parents, and keep her to himself. Inflamed as much with his own thoughts as with her delicious body, he turned her up and off his knees onto the bed. He let his hand trail down her rib cage, across the rounded planes of her belly, at last reaching the moist warmth of her hair-lined vaginal slit. Rolling her tiny clit between his fingers, he felt the rubbery sensitive button swell and stand erect.
He stroked one side of the delicate organ, seeing the changes in her face as the breathtaking sensations swept through her. One of the things he loved most about her was her openness of response, her somehow innocent delight in the lascivious pleasures he could give her.
Christy too knew that this obsession with Dave was a temporary thing, but she stubbornly refused to let her mind begin to predict the future. She wanted him, and she wanted him now! No matter what her parents said or did, she told herself, there was no way they were going to separate her from his thrilling embraces. She wriggled her hips and reached up to give him little biting kisses on his shoulders. She stroked his chest, excited by its broad muscular strength, and her tongue shot out to caress the nipples that were like new copper pennies. Her pelvis undulated up toward his enticingly.
His knees between her out-stretched thighs, Dave looked down at his rigid, bobbing cock and smiled. It was swollen and hard, the dark red blood-engorged head twitching with eagerness. With a hunch of his shoulders he made the long rangy instrument jump and then settle into the moist valley between her legs.
Her lust-glazed eyes on his face, Christy waited. But just as he reached forward to separate the tender pink lips of her cunt, she frowned. "Did you hear that?" she asked huskily.
"Christy! Christina!"
"Oh, damn!" Dave said.
"Let's ignore him. Pretend we didn't hear," Christy said.
But the mellow baritone voice was clearer and louder, was obviously approaching her doorway. Dave looked down ruefully at his shrinking cock, thinking, You got the message, old boy, even before I did!
"Shit, Christy, we might as well give up. He knows we're in here."
"Christina!" Now the voice was right outside the door. "Nap time's over, dear. Your parents are here and waiting for you!"
"Okay, Alexander," she said sullenly. "Ill be right out."
Her moist young cunt ached as she scrambled out of bed and began to dress. Here her parents had just arrived and already they were spoiling things for her! Why couldn't they stay in their own world and leave hers to her? She loved them, sure, just like everybody loved their parents. But they didn't have to come screwing up her life like this!
"I still don't know what Alexander is playing at," she grumbled as she zipped up her tight jeans, and pulled the loose velvet top over her head. "He's just asking to get busted. My pop is just going to ruin everything!"
Dave kicked his feet into leather sandals. "All we can do is wait and see. And trust Alexander, I guess."
Christy ran a comb through her long, smooth, blonde hair. "I'd better go first," she said. "Make sure the coast is clear before you come out."
It was like being back in high school, she thought rebeliously. Except that then she hadn't had to sneak much because she never did anything the whole world couldn't know about. Instead she'd concentrated on her studies, with the result that she graduated at sixteen.
"But what good did it do me?" she complained.
"Huh?"
"Oh, never mind," she said. "I'll see you later, okay?" She closed the door behind her and walked from the quonset-type hut to the big old house where her friends lived.
In spite of herself, she felt love and a strange kind of pity at the sight of the two familiar figures standing in the dusty sunlight. Mom is over-dressed as usual. And Pop looks like he's aching for a fight. . . oh rats!
Why couldn't they stay in their own world, and leave me mine?
CHAPTER TWO
Jean wondered much the same thing herself, by that evening.
Not that she wasn't enjoying herself - on the contrary, she was having altogether too good a time! The trouble was she wasn't sure just where it would all end. She swayed to the music, trying to follow directions, enjoying the rhythmic sounds, the gentle exercise and the free feeling of her almost unconfined body.
Everybody else is wearing the same skimpy tunics, she told herself, so why feel conspicuous? But it was hard not to be conspicuous of her own mature body, particularly in comparison with the slim, agile, young girls and boys who dotted the room.
"Sorry," her partner said, stumbling against her.
His slight mistake did two things for Jean, both of them enjoyable. First, she felt reassured about her own rather clumsy tries at what they called "free-form dancing." It was reassuring to have her partner - his name was Jerry - demonstrate that he wasn't any more accomplished at this than she.
The other pleasure that resulted from his stumble was, she told herself, more evidence of her basically sinful nature. Because when Jerry almost fell against her, his hand first brushed against her breast, sending little ripples of tingling ecstasy over her flesh, and then came to rest on her waist.
Jean couldn't help feeling cheerful about it all, any more than she could help smiling up at Jerry as he apologized. It would, in fact, be hard for a woman not to smile at Jerry! His face was so kind and pleasant, the bulk of his big body so reassuring and comfortable!
She was rather amused, too, that Christy's new friends seemed to be so organized, all playing follow the leader. Here the child had run away from home because of parental restrictions, but she seemed to accept this new leadership without a murmur of protest. It was like a high school gym class, she thought, in spite of the erotic excitement she began to feel.
She scarcely heard Alexander's mellow voice calling out directions and explanations, but followed automatically. "Turn to the person on your right - " well, that was Jerry, and she liked the holding of hands and swaying. It was rather like being let free to play childhood games again, with the added incentive of adult knowledge. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small skeptical voice told her that she would make a fool of herself if she relaxed too much. Hearing that inner warning, she looked across the room at Stan. Instantly her moment of shame passed into history. Talk about making an ass of yourself!
His partner was a little girl who couldn't be more than eleven or twelve years old. Jean had noticed the child before, seeing that skinny little ass bouncing enticingly, almost ludicrous in its effort to ape the older girls. She was pressed up against Stan's full belly, their linked hands tight behind her thin back. And Stan was swaying, all right! With every motion he managed to push those flat tits harder against his waist.
"Never mind them," Jerry said masterfully, and turned her so that she faced him. "We're supposed to be doing this..." and he pulled her up against him. His hands let go of hers and fastened firmly around her waist, while their bodies bent back and forth, more or less together.
This was almost too much for Jean. She was totally aware of the fact that her body was completely naked under the lightweight tunic. It was cut low in front, so that her unconfined tits not only showed through the fabric but threatened to break open into the neckline. And the brief skirt barely covered the bulging rounds of her ass so that she had to force herself to stand up straight and not keep peering behind, to check whether or not her buttocks were showing.
It was fun and it was exciting, but it was also damned embarrassing! Because the erotic situation coupled with her lively imagination already had her hot and wet, so that when Jerry's hands touched her waist she trembled with sinful anticipation. Down girl, she scolded herself. If she couldn't take this first simple exercise lightly, without inflaming her fertile imagination, she'd never last out the course!
To make it worse - or better - one of Jerry's big hands moved down to cup her ass and tilt her pelvis up into his. She felt as if they were glued together! There was no way in the world she could pull back from him now!
It was all Stan's fault, really. All these years she'd made do with his form of lovemaking - if that's what you called it. Every Wednesday and Saturday evening, regular as clockwork, he tipped her a wink around suppertime and managed to pat her fanny while she washed the dishes. That was supposed to excite her, she guessed, to let her know he was ready to screw. She had practiced her patient smile until Stan didn't know the difference between anticipation and boredom. Another thing he didn't know was that his usual bam-bam-thank-you-ma'am was about as exciting as a re-run of an old Lawrence Welk show.
But at least it was something, better than the nothing she'd gotten lately. Ever since Christy ran away from home, Stan was too preoccupied with worry to keep up his barely adequate lovemaking. It was almost as if - Jean struggled to complete the thought - as if by giving up sex himself, he was proving something to his daughter. Who, of course, neither knew nor cared.
"Jean! Come back here!"
She looked at Jerry and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, guess I was daydreaming."
One good thing, with her mind drifting away like that, her hungry cunt had subsided a bit, and she no longer felt on the verge of an uncontrollable orgasm. On the other hand, her whole body was hot and dry, feverishly aware of the big, good-looking man who held her so tightly.
Jean was no Twiggy. In fact, her figure was clearly womanly, almost buxom. But despite the breadth of her ass, Jerry's hand was so big he could almost contain the swelling rounds. He hiked her up farther, and his middle finger slipped into the narrow, damp crease, rucking up the tunic at the same time.
She knew her ass was exposed to the roomful of people - moreover, exposed with that long finger plainly visible, penetrating almost to her asshole! But Jerry anticipated her jerk away from him. His other hand pressed her head into his chest so all she could see or breathe was coarse blue cotton and the scent of his sweaty, masculine flesh. "Hold still," he breathed into her ear, "everybody else is doing the same thing."
You couldn't prove it by Jean. Her head was caught against his chest, and further confined by his chin and shoulder.
She could hardly breathe! "Jerry, don't!" she protested, but he held her as if in a vise, bis only movement being to shove his knee forward to separate her thighs.
"You're doing fine," he said. "Now hush and listen to Alexander!"
Between her pounding senses and the muffling effect of his embrace, Jean couldn't get it all. The leader's mellow strong voice bounced off her consciousness, only penetrating now and then. She was more concerned with her mingled shame and sensual excitement, and with wondering how she looked to the rest of the group.
". . . so we must surrender to our bodies in order to conquer them . . . lose ourselves in order to gain the heightened spirituality. ..."
What she heard of it made sense in a way. Its rhythms and intonations followed those of more orthodox creeds, even if the meanings were startlingly different. But Jean began to move uneasily, the suspicion that she was making an ass of herself (some pun, she thought) growing steadily stronger. After all, this was her first evening in the strange setting. Alexander did have a hypnotic quality to his voice that combined with her own basic physical needs to lull her mind temporarily. The only thing was, the little voice in the back of her skull kept saying such sensible, knowing things.
"... give in order to receive. ..."
"Get your hand out of my ass," she hissed, and was relieved to feel that exciting pressure removed.
".. . purge the body and free the soul. ..."
Jerry began to kiss the top of her head, even biting the small curls that straggled loose from her bouffant hair-do. His tongue licked her forehead and then he kissed her closed eyelids. Both his hands cupped her buttocks, though without embarrassing inner contact.
"... warm as the waters of life, life that must be shared to be of value to you. ..."
Jean had heard of sensitivity training and group therapy, and read several articles in newspapers and magazines. According to Stan it was all a lot of crap, but she'd always secretly wondered and wished she could find out. That was the only reason, naturally, that she was going along with all this nonsense. Touching other people should be a warm, friendly experience, a way of admitting to a common humanity, a true spiritual experience. Obviously she had a long way to go, since the same events that exalted others only made her poor neglected cunt wet and hungry.
"This way," Jerry said, leading her toward the far end of the room. Other couples, still clasping each other, filed in front and behind them. Stan still had that obnoxious little girl in an iron-handed grip-Once through the wide doorway, each couple headed off for a separate destination. Another of the pre-teeners popped up beside Jean and Jerry. Her brief tunic was white silk that clung to the almost-shapeless figure. "I'm supposed to help you," she said. "Come on this way."
She led them into a small room and closed the door behind her. Steam rose in billowing clouds, warm and damp, hiding even the shape and dimensions of the room. Peering through the mist, Jean made out a small pool almost at her feet. The water had to be really hot, for steam to hide the corners of the room like that.
"My name's Tina and I'm supposed to show you how to use the bath. It's like a Japanese bath, I mean you soap and rinse first. That means your pores are open and you'll get the most out of the tub . . ." While she talked, the little girl briskly pulled Jean's tunic off and smacked a lather-filled sponge against her shoulder.
The sudsing felt good even though it was embarrassing too, feeling those somehow cool fingers along with the thick lather on her skin. The steamy air was aromatic, heavily scented with an elusive yet satisfying perfume. Jean breathed deeply, enjoying the purely physical pleasure. At the same time she was grateful for the obscuring misty clouds that gave her a certain amount of privacy. She could barely see Jerry, but he seemed to be soaping himself and rinsing with a bucket. "There now . .."
A deluge of warm water swamped over Jean's head, drenching her hair-do along with the rest of her. Coughing and sputtering, she rubbed her fingers across her eyes and nose. Well, that was one way to get the soap off! Still half-blinded, she let the little girl lead her down shallow steps into the warm, languorous water.
Her mind, so busy taking in new sensations, had tricked her after all! She'd more or less shut it off during the last ten or fifteen minutes, not really wanting to know what would happen once she was tit-deep in the hot pool and alone with a strange man. Because, of course - and hadn't she known it all along? - that youngster Tina was in the room only long enough to see that she soaped and rinsed its occupants. "Warm as the waters of life, life that must be shared ..." Hadn't she heard enough of Alexander's flowery statements to guess exactly what he was saying? Of course she had!
Guilt certainly shoved into her mind but it never had a chance. Because there was Jerry, smiling soapily, so tall that his hair was crowned with wreaths of steam. He dunked his head to get rid of the last traces of lather and then, coming up, grabbed Jean by the knees and brought them up with him. So, of course, to keep her head above water, she had to hold onto his slippery, wet shoulders. He backed up until she could reach behind her and grab the coping. Holding the ledge, her body supported now by Jerry's hands at the ankles, she floated just below the surface of the water. It was comfortable to feel the buoyancy of the water supporting her, and she bobbed up and down slowly, watching her unaroused tits break the surface and then sink into wavering images.
"Stan would kill me," she said.
Jerry shook his head. "What do you think Stan's doing at this very moment? Don't be silly, Jean."
She thought about that for a while. The heated water sapped her strength as well as her will power, and she had a hard time working up a sense of shame. "If he's with a girl," she said consideringly, "no matter what I'm doing, he's going to feel guilty as hell."
"I don't see why."
It was all suddenly clear to her. "Because the girl's so young, that's why. He's no - no child-molester!"
"Hagghhh!" Jerry choked on his own laughter. "I'd like to see anybody molest that so-called child! It's more likely the other way around!"
"Even so. He's going to get it mixed up with this - this thing he has for Christy. And he's going to feel guilty."
"Maybe you're right. . . but all the easier for you, isn't it?"
The water swirled up from below in a hot froth of bubbles. No matter how unlikely, even insane, this nude conversation in a bathtub, Jean had never felt more relaxed in her life. Whether the splendid floaty feeling was the result of the sensitivity exercises, the well-known benefits of hot water, or simply her long repression was at the moment unimportant. Damnit, she liked Jerry, even though they'd just met. And while she hadn't set out for sexual adventuring - far from it! - all of a sudden she knew that if it happened she wouldn't object.
But he seemed content to stand there, shifting against the pull of the water, holding up her ankles and ridiculously continuing this rather intimate conversation.
"Is this - is what we're doing routine here?" She was shy about asking; after all, he hadn't made any real move toward sex yet, and she began to wonder if he would. But others, surely, nude and alone together, would accept the opportunity. Certainly Stan would!
"Ummm yes, more or less." Jerry began to walk forward, shifting his grip from her ankles to her knees to her thighs. In a moment he was so close that the tips of her nipples were brushing his naked chest.
Jean wanted to move away, break the spell of his eyes on hers, but she couldn't. Instead she gripped the coping harder and closed her eyes. Her mouth fell open a little and she began to pant.
He changed again t� bring his hands under her ass and lower it slightly into the water. She hung there, unable to move, impaled by lust as a captured butterfly is by a pin. Something warm and smooth and thick brushed against the muff of her crotch, pushing hard at the meaty lips of her cunt. Her eyes flew open and she saw the hard cudgel that poked between the hair-lined lips. The eddying water rushed away from their bodies with the force of his drive.
"Ohhhh, nooo! NOOO!" She'd known it was going to happen but still it was a surprise. Startled, she lost her grip on the edge of the pool and saved herself a dunking only by grabbing on his shoulders again. Her movement combined with his forward push drove his hard cock another inch inside her. Her cunt burned with fire and dripped its thick lubricating juices, so thick the water turned cloudy in the bare inch or so between their bodies. She could see that thing sticking out of her pussy, its shaft velvet soft yet hard as iron.
"Oh, you darling," Jerry whispered huskily. He kissed her on the mouth, his tongue pushing between her parted lips, even while he hoisted her up further. Her voracious sex-sleeve swallowed the last of his organ and closed around it, her cunt-lips fluttering softly.
Jean clasped her hands together behind his neck and hung suspended, party buoyed up by the water. Their crotches met with slurping noises as a small vacuum was momentarily created. The sensation of having his hot meat inside her was intensified almost unbearably by the heated water that slipped in too. He flicked his hips, and she groaned out loud. She'd thought it was all inside her, but there! That was his cock hitting bottom!
His big hands cupped her ass and bounced her up and down against him. The base of his belly scraped against her clit in an agonizingly delightful way. Their crotches smacked hard together and Jean began to tighten the grip of her knees on his waist. Her ankles locked behind him and she pushed hard. She scarcely knew what was happening and pure instinct had taken over her befuddled brain. Nobody but Stan had touched her since their marriage . . . this was shocking, wrong - but -
She thought briefly: this is what it could be like!
And that's what it was like when seconds later, her cum galvanized her into furious bucking and wild wordless moaning. She clamped herself tight against him, her open vagina plastered on his willing groin. The twitches began in her buttocks and then spread outward, like ripples when a stone is thrown in still water. Her head pushed blindly into the hollow of his neck and her mouth fastened on his collarbone like a leech, sucking and taking little nipping bites.
"OHHHhhhh," she moaned on a descending scale. Her mouth was dry and her heart pounded heavily.
He held her through it all, still moving his hips so the fat cock kept up its fucking action, kissing her every place that her frenzy presented to him.
Before she's completely recovered, she heard him whisper "Now!" in a guttural tone. Then he fucked into her newly lubricated cunt with increasing vigor, pounding like a triphammer, until his balls shot their hot white load of sticky man cum into her quivering vagina. "Hah! HAHHH!" he shouted like a karate champion ready to attack.
His copious semen overflowed and clouded the water, and Jean was sure she could smell its particular scent rising from the steamy surface. She felt completely relaxed, contented, ashamed of herself and happy. She'd feel terrible later, she told herself drowsily, but at the moment. . . well, what could she say?
"Wasn't that wonderful?" He kissed her cheek. "Come on now, out you go."
"Do we have to?" More than the sleepy comfort of the water, Jean felt that it absolved her of what obviously was her sin.
She stumbled out with his help and he stretched her out on a thick towel, the water streaming from her naked white body. Almost with indifference Jean looked down at her own nudity. Breasts still good, only sagging a little. Tits rather large even when flat. Her belly bulged but after all, she'd given birth! And it really wasn't bad at all, particularly when she was on her back like this. Stan kidded her about all the exercises she did to the morning television - thank goodness she hadn't listened to him and let herself go! She could have been a real slob instead of this rather interesting, mature yet firm female!
"Was that good, baby?" he said. "Was it okay?"
"Oh, yesss! But I feel - really, Jerry, I ought to feel terrible instead of so fantastically happy. I don't even - "
"Don't even what?"
"I don't even know your last name!" she blurted out.
He laughed, and she thought she'd never seen a kinder, more considerate face. His features were strong and even, his wide forehead and firm chin promising poise and intelligence. He must be around forty, she guessed, seeing the trace of gray in the lustrous brown crest of his hair. He wore sideburns and his hair crept down the nape of his neck in a way she liked.
"What are you doing here," it suddenly occurred to her to ask. "Are you a visitor like us?"
"Oh, no! I live here. I rent a room from Alexander."
"It's like an old-fashioned boarding house, isn't it? Although the things that happen here ... I really don't understand what it's all about." -
He took a wet breast in each hand, squeezing them lightly. "That's because it's all new to you, you don't know what we're all about yet."
"Yes." She felt she had all the information she could handle at the moment. "What happens now? Are we supposed to be some place else, or what?"
"Whatever you want to have happen," he said, looking into her pale blue eyes. "But I don't mind admitting, I have a few suggestions. If you don't mind____"
CHAPTER THREE
It was not that Jean approved of what she was doing - no, indeed! It was immoral, sinful, dangerous in terms of her marriage, unfair to Stan and certainly not what she came to visit Christy for. Women her age should have gotten over these hot yearnings and desires, especially women with husbands and sweet daughters. No matter what the temptation, she should have resisted.
However, since she'd already done it once, one more time shouldn't hurt.
"You mustn't be shy," Jerry murmured.
Jean didn't think she'd been shy, but when she shook her head hastily, he misunderstood.
"You're so beautiful," he said. "I want to show you something."
Jean couldn't have said no to anything he suggested, particularly since he was so very kind and gentle. He knelt in front of her and raised her legs, putting her calves over his shoulders. Her cunt was then directly in his view, and she felt it spread wide, the elastic wet lips opening with a soft smacking sound. Jean closed her eyes. She couldn't watch him watch her!
"Now, now," he chided her. "Look at me - " He reached over one shoulder to a dressing table against the wall. "Here, look now," he said. Her eyes flew open and she saw he was holding a mirror there, between her wide-spread thighs.
It had never occurred to Jean to look at herself, but since he suggested it, she found herself fascinated. The outer lips were shiny and coated with his jism, as were all the hairs that curled around them. It hadn't all floated away in the sudsy water! The congestion from her cum left a tracery of red veins in the shiny pink of her vagina. The dark triangle that marked the opening to her cunt still fluttered, the inner lips moving voluntarily in spasm. Jean watched and deliberately clenched those small muscles, seeing the clutching response mirrored.
While she stared, he put his middle finger in that opening and her pussy seemed to engulf it hungrily. Jean smiled, she couldn't help it. It might be obscene but it was fascinating.
"Your pussy is really beautiful," Jerry said. "It's no wonder I want to eat it."
A shiver ran over Jean's bare flesh. This was really bad! She knew vaguely what he meant and the very though't of it made her blush. At the same time she felt a definite stirring of excitement in her groin.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Ooohhhh ... I don't-I don't know!"
He smiled at her confidently. "Trust me, Jean . . . You'll find you've never been so happy before."
"It's not. . . nice!"
"Nonsense! That husband of yours has you brain-washed."
The mention of Stan sent a pang of guilt through her, but she shoved it down again. No doubt he was up to no good at this very minute, and with children as young as eleven or twelve! Besides - she had to admit it to herself - as long as she'd gone this far, she meant to go all the way, see it through. It might be the one and only chance in her life to experience the ultimate in sexuality, and damned if she'd miss it!
Instead of answering, she leaned forward and put her hand on his strong shoulder, and smiled at him. Jerry responded as if he were electrified! His arms went around her, holding her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. She arched her back and pressed against him, feeling her tits swell as they brushed against his chest. She wanted him so much! And everything he said and did tended to reassure her, to make her conscious of his gentle consideration. He never came at her the way Stan did, like a bull cutting his cow out of the herd, or like a dog attacking his bitch. What she was doing might be wrong, but she had to go ahead and try it all!
"Don't be shy," he said again. "Do whatever you want, be whatever you want. It'll always be our secret, just between us!"
Thus encouraged, she knew perfectly well what she wanted. Reaching her hand between their bodies, she found the heavy muscled hardness of his thigh, and then his crotch. For a moment she panicked, but her courage came flooding back with the feel of his swollen cock. Her mouth watered as she thought of possessing that thick cudgel again! She wanted it in her mouth, in her cunt, even in her asshole. She wanted to do everything, feel everything, thrill to every lascivious move and position!
"Darling," she said in a choked voice. "Oh, darling!"
He seemed to understand that was all she could say, and he bent hungrily, kissing and sucking her rosy tits.
Jerry found an emotion much like love welling up in his heart. True, he had begun with every intention of seducing this middle-aged female, and had been assigned to the task, actually, by
Alexander. But there was nothing impersonal or routine about the events as they occurred. He really was fascinated with her lush and yet almost unused body. And he found himself equally involved emotionally, sensing her basic honesty and her true value as a person aside from being Christy's mother.
He'd never dreamed she'd be so beautiful and exciting, the very epitome of ripe maturity - all lush, sensual perfect womanhood!
"I've got to kiss you . . . there! I want your delicious pussy, Jean!"
With a groan he buried his face between her legs, feeling the soft tangle of hair and the throbbing of her cunt-lips. His tongue shot out and ran its hot slick edge through her crease, nibbling and tasting at the tender hair-lined folds. They were closed protectively around the small damp opening, and he stabbed with his tongue until he could feel arid taste the delicate inner lips and their moist sweetness.
"I want you too," Jean said, boldly yet tremulously.
He shifted his hips and the lust-hardened penis jutted out before her eyes, the bulbous head dark red with one glistening drop of semen poised on the tip. He looked down proudly while Jean gasped and reached for the enticing instrument. She moved her body, almost without thinking, so there was room for him to squat over her, a knee on each side of her neck.
Jean held the smooth hard length of it in her slender white hands, and licked it avidly, feeling the burning heat against her wet tongue. She cupped his balls in one hand and squeezed them gently, while her tongue traced lascivious wet circles down the length and across the smoothness of the shaft. Her mouth dripped saliva as she sucked avidly, finally drawing the swollen head into the warm wet cavity of her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked half the length of his prick in one big gulp.
She could hardly believe all this was happening. If this is a dream, she told herself, one of my special dreams, then I hope I never wake up! She could feel the swelling in his hairy bails as she held them clenched in her fingers, and a new fear struck her. She didn't want him to cum yet - they'd hardly begun this new round of pleasure! And her own pussy was throbbing with desire even while her contorted face betrayed its delight in her avid sucking. Her ovaled red mouth slowly released his deliciously tasty cock, letting it slide slowly and wetly over her tongue.
"What is it, sweet?" Jerry asked anxiously.
"I don't - I don't want you to cum yet," she said.
"I won't. Just suck it - a minute more!"
"I will ... if you promise."
"You bet!" He grinned at her. "Then you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to eat you - like you've never been eaten before!" He halfway suspected that the "before" was unnecessary and yet his own life had been so very different, he was unable to relate completely to her a woman of her age with such very little sexual experience. But he was completely pleased and rewarded by the half-startled look on her face and her sudden blush. It made him all the more avid, all the more determined to get his whole face - mouth and nose and tongue and chin - into that hot wet pussy. He felt that his own pleasure would be more than doubled by the thrills he was giving her, virgin thrills!
Jean licked the underside of his long rangy instrument, relishing the taste of his semen where it oozed out. She sucked in the cockhead once more, wetly trapping the head and with her tongue dabbing at the tiny receptive glans. Her mouth and throat were full of it, crammed jammed full so she could hardly swallow the saliva that rose in her wildly working gullet.
Surprised at his own reaction, Jerry knew it was time to quit! In one way he wanted to have her blow him, to cum in her mouth and hold her so she'd have to swallow every last drop of his hot sticky sperm. He longed to feel the rush of rolling liquid shoot into her pretty mouth and foam whitely over her lips!
But the time wasn't yet. With slow reluctance, he pulled his lust-gorged cock from her sucking red mouth.
"Promise you won't be shocked?' he said.
She smiled at him. "About what?"
"I want you to . . . will you sit on my face, Jean? Let me eat you good?"
They scrambled awkwardly apart and he lay down on the towel, moving it closer to the wall. She poised herself above him, seeing the slopes of her own breasts and tits, and the gentle curve of her belly over his strong tanned face. She found - was not surprised to find - a small ledge on the wall she could cling to for balance; he had obviously thought this out. Her knees were on either side of his head and she slowly lowered her body so that her steaming crotch was on his face.
She had no idea what would happen next, but he grasped her around the hips and his tongue shot out, licking her slowly and lovingly from the hairy mound at the base of her belly, back through the dripping crease up into the valley between her buttocks. The heady taste and powerful scent of her sex drove him wild! He pulled her down strongly so that his nose was all the way inside her slippery cunt and his forehead pressed against her pelvic bones. His lewd, wildly working tongue pushed and probed, while his teeth nibbled excitingly around the erect bud of her clitoris.
One ecstatic thrill after another shot through her! He seared the soft clinging flesh of her cunt with his mobile strong tongue and mouth. She clung to the narrow ledge, bounding up and down softly, feeling him fuck her with his tongue and nose. She was hotter than she'd ever been before in her life! She moved her lips in tight little circles, butting her clit up on his nose, completely out of control.
"Oh, God, God!" she moaned. "It's so wonderful . . . don't stop, don't ever stop!"
Completely lost in her physical sensations, every inch of flesh and every small ending in her body was aroused and electrified. She was going to cum in his mouth, she knew it! She writhed and wriggled, feeling the mounting tension as if it were a high ladder she had to climb. She used her strong inner muscles and contracted them furiously, trying to force out the orgasm that was almost ready to explode. Her clit fluttered and ached passionately and she moved her ass back and forward to rub the little excitable organ over his mouth and nose.
"I'll never cum! I'll never - " she panted and moaned, knowing it wouldn't happen. Working harder, writhing desperately, she felt her insides knot up into one fantastic bundle of desire. And finally, as she groaned deep and wordlessly, her vaginal lips began to flutter and her orgasmic fluid spewed into his open mouth.
"Aarrgghhh!" she panted, as his fingers dug into her hips and he moved her constantly up and down against his fucking tongue.
Jerry was startled at the depth of emotion he felt when he experienced the sensations of her cum, the fluttering cunt-lips against his tongue, the deep wrenching spasm that twisted her body. Almost out of his head with lust, he shifted her body so that his mouth could reach the small brown hole between her buttocks. His nose pressed up into her rear crease. His tongue licked and probed her asshole as she wriggled and moaned over him. Fuck, it isn't enough, he thought. Nothing was enough! He'd like to eat her completely, swallow her piece by delicious piece in an orgy of cannibalistic desire! Tears stood in his eyes as she bucked up against her asshole, his nostrils full of the compelling scent of her, his hands and face deep in her ecstatic flesh.
Jerry had been fortunate enough - he thought it was his good fortune - to be born into a sexually liberated family so that he could never completely understand those who grew up repressed. But Jean's lack of fulfillment and a certain virginal quality about her was so appealing he felt his heart overflow with emotion.
"You darling," he groaned, "come on down here. I've got to fuck you - right now!"
His swollen cock jutted up at right angles to his body, looking almost painful in its hugeness. While Jean reached down to separate the inner lips of her cunt, he slid her down the mighty pole until she sat firmly against the base of his belly.
"How's that?" she said, smiling at him. Secretly she glowed and exulted at the look of his face and the unmistakable evidence of her cum.
Putting his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her slightly. Looking down the length of his own body, he could see his hard smooth prick sliding in and out, pulling the tender flesh in and out with it. He loved every sight and smell and feel of it, even her weight on his groin and particularly the pressure on his full balls. He slid her back and forth and Jean leaned forward, into his stroke, feeling pressure on her ass as well as her clit.
"Look, look down now," he urged.
Totally under his spell, she looked, seeing as he had the smooth lust-swollen cock appearing and disappearing into the moist flanges of her cunt. "Yes, oh yes," she whispered, not really knowing what she meant by it.
And then Jerry knew he couldn't wait, not one instant longer. He pulled her forward on his chest and began to buck up and down, jouncing her on top of him, gradually stepping up the rhythm into a hard, driving beat. His cock slid in and out like an oiled piston, their bodies smacking wetly when they met. He clenched the muscles in his ass, sending her smartly up and catching her widespread groin on the downstroke.
He knew he would be cumming any moment as his supercharged balls threatened to shoot out their hot load. He pulled her on his chest and kissed her slack red mouth, feeling the moment of supreme happiness. Shouting wordlessly, his ass shot high and his laboring prick jetted the scalding sperm deep into her velvety depths.
"Haggghhh! Hoooo!" he snorted as his overloaded system blew all his circuits. Dimly he realized she was cumming again too, and he clung to her with all his strength. They rolled together helplessly until their spasming muscles gradually slowed.
"Lordy," she whispered, "I can't believe all this is happening to me!"
"You don't like it?" he teased.
"You know better than that..." Her brain began to work again, if feebly and unwillingly. "How long have we been in here anyway, Jerry? Won't they miss us? I mean - "
"I know what you mean, but you mustn't worry," he said tenderly. "Nobody will know about this - that is, your Stan won't know - unless you yourself tell him."
"But what about Christy?" She rose in a sudden panic. "My God, what'll my little girl think?"
"Trust me," he pleaded. "It'll all be all right."
She had to be satisfied with that, but her reawakened conscience began to bother her. They washed and rinsed again, and plunged briefly into the pool. Jerry realized her feelings and considerately helped her towel and dress.
It suddenly seemed to Jean impossible that she could have spent an hour - two hours? - making love to this stranger, when all the time her precious Christy must be hovering somewhere outside the steamy room. Stan was all right; Stan she could handle. The actual truth was, she realized, that she didn't care that much about what Stan did or said. Jerry had at least shown her a side of life and her own nature that she'd always suspected existed. She wasn't too surprised that she'd let herself go like that when the opportunity presented itself.
What did rather surprise her was that she was completely indifferent to anything Stan might think.
But Christy, that was a different story.
Combing her hair in front of a steamy mirror, she realized that she did care very much indeed about what Christy thought, and that knowledge made her tremble inwardly.
"Where's Christy been all this time?" she demanded. "I've only seen her a few minutes since we got here."
"Please don't get upset," Jerry said. "Christina has her own way to go just like everybody else here. She knew you were to attend the sensitivity sessions. You'll see her practically right away, if you want. Unless, of course ..."
"Unless what?"
"Aren't you the least bit curious about your Stan? Don't you want to know what he's been up to?"
"Well, yes, of course I do! There's lots of things I want to know." Logic and understanding came flooding back into her mind. "This place isn't what Alexander said it was, at all! This was a planned thing, wasn't it? I mean you and me. Damnit, Stan was right all along!"
For herself, Jean didn't care. As a matter of fact, it was more like a positive pleasure than not caring. She had to tell the truth, if only to herself.
But the implications of what she was learning led directly to fears for her daughter. Jean began to have a terrible intuition, one that made her turn white and look at Jerry with desperate eyes.
"What about Christy?." she said. "What about my daughter?"
CHAPTER FOUR
The girl's name was Karen and she was twelve years old.
Stan looked at her and knew that if he weren't an intelligent adult with a young daughter of his own, he'd be thinking what a hot little piece she was. Or could be, given the proper stimulus. No doubt all the young boys around here were after her, sniffing at her skirts like dogs after a bitch in heat. But he was perfectly confident, looking at the innocent face and undeveloped figure, that she hadn't fallen for their horny advances.
Karen was slender, short; obviously she still had a lot of growing to do. Her heart-shaped face was rosy with sunburn on top of an earlier tan, and it accentuated the brown sparkle of her eyes. She must have combed her hair hurriedly, because it lay in a tangled cloud, auburn in the shadows and golden where the light struck it. Her body was a perfect little miniature with sloping shoulders, high hard breasts like little half-lemons on her taut ribcage, impossibly small waist. She didn't have any ass at all that he could see, but her tummy still rounded slightly in little-girl fashion. A few more pounds, another inch on her hips, and then she'd lose that boyish look. But there was a frightening appeal for him in the very immaturity of her body.
Christy had looked like that at twelve, half child and half growing girl.
He remembered all too clearly the shock her budding sexuality had given him, and the painful impossible longing he'd felt when he realized that his tomboy child was becoming a woman. When Christy was twelve, she still perched on his lap now and then and confided her pubescent dreams to him. He remembered sitting absolutely still in his big armchair, her weight light as a butterfly's on his knees and yet somehow also grown so very heavy that he was weighted and immobilized by her.
His eyes grew soft as he looked down at the young Karen. She was so serious, so involved in all this mishmash that she'd learned from Alexander: Stan knew all this talk about "relating" and "spirituality" was a lot of crap. He'd put up with it now, and not hurt Karen's feelings by making fun of the whole scene. But he knew sooner or later he'd have to take this child aside and set her straight, tell her what life was really all about.
He shot a quick glance across the big gymnasium-like room and saw that his old lady was still carrying on with that big fellow, that Jerry. He'd set Jean straight pretty soon too, and not in any gentle fatherly way. She was old enough to know better! The way she hung onto that guy, rubbing her tits up against him, was a total disgrace. Nice women didn't act like that! If it weren't for upsetting this dear little Karen, he'd go right over there now and grab Jean, and teach her a lesson she wouldn't forget in a hurry!
He was tempted to do it anyway, but just in time he remembered Christina. She wouldn't like that at all! She'd made him promise to "be good" just an hour ago, whatever that meant. Well, he knew what it meant in a way. She wouldn't be happy about any scenes, particularly with her mother. Her blue eyes would flash and her sweet little breasts heave up and down while she scolded him. That was all right, he rather enjoyed being chewed out by that little bit of a girl. He could look at her and remember changing her diapers, and taking over the two a.m. feeding when she was only a scrap of pink flesh.
All the same, he didn't want to cross her now. His deepest and most secret fear was some day she'd get really angry at him. Out of her anger she might do something - he didn't even want to specify what that "something" might be. He would only admit to himself that she might turn from him, her own father, to one of those dirty boys who were always hanging around, trying to corrupt her virginal purity.
No, he'd go along with the system for the moment. But you could bet he'd keep his eyes and ears open. Nobody was putting anything over on ol' Stan!
"Stan! You're not paying attention!"
"Oh, sorry."
"You're supposed to take my hands and - like this!"
She put her soft little fingers in his big calloused hands, and brought them around behind her back. Somehow that brought her up close to him, so close that he could feel her immature tits pressing just above his beltline. Not that there was any belt on this ridiculous tunic, but where his belt would ordinarily be.
It felt good, cozy and comfortable, and he relaxed. After all, he was a grown man, a father, and Karen was just a child. He looked down at her, liking the way she got so serious about all this nonsense, biting her lip and letting her little pink tongue show between her glistening teeth. She really liked him, he could tell. And he couldn't help but be flattered by her big eyes fixed on his.
The way she was leaning close to him, he could see right down the front of her loose tunic. Her breasts were just as high and hard and perfect as he'd suspected, crowned with adorable little pink buds. Even the curve of her neck and shoulders was delicious and made his breath come raggedly. She wiggled a bit closer and that finally did it. He had a hard-on as big as his wrist, and it poked embarrassingly out under the thin cloth. He knew it had to be touching her, she had to be aware of it. He might have pulled away then except she smiled at him, and pushed her little pouchy belly right against his growing cock!
Damn, that was too much! When he got out of here and was through with correcting Jean, he was going to have to fuck her so many times she'd think she'd been gang-raped! It would serve her right for getting him here with his hard-on and his twelve-year-old partner!
"It's so wonderful that you came here," Karen said softly. "I just know we're going to have a wonderful time together!"
Shit! That was almost more than a man could stand! He put his arms around her more tightly, and leaned down. He could hardly hear her little voice while Alexander was giving his mellifluous instructions. He felt as if his body was glued to hers and his cock was getting its secret satisfaction from the tight embrace, which Karen didn't seem to mind at all.
"Listen, Karen, this is - you're just a little girl!"
"Oh, Stan," she pouted, "don't be so serious. This is supposed to be fun!"
"I know, but-"
"And quit looking at Jean! You see her every day of your life. And now you're with me!"
And he certainly was! Slightly dazed by his emotions, he realized that all the couples in the room were heading out a doorway. Then he remembered Alexander had said something about hot baths. Shit, he'd taken a shower just last night! Besides, it would mean being separated from Karen and he knew suddenly, strongly, he didn't want that.
"Do we have to take a bath?"
"Noooo . . . though I think you'd dig it. But if you don't want to - why don't we try something else?"
"Okay, just lead on!"
They walked through the same doorway together, with Karen holding his hand, her slender body pressed against -him. She began to giggle. "Alexander'll be mad, but - "
"Who cares?"
"Okay, then. Come on, down this hallway. I know something that's even more fun, though bathing together can be groovy too."
"Bathing - together?"
"Sure, weren't you listening? I'm supposed to soap you down and rinse you, all that Japanese stuff. Then we get in the hot water and . . ."
His breathing got suddenly difficult. "And what?"
"Soak! Or whatever else we want!" Karen giggled. "There's other games though if you don't like hot baths. Come on!"
So he'd made a mistake! The thought of having her slender young hands soaping his big hairy body made him want to cry with frustration, but it was already too late. She was leading him into a room, a small dimly lighted space that seemed to be all cushions and draperies. An odd smell hung in the air, tantalizing his nostrils. It was a completely new scent to him, but he liked it.
After his vision adjusted to the dim light, he could see that walls and ceilings were draped with India prints, and the only furniture was a low square table in the middle of the room. Big colorful cushions circled it and lined the walls and corners. Karen sank gracefully onto a cushion and, because she was still holding his hand in a tight sticky grip, he went down too.
"Do you smoke?" she said, looking up at him with her innocent brown eyes.
"Why sure, cigars mostly."
Karen giggled. "Well, we don't have cigars here. But we do have something better."
She picked up a carved wooden box from the table and opened it, taking out a slim hand-rolled cigarette. Stan felt shock run through him like an electric charge. It all came together in his mind; he made connections between seemingly unrelated events and groaned aloud with his new knowledge. Group games. Free and easy sexuality. Young people who laughed a lot and seemed to be happy. Drugs!
When Karen began to light the cigarette he stopped her. "Karen! That's - is that Marijuana?"
"Oh, Stan, of course it is!" Laughing, she turned to him and put her tiny hands on his shoulders. "You'll love it! Now kiss me, you old silly!"
After all he wasn't made of iron. He put his arms around the slim almost-naked shoulders and held her tight, rocking back and forth with the strength of his emotion. When he had a tiny bit of control he leaned down to the piquant, heart-shaped face. Gently, carefully, he kissed the sweet tender mouth that was waiting for him. He told himself that he was contented with her incredible softness and delicious taste, happy just to hold her close and let his hands explore the delicate contours of her throat and shoulders. I've got it under control, he told himself. And besides, I'm keeping her from using that dirty drug!
She sighed and opened her mouth so his tongue was drawn in it without conscious intent. He licked the soft surface of her mouth, his tongue exploring every tiny surface and crevice. He nuzzled and nipped at her upper lip, sucking the corners of it.
By the time she pulled away, he knew he was lost. It was a sinful thing he was doing, making love to this child, but could he help it if she threw herself into his arms?
He sat there paralyzed while she daintily lighted the thin rolled tube. The smoke that drifted out had the same delightful scent he'd noticed in the room. This was a drug den, no doubt about it!
"Come on, Stan," she coaxed. "Take just a taste! It won't hurt you."
Reluctant yet fascinated, he let her put the cigarette to his mouth. It did taste good, he had to admit. And secretly he'd always wondered what it was like.
"Suck in air with it," she said. "Like this - " She inhaled deeply, her cheeks growing red as she held the smoke in and swallowed it.
Stan copied her. It tasted good but was happening to him. "It doesn't do anything."
Karen giggled. "What'd you expect, an instant rush? Just wait a while ..."
They finished the cigarette - she called it a joint and a number - and Stan relished the intimacy of sharing it with her. He kept examining his mind and body, waiting for something to happen but all he felt was a delightful relaxation, a warm happiness that increased as she snuggled closer.
He had to kiss her again, to taste the soft warm cheeks and firm little mouth. He licked her little ears and slipped his tonguetip inside, circling wetly round and round. He discovered how sensitive they were because her hands crept up to rub the nape of his neck and caress the top of his spine. She leaned on him for balance and he could feel her hard little girl tits pressing on him.
Of course she couldn't know it, a mere child like this, but she was driving him crazy! Why hadn't Jean ever done that, stroked his neck and shoulders in that inexpressibly erotic way? His hard-on had died somewhat while they smoked, but his cock once more lunged out to press against her hip.
He thought that might frighten her but every sigh, every movement expressed nothing but trust and happiness. Oh shit, how he'd like to grab her and throw her down on this thick carpet, and put his hot horny prick into that sweet little kid's pussy and - but no! She was just a child! He hadn't even done that with Christy and he truly loved her, so how would he feel if - ?
Stan brought his thoughts back with a jerk. For a minute he'd imagined the unimaginable, thinking that Karen was Christy and - frightening to remember - he'd been about to fuck her!
Karen shivered happily in his embrace and held her mouth up for more kisses. Stan groaned. The leash he was holding on himself was strained to the utmost and in spite of his will power, he could hardly keep his hands from cupping those high hard tits. He knew it would serve her right for leaving herself so vulnerable, so unguarded - and with a complete stranger. But he wasn't a child, it was up to him to do the right thing.
For a while he thought that kissing would be enough for him, but the blood pounded insistently in his temples and - whether he liked it or not - in his cock. Feeling his strength leave him, he thrust her away.
"Older men are so neat," Karen said dreamily. "You really make love, Stan, instead of just fucking."
Naturally he must, have misunderstood.
"Kissing and making out is such fun! It makes the whole thing last longer, doesn't it? You're really going to be a super-neat lover, Stan."
"You're only a little child," he groaned.
Karen giggled. She seemed to giggle a lot but he didn't mind it, girls always did. "Don't worry so much," she told him. "Look,"
Before he could move to stop her, she'd pulled the robe apart and he looked, completely dazzled, at the rosiness of her swollen tits and the blue veins on her white breasts. The blood pounded in his ears. "What did you say, honey?"
".. . Please, Stan! You're such a good kisser, I want you to kiss my tits."
Kiss them? Christ, he gobbled them! The creamy skin tasted so good and the feel of the small nipples on his tongue drove him out of his head. Before he knew it, he had her flat on her back and the tunic was somewhere across the room. She was wearing a tiny bikini panty and that was all. Stan feasted his eyes and his hands on the young body even though he got more terrified every minute. For one thing, her tits weren't even as big as he'd thought when he saw them veiled by the white fabric. Tiny little swellings, they looked so far from mature that he was appalled. Her body still had more than a touch of baby fat about it, particularly in the slight pouch of her tummy and her adorable dimple of a belly button. Her hips were small but saucy and the scrap of pink cloth over her pussy hardly hid its round perfection.
"Go on, take my panties off. You do it!"
"Oh, no, I can't!" But he did, his hands burning from contact with her intimate flesh. He was going to look at her twat, okay, but that was all! Well - he might do something to it with his hands and tongue. But fuck it, never!
He slid the panties down off her ankles and tossed then aside. What a dear little pussy it was! Almost a child's - he remembered Christy's at ages four and five - yet with a sparse fringe of auburn hair barely masking its smooth contours.
He spread her legs and looked at the slick pinkness and the tightly closed cuntal lips. Even as he watched, a small spasm rippled over the infantile cunt-lips and they gaped open for a moment. But she was so small, so unbelievably tiny! He spared a glance for the size of his erection, exposed by his rucked-up tunic. Shit, he was almost ashamed of its hugeness! He wished he were a boy again so he could have what he wanted without hurting this tiny doll-girl.
"Don't you like it?" She was pouting. "Aren't you even going to kiss Karen's little pussy?"
He couldn't resist any longer but grabbed her under the ass, and her little buns were so sweet! He felt as if they'd been designed just to fit into the palms of his hands!
He raised her buttocks so he looked directly into her little cunt. It was as neatly and cunningly designed as a rosebud, with the little petals folded in on each other. Compared to the full-blown cunt he was used to, Karen's was incredibly childish. And yet it was all there, all female, no doubt about it. Using one finger to stroke the crack, he saw her tiny clit emerge, pink and soft beneath the immature pubic hair. He felt as if he could spend the rest of his life just looking, barely touching it.
When he looked at her face, she was smiling with pleasure. "I love the way you look at me," she said. "But please don't ignore my tits, either. They're so cold and lonesome!"
It was an invitation he couldn't resist. They were so tiny yet so erect! The whole areola and nipple was about the size of one of Jean's fleshy nipples. He kissed them and squeezed them, licking wetly, trying to decide if they were identical. One had the better flavor, he knew that, but he couldn't decide which one, had to move from one to the other, testing and tasting.
"Oooohhh, what heaven," the little girl sighed.
He moved on down her tiny body, licking and sucking, letting his tongue dip into the small miracle of her navel, constantly approaching his impossible goal. At last he buried his face in the warm scented child crotch, his tongue shooting out to lick and kiss. He was overcome by the miracle of it, the wonderful expansive possibilities that naturally he would never take advantage of. But if he did, he knew how it would expand, how its smooth flesh, so red and glowing, would get slick with her juices. And how it would swell around his cock, making a space where there hadn't been one before. A space that was designed for just one thing, to accept and clutch the all-conquering organ and ... no!
It would get wet and slippery and stretch, but not enough to enclose his huge prick that throbbed so hungrily. He breathed in the marvelous girl-child-smell of her, the fragrance that nothing else in the world could quite match.
Stan had never been a pussy-eater, as Jean would have been pleased to testify. It was one of her long-standing grudges against him, that even in the legal marriage bed he remained completely demanding and un-loverlike. But he knew he felt quite differently about Karen's. No man could look at that virginal sweet cunt without wanting it! Without having the saliva flow in his mouth, and nervously rubbing his lips with his tongue!
The things Karen had said about fucking, her total attitude of abandoned delight, made little impression on Stan's mind. He was utterly convinced that this was the child's first real sexual experience and that if she knew what it was really all about, she wouldn't have been so bold. She was lucky to have got him instead of some plundering male who'd shove his fleshy weapon into her and leave her bleeding and crying! He resolved that - just as soon as he finished with her - he'd have a little fatherly talk, warning her, telling her what men were really like. She probably didn't even have a father to watch over her or she wouldn't be here like this!
And - since it was her first genuine lovemaking - he resolved to make it good for her, to make it a happy experience that she'd always remember. Just as she'd always remember Stan.
He moved back and hunkered down, using the greatest care as he touched the little slit with the tip of his middle finger. His heart thudded as he felt its moistness - partly but not all from his wet mouth - and he rubbed the finger up and down to coat it with her still hardly visible juices. The finger, when he put it to his mouth and nose, was so delicious he couldn't help but suck on it.
"Ohhh,- Stan! You're driving me absolutely insane!" She squirmed and pushed her hips up to him.
"Such a darling little cunt," he crooned, rubbing his hand over it, feeling it grown warm to his touch and ooze out more of the fragrant juices. Her labia felt so firm, her baby bush so soft and silky! His face was close enough that he could feel his own heated breath bouncing back from her inner thighs.
He separated the tiny lips until he could put his fingers on their damp undersides. Rubbing slowly back and forth, he used his other hand to tweak her tits. She was so small that he could cover both of them with one widespread hand!
Excuses rushed through his mind, justifications, even though he knew there really weren't any. But he couldn't stop himself, couldn't keep from rubbing a bit harder, a half-inch deeper. He finally got one finger in her to the first joint, wiggling it in the tight hot hole.
"Christy," he said, almost out of his mind with passion. "My sweet little girl, I've wanted you for so long!"
CHAPTER FIVE
If Karen noticed his slip of the tongue, she made no sign. And Stan himself had no idea that he'd confused the two girls in his drug - and lust-crazed mind. He wriggled his finger deeper into the sweet child's cunt, feeling the young pliant vaginal walls give way and make room. Oh, this little girl was made for fucking, all right! And it was a thrill he'd never expected, to be the one to start her off.
But finger-fucking wasn't enough. He pulled out and put his face there instead, his tongue finding the sweetness of her, the yielding yet restricting vaginal openings - so sweet, so unused, so eager.
He looked up briefly to see her watching him, her piquant little face rosy with emotion.
Karen was, she told herself, having a ball. She hadn't objected when Alexander told her to seduce this middle-aged square, but she hadn't much looked forward to it either. She never expected it to be as much fun as it turned out to be! Stan was like a big teddy bear, and she thought she was going to just love him to pieces! Poor dear, he'd never really lived even though he'd had so many more years to do it in than she. It was easy to see that he thought he was taking her cherry and she decided to keep the illusion going as long as possible, give him just as many kicks as he could handle.
What he really wanted was as obvious as - as the mighty hard-on he was waving around. Imagine wanting your own daughter that much and being afraid to fuck her! After all, what were families for if they didn't help one another?
Stan's fingers crept around behind her buttocks and separated the cheeks of her ass. Wow, maybe he wasn't as square as she thought he was. She wriggled ecstatically as she felt him stroke her asshole.
His fingers still pressed on that tight elastic opening while his tongue busied itself in her cunt. He, was a little bit ashamed of himself, feeling he was taking advantage of her innocence, but not ashamed enough to stop. He had no intention of actually penetrating that resistant ring of muscle, he'd never done that in his life. But he did want to get her so thoroughly excited that she'd forget about being afraid.
As his tongue stabbed its fiery way between the moist flanges of her cunt, her hips began to move rhythmically, bobbing insistently up against his face. Stan was in an agony of delight. His prick was as hard as it had ever been, throbbing and wanting release. Only his tremendous will power kept him from jamming it into her mouth or her pussy, he hardly cared which.
He moved his lips to the small bud of her clit, sucking it voraciously while his tongue began a bouncing tempo on the sensitive organ.
Thoroughly enjoying himself, Karen decided she'd better do a bit of play-acting. It wasn't really necessary at this point, but it might be fun.
"Ohhhh, don't, Stan, pullleassse!" The quaver in her voice was real, from her rising passion, but he didn't know that.
It seemed to be the trigger he needed. He took his face out of her snatch and moved up over her body in a masterful way, spreading her knees and crouching between them. Karen could hardly breathe, she was so excited. Seeing his flushed face and the stubborn set of his chin, she fantasized herself into believing he really was going to rape her. "Oohhh, plleassse no!"
It was as if Stan didn't even hear her. His hands pinned her upper body to the floor and his eyes feasted on her, enjoying the sight of her slim little body and her obvious distress.
Karen closed her eyes so the truth wouldn't leap out at him. She felt a hard pressure on her pussy and squirmed valiantly, only half pretending. But it seemed the more she tried to get away, the harder the big broad head of his enormous dick came against her little miniature cunt. Her own struggles forced it between the outer lips and she felt it inch inside her.
Seconds later the hard unrelenting cock bored its way into the youthful small opening, and the girl couldn't pretend any longer. His cock was so huge, it filled her and stretched the thin wet membrane so that she winced with pain. At the same time it was so lovely, so thrilling and exciting, that her own emotions exhausted her. She lay still, feeling her inner, walls gradually ease and accept the enormous intruder.
As she lay passively, Stan began to stroke his painfully hard cock in and out. He moved cautiously at first, but as his lust grew and his cock swelled, he almost forgot the childish delicacy of his partner. He slammed it in and out of her slit with a driving beat, half aware that the pink cunt-skin clung to his joint and moved in and out too. Feeling the child squirm under him, hearing her begin to whimper, he panted and worked harder.
"Just a second . . . more . . ." he grunted. "Just. . . hang on. ..."
His face grew red and swollen with the strain, as he felt his balls ready to discharge their hot sticky load. "Aaarrrgghhh!" he groaned as he fucked his prick into the delicate pussy in climactic vigor. His jism spurted out like it was jet-propelled, flooding the little child twat and slicking the passage for his suddenly limp prick.
"Jeezzz!" Stan let his breath out in a mighty sigh and fell away from her, his eyes closing and body relaxing as his spent cock slipped out of its tight cummy nest. God, but that felt good! It'd been too damned long!
In the back of his mind he knew he was going to feel terrible in a minute, horrified at ravishing this immature virgin. At the same time he had a sort of smug satisfaction in realizing what he'd done . . . he'd showed her, hadn't he? He was all man and he knew it.
"You - you beast!" Her little voice was shrill with outrage. "You fucking animal!"
Stan smiled lazily, without opening his eyes. Of course she had to play that game, pretend that he'd just raped her. When they both knew she'd been more than willing or he'd never have done it.
"Is that what you call making love?" Her voice went higher with scorn and indignation.
"Now you know," he said contentedly. She'd calm down in a minute. It was better to let females have their little scenes, act out their silly roles.
"Yesss! I know! I know exactly why your wife wanted to come here, poor thing. I hope she's finding out all men aren't like you."
"What-at?"
"And I thought you'd be a groovy lover! I've never had an older man before - except Alexander, of course." She paused for breath. "I'm going to fix you good!"
His mind took in her words but they didn't make sense to him. Hysterical, probably. Girls got like that sometimes. He snuffled and turned over, waiting for her to run down. He heard her moving around the room, and he snuggled deeper into the soft cushions.
Cra-ack!
Stan's eyes flew open in astonishment and he sat up. The flesh on his meaty thigh stung. He looked up and saw her standing over him, her arm upraised as if to strike again. Even then, even seeing the little whip in her hand, he couldn't help but look and appreciate her attractions. Her face was flushed rosily, and her slim boyish body poised tautly.
"Come on now, honey, don't do that!"
Cra-ack! The whip descended again, this time coming altogether too near to his crotch. Goddamn it, it seemed like she meant it! "Now cut it out, Karen! I know you're upset and all that - "
"Upset!"
"Yeah, well, you were willing enough a minute ago. Now put that toy away and I'll uh . . . I'll apologize. Is that what you want? Ol' Stan didn't mean to hurt you."
She shook her head, her mop of reddish hair flying. "You are just incredible, man! Apologize yet!"
"Well, I'll do - I'll do whatever you want. Just stop slinging that thing around. You're gonna hit my cock in a minute."
He could take it away from her easily enough, but he felt too relaxed and comfortable to bother. Besides, he knew she'd be okay any minute.
"You bet I'm gonna hit your fucking cock! That's all it's good for, target practice," she raged.
Somehow he began to realize that the conversation didn't exactly make sense. What was it she'd said, about thinking he'd be a "groovy lover?" And never having had an older man before - except Alexander? Her meaning was still vague to him, but she certainly didn't act or sound like an outraged virgin.
"Cut it out now, and tell me what this's all about."
"You think you're gonna leave me hanging like this? What am I supposed to do, go in the corner and jerk myself off?"
"I'll do whatever you say," he mumbled.
"You bet you will! Get up on your knees!" The whip whistled through the air again, landing this time on his shoulders. Damnit, it did sting!
Still confused, he lurched awkwardly to his knees. Karen moved up next to him, so close he could feel the heat from her body on his face. She spread her legs and her little almost hairless snatch touched his nose.
"Go on, do it," she commanded. "Suck me off, and make it good!"
Sucking pussies wasn't his line, but he wanted to appease her. Besides, she looked and smelled so good! He put his hands behind her flat ass and pulled it forward so his tongue could reach all those delicious wet crevices. It occurred to him that he was eating his own sperm, but at the moment he didn't care. He was much too busy trying to hang on to her moving hips.
"There, that's right," she panted. "Suck my clit now . . . no, not like that, idiot! Lick alongside of it. . ."
Only moments later he felt the spasms ripple through her. It excited him almost unbearably and he felt his prick begin to swell and harden. Goddamn, but she was a hot little piece! He'd just have to stick his dong in there again and . . . shit! She was getting away from him!
"Just sit still a minute," Karen ordered. "I can see now that you're just dumb, that's all. How could a dude get to be your age and not know anything more about fucking than you do?"
It finally began to penetrate his colossal vanity. She wasn't complaining about being raped, she was complaining because he didn't do it better! That was a hard dose to swallow. Of course Jean had complained from time to time, saying he never tried to satisfy her, but he'd always thought that was unmanly, doing the things she wanted. Stan shook his head, more confused than ever.
"Listen, Stan." She squatted on the cushions across the table. She looked at him thoughtfully. "You're a heavy duty dude, Stan, you know that?"
He was confused. He ought to be insulted, he knew that. But it was impossible to be angry at the little girl, not only because of the pleasures he'd just enjoyed with her, but because there was something so appealing in her big eyes and rosy face.
"Aww, come on, Karen," he said.
"I'm going to teach you," she decided. "I guess that's what Alexander had in mind for me all the time."
That was ludicrous, but he was willing to accept it, if by teaching she meant more exciting erotic play. And after all, what else could she teach him?
"The first thing we better do is," she said, "we better have another J."
She opened the carved box and handed him a slim cigarette. He tried to remember what all the news about it had said; the stuff wasn't really that bad, but the kids dug it as part of their life-style. Or something like that. Well, one of them hadn't hurt him, so the second one wouldn't either. This time, Karen kept a whole one for herself and he didn't like that as well. He rather enjoyed puffing on the paper tube that had just come from her dainty lips. In any case, he lighted up and smoked.
"The first thing you need," she said, smiling wickedly, "is a course in female anatomy. Come over here, Stan ..."
It was a good thing he did have dope to smoke, to take the edge off his shock; yet he had to admit she was never vulgar, never crude. And he further had to admit he enjoyed every minute of her "lesson."
Karen slumped back against a pillow, shoving her ass at him, her knees spread wide. Her whole genital area was thus open to his view. And even as he watched she did something with the ragged pink lips, some inward muscular contortion, so that they popped open for a moment and he glimpsed the inner depths, red and glistening.
"Look here, at this," Karen said.
Look? How could he do anything else?
"This is my clit," she instructed. "It may be tiny but it's just like a man's cock - no, don't laugh! It really is! Now when you really want to make me cum . . ."
Even that was a new idea to Stan, but he could see that he hadn't better say so. He'd had a sort of idea that when a female got all sticky and open in her cunt, that was cumming . . . but he really had never worried about it too much. He tried to follow everything she said, but his mind kept drifting off, and he had a quite unmanly desire to giggle. It did seem ludicrous to him, to be instructed in sexual techniques by this tiny immature slip of a girl.
On the other hand, it sounded as if it might be fun.
"Let me try," he said. He put his "J" and hers in the ash tray and gently pushed her on her back.
"Put your hand on top of mine," she said, laying her fingers in the moist crevice of her pussy. He did as she told him although it seemed obscene, letting her finger herself like that.
After a minute he was impatient. He wanted to feel it for himself. Pushing her hand aside, he slipped his fingers between the slick damp folds. God, how could such a youngster be so exciting, and get so excited! His middle two fingers eased their way into the soft viscous opening and a new thrill shot through him as he explored the tiny wet vagina. It didn't seem possible that he'd actually had his own big cock up there! He looked down and saw it begin to swell, the shaft growing thick and hard and the head redly bulbous. Shit, he'd done it once and he could do it again!
"Ooohhhh," Karen moaned, wriggling against his touch. Her hips pushed forward and his fingers slid in farther. "Now kiss it for me, darling, kiss it and suck it!"
Stan stretched out on the floor beside her, his big hands cupping her hips. His tongue shot out and tasted the flavor of her scanty pubic hair, and then the tender flesh underneath. For some reason his mind was so clear that he was aware of every little movement, every delicious scent and flavor.
He discovered that when he lay his tongue alongside her clit and agitated it, that made her hips bob harder. Still experimenting, he made his mouth form an O around the little bud and sucked gently.
"Urrhhh," she moaned. "That's ... so . . . good!"
It was kind of kinky, Karen discovered, to guide and teach Stan. After all, at her age people were always telling her what to do and this was her chance to reverse the roles! Besides, he was a quick learner! Her gasps and whimperings were very real. She bounced her little ass up and down until his tongue was fucking her clit and that was even better.
Electric tingles shot through Stan. He forgot all about the unique "school" he was in. He had a hard-on and he was going to fuck the kid - right this minute! Getting up on his knees, he brought his high-arching cock forward and pressed it on her teeny tiny pussy.
"Oh, Stan, stop it!"
"You're no virgin," he grunted at her and shoved harder. "You liked it all right a couple of minutes ago."
Karen wanted to continue the lesson, but instead she decided to cooperate, suddenly yielding to a certain feminine wisdom she didn't know she had. Men were funny. If they wanted virgins so much, why did they set out to remove the virginity from as many girls as they could? She knew he was out of control now and it was okay because at least she'd gotten off one time, and when he was finished with his gross fucking she'd make him suck her some more.
Besides, the way he was wallowing on her body, driving the breath right out of her, she couldn't have argued if she'd wanted to.
He pressed heavy wet kisses on her mouth, his big hands clutching desperately. She lay very still, afraid he was going to crush her with his weight if he didn't rip her up with the blunt hot column that was probing against her pussy.
"You love to fuck, don't you? Don't you?" he mouthed between kisses.
The swollen head penetrated her shrinking tissues, lunging and charging, awakening her slumbering senses. Her sensitive nubbin began to swell again and throb and she hoped he'd keep it up long enough for the friction to thoroughly excite her. She tensed her buttocks and thighs, readying herself to respond to his uncontrolled lunges and rootings.
But he did it again! The quivering turned to spewing and he moaned in that incoherent way he'd done before. Karen wanted to cry, she was so disappointed! His cock slipped limply out and hot semen bathed her bottom. She felt cheated and her cunt ached without his prick in there screwing and reaming it out.
The little girl really didn't know what to do. She wanted to cry, first, and then get out of this room and find somebody, anybody, who'd really give her a worthwhile screwing. And she'd do it, too, if only she weren't so afraid of what Alexander would say and do.
Goddamn, there must be a way!
Karen sat up and wiped her crotch with Kleenex. The big pig, he just rolled over on the thick carpeting and began to snore! Maybe that was partly from smoking grass, he wasn't used to it, but it was insulting all the same.
She puffed moodily at her relighted number and surveyed the sprawling big body next to her. Any minute he'd begin to snore and that would be the final straw! She tried to think of what, in her limited experience, could apply to this situation. It would be easier to think of something if only her cunt didn't ache so!
She finally did the only thing she knew to do. Slipping on her tunic, she tiptoed out of the room and headed down the corridor. If she could find Alexander, and he wasn't busy, and didn't laugh at her too much, he'd give the answer. He always knew what to do!
Alexander did know, of course, but it took him a few minutes to get it all organized. Consequently when Jean and Jerry, searching in the many rooms and alcoves of the big house finally found Stan, he was alone, still asleep.
"He's snoring," Jean whispered in disgust. It was obvious that he'd been indulging in some sort of sexual activity; the drying jism was white on the inside of his thighs. She didn't care about that, in fact it helped ease her conscience. But she could think of better things to do than watch her husband sleep, particularly when Jerry hadn't been able to reassure her entirely about Christy's welfare.
Jerry didn't know exactly what was happening, but he was sure that Stan wouldn't be left alone long like this. "Come over here," he whispered and led her to a dark corner of the small room. They sat back against the cushions, still holding hands. Jean was more tired than she'd realized and it was very nice to sit still and relax. She examined the room curiously, liking the India print draperies and big cushions, trying to identify the odd odor in the room.
"Ahhhh," Jerry said with an indrawn breath.
Karen had returned. Her eyes flicked over them but she made no comment or greeting, but went about what she'd begun, dimming the lights and plumping up the pillows.
The door opened again and two more young girls slipped into the room, barefoot, wearing the brief tunics. Long hair floated on their shoulders. One was blonde, her hair almost as pretty as Christy's, Jean thought.
"What's going on?" she hissed.
"I don't know . . . let's wait and see."
It was rather like a theater, Jean thought, and she certainly had an excellent seat. She watched, fascinated, as the first little girl - Karen - knelt over the sleeping man. Crouched between his knees, she pushed them farther apart and put her head in the open vee. Jean could see her slim pink tongue shoot out and slosh wetly over his uninflated prick. It stirred! Her breath beginning to come raggedly, she leaned forward so as not to miss a detail.
Meanwhile one of the other girls pulled her tunic high and stripped off her little panties. Jean remembered seeing that olive-skinned face and lustrous black hair before, in the big room where all this action began.
The dark-haired girl straddled Stan's face and bent her knees, slowly lowering herself down on it. A little smile that began to form on his face was hidden from view as the smooth olive thighs covered his expression. Balancing herself with her hands, her pelvis tilted forward, the girl leaned on her knees and pressed her young slit directly on his face.
Jean didn't even realize she'd reached out until she discovered she was holding Jerry's cock tightly in one hand, and it was swelling every bit as much as Stan's under those wet kisses.
CHAPTER SIX
Stan thought he might be dreaming, but he wasn't sure. If he were, it was surely one of the best dreams he'd ever had.
For long moments he didn't remember where he was or what was happening to him, but whatever it was, was good. He swam upward through layers of sleep, conscious of feeling something strange and exciting going on in his body. His cock ached pleasantly, enough to make him remember he'd recently exercised it in the happiest of ways. And now something wet and warm stroked it, kissed it, sucked at it. He didn't want to open his eyes and end the dream, but a lascivious smile crept over his face.
Then, just as he began to blink and raise his eyelids, another warm, wonderful thing began happening. His mouth and nose and even his eyes were covered with a velvety warm presence, a softness with a familiar and exciting smell.
Memory came flooding back. He was in the exotic little room at Christy's boarding house, and he'd just finished fucking that odd but exciting child, Karen. And now, if he wasn't dreaming, the dear girl was getting ready to give him a blow-job. Just can't let my body alone, he thought. She is one sexy little doll!
But that couldn't be all that was happening. After all, Karen couldn't be down there sucking on his joint and still have her dripping cunt on his face, could she? He forced his eyes open and saw the gleaming black hair that fell on either side of rosy-tipped breasts. His nose was pushed into the yielding softness of a very feminine belly and his mouth was full of tender viscous flesh, and he found saliva nearly running over his lips. God, there must be two of them, both working on old Stan!
He was all set to relax and enjoy it when he remembered that he'd just cum twice - or was it three times? - and there'd be no way he could get it up again this soon. Shit, man, what a waste!
On the other hand, it certainly felt like he had a hard-on! Maybe that miracle was happening too. He was ready to believe in anything at the moment. His hand moved from his side into his crotch, testing. He didn't want to shove that warm mouth off, but he had an anxious need to find out if he was making it or not. The growing hardness of his organ - what he could feel of it with her face so near - convinced him.
The room was much darker than before. He'd have liked to take a good look at himself, as if viewing a stranger, in order to add to the pleasure, but even if there were more light, he couldn't see without disturbing the black-haired girl.
Just about then he heard something that froze his blood and almost cost him his hard-on. If that wasn't Jean's voice then he'd never heard it before! He couldn't make out what she was saying but the tone was definitely not a happy one - and no wonder! If she were actually in the room then he was in big trouble!
The voice faded, a door closed, and the avid mouth worked harder on his swelling rod, taking it in with a sucking motion and then doing something devilish with the tongue, something that sent goose bumps up and down his arms. The way that hot probe curled around his cock, finding the most sensitive spots, lustfully stroking and sucking at the same time! He concluded that it hadn't been Jean after all, probably just his own conscience making him imagine things because he couldn't quite believe in his own luck.
Sucking away more avidly than ever, Karen realized she'd almost goofed. She should have known right away that these squares weren't ready for everything that happened in this place, and gratitude for Jerry overwhelmed her. He'd figured it out in a hurry, and hustled the unwilling wife out of here!
Karen cast a sly upward glance at the third girl in the room, the only one not involved in this wild sexuality. Christy sat with her head down, her long blonde hair masking and screening her face. It didn't seem as if she'd even noticed her mother over there in the corner but, with Christy, you could never tell.
Anyhow, if she'd goofed there was only one thing to do about it, which was to do the best possible job on this big hunk of man, so Alexander would be more inclined to forgive her. She bent to her work with renewed vigor. And after all, she really did dig sucking cock!
Stan gave himself up to the ecstatic moment. Every smallest part of him became concentrated on his dick, and excruciating pleasure-pain stabbed him until he groaned and twisted his buttocks, shoving his hips forward toward her mouth. He wanted to grab her head, and force it up and down in a fucking movement, but he couldn't reach her, couldn't move or twist with this other doll sitting on his face. But he did the best he could with his hips. He knew his hard-on was complete now, knew he was building toward still another orgasm and he was wildly happy, thought vaguely annoyed by what he considered the unnecessary addition of the second girl.
"Play with my tits," she hissed at him. Stan groaned and turned his head, trying to free himself from the clinging cunt. Instantly the warm mouth withdrew from his cock and Karen pinched it lightly.
"Don't stop," he groaned.
"No titee, no suckee," came the voice from his crotch.
"Yes, and suck my clit while you're at it," the black-haired girl said.
He groaned again, wordlessly. His meaty hands went up to the breasts - they were rounder, fuller than Karen's, he noticed - and his tongue moved reluctantly upward into her slit. Right away, Karen put her mouth back to his cock and this time drew all of it up into her sucking cheeks. Shit, she was going to swallow it whole! The excitement so far surpassed anything he'd ever felt in his life that he thought he'd die with sheer ecstasy. His hips bucked up and down and he knew he was almost ready to cum. In the total thrill of the moment he forgot the girls' commands, his hands dropping to his side and his mouth going slack.
And instantly, it happened again!
"Suck!" the girl commanded. Karen pinched, a little harder.
Stan sucked.
He brought his hands to her hips and grasped them firmly, moving her up and down in a little bouncing movement. That must have been the right thing to do. Karen sucked harder, the strange girl whimpered and sighed. He shoved his tongue straight making it hard and stiff as a poker, and brought her cunt down hard on it. To his surprise he felt an intense pleasure as his slick membranes gave way before his tongue. Shit, this was all right! He thought he could go on for hours like this! He hated to admit it but the truth was, little Karen might have the right idea after all.
Then he lost the ability to think, as the dark girl exploded her cum in his mouth and he shot his own into Karen's. The spasms that gripped him with it were so fantastic he gasped like a fish out of water and felt all the strength leave his muscles. He'd never known he had that much feeling in him. . . .
Jerry had figured it out, all right. He saw the puzzled look Jean gave the three young girls, and he saw too that her excitement had for the moment overcome her natural reasoning ability. It wasn't anything to do with Stan, he knew that. But he recognized - and in a minute Jean would be sure to - that young blonde watching.
He wasn't sure what kind of an explosion that would set off. Besides, she wasn't going to simply watch forever - and he didn't think Jean was ready to handle that. Inwardly he cursed himself and Karen equally for the mixup and knew he'd have to act fast.
And he did. Standing up and scooping Jean into his arms, he ignored her sputtering protests and headed for the door. His wide shoulders blocked the view even though Jean tried to look past him, not wanting to miss a single move of her husband's seduction.
He felt he should have known Christy right away, but he'd been too busy enjoying Jean's spontaneous reaction to pay attention.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, putting her on her feet outside the door.
"I didn't mind seeing Stan like that," she said spiritedly. "I was enjoying it!"
"I could tell." He grinned at her, amazed at the sudden transformation from the shy housewife. "But I just remembered that we were supposed to meet Alexander right now. He's waiting for us."
"Oh." She frowned but adjusted her tunic and slipped her hand into his. "Well, okay."
"Don't worry, you'll see all the action you can handle before this week is over," he promised her.
It was true enough, Alexander had said to bring Jean to his rooms "when she's ready." Jerry figured she was as ready then as she'd ever be. He was angry with himself for almost blowing it, knowing she was in no way ready for seeing her daughter's involvement in these sexual scenes. But none of this showed on his big placid face.
What Jean really wanted was a nap, and a chance to think about all the marvellously exciting things that had been happening to her. But she was curious about Alexander, the man who, as Jerry said, owned and managed the boarding house. She followed slowly, wondering when she'd get a chance to sleep.
Alexander himself was looking forward to the meeting. He'd had reports on both Jean and Stan and it was only then that he allowed himself to recognize how worried he'd been underneath. It hadn't been a smart thing to do, bringing these two here, but he'd pulled it off, obviously. He scolded himself a little for taking the risks but - he thought complacently - he'd done it again.
Actually it had been a calculated risk. He was quite aware of Christina's true age. When her parents began making a fuss, he'd had several choices, none of them good. He could have ordered the girl to leave and he suspected her lover, Dave, would have left too. That way everything might have come out in the open, if her parents pursued her. Christina might have told all, he couldn't count on a girl her age.
Or, he could have let the pair come and made sure there was nothing to see, for the whole week. That would have been the easiest and certainly the smartest.
But Alexander was a gambler. He looked at Stan and gambled on his stupidity and lust. He looked at Jean and gambled again, not sure whether she could forget her moral upbringing or not. His ego told him she would, because he wanted her to - or, to put it more simply, because he wanted her. Her lush curves and unaware beauty excited something deep inside him and so he took the chance.
And just as he predicted, it was all working out beautifully!
He sat in his spacious, mysterious-looking room and congratulated himself on his brilliance, when Jerry ushered in the tired housewife. He could see the change in her at a glance. Her face was open, relaxed, contented. She might be horrified if she had a chance to think about it, but she wasn't going to get that chance.
"Sit down, my dear. This is the most comfortable chair," he said solicitously.
"Thank you." She looked around at the big shadowy room. Dark tapestries decorated the walls and rich rugs covered the gleaming wood floors. She hadn't time to take in all the unusual furniture, carved chests and high-backed chairs, nor the many objects on stands and bookcases. A stuffed owl mounted on the wall made her flinch slightly, but the total effect was good. "You like the room?"
"Yes . . . it's not what I expected." Alexander laughed. "It doesn't look like an ordinary boarding house, is that what you mean?
Well, I don't look like an ordinary man either, do I?"
She had to admit he didn't, with his silvery beard and neatly trimmed silvery hair. His tanned face was strong, with a square chin and acquiline nose, and his piercing blue eyes dominated it. His voice, as she was already aware, was the most striking thing about him. She believed he could read from the telephone directory and give the impression of a sermon.
He sat relaxed in a chair across from her while Jerry wandered into the recesses of the room, bringing back a handsome copper tray with sparkling decanters and small, delicate liqueur glasses.
"I imagine you're tired," Alexander said sympathetically. "Let me pour you something that will make you feel better."
"Thank you," she said, automatically reaching for the glass. The liquid in it was green-gold and a heavenly aroma wafted from it. Jean sipped, and let the oily liquid roll over her tongue.
Jerry walked behind her and quietly opened the door. He knew his cue and although he was tired, he rather regretted it. Jean was the kind of woman that - if he ever did such a foolish and uncharacteristic thing - he could imagine settling down with. Her sweetness and warmth affected him as strongly as her voluptuous body. He knew that she'd be fascinated with the charismatic Alexander, she'd never notice that he'd left the room. Things would never be quite the same for her. He accepted it, but he did rather regret it.
Jean sipped her liqueur and looked at Alexander, her guileless blue eyes softer and prettier without the heavy make-up she usually wore. She was conscious - for the first time in hours - of the shortness of her little tunic, but not unpleasantly so. She wondered if Alexander were aware of all she'd had a hand in the planning of it. She hadn't had time to really think, but it seemed obvious that all this sexual activity was a normal part of their lives.
"I won't ask how you are liking it here," Alexander said, "because it's really too soon to tell, isn't it? So I'll just ask if you're comfortable right now, if you're hungry or cold or - anything."
"I'm fine," she said, smiling. And she did feel fine, she discovered, logical or not. "There's only one thing ..."
"I think I can guess. You're worried about Christy."
"Yes. I can't help it. She's so young."
"You mustn't worry." He leaned closer and looked hypnotically into her eyes. "Relax every muscle, Jean, and don't let worry make those lines on your pretty face."
"Let your arms relax, your wrists, your fingers. Your spine is tense ... let it go, let it relax. You've never felt better in your life, Jean ..."
He went on talking in the low, soothing voice, in what she knew was the standard hypnotist's patter. But the funny thing was, it did work. Her eyes were glued on his and it seemed as if his soul streamed forth and filled her entire consciousness. He took the small glass from her loose grip and put it on the table, without removing that burning gaze. Jean felt she could trust him completely, even to the point of accepting his judgment as to what was best for Christy. She could no longer blame her daughter for running away from home, for whatever else she was doing, for the lovers she might be having or had already had. It came to her as if Alexander had said it aloud that Christy was a woman in all but name and there was nothing harmful in the choices she had made.
"Sleep a little, yes, that's right, sleep. When you wake up you'll feel better than you've ever felt before. Yes, sleep, sleep . . . you'll feel better than you ever felt before ..."
The cadence of his speech was like poetry and she let her heavy eyelids droop, falling into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. When she woke up she had no idea how long her nap had lasted, but it must have been long enough. She felt fresh vitality surge through her body, exciting and invigorating.
She looked curiously at Alexander. "You hypnotized me, didn't you?"
"Yes . . . but not without your consent. Here's another little glass of absinthe for you, Jean, and some sandwiches."
She found she was famished and the sandwiches were delicious.
"Ummm, I feel so good!" She finished up the last crumb and stretched luxuriously. "I wish I could always wake up feeling like that."
"You could, if - but never mind that right now. If you're through, Jean, come with me. I want to show you something."
He took her wrist and led her to a door in the far wall. Her arm tingled where he touched her and her whole body became instantly alert, aware of him. He followed her through the door and closed it behind them. She stood, gasping in amazement, while Alexander stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
The bed was huge, and round. It was covered with brown fur that looked like mink to her, although she didn't suppose it was. Golden silk draperies were tied back around the undulating expanse of fur and - "Oh! It's a water bed!" she gasped.
"Yes. Have you ever slept on one?"
"No . . . it's so beautiful!" All Jean could think of was, not that she was going to be in that bed with Alexander, but that it was really disgraceful to do it after her strenuous earlier session with Jerry.
"Don't worry about. . . ummm . . . being promiscuous," he said as if he were reading her thoughts. There was a smile in his voice. "You won't be doing that every day, of course, but it won't harm you this once."
"I guess not," she said faintly. It never occurred to her to say No! She knew that she wanted him, knew that there was no way her awakened body would turn and walk out of the room. His hands moved from her shoulders to her tits and cupped them, pulling her close. She could feel the hard bulge of his cock against her body.
His fingers rolled her nipples through the thin cloth and she melted against him, her whole body on fire. She wanted him worse than she'd ever wanted anything in her life before! It seemed as if this whole crazy day had been building up to just one thing, just one moment . . . the moment when he'd put his hard cock into her cunt and possess her the way she'd always wanted to be possessed. Her throat went dry and her breath slowed with the strength of her need.
He reached around to unfasten the tunic and pull it off of her, then turned her to face him. She stood proudly so he could see her, posing with one foot forward, hand on hip, her still firm and youthful-looking breasts jutting forward. His approving gasp made her inhale sharply with pride and pleasure. She knew she was insane with her lust, but she didn't care.
"You're so beautiful, my dear," he said. He opened the belt of his robe and dropped it, baring his hard-muscled naked body. Her eyes caressed every inch of it, the tanned smooth skin, the wide shoulders, flat muscular chest, hard-muscled belly. His cock stood out boldly, unexpectedly white compared to his tanned thighs and bush of dark hair. Its head gleamed redly as he stroked back the smooth foreskin. "You like that, sweet Jean?"
"Ohhh, yes!"
He led her to the bed and Jean sank onto the fur covering, amused and surprised at the undulating mattress. Every little move set up ripples that intensified the erotic touch against her skin.
When Alexander whispered, "move down like this," she obediently swung farther onto the bed, lying on her back with her legs wide spread. She couldn't help the way her lascivious body waited for the tingling thrills she knew he'd bring her! He kissed her, a deep tonguing kiss that burned like liquid fire. His hands moved up and down, squeezing her tits, caressing her thighs, and soon his mouth followed where his hands had been. She wriggled ecstatically as he planted a thousand tiny kisses on her throat, her breasts, her nipples. His tongue swirled hotly in diminishing circles around the smooth whiteness of her rounded orbs, sucking the rosy tits that stood up like pink flags.
His face moved farther down, until his hot probing tongue was slithering up and down her inner thighs. She arched her back and spread her legs wider, while he pressed more tightly between her thighs. When the hot probe touched her hairy-edged slit, lingering at the clutching mouth of her moist vagina, Jean shivered uncontrollably. Oh, this was what she'd been waiting for all her life! This was the perfect moment, the perfect lover - and in real life too! She'd never dreamed that there could be anything as heavenly as this!
His strong hands moved to the back of her knees and raised them forward until they almost touched the alert rosy buds of her tits. With quivering lustful excitement she knew that now the whole delicate plan of her wide-spread vagina was open to his hands and to his mouth. "What - what are you doing?" She shivered again as he surprised her, but his hands pressed her firmly down. In spite of her mental shock, her lewd body was thoroughly enjoying the sensation as his tongue moved farther, flicking against the tightly puckered ring of her asshole. The sensual pleasure sent electricity through her clenched hands and curled toes. It was so unbearably delicious and exciting! Moaning and gasping as he voraciously sucked and licked, she felt as if a whole new magical world had opened for her. Who would have thought there was so much pleasure in the world, so many layers and layers of feeling, beyond anything she'd ever experienced!
Then he was back at her clitoris, his hot wet tongue flicking the tiny organ. She shivered with ripples of ecstatic pleasure.
"Darling, darling," she moaned, "this is so wonderful, so fantastically heavenly!"
He stopped a moment and looked at her. "This was just the beginning," he said with quiet confidence. "I'm going to do things to you that - well, you'll see."
"Oh, fuck me, please fuck me!"
He smiled, his blue gaze drawing her eyes. "Anybody can just fuck, sweet Jean. I'm going to do more for you than that. .. just wait, and trust me."
More than just fuck? She was childishly disappointed for a moment, thinking that she'd never yet had enough fucking to satisfy. But she did trust him, she did believe in him. She felt as if she were putting her whole life into his hands, to do with as he wished. He was so supremely sure of himself, how could she doubt him?
Alexander meant every word he said, and - his blood boiling with the heat of his passion - he gloried in the thought of the lessons he would teach this beautiful unused body. He knew she was wholly his, for now and as long as he wanted her. He licked his lips as he thought of the surprises she was going to have, beginning immediately. And then there would be the kennels, and all the other refinements he'd dreamed up.
He turned her over and pulled her ass in the air, as if he were going to mount her from behind, dog-fashion. Her buttocks were spread wide open so he could see the tantalizing brown starfish of her asshole. He looked from it to his blood-engorged cock, smiling in anticipation. Rubbing his cock over her cuntlips until it was dripping with her juices, he felt her tremble under him.
"Trust me," he said softly.
Posing the head of his cock at the small brown hole, he shoved forward with all his strength, and felt the taut ass muscles give under his determined approach.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jean had a vague idea of what he was doing and she was scared. But the perfect trust she felt for Alexander kept her in the awkward position and her inflamed senses wouldn't let her move. She felt him shove his cockhead harder and the sphincter muscles gave way with only a faint pain.
Inching forward, Alexander felt his cock being sucked in at the same time other muscular action tried to reject the painful intruder. Pushing harder, he rammed the tip inside. The feel of those shrinking, clasping muscles around his sensitive prick flesh made him crazy with lust. Excitement exploded in his gut! Seizing her by the hips, he held her almost doubled while he lay on his side behind her. Slowly he moved the huge erection back and forth, sensing to the utmost the tight grip of muscles around it. The anus expanded as he forced his rod into depths that had never known such an invader before.
At the same time he put a hand in her wide-open, vibrating cunt. Finding the inner organ that he knew controlled her, her tender clit, he pinched and rubbed it until he heard her gasp and felt answering motions from her hips and thighs. Driving hard, he pounded her from behind and finger-fucked her in front. The desperately quaking, clutching but cringing flesh that gripped his cock brought him thrill after thrill, like small electric tingles, sending their vibrations through his groin. His twitching buttocks drove him on as he fucked her wildly, bull-like in his single-minded desire.
"Aaaarrrgghhh," Jean moaned, half in pleasure, half in pain. Because once the first stabbing agony subsided, she found herself impaled on the greatest pleasure-giving cock she'd ever known. She found herself timing her motions to his and urging him on with savage gyrations of her pelvis. All self-restraint was lost as the double invasion of her body combined to drive her wild with lust. Her vaginal walls clutched his hand and sucked it inward until it felt to her like a hard cock.
Jerry's lovemaking had first broken down her prudish ideas about sex and released her for this greater enjoyment. Now she felt as if she were a different person, liberated from hang-ups that had no purpose but to induce guilt, needless guilt.
There was nothing Alexander could suggest that she wouldn't do, she thought as she bucked wildly back at him.
And - of course - the contrast with Stan's brief and unloving lovemaking couldn't have been greater! For the umpteenth time that day she felt the faint twitchings that foretold her climax and knew, happily, that here orgasm was considered her rightful due! She redoubled her efforts, in a frenzy rubbing her quivering clit against his wrist as she butted her ass on his prick.
"It's cumming, I'M CUMMING!!! OOOHHHHH!"
Not only in her vagina but in her asshole she felt the beginning of a grinding, wrenching orgasm and its explosive force wracked her body. Riding on waves of liquid motion, she was barely conscious for long moments as Alexander's body bucked up and down on her. Right when the thrill was most intense, she felt his hot sperm jetting into her, filling and overflowing that small anal opening. Gasping cries came from her choked throat as sensation after sensation swept through her.
Jerry had been wonderful, but this was a real man, all man, who'd supercharged her body with electric fire. She collapsed on the bed, more thoroughly satisfied than ever before in her life.
"Was that good, darling?" Alexander asked tenderly. He loved the way she'd accommodated herself to the strange new sensations, without crying out or complaining even when he knew he must have hurt her.
"Ooohhh, yesss," she said and sighed.
Jean rolled over lazily and kissed his shoulder, his throat, his arm - whatever she could reach. "Will you do that to me again?" she asked. "I don't mean right now, of course," she added, laughing.
"Of course," he promised, "that and other things. I have some surprises for you, too."
Later, dressed in a warm woolen robe that one of the young girls brought her, she sat in the big shadowy room and talked to Alexander. "It's all happened so fast - " she said.
He laughed. "That was the idea, as you probably guessed. It didn't take much insight to figure out that you were a very frustrated woman. Still, if you'd had time to think about what was happening, you might have panicked."
"Yes," she agreed, "I probably would have. But Stan's a different story. He must have loved every minute of it."
"Not quite." He went on to tell her about Karen's problems with Stan, as the young girl had reported them. "We all think we know what his basic problem is, though. And with any luck at all, they'll be solving it right about now."
"Oh?" Jean was filled with curiosity. "You mean you know what his trouble is just like that, and all these years I haven't figured it out?"
"Maybe you wouldn't let yourself see it," he said gently.
Jean didn't understand and he had to laugh at the puzzled look on her face. "I'll take you to see it happen," he offered, "if you promise not to be shocked." This too was a calculated gamble, but Alexander was riding high and he couldn't help but indulge his voyeuristic desires. He wanted to see Stan at the moment of confrontation, and he wanted to watch Jean watch Stan. Maybe she wasn't ready yet but... he decided to take the chance.
"Well, I'll try to promise," Jean said doubtfully. "But I don't see how I can, without knowing what it's all about."
"I'll give you one clue, my dear. You noticed this evening, he was very much attracted to young Karen, didn't you?"
"Yes ... he does have a thing for young girls, I couldn't help but know it."
"Then that's your first clue. Come along, Jean, and we'll see how his sexual education is coming."
Just about the time Jean was accepting her first glass of absinthe, Christy watched her father in the throes of orgasm. It was hard to believe but he seemed completely unaware of her sitting there beside him. Of course he'd smoked dope for the first time in his life and no doubt that messed his head up, she thought. Besides that, he was almost totally exhausted. He didn't have the training or the stamina for sex that you learned in a place like this, and in addition he was so totally confused that it was probably best for him to drop off to sleep like that between bouts.
Personally, Christy was sick of the whole thing. She agreed in theory that squares like her parents should be educated if it were possible, particularly if they were just asking for it like Mom and Pop were. But theory wasn't the same as practice, not when it was your own family! She knew nobody would tease her about her parents. After all, most of the kids came from really straight-type homes like hers, nobody could afford to laugh. But there were two things that worried her particularly and she nibbled her fingernails and thought about them while she watched Karen and Margo working Pop over.
One of the biggest hang-ups was Dave's attitude toward it all. He had gotten so possessive lately that it was bound to make trouble. Just because Alexander had given in to their obvious desire to be together, Dave seemed to take it for granted. And that wasn't right, everybody here understood the rules, including Dave.
Alexander, of course, had first rights on any woman. There was never any dispute about that because every female in the place, including Christy herself, was halfway in love with him. She longed to be summoned one more time to that fantastic bedroom with its huge round undulating bed, and to enjoy with Alexander whatever wild and wonderful sex-sport he dreamed up. She remembered one time in particular, when he'd filled her cunt with whipped cream and then sucked and licked it out. . . just remembering, she shivered with pleasure. The contrast between the cold fluffy cream and his hot tongue . . . wow!
And if any man dreamed of objecting, all the females in the place would have snubbed and scorned him from then on!
The other rules, as far as Christy could see, were pretty loose. You were supposed to be available to at least a couple other men every week, just on general principles. On the other hand, the dudes were available to the chicks. There'd never been any hassle about it. Everybody here was turned on to sex, or they didn't stay long. That was just ordinary common sense.
And when they had parties, a girl was usually pleased to be asked to perform. It was kinky but it was an honor to be chosen to get up on that stage and work out whatever little playlet they'd thought up! After all, you'd have to be reasonably attractive and sexually skilled or you wouldn't turn the others on - and that was the whole idea of the parties!
It was usually the younger, prettier girls who went on stage and Christy didn't think, for instance, that Mom would ever star in a sex show, even if she stayed here long enough.
The financial realities of the place were vague in her mind. Alexander had enough money from somewhere to indulge his pleasure in being surrounded by others who felt as he did. Some of the kids rode the bus into town to their jobs, arid others made sandals, painted or wrote. They'd all banded together here in order to enjoy the kind of life they liked without outside interference. If they couldn't pay the room rent, Alexander let them work it out in helping around the house and gardens. Those were just the basics of living, though. The real fun was in the sex . . .
Christy knew she was thinking all these things in order to avoid concentrating on her real hang-up: her Pop. But the nagging worry kept coming back. There he was, sprawled out and snoring as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if he were home in his own bed. She looked at him critically, trying to find the attitude of an outsider, someone who'd never met him before.
He wasn't a bad-looking man, she had to admit. He wasn't any older than Jerry and she'd balled Jerry lots of times. In fact he was better-looking than Jerry, maybe not now, snoring like this, but awake and smiling. His shoulders were still broad and meaty and although he had a little pouch in his belly, it wasn't as big as lots of men his age. His crisp dark hair curled back with just a thread or two of silver, enough to give him a distinguished look - or so she'd always thought.
Yes, if he were a stranger she'd ball him fast enough!
Alexander had explained it a long time ago, in one of his lectures on sex hang-ups. The incest taboo, he told the group, was a relic of the old days, when property values were the most important thing in life. Other tribes wouldn't allow one particular tribe to intermarry, because then they'd have greater accumulations of cows or sheep or whatever, kept to themselves. And there was the genetic thing, though as she remembered it, Alexander said it was no longer considered a hang-up, except on rare occasions.
Besides - she remembered this quite clearly - since sex was no longer solely for the purpose of reproduction, all those dumb old ideas had to change. She didn't need to have a baby by her father, for heaven's sake!
Then why was she worried and depressed like this? She'd known right along that Alexander intended her father to fuck her. He said it was Pop's biggest hang-up - wanting to, that is - and the sooner he did it and got it over with the better off he'd be.
But he didn't say anything at all about Christy's own hang-ups.
She remembered sitting on his lap a couple years ago, and his actually being afraid to move in case she gave him a hard-on. That was why she did it, of course, to tease him! And - to tell the truth - because she got some kicks from feeling his heavy thighs under her ass and his warm breath on her neck. So, face it, she wanted it as bad as Pop did. Like every little girl, Alexander said, she was jealous of her mother and wanted her daddy all to herself. And that made her feel bad because it was true, she knew it was true. But she still loved her mother anyway!
And if it freaked Mom out, then it would freak Christy out too. Of course Mom was bound to find out about it, with the whole week still ahead of them. And Christy didn't know how to handle that part of it.
She took some comfort in knowing that she didn't have to handle that, or anything else, alone. Everyone from Alexander down to the youngest, newest boarder would be helping her. So she guessed one of her problems really wasn't a problem at all, because she didn't have any choice. Alexander said to do it, and that was that.
On the other hand, Dave was going against the group and that was bound to be a bad scene. You couldn't do that, you couldn't set yourself against the combined judgment and strengths of everybody else living here. But damnit, she loved him so much! She just shivered all over when she thought about his naked body, or even just the way his soft brown hair flopped on his shoulders and the impatient shrug he gave to thrust it back. Everything about him was simply super!
She finally decided there was no use worrying any more, and curled up on the cushions to get some sleep. Margo and Karen would watch Pop and wake her at the right time. That was the biggest comfort of all, not having to worry about making decisions alone or carry them out alone, either.
She was still sleeping when Alexander and Jean tiptoed softly into the room. "He's sleeping again," Jean muttered in disgust.
"He'll be awakened soon enough," Alexander said. "Now promise me one more time, Jean. No matter what happens - you're going to sit there quietly and watch, and not interfere."
She promised, knowing in her heart that it must be something to do with Christy or she wouldn't have to be making all these promises. Either that or they'd be doing something bad, something painful, to Stan - and that she couldn't believe.
Margo and Karen smiled over at them. "Now?" the black-haired girl asked, and Alexander nodded.
For the second time, Stan was awakened by the soft wet touch of a feminine mouth on his cock. The repeated assaults on his senses had confused him, just as Christy thought, until he was losing his awareness of time and place. But he sat up on one elbow and grinned down at the luscious naked girl.
"Lots o' luck, kiddo," he said. "I suspect I'm about played out for the night."
"Oh, no, Stan baby," Karen said. She squatted beside him and kissed his mouth. "One more time, that's all," she coaxed, her little mouth pouting prettily. "Here, have a toke on my joint, it'll help."
He didn't believe that but he'd rather gotten to like the grass, as she called it. It gave him a happy euphoric feeling, unlike the belligerence from too many beers. And he thought, even if he failed to get another hard-on this soon, having his cock licked and his balls tickled was a lot of fun. Regretfully he realized that he'd better try hard, and crowd all the sensation he could into this one week. It'd make the rest of his life seem damned dull, but at least he'd have had this.
Karen cupped his hairy balls in one hand and squeezed gently. "See, Stan, it's beginning to get hard!"
He looked down and sure enough, the old dong looked like it could rise up one more time! His chest swelled visibly as he saw the evidence of his manhood. Not many studs could do it at his age!
Not only his exhaustion but the marijuana and his interest in his masculinity combined to make him unaware of anyone in the room but himself and the two girls. The lighting was cleverly arranged to shine only in the one area, leaving the rest of the room shadowy. This was quite apparent to the watchers, his wife and daughter included. Christy, in fact, was wrestling with her own problem once she'd seen and recognized her mother. She knew the instant that Mom saw her, too, when she heard the quick and quickly hushed gasp from tne far corner of the room.
The idea was, as Jean realized, to get Stan thoroughly involved in sexual activity and then slip Christy in without his knowing. That was why her beautiful blonde daughter was crouched in the background there. She could, spoil the whole tiling. All she needed to do was stand up and say Stan's name. She wouldn't even have to mention Christy's involvement, because she herself being there would be enough to spoil Stan's pleasure. But could she - would she - do it? She glanced at Alexander and saw his hypnotic glance turned on her. "Don't worry," she mouthed, "I understand." He smiled and nodded and she was proud of her control.
"What are you two dolls going to do to me this time?" Stan growled. "Now that you've got me hot and ready!"
"How about a little honest fucking?"
"Yeah . . . and right in the middle, you'll decide I'm not smiling or sucking or something ..."
The two smiled at him. "Don't worry, Stan, you're doing fine. None of those tricks this time, we promise."
If he caught the emphasis on "those" he didn't say anything, but leaned back contentedly.
Karen climbed up over his body, her own scrawny frame looking more childlike than ever by contrast. They knew perfectly well that Stan's favorite position would be the so-called
"missionary position"^so-called, so Alexander said, because no native tribes ever used it until the missionaries came to convert them. But they figured he should be tired enough by now to accept the girl-on-top which was necessary to their plan.
Jean watched, totally fascinated not only by the girls' lack of inhibitions but by their skill. Karen squatted over Stan and with her own fingers, pulled her cuntlips apart and lowered herself gently on his big pole. It was so exciting to see! Jean felt a bit of moisture ooze from her own well-satisfied cunt as the slim child rocked back and forth, managing to take the whole monstrous organ inside her. Jean halfway expected to see it outlined on the spare little tummy!
Karen swayed back and forth until her cuntlips smacked against the base of Stan's belly, and then she rocked in a harder rhythm. Meantime Margo was sprawled beside the big nude body, her arms across Stan's shoulders, her face pressed close. "Let's see if you can kiss as good as you fuck," she said alluringly.
Stan's arms went around the girl and pushed her full titties into his chest, while his tongue snaked into her open laughing mouth. "Uuummm," he gargled, "you taste so good."
Karen, evidently satisfied with her lover's erection, went on to the next act. "Oohhh, just a sec, Stan," she said and pulled herself up and off so swiftly that he hadn't a chance to move.
As if it had been rehearsed - and maybe it was - Christy was there. Spreading her own cuntlips, she slipped onto her father's body and put the head of his cock between those moist hair-lined flanges. Jean gasped, open-mouthed, at the little smile on Christy's face and the accomplished way she proceeded to take all that huge instrument that created her inside herself.
The smile was because Christy had finally decided she did, indeed, want to fuck her own father! At the moment she wanted it more than anything else in the world and even in her excitement she had a minute to be grateful to Alexander for knowing her mind better than she did. Not only that, the thrill was twice as great simply because her mother was watching! It was the kinkiest thing she'd ever done and she trembled with the sheer perverseness of it.
It all happened so quickly that Stan hadn't a chance to move. Margo kept him fully occupied with her kisses and her lascivious tongue and he only grunted in relief when once again his prick was encased in a warm wet sex-sleeve.
Christy spread herself down over his body, wanting the touch of his broad chest on. her tits. Her round little ass bobbed up and down frantically as she fucked him, and his hips moved in an answering motion. As she strained against him, he ground harder into her soft avid flesh, both their bodies rising and falling while she began to make little mewling sounds. She drove him on in a hard-driving rhythm and their crotches met smartly with little slapping noises. God, she wanted him so much. Her whole body was aflame with desire and she spread her arms around his shoulders, trying to take all of him up and into her.
"Move over," she hissed at Margo and the other girl did. Stan reached for the warm bundle in his arms without even opening his eyes! But it was awkward matching her small stature to his, and he rolled over on his side so he could bend his back and bring her closer to him. Christy rolled with him, without a break in the beat. Her curling pink lips found his fastened on them with the strength of her desire. Her mouth opened and her tongue came out boldly, searching all the inner secrets of his mouth.
"Ooohhh," Jean gasped, seeing all at once the reality of the situation. Of course he'd always wanted to fuck Christy - hadn't she always somehow known it? And of course Christy wanted to have her handsome father's loving.
But was Stan ready to accept this knowledge? Holding her breath, almost on the edge of panic, Jean leaned forward to watch.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The whole thing was perverted and lewd and dirty, and Christy loved every minute of it! The blood roared in her veins as she fucked back and forth, feeling her father's huge throbbing prick slide in her tight little hole like an oiled piston. She herself was so wet and ready that, small as her girlish pussy was, he had no difficulty whatsoever in banging in until he was hitting - Christy thought - almost through her body.
She kept her eyes wide open and watched the grimaces her Pop made from excitement, and wondered when he'd look and see what was happening to him. The pleasurable anticipation made her even hotter and little tingles ran up and down her spine.
But he wouldn't open his eyes! Maybe in some deep part of his mind he suspected what was happening and was afraid to find out! Well, that just wouldn't do. He had to know now, while his penis was still deep inside her, when he was so ecstatically involved that he wouldn't be able to stop.
She came surging up against him, biting his lips and sucking on them, her tongue darting in and out in the same rhythm as her hips. Finally she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. He might cum any minute and that would spoil it!
"Darling," she said hoarsely, "you fuck so good I can hardly stand it."
"Uuummm," he grunted, maybe not recognizing the voice.
"Stan. Pop. DADDY!!! LOOK AT ME!!"
And that did it. His eyes flew open and a comical look of complete astonishment came over his face as he recognized the blue eyes just inches from his own, and the sweet contours of her sweet little face. Automatically he slowed, his hips started losing the beat and his jaw dropped open. "Christy" he gasped. "Oh, no, NO!"
But that would never do, he might even lose his hard-on! She dug her fingers fiercely into his asscheeks and pumped harder, forcing him to follow her lead. "Isn't this fun?" she grunted happily.
Whatever anyone else might think, Christy was thoroughly enjoying herself. And she knew darn well that Pop would too, once he forgot all that stupid old shit about incest. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw her mother, bright-eyed and breathing hard, one hand inside Alexander's robe, obviously fondling his prick. Well, that just proved that women were the more sensible sex.
It was so marvelous, so exciting that Christy didn't know if she could stand it or not! She wanted to scream, to cry, to move her ass, to have her daddy pound her harder and harder! Her fingers dug so deep in his flesh that her knuckles turned white.
Stan, on the other hand, was obviously torn between complete horror and the inescapable knowledge that he was enjoying the hell out of himself by fucking his only daughter. How had this ever happened? He cursed that damn dope they gave him to smoke because it must have been that which made him think he was fucking Karen . . . instead of his beautiful pure infant daughter Christina. At the same time he didn't quite believe it was happening. It must be some kind of an evil nightmare, he thought, but if it was, it came complete with sights, scents and the fantastically exciting touching that continued on and on.
He almost lost his erection but then his cock grew again, swelling up longer and thicker than ever before. Somewhere inside he had to admit that he'd always wanted this, craved the touch of his little girl's tits and ass and pussy. That made him some kind of a pervert, he knew. But what did it make his precious child?
Jean, watching, had given herself over to complete pleasure. Her cunt ached and itched and she ground herself against the cushions to give some relief. She could see that rock-hard tool of Stan's charging in and out and her daughter's darling little pussy open and close to receive it. Impulsively - but she couldn't help it - she reached over and found the opening in Alexander's robe again. Shoving her hand inside, she found his limp prick and wrapped her hand around it. She wasn't too skilled yet - she made a mental note to ask him how he liked it - but she rubbed up and down, feeling the smooth shaft grow under her fingers. She enjoyed that but truly, her greatest thrills came simply from watching!
Her feelings were no secret to Alexander and he found himself getting hornier and hornier, but yet had no impulse to do anything about it at the moment. Of all those watching, he knew the most of all the perverted pleasures. When he watched Stan's face change from shock to fear and back to lust, it was as good as if it were happening to himself. He pulled Jean closer to him and slipped his hand in her tunic, massaging her breasts until the tits stood up erectly. The gamble had come out okay, it was going to pay off for him, he knew it! Already the next step in this lecherous plot was unfolding in his mind. What a show that would make for the group, with mother, father and daughter all doing wild, fantastic things to each other . . . and then, to make it really kicky, he could bring in some other perversions, things this innocent family had never thought of yet. He smiled with great self-satisfaction. He was the one who manipulated all these people, pulled their strings as if they were puppets, made them dance to his tune! And the best, the richest part of the joke was that they loved every minute of it!
He watched intently as Stan's face got red and strained. Shit, the man was about to come before Christy! Then he noticed the young girl's frantic gyrations and heaved a sigh of relief. She was all ready too, there was no way either of them could stop what was about to happen.
Christy, for one, didn't want to stop it. She was at her most intense moment, working toward orgasm, her muscles knotting and cramping and begging for release. Then she felt the first warm loosening in her inner vaginal lips . . . and then the ripples spread through her suddenly immobile body. Almost at the same second she felt the jetting heat of her father's jism flooding her cunt. God, they were doing it together. That made her happiness so complete that tears came to her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
Stan had meant, ever since he knew it was
Christy, to pull his cock out of her slit before his climax. Somehow it didn't happen that way. He had some idea in his confused mind that it wouldn't be so bad if he didn't actually cum inside her. He wasn't particularly thinking of pregnancy, it just somehow seemed to make it worse if he shot off his fuck load in his own little daughter's tight cunt. But his orgasm came over him before he knew it and he found himself clutching her tighter, bucking those last irregular strokes, while his heart pounded heavily and all the moisture in his mouth dried up. Licking his contorted lips, he fell back and closed his eyes. He still had some vague hope that he was hallucinating, and when he looked again the beautiful face would turn out to be Karen's piquant one instead. "Daddy! Look at me!"
She hadn't called him "Daddy" in so long, lately it'd been "Pop" in a sort of superior, fun-making way. But it was Christy's voice all right, and he knew the hallucination was still going on. Stan sat up slowly and looked at his daughter. His eyes traveled from her disheveled hair, over her flushed face, down to her young but well-developed breasts and slim waist. She sat cross-legged, panting and smiling, with his seminal fluid staining the insides of her smooth-skinned thighs.
"Christy." He couldn't say any more. He was a broken man.
Jean looked at him and felt pity and love flooding her heart. It was like a bad joke now, as if they'd all contrived to make a fool out of him. Impulsively, without thinking what her presence would do to him, she got up. "Stan! It's all right, really it is!"
He turned his face away from her but not before she caught the look of disgust he gave her.
"Wait, Jean," Alexander said. "You go on with Christy, spend the night in her room. Let me handle this."
Christy too was a little uncertain what to do next. She grabbed a robe that Margo tossed her and put it on. "C'mon, Mom, let's beat it."
The mother and daughter walked hastily out of the room.
"Down here, Mom." Neither of them had much to say, partly out of pure fatigue. They showered quickly and shared the double bed, both of them falling asleep at once.
Judging by the angle of the sun, it was late morning when Jean woke up. She lay in the strange bed for a moment, unable to orient herself, and then the memories came flooding back. My God, had it all really happened? She sat up and looked around.
"Golly, Mom, I thought you'd never wake up! Here, I've got some tea and rolls for you . . . breakfast has been over for ages."
Christy's face was as serene as if it'd all been a bad dream. Jean wondered what she herself looked like, if yesterday's experiences had left their mark on her face. But she couldn't worry about it for a moment, she was much too hungry. The tray was prettily set, with carnations in a vase, and the rolls and cream cheese looked delicious. The tea was some herbal infusion but it was good too. She ate in silence while Christy sat and watched her.
This, Jean realized, was going to be the hardest part yet. She had to have something to say to her daughter, some explanation of her own behavior. All the things she'd believed in and taught the girl had gone out the window as if they'd never existed, and now she didn't have the faintest idea what to say.
"Christy," she began, "about last night. . ."
"Listen, Mom, let's not talk about it, okay? Not yet, anyway. I know you must feel, well, funny about everything. But it'll be okay, really it will. Everything will work out."
"Well," Jean said weakly, "all right then. I don't know what you must think of me, but . . ."
Christy moved to the bedside and gave her mother a hug. "I think you're absolutely neat, that's what. A super mother! I can hardly wait for you to meet Dave - he's my boy friend."
"Oh! You have a boy friend?"
"Yes . . . you'd have met him already, but - well, he's kinda pissed off at me right now. But that'll be okay."
"He lives here too?"
"Yeah ... oh rats, I've got to run! They're waiting for me in the kitchen. I'll see you this afternoon, Mom. Keep your cool!"
She headed for the door, looking fresh and sweet in her jeans and shirt, with her hair in two tight pigtails. "Oh, almost forgot," she said. "Alexander wants to talk to you soon as you feel like it. Find your way okay?"
"Yes." Jean discovered that someone had moved her suitcases from the bedroom she'd been assigned to with Stan. Well, that was thoughtful since she had only this robe to put on! She began to dress slowly, thinking all the time.
She put on bra and panties, shirt and flare-pants, and found a simple pair of sandals in her bag. Somehow she didn't feel like wearing all the jewelry and make-up that she usually wore. She looked in the mirror and decided she looked younger and prettier just as she was.
Her sense of guilt and remorse was almost overwhelming - not for anything she'd done herself, though. She felt completely unable to think of her sexual activities as anything but delightful and healthful. But Stan - that was a different thing.
She'd known for a long time, deep inside her, that Stan had a most unfatherly sexual lust for his little daughter. All the incestuous evidence was as plain to see as her hand in front of her face. The way he always acted about Christy's boy friends was nothing but male sexual jealousy! And that was what had partly driven the child away from home too. Then, when Christy was gone, the way Stan refused to have any sex with his wife, that was a dead giveaway! It was as if he were saving himself for the younger woman, or maybe he thought of it as a kind of charm to keep Christy as true to him as he was to her.
Jean didn't suppose for a minute that Stan was unusual or a real pervert of some kind. She suspected that a lot of men had those kinds of feelings for their girls, but they managed to suppress them just as he'd done - more or less.
She began to see that it was a cruel thing they'd done to Stan in forcing him to recognize his unnatural need - and especially in such a dramatic fashion! Besides, the audience he'd had must have hurt his ego even more. She had a feeling that she'd bought some real trouble for herself and her marriage. How was Stan ever going to be able to face himself, much less her?
She wouldn't have been surprised to hear that he'd packed up already and moved back home. Or, worse yet, had gotten his things from the big old boarding house and found a room or apartment somewhere. In spite of all her complaints about him, she didn't want that to happen. Life without Stan would be - well, it was simply unthinkable!
She walked over to the main building, hoping that Alexander had managed to work some miracle over night. Otherwise, Jean was very much afraid that her pleasant if unexciting life was due for some bad changes. After all was said and done, she loved her husband. The memory of his hurt was bound to hurt her, too.
"Why so serious this morning, sweet Jean? Were we, um, too much for you last night?"
She blinked in the sunshine and saw Alexander standing in the doorway, waiting for her. He looked very ordinary in his jeans and striped shirt - at least, until one met his startling blue eyes directly.
"Come on in." He guided her to a chair in his big room, still shadowy even in daylight. "Do you need to look so gloomy? The world isn't going to come to an end just because you got fucked in the ass last night!"
His blunt statement shocked her out of her preoccupation. "Oh,, Alexander, it isn't that! I'm okay. I'm just worried about Stan."
"You're sure?"
"Oh, yes! I never was as rigid or puritanical as Stan, I'm afraid. If it weren't for worrying about him, I'd feel - well, I'd be feeling great today! I needed that - I guess you know."
"Yes, I rather gathered that. That's good, my dear, and you are an amazing woman. Not many would dare admit they enjoyed themselves, without a lot of phony shit. I'm proud of you!"
"Well, I'm not proud of myself. Not after what we did to Stan."
"You mustn't worry so, he'll be all right. We didn't talk much last night, it was too late and he was exhausted. He's still sleeping, by the way. But I'm sure he'll be all right."
Jean wished she could be that sure. But Alexander was still talking and she brought her mind back with a wrench.
". . . will absolutely be all right! I'm so positive of it, my dear, that I've planned a little celebration for tonight. Your coming-out party, as it were."
She had to laugh in spite of herself. Coming-out party indeed! But she let herself relax into hopefulness and listened to the rest of the plans.
"... you've been such a good sport, you're quite popular today with our young people! In fact, they've petitioned me to let them turn you on, as they say. But that's up to you. Oh, I forgot you aren't familiar with the jargon. They mean get you to smoke a marijuana cigarette with them. They say - and I'm quoting - you're a 'natural born head,' how about that?"
"I don't know." But Jean's normal liveliness and curiosity were coming back. "What else is planned?"
"A small . . . exhibition. In which I'm hoping you'll take part. I'm sure you've lost all your silly inhibitions, if you ever truly had any. And I as good as promised you wouldn't let us down ... as I say, the young folk think you're the neatest adult around!"
Flattery will get you every place, she thought; but why not? Suddenly feeling reckless, she said, "Whatever it is, count me in! That's if Stan's okay, of course. If he isn't - well, I wouldn't let him go home without me."
"Understood." Alexander was having another of his inner debates with his own recklessness. Did he dare tell Jean exactly what the exhibition would be? Or - did he dare put her up on that stage without telling her?
If he could have decided which of the two were more dangerous, he'd undoubtedly choose that! His success with this finally had given him a heady sense of power and even as he warned himself not to get over-confident, he knew that everything would work out handsomely.
While he hesitated, he heard some sort of commotion outside. Angry voices, one of them surely Christy's, and the other? He couldn't be sure. Jean had risen in alarm, hearing her daughter's shrill tones.
". . . and personally, I'm fed up with both of you!" the girl shouted.
Jean beat him to the door. She saw Christy, her face flushed with anger, facing Stan and a young man she didn't remember noticing before. Stan was smiling, arrogant, his fists on his hips, his feet planted firmly. She knew that look! Whatever he was up to, he was going, into it bullheadedly, confident and ready to win. All her worries for him disappeared on the instant.
The young man, dressed in the universal jeans and sweatshirt, was plainly very angry. He was trying to say something to Christy, but she wouldn't listen. He grabbed her arm, and Stan stepped up and grabbed his. Jean ran quickly between them.
"What is all this?" She was as exasperated as could be, at having worried so about Stan earlier. Obviously he could more than take care of himself. "Who are you, young man?"
"I'm Dave. I'm Christy's boy friend! And if this horny old guy doesn't keep his hands off her, I'll-"
"That's her father, Dave!"
"Tell him about it! He doesn't seem to know."
"Now, now! Christy and Dave, you come in my study. Stan, I'll be with you in a minute." Somehow Alexander managed to calm the three down somewhat and separate the two men. Naturally Jean followed them into the study; she had a right to hear what this was all about.
"What is it, Christy? What's going on?"
"I'm so disgusted I could scream! At both of them! First Dad, Mom, he came right in the kitchen and - rats, I hate to tell you this!"
"Go on."
"He acted just awful! He came in the room and just grabbed me by my tits and kissed me! And he said something about - he told me I was the best piece of ass he'd had in years, and what were we waiting for?"
Jean's heart sank. To her it was obvious that Stan felt humiliated and was going to bluster his way out of it. But, would anyone else see it as she did?
Alexander broke in. "We understand the picture, Christy. Now tell us how Dave got into it."
"I'll tell you myself!" The young man stood defiantly and Jean had to admire his handsome face and bold bearing. Leave it to Christy to pick a good one! "I saw what the old goat was up to and I told him to keep his hands off my girl!"
"Dear me, dear me," Alexander said nervously.
"I'm sick of all this," Dave concluded. "Chris is my girl and from now on nobody else is going to fuck her but me!"
This was the one thing Alexander had most dreaded, that some personal jealousy would enter their happy ranks. And now here it was - and to make it worse, it was involved with this bizarre triangle.
"How about you, Christy?" Jean said. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," the girl said miserably. "Dad did act just terrible and I don't blame Dave for being angry. But you know Pop, Mother. He just had to assert himself after last night. He'll be all right."
"I know he will."
"But - " the young girl hesitated and then went on, looking everywhere but at Dave. "I love Dave, Mom. But. .. I'm not ready to leave here. And that's what it means, doesn't it, Alexander? If we want to be exclusive, we . . . have to leave."
He looked at her sadly. "I'm afraid it does, my dear."
CHAPTER NINE
"How can you be so cruel to me, Dave?" Christy asked sadly. "After all, you were the one who brought me here, the one who convinced me this was the way to live, and now ..."
Jean couldn't suppress a gasp. So that was it! She and Stan had wondered so often how and why Christy had run away, and what impelled her to take up a life so foreign to the way she was brought up.
"How could that be, Chris?" she said. "We'd never even heard of Dave . . . and now it turns out he's been very important to you."
"I met him at a rock concert," Christy said. "I fell in love with him right away. But he never would come to the house or take me out on dates. He said - rats, Dave, you know you did! You said this was the only way to live! And if I wouldn't go along with it, then I didn't really love you."
"That's absolutely true," Alexander said. "I remember all too well. I had my doubts about Christy. She looked so young... I was worried that we might all get in trouble over it. But Dave was very persuasive."
"He sure persuaded me," Christy said bitterly.
"They stood here hand in hand, like a couple of beautiful children in a fairy tale." Alexander sighed when he thought about it. "I believe Christy was still a virgin at that time. Dave refused to touch her unless she believed as he did."
"You know damn well I was a virgin, Alexander. You were the first one - even before Dave."
They all looked at Dave. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes but stood his ground stubbornly. "So I was wrong. As time went on I came to see that I was wrong, and now I'm sure of it."
"Well, I'm not going off with you and that's that."
The young man swung on his heel and charged out the door. "I'll be around if you change your mind," he called over his shoulder.
Christy shed a few tears and Alexander was touched. The poor child, he thought. I'd better console her myself. Without a word to anyone, he took her arm and led her toward the bedroom door.
Jean was left standing, wondering what to do next. She wandered out into the sunshine and looked around the compound. Stan was gone and she didn't care about that either, except to be remotely glad that someone was coping with her daughter's emotional upset. She felt strangely blank and yet peaceful. So much had happened to her in the past twenty-four hours that she'd overdrawn all her emotional reserves. She'd spent a lifetime paying service to one set of ideals and in the wink of an eye, practically, they had disappeared. She had nothing to guide herself by except what little she'd picked up of Alexander's philosophy, which seemed to put all its emphasis on sexual and physical pleasure. Beyond that there was - nothing.
The courtyard she stood in was very attractive, with masses of flowers and a fountain tinkling in the middle. Pleasures for the eye, pleasures for the ear. She thought perhaps she'd go back to Christy's room and lie down for a while . . .
"Jean! Hey there, Jean!"
It was one of the little girls who'd been with Stan the night before, the one with the dark hair: Margo.
"We wondered where you were! Are you busy now? Some of the kids wanted to meet you."
And why not? She was part of the traveling freak show, if not the star then an important supporting player. No doubt they'd all had plenty to talk about with Christy's father and mother turning on to sex, incest and assorted perversions. But all the same Jean felt the warmth and friendliness in the girl's smiling face.
"Okay, Margo. I'd like to meet them."
The girl chatted as she led the way back into the big barn and down one of the corridors. "Say, wasn't Stan just too much once he got going? I mean, we all thought he was such a heavy duty dude in the beginning . . . but he sure got with it in a hurry!" She added wistfully, "Christy's really lucky! My folks would make such bad scenes if they ever came here ..."
Christy, lucky? Jean guessed it was all in your viewpoint. She followed Margo into a big room filled with lively chattering young people, ranging from the pre-pubescent Karen to - she looked away quickly - a handsome young man who turned out to be Dave.
"Jean! We're so glad you're here! Let me introduce you - this is Buzzy, there with the shades on. Joseph, Carmela, Herb. And you already know Karen and Dave."
"I'll never remember your names," Jean said, smiling from one to the other. "But, Hi, anyhow."
"You'll know us in time," Buzzy said, blinking behind his big gold-rimmed dark glasses. "What better way to get acquainted than smoking a little dope together, right?"
Jean's feeling of emptiness disappeared. Why, Alexander was right, these kids did genuinely like her! She wasn't quite sure why, it didn't seem to her that she'd made a very admirable figure so far. But their warmth and friendliness were so genuine, she couldn't help but be flattered.
"Why not?" she said recklessly. "But you'll have to tell me what to do. I remember the first time I smoked a cigarette, I felt ridiculous. I didn't even know how to handle it."
"No problem," they assured her. "It'll come easy to you, because you're so cool."
Jean felt better and better! Her acceptance by this group was so unexpected - she hadn't even tried. But if she were really that "cool" then she'd have to live up to it!
"I just finished rolling," Carmela said, scooping up some of the narrow cigarettes and putting them in a box. "This is really righteous shit, Jean."
"How neat, getting virgin kicks!"
"Super, Jean, we'll have your cherry!"
She watched as they lighted a joint, passed it, lighted another and another. When the first one came to her, she took it the way they had and inhaled deeply. "Right on, Jean!"
"Hold the smoke in, babe!"
"Take a good toke!" The circle of faces turned toward her were so open, friendly and innocent. Even Dave watched eagerly, as if willing her to enjoy this in-group treat as much as they did. It struck her forcefully that they were really taking her into their society, without reservations or doubts, and that it was - in their minds - an important and exclusive ceremony. She had the feeling that she had to live up to their trust, but she wasn't sure exactly how to do it. But she knew she couldn't let them down. She inhaled deeply, knowing her face was getting red with the indrawn breath, and was rewarded by their smiles of approval. She remembered what Stan sometimes said: different strokes for different folks. But he never truly understood the meaning of it as she was beginning to do.
Then they began to chatter among themselves, about their various projects, about who was cooking what for dinner, about how nice the weather had turned. Jean sat back and relaxed, letting the talk flow over her head, taking a toke when the number went by, letting herself go with the rhythm of the group. She felt the corners of her mouth trying to turn up as if she simply had to smile, and noticed the look of happiness on all their faces.
"Jean. Can I talk to you a minute?"
She hadn't even noticed Dave move around the room, but there he was sitting next to her. "Why sure, Dave. I'm sorry that things turned out the way they did for you and Christy." She could see the look of unhappiness on his face. "Have you really changed your ideas that much?"
"No, not really. Just in relation to Christy, I guess."
She didn't know it was right for Christy to stay here or to go off with Dave.
"It's my fault, I know that. I completely convinced her because I was convinced myself. Now, I don't know. I'm so confused. Like the exhibition this evening. If Christy weren't in it, I'd really dig it - seeing you and Stan and your daughter, and all the rest of it. There's something so kinky about the dogs . . . but because it is Christy, I don't know if I can take it."
"Exhibition?" She felt a little alarmed although she recalled Alexander saying something about it. Had she promised to take part? She couldn't really remember.
"Golly, did I say the wrong thing? I thought you knew. But don't worry, you'll like it."
She couldn't help noticing the little dimple that came and went in his cheek when he talked, and the way his brown eyes seemed to sparkle even when he was sad. She was attracted to all these kids, she told herself. Nobody could be with so much youthful health and exuberance without enjoying it. Certainly she wasn't like Stan, she couldn't possibly be attracted to Christy's boy friend. But he certainly was a handsome young man.
He took her hand and held it, playing with the fingers while he told her how much he loved Christy. "She looks a lot like you, Jean. Now I know where she gets her blue eyes and good figure."
Jean sneaked a quick glance around the room; nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. And that was good, because she knew she was smiling at this handsome young man more than she should, and leaning closer to him than necessary.
"I like your hair like that, without all the spray," he said, his other hand going up to caress the little tendrils around her neck. "Whatever happens with Christy and me, I'm glad you came here and - well, got your head together. Right now, you're just about the most together person I know."
"I don't feel 'together,' " she confessed. "I don't know what's expected of me, or even what I want to be or do."
"Whatever turns you on, as they say." He leaned still closer and his lips brushed hers gently.
He was so close that she felt the heat of his body and then his hands, one on the back of her neck and the other on her hip, turned her to face him. His cheek rubbed against hers and she felt his smooth warm mouth kissing her jawline and throat and cheeks. All her senses were totally awake and aware. She'd never felt so alive in her life before, every inch of her. Was that what the marijuana did to you? She licked her lips, wanting his mouth on them. Her cunt too was hot and alive, damp with the juices that seeped from inside with automatic demand. She slipped a hand under his arm, close against his ribcage.
"Oh, Jean, you're so beautiful... I want you so much."
She could say nothing but the truth. "I want you too, Dave. But - we can't do this, can we?"
"Why not?" He stood up quickly, pulling her to her feet with him. She let him lead her out of the room, and nobody else seemed to notice. Seconds later they were in the cushioned and curtained little room where - it seemed a million years ago - Christy had seduced and fucked her father.
"Dave." She stood facing him, still reluctant in spite of the way her body seemed to melt toward his masculine frame. "This isn't something to do with Chris, is it? I mean, are you trying to show her how you feel by . . . making love ... to her mother?"
"How can you ask that?" he demanded tenderly. "Any man who saw you would want you. Ask Buzzy, Joseph! It just happened to be me who got to you first, that's all."
Jean was satisfied in her mind, and now her body demanded its own form of satisfaction. She stood erect, sucking in her tummy as much as possible, wanting to look young and lovely to him. He unbuttoned each button, slowly, stopping to kiss her in between. By the time he'd gotten to the zipper in her pants, she was wild with desire. He slipped the flares down off her hips and she kicked them away from her ankles. "Such beautiful tits," he murmured as he unhooked her bra. "You shouldn't ever wear a bra, Jean, and keep the poor little things confined like that." Her breasts sprang out boldly when he tossed the bra aside and he kissed each one in turn.
"I was thinking about this, about sucking and kissing and fucking you," he confessed, "even when we were having that big scene this morning. I guess that's terrible, but - "
Terrible or not, it was flattery no woman could resist. She was embarrassed by the look of her cotton panties and as he shoved them down off her ass, she resolved to buy something sexier soon.
"Lie down there, Jean."
She sank onto the cushions while he quickly shucked off his clothes. The sight of his youthful body gave her a perverse thrill as she realized all over again that this was her daughter's boy friend, that he was young, that he wanted her desperately! The mat of brown hair curling on his chest thrilled her too, she wanted to kiss and bite at it. Then as his shorts dropped and his erection sprang into view, she couldn't help her gasp of delighted approval. No wonder women took young lovers! God, he was so beautiful! That smooth skin, tanned as was everyone here, that mat of dark pubic hair, and most of all - the enormous cock that arched out proudly. She'd never dreamed that a man could have such a tremendous organ. It stood out like the branch of an oak tree, blue-veined against the thick white skin. The head looked as big as her fist, smooth too, and glowing a rosy red. Even her mature pussy would have some trouble accommodating it! She wondered how Christy ever managed ..."
He knelt in front of her and took her by the back of her knees, shoving them over her head so she was completely exposed. She knew her pussy was warm and wet, dripping in fact, and loved his delighted smile when he saw the same thing.
"You're all woman," he said, "and what a woman! We don't have to play games, do we, Jean? You're ripe and ready for fucking now!"
And she was. She didn't want to fool around either, she wanted his hot meat inside her just as quickly as possible. She knew that was a result of her erotic experiences of the night before and she was glad of it. As he said, she was a real woman! She laughed out loud and said, "That's right, Dave! Don't waste time!"
Even so he was too slow for her, but slow in such a maddeningly delightful way that she couldn't complain. The head of his cock rubbed against the pink hair-lined flanges of her cunt, gathering the rich lubricating moisture. She knew without having to see that her outer vaginal lips were fluttering, trying to capture and draw in that fist-sized head. He rubbed up and down while she writhed in frustrated heat, until finally he put it right in that small opening that gaped wide for it.
Then she remembered the fantastic size of his cock and shut her eyes, clenched her hands, in half-frightened anticipation. His huge staff slid in slowly but steadily, and for a moment there was a trace of pain . . . but then it was all the way in, filling her cunt so completely that she felt impaled on its throbbing strength. When it hit her cervix, a shuddering sigh burst from her contorted lips.
Jean didn't consciously figure that he was young and therefore not frightening, or that she'd learned some things that could give both of them more pleasure, or that she was going to experiment a bit. Nonetheless all those things were present in the back of her mind. She'd been more or less passive with Jerry and Alexander, as she always was forced to be with Stan. But no more! She shoved forward and at the same time she manipulated her muscles, her inner muscles, gripping his hard staff and releasing it, twitching the muscle around her clitoris to bring it up against the base of his belly. She didn't know how she knew to do those things, they seemed completely natural.
The effect on Dave was sensational. He felt his swollen cock being gripped as by a giant hand, but a hand so richly moist and slick that it slithered over the surface at the same time it held and alternately loosened. It was like a stab in the gut, a pleasure so sharp, he was hardly able to bear it. He came forward strongly, the tops of his thighs beating against her upturned ass, and felt the ultimate pleasure of his incredible cockhead beating against the hard muscular ring of her cervix. Hardly able to breathe, he pulled it back and then surged it forward again-. His hands gripped her tits as if they were handles, guiding her body in response to his hard-fucking stroke.
It was like a contest, a battle, a total war. They struggled against each other in perfect rhythm, shoving hard and releasing, pounding and pounding. When he felt under a little control, he changed his stroke and directed his cock against the side walls of her vagina in little circles, first this way then that. He watched her face^ seeing every minute change in expression, glorying in the fantastic pleasure he was giving her as much as his own thrills.
"God, I could go on like this forever," he said hoarsely.
Jean smiled". She knew damn well she could go on almost forever, at least until sheer exhaustion made her stop. She felt as women have always felt, when they had a chance, that no one man would ever be enough for her. She felt her inner vaginal lips gather and twitch and then explode outward in a minor orgasm. How wonderful to have it, and to know that there were dozens more left inside her! It was no wonder men held women in such rigid control, no wonder they started that arrogant lie about women not really liking sex! If they ever admitted the truth, or let women admit it to themselves, their precious egos would be in bad shape indeed!
She let herself relax a little, ready to cum again when he did, but deliberately not building her passion any higher. It would be too uncomfortable for her afterward. But she'd forgotten, or really didn't know, the difference between a heavy-hung boy of twenty - at the height of his sexual powers - and a much-fucked man like Stan.
Dave fucked on and on and she had to let go, had to cum in a moment or two, and again . . . and again! Dave pulled her to him and fell on his side and they fucked on. He moved again, putting her on top of him, and Jean really loved that. She discovered that she could sit on him heavily and make little sliding motions back and forth that brought her some of the same sensations as when Alexander had fucked her in the ass. And evidently that pressure on Dave's balls gave him almost unbearable thrills, too, because he squeezed her hips in his powerful hands and moaned his pleasure.
That was really too intense to last long. He put his hands under her ass and bounced her up and down. This was delightful in a whole new way, because with each downward bounce her clit received an exciting slap on its sensitive surface.
"Oh, God, this is tooo much!" Dave groaned. "Jean, Jean, you darling . . . I'm going to cum soon!"
Gasping and panting, her hair flying around her lust-swollen face, Jean thought it was time! She squeezed her inner muscles again as if she were squeezing the jism right out of him, and felt the instant orgasm that triggered. His prick hit harder and harder for a minute and then he stiffened and lunged and the words "oh, Jeeezzzuusss!" were torn from his throat. It was fantastic to feel the hot jism spurting and steaming right in the middle of the biggest climax she thought she'd ever had.
They fell apart on the carpet except for their joined genitals as the blood pounded heavily in Dave's temples and his fantastic cock began slowly to wilt. Jean's skin was slick with a film of sweat, and so was his.
It was over. They lay loose and limp, and Jean gave his cock one last twitch before it slid slowly out of her cum-filled hole.
Dave rose on an elbow and looked at her, and his voice was almost reverent when he said, "And you've had all that inside of you all these years? And never had a chance to use it! Can that possibly be true?"
"It's true all right, even if I have trouble believing it myself."
He shook his head. "It's no wonder men can't understand women. You've either got such super control that you're not human, or . . ."
She grinned at him. "Or what?"
"Don't be mad. But how come you've been so dumb?"
It was an interesting conversation, one she wanted to explore but"didn't have any real answers to. 'I just don't know, Dave. If I knew, I'd tell you. It's like we - women - have been under such total control for so long. But I don't really blame men like Stan, either. He didn't set out to make me a zombie. He simply did the same thing I did, believed what I was told."
"Yeah. The world's really fucked, isn't it?"
She had to admit he was right. The world was fucked, crazy, cockeyed. Nobody did what they really wanted to do. Worse, they never had a chance to find out what it was they really wanted.
"You know what I'd like, don't you? I'd like to wait half an hour and do it all over again. But we hadn't better."
"Why not?"
"The group'll never forgive me if I've tired you out so much you can't enjoy yourself tonight. Matter of fact, I couldn't forgive myself either. This is going to be a night to remember!"
Jean thought that she'd never actually agreed to this "exhibition" they were all looking forward to so much. But it seemed now as if it were taken for granted. Well, she didn't think she'd mind. It meant that she'd be exploring further her introduction to real sexuality, and that she couldn't resist. She felt lazy, contented but not to the point that she couldn't respond again - later.
She was afraid of it - had somebody mentioned animals? - but not so afraid as she was of losing a chance to enlarge upon her education.
"We'd better nap a while," she said. "If I'm gonna be the star performer, I want to live up to my billing."
CHAPTER TEN
Jean was a star performer, all right, but she wasn't the only one. The boarders had all heard about Stan's obsession with his only daughter, and how it had finally been consummated. But, hearing about it wasn't enough. They had to see for themselves. Stan, after last night's orgy, felt he could give them a show that they'd never seen before. Hadn't he gotten it up time after time with those young girls?
Besides, now that he was let free of his inhibitions and could, or so he thought, do as he liked, what he liked most was more and more of Christy's little tight cunt. He'd been after her all day, she complained, "like a dog after a bitch in heat." Every step she took he dogged her footsteps. She thought she lost him several times, but he always turned up around the next corner, reaching for her, fondling her ass or tits or whatever he could reach, commanding her to look at the bulge in his trousers - "All for you, Christy, all for you."
On Alexander's advice, Christy didn't even give him a taste. Alexander, of course, was thinking of that night's performance and he could see how helpful it would be to have Stan right at the peak of his sexual powers.
None of this interplay was of much concern to Jean. She'd been told in vague terms what was expected of her, and she knew that Alexander would be at her side with more definite directions. She rested, showered, ate, rested again. She felt like a race horse in training or an actress with her first big role coming up. In the evening she walked into the big room with Margo, Karen and the rest of them. Their advice had been to stay stoned, and it seemed like an excellent idea. Joseph produced some hashish and a pipe and they all had a taste, and then another. The grass circulated freely and Jean again got a sensation of happiness, so that her mouth turned up at the corners and she could hardly keep from laughing out loud. It did all seem like a joke. Jean, of all people, performing in a sex show! She remembered to tell the young folks about her masturbation fantasies and they all laughed with her.
The room was darkened except for a spotlight rigged right in the center of the big room. And who should be sitting in the spotlight, grinning like a maniac, but Stan! He wore the same clothes as the kids, jeans and sweat shirt, and looked completely at home.
Some kind of rock music was playing on the amplifiers as a couple of the boys brought in what looked like a double bed. It had a unique feature, Jean saw, and she quickly figured it out. The bed was slanted, the legs at the head being longer than those at the foot. It was obviously to give a better view to the spectators, who sat on the floor around the "stage."
There was nothing complicated about what happened first. Stan watched while Christy did a sensuous strip tease, dancing one of those wild dances that the kids did nowadays. The last one Jean could remember hearing about was called the frug, but that was evidently so far in the past that none of the kids had ever heard of it. Anyhow, Christy danced like an erotic dervish, snapping her pelvis back and forth, looking for all the world like a go-go dancer on television - but more sensual. She danced around Stan in a teasing fashion, all her gestures and hip-snappings obviously directed at him.
It would have been a good show at any time, but the fact that everybody knew of their relationship and of Stan's sexual passion for his little daughter gave it deeper meaning and sensuality.
When Christy was finally stripped naked, Jean couldn't help but admire her little girl's perfect body. The gently sloping shoulders, the breasts that rose so high and perfect, the coral-colored nipples, might have been those of the best of the famous Playmates. And her waist curved in and out so cunningly, her hips flaring just enough to emphasize the triangular patch of crisp golden curls.
Whatever was supposed to happen next, Jean never knew because Stan took matters into his own hands. The sight of his beautiful young daughter's naked body was more than he could stand! Actually drooling at the mouth, he stood up and stripped off his clothes.. He was in such a hurry that he never did get entirely free of one pantleg and he dragged the jeans after him by one ankle. He couldn't care less! Grabbing Christy around the waist, he pulled her to him and kissed her passionately on the mouth. The cone of light shone down on their naked bodies - Stan looking like a satyr, Christy like a delicate woods nymph, with her cloud of pale golden hair floating around her shoulders.
The audience was quiet, rapt and totally fascinated. They all did a lot of fucking, after all it was their main reason for existence. But this was something different. They were used to the light-hearted, casual sex play where the only emotions were physical ones. Even the youngest child could hardly remember ever being caught up in such overwhelming emotions as they could read on Stan's face.
"My baby, my dear little baby," he muttered thickly. "Daddy's going to take care of you . . ."
Christy too seemed to generate electricity, as if it were more than a show, more than a perverse challenge. She pulled her head back and tears filled her eyes as she murmured, "Oh, Daddy, I've waited so long!"
The music pounded on with its harsh insistent beat as Stan led his daughter by the hand to the big slanted bed. He helped her lie on it and then raised her knees, spreading them akimbo. It was perfectly obvious to everyone in the room that he was about to gratify a deep and long-established need: to actually, personally, look at the miracle of his girl's genitals. He caressed the pink flanges with his hands and lips, sucking and kissing. He traced the crease back behind her buttocks, playing for a moment with her asshole.
The audience of course couldn't see all this, with Stan's broad back blocking their view. But they were so caught up in the moment it was as if they did see, and did experience, each of Stan's ecstatic satisfactions.
And then he mounted her - bull-like, carefully but crudely, in the despised old-fashioned "missionary position." This group was quite accustomed to making loud ribald comments and even audible complaints, as Jean was to discover. But then it was as if they held their collective breaths, and the only sound to be noticed was the slurping noise as Stan fucked his prick into her cunt.
Jean was grateful for that, at least. In spite of everything Stan was still her husband, they'd been together for twenty years and she knew he was basically a good man, even sensitive in his own way. She could imagine that he planned how he could fuck Christy, how he'd give them a show they'd always remember. Several of the young people, in fact, had repeated his boasts. But faced with the actuality, he couldn't do it. The night before didn't really count. They'd played with him, tricked him, made a game out of him. This, to Stan, was his first real connection with the girl and everybody there knew it. So they kept a respectful silence while her father fucked her. The genuine emotions involved and the tenderness in his face more than made up for the lack of acrobatics.
They watched while his asscheeks tightened and released, they saw when his cum swept over him and the silence was complete except for whatever small noises the couple made plus the heavier breathing that became apparent from the audience. Some of them, Jean knew, were more excited by this simple scene than they'd been in a long, long time.
Then it was over. Stan stood up with a dazed look on his face, gave his hand to Christy, and walked out of the light. He was supposed to stay a while. Alexander thought it would be kicky to have Jean join the scene for an encore, actually the one to suck Stan into another erection and actually be the one to help place Stan's cock in her daughter's cunt. But it wasn't going to happen.
"Maybe later," the bearded leader whispered in her ear, and she nodded.
The audience stirred restlessly and Alexander judged their temper correctly. They were almost embarrassed by the tenderness of the scene they'd just witnessed, and they wanted some relief from emotions that were pitched too high. Always the gambler, he threw aside his planned program and improvised. Jean found herself whirled to the floor, her long, all-enveloping robe cast aside. Alexander picked up her feet and hoisted her toward him, his ever ready cock slipping easily into her wet gaping cunt.
His voice rose over the crowd's. "Well, that was two thirds of the family. The other third - I regret to tell you - has suddenly turned into a wheelbarrow!" To Jean, he hissed, "Walk with your hands!"
Everybody laughed as they came out into the light, Jean making walking motions with her hand while Alexander guided her from behind with his hands on the calves of her legs. She was high enough herself by then to see the humor in it, and laughed along with them, turning her face from side to side. Shouts of "Jean! Jean!" came from the group and she felt their affection as a real living warmth surrounding her.
Alexander dropped her feet and she slid down off his cock as if it were a greased pole. He helped her up and she smiled and bowed to her friends, blowing kisses like a circus queen.
"We're going to have an exhibition here in a minute," Alexander said genially, "but meantime, how about a friendly little fuck? That okay with you, Jean?"
"Sure," she said, sucking in her stomach while he led her to the bed and positioned her very carefully on her back. His huge cudgel dangled between his balls as he crawled over her. She felt someone push a pillow under her buttocks that raised her pelvis high. The crowd was laughing and snickering, and Jean wondered if they wouldn't get bored with just a "friendly fuck." But her worries were allayed a moment later - and she had to admit she did worry about losing her audience's approval! - as she saw Jerry come out of the crowd and climb on the bed.
Squatting over her head, facing Alexander, Jerry let his big but still-limp dong dangle in front of her chin. "I've got this problem, Jean," he said loudly. "I can't seem to get it up any more . . . can you help?"
"She can do it!"
"Go, Jean!"
"That's cool, Jean, blow him!"
He lowered himself more until the flaccid flesh slipped right in between her rosy smiling lips. She was glad it was Jerry! He was such a sweet guy . . . and his was the first penis she'd ever sucked! She took the head in her mouth, pushing at the loose skin with her tongue and feeling almost instant swelling. Down below, Alexander was slipping his cock into her ready pussy, settling in with little circular movements that created delightful pressure on her clit. Her nose pressed against Jerry's balls, his prick getting even larger and filling her throat, she wondered how she'd breathe. But somehow it all worked out.
The sheer excitement of it made her cum almost immediately, and that brought cheers from her audience.
That first quick cum left her so hot and wet that she had to buck up and down against Alexander's cock at the same time that she sucked lustfully on Jerry's. The thrill was unbelievable! All of her senses seemed involved in the most intricate and devastating sensuality she'd ever known. Two men at once - fantastic! She'd never known it could happen and her body went way out of control, moving and wriggling in constant motion. She could no more help her responses than she could have halted the tides or made the moon stand still! Her body bent and arched like a golden bow, she was completely lost in her lascivious sensations.
It was, in fact, several seconds before she became aware of something else happening down there, and it took more time for her to separate and localize those feelings. There was a soft, warm weight in the crease of her buttocks that. . . What's this? It must be . . . The thought was lost at a sudden pain that subsided quickly, leaving an indescribable thrill. It's somebody's cock in my ASS!
Completely filled, stuffed, her mouth and cunt and asshole occupied to their fullest extent, Jean simply gave up and went with it. "Ooohhhh! Uuuunnnhhh!" she moaned. She was so filled with different sensations that it was impossible to differentiate one from the other!
Jerry grinned down at her writhing body. He hadn't been sure how Jean would go for this public exposure. Some women would take the triple invasions as an insult, a humiliation. He should have had more faith in her! When she did something she did it all the way! He couldn't help it, he was halfway in love with this newly liberated woman who gave herself so thoroughly to the thrills of sex. He felt the same thing Jean did, the almost visible wave of warmth and affection flowing between her and the assembled group. We've got to keep her here with us - even if it means keeping that husband of hers too! And even he won't be so bad once he gets over his incest hang-up. Yes, Jean belongs with us!
By no coincidence at all, young Joseph was thinking-the same thing. It was his cock - chosen basically for its relatively small size - that penetrated Jean's almost virgin asshole. He patted her affectionately on the thigh, glad he could be part of this love-in. It wasn't too much fun looking at Alexander's naked back as the powerful leader bounced up and down, but it wasn't so bad either. All of them were tied together by such strong bonds that the whole experience was beyond belief.
Jean had no more thoughts at all. Everything was pure sensation, more ecstatically thrilling than she'd ever known before. Her body was buffeted between one hard invading male prick and the next, but all of it added up to the ultimate in physical pleasure. It seemed to her that she passed through the ordinary excitement of fucking into some secret depth of feeling that welled from her very soul. Slammed back and forth, up and down, her cunt and mouth and asshole equally invaded, she lost all sense of time and place. Her over-strained nerve-endings were all-dominant, shutting off her mind so that it was like walking into a new world. She moaned and sighed and panted, her flailing arms coming to rest only when she needed temporary support or stability. Eyes closed in her lust-contorted face, she managed - in spite of the huge instrument deep in her throat - to begin a low-pitched continuous wail that sent shivers of excitement through all those watching.
Her audience was impressed, almost awed. Every one of them there knew Jean's story. They knew she'd never been really fucked in her life until the previous night. A few had been skeptical at first - not being able to imagine reaching the age even of twenty without full sexual experience - but they finally believed too. Jean's story about masturbating while she dreamed about famous movie stars had quickly gone the rounds. It would have been pathetic and laughable if they weren't already so fond of her. As it was, there was nothing unkind about their amusement or their present delight.
Herb and Dave appeared through a doorway with two black Doberman pinschers that whined uneasily and strained forward. Ordinarily their appearance would have brought forth cheers and bawdy comments, but at the moment nobody noticed, so caught up were they in the scene before them.
To Jean it seemed endless and she was beginning to tire. She had multiple orgasms, one following the other so quickly that there was no counting them, but her body was getting weary and over-strained. With relief, she felt the gasping of Jerry's cum in her mouth. His big body rocked back and forth over her face in diminishing spasms while she swallowed hastily, her cheeks moving in and out as she tried to get it all down her throat. Joseph came almost at the same time, pumping spasmodically into her ass, and fell away from her, his shit-streaked prick making a little popping noise as he pulled it out.
Alexander smiled and without missing a beat, leaned down and kissed her jism-smeared lips. "Sweet Jean," he whispered. She smiled back, knowing by the small twitchings of his body that he too had reached the point of no return.
The bearded host pumped harder, his fantastic control slipping for the first time as his balls jetted out their white-hot load. Jean felt as if not just her cunt but her whole body were awash with sperm - which it almost was. "Cum! Cum! she shouted at Alexander needlessly. His climax triggered one last orgasm in her, but she was far beyond the point of needing that. When he sighed and wearily climbed off of her, she could hardly move. Several willing pairs of hands helped her off the bed and one of the men massaged her tired back as she stumbled out of the limelight.
Jerry was there waiting for her. "C'mon," he said, putting a robe around her shoulders. "This is one time you really need a hot tub. And - " he added, laughing - "I mean only a tub!"
He took her to the same bath she'd used before, and after helping her scrub and rinse, walked her into the hot water. "There's plenty of time," he said, "you won't miss anything."
If she did, she couldn't find the energy to care. Leaning back against the coping, she let the hot water wash her from one side to the other, surrendering her tired muscles to its steamy comfort. Jerry half-supported her with his arm, satisfied to let her relax and recover. Jean's mind was a perfect blank, but energy gradually flowed back into her arms and legs.
"I couldn't have stood one more minute of the music and lights," she confided. "I was just about to blow a fuse."
"I don't wonder," he said. ". . . Damn! Who's that!"
The door opened and Jean found the strength to look up.
"Oh, Mom! Here you are!" Christy rushed in, with Stan and Dave behind her. "Mom, are you all right?"
"Sure I am!" Jean grinned up at her daughter. "Just - what is it you say? Just relaxing and - getting my shit together!" She looked at the three of them. "Why don't you join us? There's plenty of room."
"Great, groovy!" Christy threw off her clothes and climbed down in, and the men followed more slowly. Coming up to her mother, she looked her in the eye, plainly worried. "Is everything okay? I mean really. Is everything okay with you and Dad?"
"As far as I'm concerned."
Stan came up to her rather sheepishly, the water rippling around his stocky body. "Jean? Are you mad at me?''
"Not at all." She was perfectly relaxed, contented. Besides, he hadn't done anything worse than she - or, depending on how you looked at it, anything halfway as bad. It all depended, she decided, on one's own ideas of perversion. "Aren't you missing most of the show?"
"No, they're just sitting around talking. Getting the dogs worked up, I guess." He hesitated, then went on, "Are you going back in there?"
"Sure, I guess so. Are you?"
"If you are . . . Jean, we've got a lot to talk about. I've been pretty dumb, I guess. At least, that's what Christy and the other girls tell me. Is it - is it too late to make it up to you?"
She thought they were about even as far as stupidity was concerned, but it would never do to say so. "Stan, I think we have a lot of talking to do too. But not now!" She looked over her shoulder, seeing Christy and Dave holding hands, waist-deep in water, and talking earnestly. "Why don't we go back to the show, and talk about it later."
"Yeah, let's do that."
Jerry had tactfully disappeared, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Jean and Stan toweled and dressed in a more or less contented silence and made their way back to the big living room. She hoped that her participation for the night was over. Not that she couldn't have handled more, but it didn't seem right somehow with Stan in this thoughtful and contrite mood. She had to think of herself and her marriage, didn't she? And success in marriage, like anything else, depended a lot on timing.
The show was just getting under way again, obviously, and they found a corner in the back of the room. Someone passed a joint and she and Stan each took a toke, their eyes suddenly glued to the incredible sight under the cone of light.
Carmela, the Spanish-looking girl, posed stark naked, standing hipshot and deliberately provocative. Her olive-skinned body was fuller and more voluptuous than the other girls, not tall but round in a very feminine way. Hands on hips, she paraded in small circles around the impromptu stage. Her nipples were dark ocher and so long, Jean could hardly believe they were real. Her bush of black hair was thick and prominent. Suddenly she dropped to the floor, spreading her knees and pulling her cuntlips apart. They gleamed pink and shiny next to the black hair, in blatantly obvious sexual invitation.
And the male she was inviting so lasciviously was one of the powerful black Dobermans. The animal strained at his leash, his jaws a little open, his pink-black tongue lolling eagerly.
"They're trained for this," Stan whispered.
The dog pulled harder and suddenly, he was released. His claws scrabbling on the bare floor, he plunged toward the naked enticing girl. When he rose on his hind legs, everyone could see his glistening red prick, fully extended, not thick but long and arrow-sharp.
"Ooohhhh!" Jean gasped in spite of herself. She could almost imagine herself in that girl's place.
Carmela seemed to yield, but actually she controlled the dog, who was too eager to make the connection by himself. Cocking her knees wider, she grabbed his front paws and pulled him over her. Sometimes he scratched in the excitement of the moment, no matter how well trained he was! She was wet and frantically ready, as driven as the brute of an animal, thoroughly aroused from seeing his eager hunger. The dog's cock slid easily into her pussy and she shivered with delight.
This wasn't the first time Carmela had fucked the beast, and she knew just how to get the most out of the unnatural contact. Hunching her back, she presented her black-haired pussy to the whining, slavering animal. His frantic action gave her one of the most thrilling experiences she'd ever had, and that emotion was easily read on her face.
It was over in a matter of seconds - Carmela told them later she'd waited too long - but both animal and girl had their cums from the brief connection.
Jean realized that she was gripping Stan's arm so tightly that her fingers left white marks in his flesh. "Wasn't that something, Stan?"
He looked at her. "Could you do that, Jean?"
For a moment she thought of lying. Lying to Stan, after all, was a habit of long duration. But she remembered, that was part of what caused their problems - only telling him what she thought he wanted to hear.
"Yes, Stan, I could," she said honestly. "Not very often, it wouldn't turn me on but - at a time like this, when we're all frantically hot, I could do it." She waited a minute and then said, "Does that bother you, Stan? Can you accept that?"
He looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. "Like I said, Jean, we're due for a long, long talk."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
His tongue slipped along the edge of her vaginal slit, rubbing against the fine curly hairs, slithering over the moist, viscous flesh, dipping inside here and there in little darting motions. Jean let out a sigh that came from the soles of her feet. It Was so good to be lazy like this, to lie here in cushioned comfort and let him make slow easy love to her. Every now and then she recalled that this was only her second day in the house, and look at how much had happened already! And think of the five delicious days to look forward to!
"Uuuuummmmmm, that's so nice!"
"Is it?" he asked intensely. "Is it really good for you?"
"Ohhhh, yessss! Can't you tell? My pussy is coming alive all over again!"
And it was true, though she could hardly credit it herself. After her thorough ravishment by the three men, she'd believed she needed a good twenty-four hours to recover and feel any desire again. But her body seemed to be acting on private information, telling her that her senses were not nearly as overworked as she'd thought.
His tongue swirled wetter, saliva mingling with the fragrant juices that oozed out of her. It slipped alongside her clitoris, just in the particular spot she always stroked when she masturbated herself. Her little jerky motion betrayed her pleasure and he picked up on it instantly, renewing the delightful licking.
"I'm not doing my part," she said. "If you'd move around here, I could suck you at the same time."
He lifted his head long enough to smile at her. "I'm perfectly contented for the moment, darling. All fucked out, you know - but I can't help having one more taste of the sweetest pussy in the world."
"Well, you may have to do more than that," she warned. "If you keep this up much longer, you'll have to put out the fire you've started!" Nobody else could have turned her on quite this much, she reflected, as tired as she was. But his damned tongue was so talented, his ability to rouse her senses so skillful, that she figured she might as well get fucked one more time before the night ended.
"Ready and willing when you are."
Jean giggled. "You better mean it!"
"Or what," he teased. "You'll tell your husband on me?"
"Oh, Stan! How wonderful we can kid about it like this. Stan, sit up here and talk to me for a minute. Please?"
He sat up reluctantly, but still kept one hand in her pussy, absent-mindedly tweaking her clit and caressing her outer vaginal lips. A finger poked almost casually up her cunt now and then.
"We do have to talk, I suppose." Stan didn't want a confrontation and was obviously afraid of where a talk might lead them.
Neither one of them had been too much interested in the rest of the exhibition, and they agreed to go somewhere quiet to discuss their new experiences. But no sooner had Jean closed the door to the small cushioned and curtained room than Stan had fallen on her, his hands and lips yearning for her body. Jean's first and instinctive reaction had been to back off, but somehow she made herself stand quietly and let him embrace her. And was she glad she did! Because whatever else happened, Stan had learned his lesson. His kisses were hot and full-blooded, his tongue probing between her parted lips and swirling around her mouth. He didn't rush her but took his time, giving full justice to each erect rosy tit and the soft contours of her breasts. She hardly knew when they sank onto the carpet and sprawled out, because she was so busy returning his warmth and passion in burning kisses of her own.
She smiled at him as she remembered how slowly and carefully he'd gone, tantalizing her body with a million butterfly kisses and tender little bites, before he ever spread her legs and touched her there. It had been a good fuck, the best one she and Stan ever had together. It was obvious not only that his skills were sharpened, but that he was willing to do anything to make sure she had her pleasure too. Her cum was spectacular and not just because of physical satisfaction alone. There was something, she decided, that couldn't be measured, couldn't be faked, couldn't be replaced. It was part of the emotion and the ties between two people who'd shared their lives for so many years. New lovers could be more exciting, but nothing was as meaningful as sex between two people who basically loved each other.
"I don't want to say anything that'll upset you," Jean said. "But I really need to know some things . . . like what you think and feel about Christy now."
He frowned as if he found it hard to put in words. "It's a very strange sensation, Jean. I'm over my enormous infatuation with her, though she's still. .. well, I still love her, and in two different ways. I don't know if I can make you understand this____"
"Go on," she said encouragingly.
"She's still our daughter, after all. Our little girl. So of course I love her in that way, just as I always did."
"And what else?"
"Promise you won't get mad? Okay, I dig her as one hell of a good lay. I mean, completely apart from any personal relationship. She's sweet and pretty and built like a brick shithouse and - well, that's it. Any man who didn't dig it would be crazy! Now, are you mad at me?"
Jean threw her head back and laughed. Stan's basic honesty had come through and it didn't offend her, not one bit.
"No, darling, I'm not angry. Like you say, she'll always be our daughter and that's the main thing."
"My turn now?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Well ... I know what a terrific guy this Alexander is. All the girls are nuts about him and even I can understand why. And then there's that Jerry, a helluva nice fellow. And some little birdie told me you got it on with Chris's boy friend." He looked at her. "Christy knows that too."
"That's okay. What about you?"
"That's what I want to know, how do I fit in? Dave's young and handsome. Shit, they all got something good going for them and they all think you're the greatest thing since sliced bread. So, like I Say, where do I fit in?"
"Where do you want to fit in?"
He leaned over to the table and took a joint out of the box, taking his time about lighting it. Inhaling deeply, he passed the slim cigarette to her. "I'm not very good at saying things, you know that. I work with my hands, not my head. But there's something I read somewhere that stuck in my mind. I don't know what it meant to the guy who wrote it or said it or whatever .. . but it kinda expresses the way I feel."
Jean ashed the cigarette and handed it back. Strange, she felt almost an instant rush. It must be from exhaustion, she decided.
"What was it, Stan?"
Very slowly and distinctly, he said, " 'First among equals,' that's what the man said. You know what I mean?"
"First among equals!" What a funny thing for Stan to pick up. She had to think about it for a minute. "You mean . . . you don't mind sharing, don't mind my getting it on with the others ... as long as you're . . ."
"First!" He said it triumphantly. "Know what I mean, Jean? I have to feel deep inside that no matter what you're doing, or what kicks you're getting with other guys, that you really love me the most."
It was hard to believe that it was Stan talking, the same Stan who used to be so possessive with her body and so careless of her emotions. Cautiously, because she couldn't quite believe in it yet, she said, "You mean it's all right to fuck around as long as I love you? Because I do, Stan, you know I always will."
"I hoped so," he said gruffly, squeezing her hand. "The only thing is, I wouldn't like this to . . . get around. You know. The guys I work with, the neighbors, the fellows at the bowling alley. They could understand my screwing a lot easy enough, and say more power to me. But if they knew you were . . . well, you get it."
"Yeah, I get it all right." She was suddenly depressed in spite of the consoling finger reaming her pussy. "Stan, I oughta be glad you have a good job and we've got a decent place to live and like that. I know I should. But... oh shit, honey! I just hate to go back to it all! I hate it! If we could only stay here forever. . . ."
"You mean it?" He looked at her eagerly. "You really mean it, babe? Don't say it unless you do!"
"But - how could we? What would we live on?"
"I've got it all worked out, but I didn't really think you'd be going for it. Like, if we sold our house, that'd be a hunk of money we could call our own. I'd like to teach these young fellows here something about cabinet making. I saw their shop today and they don't even know how to - well, that's details. But they need me here, that's for damn sure."
Jean caught fire from him. "I don't have any specialty except keeping house, cooking and sewing. But that would be valuable with so many young girls boarding here, wouldn't it?"
"You bet it would! There's lots of things you could teach those girls, and they already like you, anybody could see that. We'll have to talk to Alexander, of course, but if he says okay, are you ready for it? Really ready?"
Jean thought of her home, her neighbors, her church circle and her friends. For a minute she could actually see the shining yellow tile in her kitchen with everything arranged just the way she wanted it. And she could imagine what the boarding house kitchen was like.
But then she thought of the young people here, their warmth and open friendliness. She remembered the thrills of having Alexander fuck her in the ass, of Jerry and the warm rippling pool, of young Dave's tender, powerful lovemaking.
"I'm ready," she said.
Stan was so excited by the prospect that he pulled his hand out of her cunt - and she didn't even notice. Pacing the floor, he said, "I'll bring some of my own tools along. We can specialize in hand-made furniture, that'll help pay our way. If we just get this whole thing organized, Jean, why we can have a ball.. .."
Candlelight flickered over the bed so that where Christina sat propped against the pillows, her naked tanned body was touched with pinpoints of dancing light. She wriggled impatiently and plumped the pillow up higher. "Dave? You still asleep?" she whispered.
He didn't answer and her blue eyes sparked impatiently, the sooty lashes blinking. He lay with his head just at her waistline so she could reach down and tickle the mat of dark hair on his chest. But he only mumbled something and moved restlessly, and she hadn't the heart to wake him.
She was in a funny mood. She and Pop had talked over the whole thing, admitting they'd had the hots, for each other for years. And it was all cool now, so that couldn't be what bothered her. In spite of her fears, the whole thing had worked out fine so it couldn't be her parents' visit that bothered her, either. She had to giggle to herself when she remembered the shame-faced way that Dave confessed he'd fucked Mom. As if Christy cared! It only made them all closer together, more like a real family.
But something still bothered her and she didn't know what it was. Rats, why doesn't Dave wake up and talk to me? She tickled him again and all he did was sprawl out, throwing his arms and legs wide. Christy scooted down in the bed and cupped his soft cock in her hands. Darling Dave, how could she ever get along without him? She smoothed back the loose skin on the head and blew her soft warm breath on it. Dave didn't wake up but his cock began to stir. She giggled and decided to agitate it a little further. Her hands slipped under and cupped his balls, while her face dipped to the warm hairy crotch. Squeezing his balls gently, she put out her tongue and licked the soft fleshy protuberance.
Uuuummmm, that's nice! She really loved the taste of him, the acrid odor of semen, the feel of his flesh coming alive under her hands and her tongue.
"Dave, wake up!"
"Whassa matter?" he said sleepily. "S'morning already?"
"No, damn it, I want to talk to you! Wake up!"
Dave shook his head groggily and managed to get his eyes open. "What's the matter, Chris, something wrong?" Then he noticed her hands still working on his cock and balls, and his own growing tumescence. He grinned. Nothing was too wrong, obviously.
"All right!" He shoved himself higher in the bed. "My baby's just got the hots, right? C'mere, doll."
"No!" She evaded his arms. "That was just to wake you, Dave. I really want to talk."
"Women!" he snorted. "Talk, talk, talk!" But he reached for a cigarette and propped himself against the pillows. "Now, what's keeping you awake, honey? Same old problems?"
"I guess so. What I really woke you up to tell you is that I think you're absolutely right, at least up to a point."
"Now this conversation is beginning to interest me, up to a point," he grinned. "Mind explaining what that meant?"
"Well, I'm not going for never having sex with anybody else. Never ever, I mean. But - it seems like it is time for us to leave here and get out on our own. We could sort of experiment with things. Like, we might even get married."
"Wow!" Dave sat up straight, his eyes gleaming. "Do you really mean that, Chris? That would solve all our problems, wouldn't it?"
"Some of them, anyway. Maybe the free life isn't really for us, darling. Or maybe not right now."
"Well, if you feel that way then I have a confession to make. It wasn't entirely the fucking around that bothered me, it was something else. I heard about a job I wanted. And it would mean moving - this is too far to commute."
"Dave, how marvelous? What is it?"
"Engineering design, what I was really trained for. It's a big company, hon, and they have lots of opportunities for advancement. They're working on these aircraft components, see, and . . ."
Christy only listened to the rest of it with part of her mind. With the other part she was picturing a small apartment, just big enough for two. The kitchen would be all hers and she'd put a pot of geraniums on the windowsill, and have everything so clean and shining! Dave would come home from work and she'd have her make-up on and her hair combed, and the good smells would waft in from her own shining little kitchen, and -
"Dave!" She bounced up and down in her excitement. "Maybe we could even have a baby! If we weren't fucking anyone else so we'd know it was ours, yours, we could have a darling little baby!"
"So we could," he said expansively, "so we could! In that case, though, we ought to get married. Would you mind that very much, Chris? If we actually got married legally?"
"No, I think that's the answer." He didn't even remember she'd suggested the same thing a minute ago, and she'd never remind him. "If you really think we should, Dave, then we'll do it!"
She leaned back against his shoulder, her soft tanned skin warm on his body. "Mom and Pop would have to sign for me because I'm under age. You think they'd mind?"
"Not a bit," he said positively. "As broadminded as your folks turned out to be, I'm sure they'd go for it. All they really want is for you to be happy, you know that."
"Yeah, it's great we got things all straightened out, isn't it? I'm really a good cook, Dave, Mom taught me. Maybe we can have them over for dinner on Sundays, and then go for a ride . . . like we used to do when I was a little girl."
"Uuuummmmmm, sure."
Dave pulled her in tighter and ran his hand up and down over her stomach. A little tiny baby, all their own, coming alive in Christy's belly! And the chance to work at a job he enjoyed, one that was a challenge to his mind - no more sandal-making and woodworking! A real honest job!
Blissfully happy, warm and drowsy and content, Christy rolled over on him. Would it be different having sex together when they were married? Different but no better, she decided. But maybe having each other exclusively would be superneat, like their own little secret from the world. . . .
"My sweetheart, my little wife," he said tenderly as they locked themselves in a tight, heated embrace. Her tits sprang to attention as they rubbed against the dark mat of hair on his chest. When she rubbed her crotch against his thigh, his hands fondled the elastic round arch of her buttocks.
"I'll never get enough of you," he promised.
Impulsively Christy broke loose and threw herself toward the foot of the bed. She grasped and kissed the smooth white shaft between his legs, delighting in its growing size and hardness. Manipulating the foreskin, she found the tiny opening and pressed her tongue against it. The familiar acrid taste sent shivers of lust over her slender frame.
For Dave, it was one of the happiest moments of his life. He leaned back, fascinated by her busily moving hands and mouth and the familiar yet always new thrills that swept over him. It was so good to love, and be loved, by this marvelous beautiful unique human being, this alive bundle of sensuous femininity. He could never do without her!
Christy was happy too. A little baby . . . our own home. . . like playing house but for real! She could hardly wait! Meantime it was up to her to keep her man happy, and she opened her mouth wide and let its suction draw in the hard thick pulsing rod.
Imagine, having sex with only one man!
CHAPTER TWELVE
"... I don't care what you say, it's immoral!" That was the same old Stan, sure that he was right and everyone else was wrong. But, thought Jean fondly as she dipped up the champagne punch, he had a new mellowness in his voice, and in his manner. Everybody just laughed when he talked about the immorality and selfishness of a marriage just for two, and Stan didn't even mind.
"Oh, Pop!" Christy smiled at him radiantly. "You know what, darling? When Dave and I were talking about getting married and going straight, we imagined having you over for Sunday dinner, and going for a ride together. We never dreamed we'd have to come here and pry you out of Margo or Karen's bed to do it!"
The room rocked with happy laughter, not that it was so terribly funny, but because everyone was in such high good humor.
It all worked out right, Jean thought, even though society might not think so. She and Stan were having the time of their lives, both feeling busy and useful and wanted. To say nothing of the constant sex that enriched their days and nights! They were both making up for lost time, she knew, and might not keep it up like this forever. But right now, it was exciting and deeply fulfilling for both of them. , And they didn't need to feel selfish about it, because Christy too was doing what she wanted, not restricted by their expectations for her. One only needed to look at the bride to know that she was gloriously happy!
"Quit daydreaming and serve the punch - Mom!" Dave said.
She laughed and dipped the ladle again. How perfect it was to find out that Alexander was - among many other things - an ordained minister! It meant they could have the wedding and reception right here, in the middle of those who loved and understood them!
Because the best part of it, really, was knowing that Christy and Dave hadn't actually deserted. They'd made it clear that they'd be back and not just as casual visitors, either. "After we have our very own baby, that is," Christy said firmly, and everyone understood.
"If we can really return at times," Dave added seriously, "then we know our marriage will never grow stale."
Jean watched and smiled as the group broke up into couples, dancing to the insistent rock beat. "Come dance with me, sweet Jean," Alexander said, and they moved out onto the floor. She'd begun to do the new dances under considerable pressure from her young friends, and found that she enjoyed them enormously.
"Do you suppose - " Alexander said - "that we could slip away some time soon? I find an irresistible desire to ball the mother of the bride."
"Yes, I guess so ... if Stan's okay. This is an important moment for him, you know."
"We'll see."
When the dance ended they moved through the crowd to the corner where Stan seemed to be giving some last-minute advice to the bride and groom. She wondered what he could possibly have to say to them at this point but, knowing him, he'd think of something!
"You're going to get established first, aren't you, Dave?" Stan asked. "I mean, the idea of a baby is sweet, but you have to know that you can afford it. You'd be amazed how much those little things can eat. And the way they outgrow their clothes and shoes!"
Christy answered for him. "Of course we are, Pop! We know all those things. Maybe a year from now we'll be ready."
"Then you're still taking your birth-control pills?" Stan persisted.
"If it's any of your business, yes!"
Stan sighed deeply and beamed at the bride. "In that case," he said, "I can only think of one thing more to make this day perfect. If you can spare half an hour for your old man ... I'd kinda like to say good-bye in a more personal way."
"Oh, Pop, you're hopeless!" But she said it with a smile, and the light in her eyes grew brighter. "Mind you, I'm only doing this to keep my Daddy happy. If Dave doesn't mind?" He shook his head and the father and daughter walked off together, arms reaching around each other, followed by laughter and cheers.
"Stan's okay! Let's go!"
Jean thought this might be the last time Stan ever got to fuck his daughter - though maybe not. One never knows what tricks life is going to play on you. Meantime, she was glad that he and Christy were parting friends, and something more than friends.
"It might not be everybody's life style, but it suits us," she said as Alexander drew her out of the crowd.
"Ummmmmmhmmmm," he said, "that's right."
But from the look in his eyes and the way his strong eager hands reached for her, she didn't think he was paying much attention to philosophies at the moment.