There is something infinitely touching in civilized man's-and woman's, too, of course-trying to find a way to propitiate his jealous gods with clean living, and still retain his God-given sexuality, his mysterious, infallible, unquenchable urge to procreate.
Especially is this true of the Western world, where some deep-running sense of guilt always seems to be the third partner in any bedroom activities. It is as though man had an enemy within, a counter instinct which keeps on clamoring that immorality and the human genitalia are bound together.
Even in a presumably enlightened era, when the once "younger" generation led what they believed to be a sexual revolution, and when women equate their liberation with the right to enjoy sex without sanction, there are still millions who shudder at such ideas. Sex with marriage? They can't stand the thought. And yet, many of them think it is perfectly moral to have marriage without sex, and even think of such a cruel anomaly as being, somehow, very upright.
And yet, as a very wise old woman once said, speaking of sex: "They can preach and pray against it, they can make terrible jokes about it, they can even legislate against a lot of it, and families can ban any talk of it-but they have never made it unpopular!"
This is because, while bloodless puritans and their hypocritical puppets-in-office may set the rules, they do not rule the healthy minded. For every restraining action, there is a liberating reaction. And many of these, we as publishers are proud to say, are writers and book sellers. Even in the Tortured Twenties, when that beautiful book, JURGEN, as "banned in Boston," and when this nation turned its back on ULYSSES, the ink-stained wretches got in blow after blow.
Warwick Deeping, a romantic novelist of the times, created a thought provoking paradox when, speaking of a couple who, in the language of the day, had fallen into a pit sin, he wrote: "Even those who try to love only with their souls are eventually trapped into their natural destiny. Souls are so lonely; bodies are not."
Thank God-and also a change for the better in the public moral outlook, which is reflected in the courts-the literature of love lives in a warmer, happier climate.
This human novel by Carolyn Hunt is a case in point. No scarecrow of fake morality, no gibbering false-face crying "Taboo! Taboo!" against natural-if somewhat unusual-love, could keep these warm blooded people apart.
The young girl, hesitating on the threshold of maturity, her loving stepfather, wanting only to help the child-at first, that is-even the hurt and angry mother, all found themselves finer and stronger for being refined in this extra-hot crucible of love and understanding.
Miss Hunt, who has given our readers so many excellent examples of the daring modern novel, has done it again!
-The Publisher
Chapter One
There are very few truly rare days in any woman's life. Women are less easily deceived by the false face of luck than men are. They have, as a sex, a sort of wariness toward all things. Even when it seems that the fates and the fairies are showering them with the world's goodies, they are slow to respond fully.
But with Connie Haire, waking up in her big, comfortable bed on this sunny morning, with her tall, good looking husband lying so near her glowingly mature body, something was happening that was starting this day out on a perfect note. There was a zest in her loins, a warmth, a feeling of life and fullness in her cunt, that seemed to come to a pinpoint of fire as his big, smooth hand slid boldly between her generously molded thighs, touching her in the warmest, most loving parts of her blood-heated twat. What a lover Dick was! And she was enjoying it all the more, these days, for a secret reason which even Dick didn't know. There was a touch of sadness in these moments of high heat, of throbbing fuck-fests, that gave them an added intensity. To Connie, at least. And it was something she couldn't share. Not now, at least. Maybe, some day. But for now, she opened her thighs to let him have free access to their smooth warmth, and moaned as his big finger slipped with hard precision into her juicy, quivering vagina.
"Dick," she whispered. "Dick, my dear, my love! OHHHHHH! That feels so good! Oh, Dick, how did you know I needed fucking so badly? OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OH, BABY! Can you feel what's happening inside of me?"
Her fluttering vaginal muscles, slobbered and richly slick with their coating of cunt juice, nibbled delightfully at his fingers, and he could not help squirming and shoving against her as his cock swelled in its own knowledge of how suckingly sweet those muscles felt in all its sensitive length. When it got shoved in. And Dick and his cock knew it would be soon.
"My dear," he whispered, his nose rooting in the fragrant, softly haired armpit right at his face, "roll a little! Ahhh! That's it! Oh, my God! What tits! Like big pillows of warmth and feeling!"
She loved her husband. Even with her secret knowledge of just what kind of man he was, she loved him. That hard, hot organ pressed between her buttocks, touching the sensitive ring of her asshole, was hers, and would always be hers. She wanted it now, with a deep and painful ache in her superheated fuck sheath, squirming in its darkness, leaking out the clear, hot female flow that corresponds to a man's thick, opalescent jism. Very gently, and with practiced hand, she reached over her big hip, felt for the hard pole cased in its soft, thick skin, and softly frigged up and down, her longest fingers touching the big balls drawn up against it.
Her husband had a big hand full of her glowing, tingling breast, her big, dark nipple sticking out between his finger and thumb. He was gripping it with torturing strength, just short of making her scream in pain, and the brutality of his loving was sending streaks of sex fire shooting down through her heaving, sweating belly, onto the fat, thickly haired cunt lips, jerking her hardened clit into knots of expectancy and fuck fever.
She threw her full fashioned body around and against her husband, moaning with a deep intensity as her open mouth found his. "Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!" her heated throat sang as her thick, strong tongue wrapped hotly around his, her warm, sweated belly working anxiously, hungrily against Dick. She threw one big thigh over his loins, and reached down between them, her hand seeking his rock-hard prick just as her dribbling cunt lips seemed to seek it blindly. His tongue moved stabbingly in and out of her mouth, penetrating as hotly as his penis would do in a second or two, and he had his big hands behind her, digging into the humid trench between her firm buttocks, jabbing into her to get the feel of her slickly oozing cunt, her puckered asshole so thickly coated with the loving slime that squeezed out between the clutching cunt lips.
She had a bright, rankly beautiful picture in her mind as she blindly sucked her husband's tongue-of her thick cunt lips parting to show their coral pink inner surfaces, the fat, blood filled inner lips shining with her cuntal oils, and his broad, shining cockhead rubbing between them, seeking the clasping hold at the base of her long slit. In the intensity of this moment, she had a strange flicker of the secret flame which was making this entire act even hotter, even better, and she hugged Dick's muscular body against her, the cruel smashing of her big, soft breasts giving her a lancing jolt of orgasmic joy right down the center line of her cunt.
Her husband pulled his mouth from hers, his face flushed and intent, his eyes glazed with the stormy joy of fucking. It was all there, her gorgeous ass squeezed in his hands, his fingers slipping in her cunt's flow, the sweetness of her mouth on his, her pillowy breasts smashed between them, the smell of cunt clogging his nostrils.
"You're so good to fuck, baby," he choked. "So good to suck or fuck. I wish I had six cocks, a dozen balls, twenty hands, so I could enjoy all of you, all ways, all at once!"
He bent his back and rooted into the garnet nest of hair under her arms, swept his rasping cheeks across the tenderness of her breasts, sucking in a big, hard grained nipple with such force that she screamed in the wrenching joy of fuck pains.
His poet's words echoed in the heated chambers of her mind, her loving body sweeping all its throbbing strength against him. She knew it was stupid to give everything in one burst of fire and sweetness, but she needed the explosion of sex deep inside her, needed the release which only orgasm could bring her straining, aching cunt.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "Oh, Dick, put it in me! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! I have to cum, baby! I HAVE TO CUM!" And for that split second, she forgot that central thought in her mind, that hard core of anger and spite that made getting his jism all the sweeter.
But he held his loins above her, the blood-swollen head of his prick not quite into the ring of slick, pink muscle that closed her cunt away from the world. His pressure continued, his teeth raked the blue-veined whiteness of her full breasts as he ferociously sucked the nipple deep into his mouth, and she thought that her pussy would turn itself inside out in her need to enfold his cock.
He loved this teasing, loved to make his wife beg for his dick. This was a part of what made her such a marvelous, hotly responsive piece of fuck-pleasure. And, to his pride, part of what made him a good lay for her, a good man to ride in the hollowed out saddle of her thighs as she unconsciously raised her strong legs to push her cuntal spread up to him. Thick, slobbering lips, a petaled rosette of pink flesh made darker by the scarlet blood that swelled in surface veins. A tiny clutch of bubbly pink membrane that made kissing movements like a baby's rosebud mouth. Behind them, the aperture that opened into her hot body, the portal to her clasping vagina with its wealth of woman juice making it hot and slippery. By now, in fact, she would have squeezed so much of this clear cunt nectar from her furred lips that the entire crack of her ass, clear to the tip of the spine, was a gooey, warm surface that was almost like the inner darkness of her pussy.
He could hear her screaming above his head as he chewed on her nipple and teased her clutching split with his cock, and for a brilliantly happy second, he thought about their daughter and wondered how much of this she was hearing. Or perhaps seeing. In any case, enjoying. For he knew she would enjoy it, even while she hated it. Hated him for fucking her mother, for driving that huge stake of hard meat into the tender, delicate, hungering flesh of Connie's cunt.
Her daughter. His stepdaughter. Although he had adopted her so many years ago, when she was only a year old, and had truly been her father ever since. In name and in feelings, for he loved her and she loved him. Always had. Always would. And, poised above the warmly loving child's mother, thinking of the slickness and tightness of this thick-lipped, mature cunt, he could see in his mind that very, very young cunt, as he had seen it for twelve years.
Some flash of inspiration touched Connie Haire's mind, some mystic, prescient assurance that this was fuck time.
Her powerful legs swept higher, capturing her husband's powerful body, her heels locked just above the crack of his ass. Just at the exact spot to give her the leverage she needed. And his hard peter was a half-inch deeper into her. Teasing time had run out, this was the cock-skinning, cunt-stretching moment of truth.
"Oh, GOD! GOD, GOD! GET IT, BABY! BANG IT TO ME, BABY!" the man screamed. He thought in one microscopic flash of his young stepdaughter, his daughter, really, as much as if she were truly his own flesh and blood. Of her softness and warmth, all of which had come out of this strong woman he was fucking, had nursed at those same nipples he had chewed almost to the blood point.
He felt the pressure of his big cock push back the shouldered softness of his wife's inner cunt, felt it hang for a second in spite of her abundance of pussy juice. There was the great painful joy of having his covering cock skin rolled back by the toothless mouth of Connie's close, hot meat. He banged into the slick, dark hardness of her womb's mouth, hearing her shout against his head as he continued to suck fiercely on her titty.
"Oh, God, you're hot and sweet, baby," he gasped around the hard nipple. "Ahhhhhh! FUCK ME!" And he ploughed into her with all his strength, feeling the slick, wet heat of her clasping muscles sucking at his cock in a glory that had been made possible by the long, teasing build up.
Now they were fucking in a strong, easy rhythm, taking long strokes that started when the head of his prick was pulled out to her streaming opening, and that slid into her tightness with increasing speed until he struck the hard, quivering womb, plunged past it, and brought up with a jarring, dull shock as he reached the closed end of her vagina.
"You're hitting my gut!" Connie gritted through her teeth and then her scream rang loud and clear: "You're hurting me, precious! You're into me tooooooddeeeeep! OHHHHHH! HOW GOOD! HURT ME, BABY! I'M CCCUUUMMMIIIMMM-GGG!OOOOOOOOH! OOOOOOOOOH!"
She was grunting like a pig caught in a gate, her screams as animalistic as the deep feelings that were being wrenched from her cunt by her husband's ferocious slammings. She seemed to shake and quiver with waves of heat that burst far up inside her vagina, in the slippery, warm darkness around her womb. Each wave lifted her into a flashing brilliance of sexuality, of ecstasy that seemed to burn her all through. And all the time the hard reality of his cock, striking so deeply into her, hitting the closed end of her vagina with such force, bore her down against the bed.
And each time, her body, longing for the penetrating organ that so filled and stretched it, came humping and hunching back, the whole woman gone wild with fuck magic, with the tearing pleasure of having her husband in her, pumping out her juices, wiping her inner parts with his long, sure strokes.
He could feel his balls rub in the wet fuzz around her asshole each time he pounded into her tightness. Her inner muscles had always been the strongest and best he had ever known. Now, they were locking and sliding around his cock as it speared into her, seeming to lick up and down his stem, around the bulbous head, like a thousand puppy-dog tongues. He was not consciously holding on to his load. He would just as soon fire it, quench the fires in that greedy, hot, slippery-muscled cunt, suck it all out, give his wife a few more hard thrills, and start saving up for the hard-on he wanted to save.
He loved his wife. In his way. He truly felt she had the most voluptuous pussy in the whole wide world. So soft, so delightful in its appearance, its richly musky aromas, its floods of woman-juice, its gourmet flavors. No cunt he had ever known had been more generously welcoming, more giving of its wealth of love. Her skin was so alive, so smooth, so warm. The thick, springy flesh that made her outer cunt lips so appealing, the lips that were so soft and smooth, like the lips of her sweet mouth. She was still tight, as tight as when he had married her, twelve years before, a widow with a tiny baby girl, this comfortable house, a rare kind of love to offer, and her own standards of how to treat a man.
One in a million. Maybe ten million.
He drove into her, into that treasure of cunt, swollen with pride at her heat and his ability to play on it like the emperor of all cunt musicians that ever stroked into a slick fuck sheath.
Her cries were becoming weaker, even if her lovely body still flew up from the mattress to close on his dick, to offer itself in all its flowing, loving warmth and beauty.
But he pictured another cunt. Younger. Very tender. Sweet with the gamey sweetness of newly blossomed womanhood. The cunt he wanted to save the next hard-on for, if he ever got one again.
As he thought of the tenderness of those extremely young cuntlips, of their softness and their barely visible fuzz of soft, dark hair which did not nearly cover that delightfully formed slit, he felt his seed begin to boil up from his overcharged balls.
Connie felt it, too, with a fierce triumph that a hot and loving woman feels when she draws the sperm from her man. Or any man.
She was panting hoarsely, her cheek against Dick's, their sweat mingling and running down, down between her big breasts, which flopped like heavy, smooth, hot bags of meat. Like they were full of milk, she thought. Oh, I wish you'd knock me up, baby! Would I ever give you milk! She thought flashingly of John Strong, a good man, the man who had fathered her daughter Janice. Little Jannie, who was hearing her screams of fuck lust, her pleas for Dick to fuck her harder, deeper. She felt her weighty breasts roll along her ribs, glad that they were so big, so smooth, so firm and taut in spite of her age, a year away from forty. In spite of their size and their heavy pull on her pectoral muscles. Men liked big, soft, smooth titties. So did boys. This was her best thought of this past quarter-hour. Boys love big titties.
"OH, BABY!" she sobbed, half out of her mind with the smash of her husband's semen-spurting cock, with her own long, fluttering, nerve rasping orgasm. I could melt and roll out on the bed in a big puddle of cum, her mind whispered. But she croaked: "Fuck me, baby! Fuck me hard, Dickie boy! UUUUUUNNNNNNHHHHHH! UUUNNNHHH! UUUUUUNNNNNNHHHHHH!"
She felt his last spurts of jism flood her slackening cunt, knowing that she had only one last flutter of loving muscle left inside her. "Oh, Dick, you've fucked me so good!" she said in his ear. Her breath was warm, her whisper was barely audible.
Now that her legs were slackening, too, she let her heels slide off her husband's rump, her legs falling heavily on the bed.
"You've shot me so full of cock juice that I'll soak the bed," she said in a nearly normal tone. "Oh, Dick, my love, these morning hard-ons of yours, they're so lovely!"
She felt his body tighten, sensed that his reply would be something less than the strong language of love she wanted to hear.
What was more, she knew why he might have some momentary harshness in his feelings toward her.
He was a man, young enough to desire sex with youthful hunger, but old enough to have had warnings that he could not pour out his substance in one shot after another. While she, a woman, enjoyed the bio-sexual advantage of never being depleted through cum after cum. He was limited. She was not. And she sensed that now, caught in a trap of his tenderness for her, aroused by her heat and beauty so close at hand, he had fucked her. And now wished that he hadn't, since he needed his seed to shoot into another woman.
She didn't want to hear whatever it was he might say. She did not hate him for loving another person, for desiring another cunt to fuck. There were times when she could barely contain her pain and anger. But she always had held it in.
She pulled his face to hers and kissed him tenderly, her hand feeling for his wilting cock with almost maternal love and care. She sucked his big tongue with gentle, undemanding love. Don't be mad at me, baby, she thought wryly. Fucking was your idea. Her gesture touched him because he knew the splendor of spirit that existed in his hotly loving wife. Touched him so that he pulled away from her, letting some of the his-and-her spit drool down on one of her big, sweet breasts, and whispered: "I want to suck you, doll!"
With her heart pounding, she groaned: "Oh, lovely, Dick! Oh, thank you, Dick! I love it so!"
He helped her get her strong, smooth ass up on a pillow, her legs back against her tingling breasts, so that her cuntal area was spread before him. He looked at her without a sense of shame, not in the slightest disturbed that he would think of another warm and tender pussy while he was eating this one. Her eyes were closed, her sweet face tense with happy anticipation. He loved her this way as much as he ever had. And he knew she loved it, too.
He licked gently into the pink, warm pudding of flesh and membrane, one hand lightly against the smooth cheek of her ass, the other around the opposite thigh, touching her soft belly.
With the first contact, she moaned softly: "Mmmmmm, darling, how sweet!" And her strong body moved slightly, so that he could feel her thighs tighten against his cheeks. "Mmmmmm," his wife sighed again, pushing her open cunt up toward him.
He put his open mouth hard against her spread of thick, slick inner labia, so warm with her heated blood, so tightly filled with her passion. He licked carefully in their reddened convolutions, finding not only the traces of his own semen mixed with her pussy juice, but tiny nuggets of warm, semi-solid juices from her body, with a fragrance and savor all their own. Cunt was so sweet!
He licked down that flattened trench of warm, responsive flesh, and Connie put her hand on the crown of his head, pressing him as hard as she could, breathing: "Oh, God, lover, that's exquisite! I wish I could keep you right there for hours!"
He was far more aware than Connie of the passing of time. His job was secure, not circumscribed by time clocks and office managers. But he had work to do, and in some indirect way, Connie was reminding him of it. It did not hurry him, but he ran his open mouth down to the dark little clutch of soft flesh which closed her cunt. He slipped both hands around her thighs to hold her, since he knew how wildly she would respond to what was coming.
With all the strength of his lips and cheeks, he sucked at the trembling fuck hole, sucked so hard that he could almost feel its walls close on each other. His mouth filled with smooth, thick liquid, rich in taste and texture, warm with his wife's body heat.
He loved this moment when his own seed came back into his body. Often, since she craved it, he fed this residue of love and sex back into his wife's mouth. But today, in some dim and mystic feeling that his sexual strength could be bolstered by it, he swallowed it. And as he swallowed, working the slickness of semen and cunt juice out from under his tongue and back across his taste buds, he made his tongue hard and shoved it as deep into Connie's warm vagina as it would reach, flicking it from side to side.
He sucked again against the ass which was now thrashing with all its strength in the throes of a blasting new cum. His chin was pressed hard against the sensitivity of her rectum, his nose was rubbing at her wildly leaping, feverishly expanding clit. The juice still came to him but it was thinner, now. More hers than his. But sweet in its assurance of generous cunt warmth.
His arms were strongly around her big thighs, and he was grinning into her lashing pussy as he sucked and kissed and held on to her straining body. His suction had brought her nearly dry cunt walls together in a beautifully ecstatic pang of nerves rasping on each other, and her orgasm was doubly hot, flaming from deep inside her vagina as well as around the wildly tender nerves around her tender little clitoris, now flattening out as its energy drained.
"LOVER!" she screamed. "LOVER! SUCK ME! OH, DICKIE, THAT'S TOO GOOD! OH, MY CUNT! SUCK! SUCK! SUCK!"
He had never been so dear, so tender, so studiously careful to build and expand and explode completely her post-fuck orgasm. And she appreciated it. Appreciated the artistry with which he had sucked her out and given her this last, shuddering blast of cumming. It was his offering to her for what he was going to do, sooner or later, with another woman.
She held her strong, smooth thighs around his head for a moment, holding his face in the flowing, trembling sensitive spread of hair and outer lips and inner lips and flowing hole. I could kill him if I were stronger, smother him in my cunt, her heated mind told her. But she knew that this was a lie, told only to place a patch on her abraded pride. She did not hate him at all, even knowing that he was almost certainly planning to fuck another woman on this day.
She knew who the other woman was, and did not hate her, either. How could she?
It was her thirteen-year-old daughter.
Chapter Two
Connie Haire was almost right. She was right in guessing that Janice would hear her screams of exploding lust, her moans and sighs of passion. Absolutely right. And she was partly right about Dick's interest in his stepdaughter's lithe, strong, beautifully proportioned young body, and in the child's tender, lightly haired, juicy little cunt. She was even right about his wanting to preserve at least one shot from his big balls for Janice. But she was wrong about one major premise.
They had never fucked. Not yet.
What she had seen, when she had come home unexpectedly, just three weeks ago, quietly, and found them naked in Janice's room, when they were too wrapped up in each other to sense her presence, was not what she assumed. But who could blame her?
Dick lay on his right side, his back to Connie, who stood in the dark hall, utterly paralyzed by what she saw. She could see that he had an enormous hard-on, and that Janice's small, soft hand was holding it, petting it, stroking it while the child's flushed face smiled down at her stepfather. The child's young breasts, giving their promise, already, of being like her mother's some day, were fuller and riper looking than Connie remembered them. But then, how long had it been since she had noticed?
Anyway, they were swollen by heat, that was certain, for Janice's nipples, darker than her mother's, were large and hard, looking very dark because of their overcharge of racing blood.
Connie was-what? She was all of the things we think of as a mother being, when she sees her daughter in flagrante delicto with a male. Sick with anger, torn by the deeply feminine need to protect her child. But she was unable to move from the spot, because of another little matter. She was all the things a wife is, when she sees her husband in bed with another female. Sick with anger, torn by the desire to shred the woman's skin with her claws, to flay the woman with the scorpion-whips of bitter words. But she was shackled. She could do nothing.
The man seducing her daughter was her beloved husband. He had been as much a father to the infant Janice as her real father-any real father-could ever have been.
He had been generous and honest and kind and considerate.
And that young cunt in there with her husband, that hateful object, another woman stealing her man, was her daughter. Actually, although Connie did not know it, and would not for a long time, her innocent daughter. Her innocent daughter who had never, at the time of this discovery, ever had a man's-or a boy's-prick stuck in her warm, fuzzy little pussy. Nor even a male finger, for that matter. Nor been French kissed or willingly let a boy feel her up. At the time of Connie's discovery.
When she left that soul-shaking, cruelly bizarre scene, which she did within seconds, she found it very hard to move one foot after the other. The blood was pounding in her ears so that she could not have heard a word from the two who lay naked together on that bed of treachery and iniquity, of incest and depravity. But there was another reason.
The lascivious sight, so redolent of sex at its most garishly shocking potency, at least for the woman involved, the wife of the man and the mother of the girl, had flushed Connie's warm and sensual body with cunt heat that almost turned her to liquid fire.
She felt her cuntal nerves, the ones deepest inside her, begin their tickling, teasing itch. She felt the quick spurt of orgasmic fluid fill her vaginal cups and folds and reservoirs, and begin their maddening crawl as gravity pulled their hot, liquid reality down through the tenderest, most pathetically eager nerves inside her twat. And, as always when she ran a very high sexual heat, her slick inner labia were immediately swollen by a rush of blood to fill them; they became twice their dormant size. They, too, leaked their own fluids, but more important, their swelling opened and swelled her outer lips so that they were double their normal size and triple their usual sensitivity on their pink inner surfaces. Every step she took was pure, torturing fire, the fire of need, the ardent flame of an overheated cunt that needs immediate relief.
Which simply meant that each step rubbed one sensitized surface against another, so that, unless she walked with her thighs spread in a vulgar and suggestive angle, Connie was going to be smitten by a giant, sweeping orgasm right there in the hall.
She was never able to understand exactly why the sight of her daughter and her husband engaged in obvious sex play, should have thrown her into such an unbridled seizure of love and passion.
"I'd have killed them," she whispered to herself as she sank onto her bed-hatefully, Dick's bed, too-"if I hadn't been so close to cumming! God! How could they do this? To me? How could Dick do it too little Jannie?"
She was almost hysterical, but she knew she must cool down, pull herself together, decide what to do. But she was nearly frantic with unappeased lust. The intense, fiery sensation of itching lust in her fuck system overrode any anger, any grief. Without any further thought of anyone else, in complete abandon, the lovely, mature woman lay on her back and lifted her spread thighs. Exactly as she would have if Dick had been there, she thought with a shock. But it was not Dick, nor his cock that would help her now.
She felt no revulsion when the nylon strap of her panties seemed to slide under her fingers. She was proud of being hot. If her cunt overflowed with its sweet juice, no matter what the cause, she would not feel turned off. She held the cum-slicked strap aside while her experienced fingers sought the aching spot, the ravingly tense little bud of passion, and touched it, stroked all around it, and let her straining orgasm pour out in a torrent of cunt fire. And a torrent of screams.
"AAAIIIEEEEEE!" Her voice was a high, keening wail, a kind of fierce joy as her onenistic fingers relieved and released her. "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! OH, MY CUNT! OH, GOD DAMN THEM BOTH! GOD DAMN THEM! FUCK THEM! AAAARRRRGGGHHH! AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!"
It had always been her nature to vocalize her outpourings of passion. Her love for sex, for her body, for every tune that could be played on any erotic spot she owned, inevitably urged her into high decibel shouts and groans of heat and fuck lust.
When her hard cum was over, bringing her relief but no joy, Connie was still on her back. At least, she thought, some of that gut-busting pressure was off her, out of her.
Her strong, beautiful thighs were wide apart, but she had released the taut and pussy-soaked strap of her nylon panties, and she had a hand full of her cunt squeezings. And she felt just a little bit sheepish.
This had been immature, to say the least. Babyish. A cop-out. She should have gone into the room with Janice and Dick and asked, in a cool, calm tone: "What the hell's going on around here?"
"Yeah. Fine. If you could manage it. But Connie, deep in her confused and sorely hurt mind and heart, knew she could never have cut it. How could she? How? How? And what could she do tonight? And tomorrow?
What she did was automatically pick up her bundles and packages that she had brought home from shopping, and go quietly out the door. Not waiting to see if Dick and Janice had been alerted by her screams of lust and crazy sexual spasms.
Once outside, and in her car, she sat for a few moments, looking blindly through the windshield. Trying to think. Unable to. At last, giving up trying to think, she struck her palm on the steering wheel.
"I can't face them," she said aloud. "Not now. I can't-fight them. Hurt them. And it's so weird that I, Connie Haire, nearly forty years old, would go so crazy finger-fucking myself!" She shivered, sitting in her car on that warm summer day. "Why?" she asked of herself, of the world. "Why? Oh, God, please help me!"
That was three weeks ago. She had managed to live. To face the two of them. Even to act naturally, to keep herself cool but friendly. Because she had to learn, to find out, what it was all about. Not to lash out, to bust things up, although she occasionally felt as if only violence could help.
She was even able to hug Janice, to kiss her, to be interested in her clothes, her school work, her problems.
Her problems? God above us! What problems did that kid have that matched hers, Connie's? Maybe the problem of looking her mother in the eye each day, of carrying on an illegal, incestuous, depraved relationship with her father. Stepfather, of course, Connie corrected herself mentally. She had thought it, three weeks ago, when she had first seen them. She thought it now, as she lay with her strong, healthy body still tingling from that morning fuck with Dick.
That had been the shock of her life. Three weeks ago. But when had it started? That first discovery, surely that hadn't been the first time. Could it? Impossible.
Actually, it had begun almost two months before that fateful day when Connie had found them, naked and happy, in Janice's bed. Begun in pain and anguish, in fear and wrath, and in the horrible fear that only a girl can have.
Connie was a good citizen. She believed she owed more to the world than just taking up space, paying her bills, giving to the United Fund or to Red Cross. It took a lot of her time to do as much community work as Connie did, but she gave the time, lovingly. She was at a civic meeting, or maybe it was a charitable fund meeting, or whatever, on that night that it had begun.
And Dick was sitting quietly, reading a book, when he heard a rush of feet on the front porch, heard the door wrenched open, and then his daughter-he always thought of her as his daughter-was on him, sobbing, face contorted with fear and indignation, streaked with tears.
He was completely aware that she had been growing up this past year. And, being a normal sort of guy, interested in pussy, no matter whose pussy it was, he had watched the budding voluptuousness of this teenage kid whom he loved.
Now, with her beautiful young body so completely molded to his own, he was aware of something else-her softly female solidity, the aroma of a grown woman's aroused genitalia, the pressure of her breasts on his chest.
And there was something else. Something from the girl. Unconscious, perhaps, but there you go-she had her soft young ass on his lap, and its pressure was doing things to his cock.
For a minute or two, he simply held the lovely young girl to him, stroking her back as if she had been a small child. Once, as he stroked all the way down her back, and realized she had no panties on under her summery dress, his hand went low enough for him to realize that she certainly wasn't a small child.
It gave him a shock, that he could feel this way. Conscious of her fine young breasts on him, of the softly maturing contours of her ass, of the warmth of her in his crotch. But he had a greater shock when, her sobs decreasing, she pulled back to look at him with her face all blurred by tears and shame.
Every man who has a daughter sees her body, in its entirety, from time to time. At a certain time in a girl's life, roughly about the time of the first hairs on her little snatch, both she and her mother form a committee to prevent old dad from enjoying the sight of his female child in bare-ass splendor. So, Dick had been aware of the changes in Jannie's body without being fully posted on the details. In her nice-girl nighties, it was obvious that she had boobs. Pretty good ones, as a matter of fact. How long had it been since he had really looked? Dick didn't know. But now, he saw them, plain. And close up.
Somehow, little Jannie's pretty dress had been torn, right down the front. As she pulled back to look at Dick with pleading eyes, her breasts, very large, startlingly large on a girl so young, so slender, swung out in pink-and-white voluptuousness. Perfect in size and shape. Globes, true, but their weight made them pear-shaped. Big targets of shiny, pinky-brown flesh, each centered by a hard nipple. A hard nipple? Experience told Dick that such hardening usually meant sexual arousal. Oh, cold weather, rubbing on a sweater, many other things could bring a flush of heat to a girl's breasts. But, if a girl is naturally hot-and Jannie would be, of course, since she would take after her mother-then almost anything of a sexual or sexual nature could bring titties to life.
That twist in Dick's mind held him just long enough for him to take a good look at those lovely, bare breasts. And then, seeing a deep scratch on one, and two bruises on the other, he lost all objectivity, lost his interest in sex for a moment, and became what he was, a father.
He was a strong man. He stood up, with Janice's arms around his neck, and strode swiftly to her bedroom. His heart was pounding. For once in their married life, he resented the fact that Connie was not at home. Something bad had happened, and he wasn't sure he'd know how to handle it.
But Janice was hard for him to put down. Her smooth, strong young arms were around his neck, holding him so tightly that he had to lean down to get her weight out of his arms and on to the bed. And, since his position was awkward and uncomfortable, leaning over her, it seemed natural for him to lie down beside her. And there they were. Facing each other, because the girl whirled to press her face into his neck, to throw her arms around him. And her warm young body nestled very naturally against his.
He was still fighting mad at whatever, whomever, had harmed his daughter, but he knew he had to control himself. So he asked, softly: "Jannie, are you hurt, baby? What happened?"
She clung to him, pressing her softly nubile body against him. "OHHHHHH! OH, DADDY DICK!" she wailed, a voice of pure tragedy. "THEY HURT ME! THEY WERE SO BAAADDDD!" OHHHHHH!" And she shivered, but she pulled his hand up to her breast, the one with the long scratch. Her voice came down a notch or two. "Oh, daddy, it was awful!"
Again he fought back black rage.
"Whoa, baby," he begged. His hand stayed on her warm, soft breast, and his finger and thumb absently shaped the hard nipple, giving him a tremor in his cock. "Whoa up, there. Begin at the beginning. You say 'they' hurt you. Who? And how?"
She reached nervously down, her soft hand seeking her belly, and he was so startled that he raised up. He had not thought of rape. She had simply gone over to Mary McCarty's, a couple of blocks away. To do a little home work and listen to records. He was half out of his mind with anger and grief.
He rolled away, got on his knees, and raised his daughter's skirt. He had been right. No panties. And there, right under his eyes, for the first time in a long while, saw her sweet little cunt, almost as it had been when she was a baby. Almost, but not quite.
There was no denying, she wasn't a little girl any more. The softly divided little cunt lips were as fat and thick as a grown woman's. There was a little bush of dark, curly hair just above the beginning of her slit. And a few, barely visible hairs straggling down the fat, ripening lips of her sex.
Involuntarily, wanting to know all, expecting to see virgin blood from a ruptured maidenhead, Dick Haire drew his daughter's firm, lovely thighs apart. And it was almost too much for him.
Actually, the thick outer lips were opening. They were as soft and smooth as any baby girl's, true. But under them, beginning to show as they came open, there were the slick, wet, pink labia of the mature female. Without conscious intention, he stroked softly all around the smooth, almost hairless opening, and his daughter suddenly bucked and moaned.
"Ohhhhhh! Am I all right, daddy? OH, PLEASE!" This jerky scream as he pressed on her mound. "OH, DADDY! Am I all right?" Her young body undulated; more reactively than Dick, she had pumped up at his fingers. He looked at her, saw her eyes were open and staring at him, realized she was taut with fear and nerves.
"You're all right, lambie," he said as steadily as he could. "As far as I can see. What happened? Did someone-uh, you know-did some boy-try anything?"
He felt like an idiot. I should be asking her plain questions, he thought. Damn Connie! I wish she were here. Why the hell can't I just talk to her the same way I would to another girl? And somewhere far back in his mind, there was an answer: You're afraid to ask what you want to ask, in a way the kid can understand.
He shook his head. And now, smiling and much more at ease, he said: "Baby, I'm sorry to sound so idiotic. Did some guy rape you? Or try to?"
And now, Janice seemed to become easier, too. She kept her dress pulled up, so that he could see her lovely little twat, her smooth, softly muscled belly. But not far enough up to cover those fantastic titties. And she smiled.
"I don't know, daddy," she said, with a sort of hiccup that was the echo of a sob. "I think they would have, maybe. If I hadn't fought and yelled. Or maybe they were just trying to scare me. Daddy, what did you do a minute ago? Down there, I mean?" And she ran her small hand right down to her pussy. "It felt so nice," she said in a low voice, closing her eyes. "So tender. Would you-is it all right to ask you? Would you do it again?"
He put his hand again on his daughter's pussy. Her thighs opened wider. He ran his fingers down each side, touching the outside of the thick cunt flaps, pressing on her groin. At the bottom of the slit, where he felt the slickness of cuntal moisture, he pressed his fingers sharply into the tenderest outer parts a girl has.
"OHHHHH! OHHHHH! DADDY! THAT'S IT! THAT'S WHERE IT'S AT!"
The girl was quivering, holding his arm. "Oh, daddy, that feels so good it kind of scares me!"
For all his sophistication, Dick Haire felt a strange, guilty clutch of fear deep in his abdomen. He remembered it through the layers of time which separated him from his teens. The gut feeling that had almost made him sick with first lust, the very first time he got his cock into a girl. He licked his lips, smiling stiffly. His cock, now very hard, was giving him embarrassment and discomfort. It was down his leg instead of up. In its need to rise, it gave the sensation of breaking off at the root. In his pain, he moved involuntarily, and the girl cried out: "No! No! Please, daddy, don't leave me!" At the same time, her hands blindly groped for him, and one of them came, as if by instinct, right to his cock.
He felt the sick excitement rise in him, seeming to choke off his breath, to grind in his guts as a sort of sickness which was, at the same time, incredibly beautiful. And the feel of his child's hand on his hard prick was unbelievable-even through the soft flannel, he felt the warmth and human softness of her fingers as she gripped him.
The young girl had no need to pick up this breathless, hard-held heat from her father. It had been burning in her, a part of her fear, as she had run home from her friend's home. It had throbbed in her youthful but mature inner organs as she had sat on her dad's lap. She had been as conscious of the warmth and life in his genitals as he had been of hers. And a need to share her fear and anguish, to lessen her chaotic and insensate guilt by a kind of confession had seemed to force her to fling her bare breasts into Dick's face.
Now, each second, each movement, each thought seemed to move her inevitably toward something she dared not think of, but which she was incapable of resisting. She had actually never seen a man's sex organs until tonight, and then only in a brief flash of fear that seared her young mind. Oh, on baby boys, of course; every girl who makes an honest buck at baby-sitting sees baby pricks. And once, in a sickly adventurous moment behind their garage, a ten-year-old kid had shown her his hard, miniature cock.
But she knew what a cock was, and what it was for. Other than to pee through, that is. And now, so fevered that she was almost in a deathly faint, she held one. A huge one. And loved it with a trembling, helpless, sickening wave of unspecified, un-understood lust.
The young girl's grip was painful, and Dick spoke through his teeth: "Let go, baby! Please let go! I have to change, uh, I mean I have to-DAMN IT!" he shouted, and managed to jerk away from his young stepdaughter, who covered her face with her hands.
He knelt on the bed, hurting in cock and groin, and quickly ran his zipper down. He reached into his shorts, handling his cock with caution, realizing it might explode jism all over both of them, leading to even more embarrassment, more complications.
He looked at it, shaking his head, and himself nearly fainted when his daughter reached out her soft, warm hand and took it, as naturally as if she had been her mother, just between hairy base and purple head.
He was aware that this was murder, pure murder. But he, like Janice, had some sort of inner gyroscope, both emotional and sexual, that was steering him unwaveringly at a tangent to his moral precepts. He knew he was risking everything, including his own self-esteem, but the unrelenting pull of that inner force was moving him beyond any hope of halting. But he tried.
"Come on, baby," he said, trying to laugh through dry lips. "Enough's enough. Tell me about your, well, how you got your dress torn. About how those guys tried to rape you. If they did. OHHHHHHHHH! OH, GOD, SWEETHEART! DON'T DOOOOOO THAAA TTTTTT!"
The "that" he choked on was a soft, rhythmic forward-backward movement of her hand-and, naturally, the softly enclosing skin on his cock-which was sweeter and lighter than any hand job he had ever had, softer and sweeter, it seemed to him, than any love play he had ever known. But the very enormity of shooting sperm over his nearly nude child helped him to keep from squirting it over her and her bed. But it was a very near thing. And there was something else that gripped him.
The little girl-who certainly looked big enough, with those breasts rolling on her ribs-had a sickly pleading look like that of a dog punished unjustly. Tears were rolling silently from her eyes, which looked blankly-and piteously up at Dick.
When his hand closed automatically on hers, stopping the frigging motion, she tried to smile, and murmured: "I'm sorry, daddy. So sorry. Oh, daddy! I didn't mean to hurt you!"
She was so pitiful that he dropped down beside her, pulling her to him, and once more her big breasts were burning him right through the thin fabric of his shirt. His naked cock was in some sort of contact with the girl's warm flesh, he could not be sure where. But anywhere on her body, he knew, the skin would be so thrillingly soft and smooth and warm that its contact would invite orgasm.
He smoothed her dark hair from her forehead. "Don't, baby," he pleaded, and realized with a shock that his voice had the same cock-throb as when he was making love to his wife. Or another woman. "Tell me what happened. Let's try to quiet down. Both of us." But he was so desolate, in some age-old and pagan part of his mind, at passing up this incredible bit of potential joy.
But the girl choked out: "I need you to help me, Daddy Dick! Really! Not mom! I couldn't ask her-I mean, I couldn't tell her what happened to me. Can't you see? It might-honest, daddy, if I told her, it might get to be too big a thing. Don't you see?"
Strangely, Dick Haire "saw". Or thought he did. And, also a strange thing, it made him feel more a father than he ever had. Fuck the old myths and taboos! This kid was his, as much as if she had grown from a seed from his own loins. He did not know what had happened. But he knew in his guts that anything having to do with kid sex, unimportant in the larger scale of years, innocent in its origins, might blow a mother's mind. Might lead to too much noise, too many accusations, just a whole God damned unnecessary pile of trouble.
The thought steadied him, brought back his innate maleness, cooled the childish fear that he might explode his big load of semen if little Janice so much as moved.
He laughed. Unconsciously, he even seemed to fuck at the slim, warm young girl, although really, he was only making an adjustment of his cock for its comfort. But he made no move to put it away.
Even when the girl, making a soft noise of pleasure, nestled her face against his neck and put her warm little hand on his cock again, he felt comfortable and good, and in command of himself.
"Of course, chickie," he whispered. "I know what you mean. Go on, little doll, tell me what happened."
Chapter Three
In the soft light of Janice's bedside lamp, which one of them-Dick was not sure which one-had turned on, the girl's tale came out in a rush of words, of gasps and sighs and little moans. And piteous questions: "Was that so wrong, that I didn't leave right then?" or "Do all boys want to do those things to girls?" And, of course, more. But it didn't take long.
Jannie had gone to Mary McCarty's to study. "She's better than I am at math." And to listen to records. And then Betsy Blair had come by with Pat Lake and two boys, Roy Willard and Sammy Priest. And then Dave Burton and Harry Tenison.
"They got to dancing, that old fashioned stuff, holding each other. And Roy said something terrible!" She burrowed her face into his neck.
Roy had said: "Look! Mary's giving me a dry fuck!" And while Janice's mind was still reeling with the word, and the implications of Roy Willard having said it so boldly-well, didn't it mean that he knew it was okay to say it? And didn't they all share that feeling?-anyway, while she was still sort of, you know, daddy, numb, everything sort of went crazy. That was the gist of the quick story.
Pressed for detail, she choked off. But Dick kindly took her hiding hands away from her flushed face, sensing her need to tell, and said: "Listen, my dear little love. You said you needed to tell me. So you By God better tell me, so I can judge it all, and help you if I can. And I think this will help: I know, or I think, that you're as 'innocent' as any thirteen-year-old kid is nowadays. But you talk with other girls. You know the easy language as well as I do. If you want to say 'fuck' or 'screw' or 'prick' or 'cock', do so. Go on now. How did everything go crazy?"
She looked at him worshipfully, her eyes wide and clear. This was, indeed, what she needed. "Oh, Daddy Dick, thank you! That is what I need. Well, maybe I might not say 'fuck', that's kind of awful, isn't it?" But she grinned. "But you're so good to help me."
Yeah, he thought, and I'm going to go to bed with the damndest stone ache I ever had. Even in this reality, he acknowledged later, he had not thought of sticking this hard-on into his wife's warm and loving pussy. Weird! This just seemed to be something between him and Janice. And he tried to smile back at little Jannie, his "baby" for twelve long, sweet years. His baby! And the need to fuck her, to stick his cock brutally into her small, soft lipped, leaking little pussy was making him weak.
"So tell me," he croaked. "What did they do then?"
She reached up, got her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her breath was sweet, like a baby's. She seemed no longer afraid.
"Well," she said slowly, "I nearly fainted. If Roy could say that, and Mary didn't scream, it meant that he could, well, do the real thing. Oh, daddy," and she flushed and turned her eyes away. "Didn't it mean he really could, uh, fuck her? And they all began to laugh, and wrestle around, and somehow, Roy's zipper was open, and he-oh, daddy! I know it's stupid, but it's so hard to say!"
He touched her on her warm, smooth belly. I used to tickle her when she was little, he thought. His scalp felt tight. "I'll help you," he said. "Roy got his cock out. But did he do anything? Like, well, did he stick it into Mary?"
"Daddy," the girl whispered, blushing and keeping her eyes closed, "He put it in her mouth! She was kneeling on the floor, and Roy said: 'Come on, Mary Mac, gimme a little blow-job.' Ugh! Can you believe it?"
Dick, who had seen the poised, smiling, well built little Mary on many occasions, thinking of how it would be to have her suck his cock, shuddered, but not from disgust. "It's not so bad, baby," he said earnestly. "Lots of women and girls-most of 'em, if you want my opinion-do that very little thing." His mouth was still dry, but as he ran his hand farther down, touching the soft split in his daughter's body, felt the moisture welling out, his mouth filled with an unexpected gush of saliva.
Janice was excited. As he touched the top of her small, tender split, she lunged up at him, actually flung her loins up so that his big finger slid into the soft, slick valley between her cunt lips. She was almost crazy with the boiling need to find release. The scene at Mary's had left her reeling. What had happened to her, to her own young, healthy body, had been frightening, dreadful, but somehow, insanely pleasurable.
And Dick-well, he could feel every thundering heartbeat, somehow, in the palpitating, screaming cum-nerves in his cock. "Don't touch me, baby," he grunted, knowing it sounded crazy, since he was busily engaged in touching her. In fact, he was as far out of it as the girl was, and he could no longer deny that he was going to cum. Or go crazy, for certain.
To soften his mood, in a desperate attempt to escape this ultimate result of what had started as a desire-a genuine parental impulse-to help this child, he said in a strange voice: "But, dear, are you sure Mary, uh, went along with this, uh, behavior?" Common sense inside him said: Don't be stupid, stupid. These kids learn to suck cock as soon as they learn to piss hard against the ground. It gave him a strange thrill to hear his daughter giggle. Good! So she hadn't really been damaged by the exhibition.
"Daddy, that's one of the things that scared me. Mary loved it! She was holding it with her hand, and looking up at him-OOOH! DADDY! STOP! PLEASE DON'T, DADDY! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH, DADDY!"
He had never removed his finger from her humid, soft little cunt, or at least the upper valley, and his daughter had been, possibly unconsciously, fucking against it. But so gently that he hadn't noticed. But now, the cramp in his forearm made him realize, in a burst of chaotic feeling, that he had been encouraging her, rubbing his finger all around where he very well knew her inflamed clit to be.
"NO! NO! DADDY! PLEASE DON'T!" the girl was screaming. But she was holding onto his wrist with both hands, and trying to get her strong young thighs up and around his arm, and she was humping up and down like a machine. And, in a fearfully sick sense of triumph, Dick knew she was cumming. How hot! How marvelous! His hard cock was only an inch or two from the deep, soft crease of her buttocks. One or two slight plunges, and he would shoot this heavy load all over the kid's sweet little butt, all over her unhaired asshole.
"OHHHHHH!" the girl screamed, her body thrashing, a sort of undulation that was keyed to the rhythm of her hoarse screaming. "OOOOOOHHH! OOOOOOH! OOOOOOHH! OH, GOD, DADDY, IT'S SO GOOOOOODDD! OH, PLEASE, DADDY! DON'T! STOP! DON'T! STOP!"
But there was no real plea in her voice. Rather, it was a paean of triumph, a throat-ripping cry of pleasure too great to bear in silence. "AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH DADDY! GIVE IT TO ME! HELP ME, DADDY! HEEELLLPPP MEEE!"
He held her as her body flung itself up and around in wild gyrations, afraid she might throw herself off the bed and be hurt. The warm contact with her smooth, warm flesh, the feel of his hands as they slipped on her perspiring body, would have driven him up the wall except that he had to concentrate on holding the girl. Her breasts were flopping, their soft weight making them jerk up and down from side to side. At one point, as Jannie was about to get away from him, he sunk his head and shoulders onto her chest, and one of her breasts kept bobbing up and hitting him in the face.
"OHHHHHH!" the girl moaned, and now her squirming was less violent, and her voice less strident. "OHHHHHH! OH, DADDY DICK! OHHHHHH!" And her body suddenly went limp, and she was lying quiet, her heart pounding and racing, her breath fast and deep, like a tired runner.
His head was still on her chest, and they were both sweating very hard. He opened his mouth to say something, and tasted sweat, either his or hers, he did not know. Janice was patting him and rubbing him on his cheek, his ear, down his neck, and crooning "That was sooo sweeeeeet! Oh, daddy, thank you for giving me that!" Her voice was soft and low, like a song of abated lust.
He got up on his elbow to look at the girl. Her face was much softer, freer from strain, and her lips seemed fuller. They were slack, too, and a long, thick thread of clear saliva ran from one corner of her mouth, down her cheek, disappearing into her sweat soaked hair, and he had to swallow quickly, for his mouth was full of spit, too, and his heart was slamming against his ribs, also, making it hard for him to speak. But he got it out.
"God, kid," he gasped, "you sure as hell got off, didn't you? Like to've gone through the ceiling." He grinned and, on impulse, he dropped his hand and kissed her on the softly rounded upper slope of one breast. At once her body began to move in hard, purposeful motions, and he drew back, laughing.
"You're hotter than your mom," he said, feeling a warm inner glow of family closeness, talking of such things to his daughter as she lay so close to him. "What got you off like that?" He started to touch her, but waited.
The girl turned and hid her flushed face against him. Her entire body was a deep pink from her cum, and her breasts, so large for a girl her age, were larger and heavier. Charged with a natural rush of blood as the wave of orgasm had lashed her. Her nipples were very large, very hard, their deeply creased, grainy tissue dark from her racing blood, too.
"Well," her voice came shakily, with a tiny shred of laughter, "you were tickling me. Down there." She laughed again and said boldly: "I mean in my pussy. My, uh, well," she stopped, the red tide of blushing again sweeping her.
"In your cunt, baby," he whispered. "Don't ever be afraid to be frank and open with the Old Man, right? Sure, I guess I was sort of, well, touching you with my finger. But it was something else."
Her entire body seemed to jerk. "Oh, yesss!" she breathed. "Now I know! I was telling you about what happened at Mary's. I guess I must be kind of crazy." She licked her lips. "To let it make me so, uh, silly. So hot. But while Mary was holding Roy's THING, his cock, that is, he began to shoot off. Right in her face! UGH! It was so awful!" She looked at Dick out of the corners of her eyes.
Dick didn't answer, and the young girl asked again: "Well, wasn't it awful? For him to shoot off? Right there in the room with everyone else? That is what they call it, isn't it? Shooting off?" She sounded aggrieved, defensive.
Dick's heart was still pounding. And again he saw Mary, compact, beautifully rounded little Mary, holding a spurting cock. One which she, undoubtedly, had caused to spurt. He closed his eyes, holding back his own spurts of cock juice. And he kissed his daughter. On the cheek, and very lightly.
"Yeah, shooting off. Or ejaculation, in the books they give you in Sex Education." He laughed. "Most people just call it cumming. But I expect you know that, baby."
She flushed. "Of course, daddy. But there's so much I don't know. And oh, golly, daddy! How I want to learn! That's why I was so glad that mom wasn't at home! Oh, daddy, I couldn't tell her about it!" She was trembling. "Seeing that white stuff fly out, all over Mary! No wonder I had that awful fit. Of cumming," she added. "Yesss! Oh, yesss, daddy! Oh, boy, I sure came, didn't I?"
She was pressing against him again, and she whispered: "I guess I was pretty noisy, wasn't I? When I came, I mean. I don't cum all that much or all that often." Her voice was coming out quickly, in brittle little sentences, her breath catching. Her dad knew she was full of tension. She was entranced with the very idea of saying "I came," and "cumming". It was getting her hot again. He hugged her.
"Easy, baby," he said. "Sure, you came like a fire engine. You liked it, didn't you? And you have cum before."
She hid her flushed young face in his chest again. "I loved it," she acknowledged. "It was the best I ever did it. Oh, daddy, it's so much more fun when you do it with someone else. Someone you love! OHHHHHH! IT HURTS ME! OH, DADDY! I'M SO BAAADDD!" She hunched her body rapidly, and then she sighed deeply: "Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! I was doing it again, daddy!" She giggled. "I couldn't help it. Is it true, what you said, that it wasn't so terrible of Mary to do that thing? To take Roy's penis in her mouth? I sure never thought that one of my friends-ugh! But you said it's natural."
"Sure is," Dick said, with more force than necessary. "Very nice people do it all the time. It's all right, baby. Really! Uh, listen. Did he shoot it all over Mary?"
Janice gave a little giggle, sounding very young. "Oh, I think she knew it was coming," she said. "She pulled it out of her mouth and gave it a shake and looked up at Roy and said: 'I believe the damned thing's stopped up!' And then she sucked on it, or gave it a kiss, or something. And it began to shoot! Lots of it. But you know," the girl said slowly, "one blast of it hit her right in the face, splattered all over her, but she got the hard old thing right in her mouth and began swallowing that, uh, whatchacallem." Her shiver was of pure lust, and she put one hand on her breast, pressing it hard, while a look of deep concentration gripped her young features.
"She sucked him off," Dick said in a choked voice. "She really blew him. Swallowed it all. Beautiful!"
He rolled on to his back, covering his eyes with the back of one hand. Maybe the room temperature would reduce this hard-on. It was getting to be too much. He felt little Janice stir alongside him, and gratefully thought: Well, maybe she's had enough. If she'll only get up and leave, it'll help. Jesus! I've got to get this load off my balls!
To his shock, he felt a warm touch on his hard cock, and Jan's whisper: "Is it all right if I look at him, daddy? Except for what I saw at Mary's, and babies, I never saw one. And never up close."
He controlled his voice with an effort. "Oh, sure, baby. Look all you want." But don't breathe on it, his mind said in a sort of wry humor. Unless you want to get a blast a hellofa lot bigger than Roy gave Mary.
He felt her soft hand gently moving his dick as if she meant to turn it every way but loose, so that she could see everything. He heard her sigh, felt the fleeting warmth of her breath. He tried to think of something far away. This was getting to be just too much. His imagination was killing him. But he concentrated on business. Freezers were going great. Every client in the county, over a hundred of them, were yelling for freezers.
He was succeeding. There was a wet, warm feeling around his cockhead, but no longer that hard, dry, jerk-off feeling of need. It was soft and sweet. He almost felt he could go to sleep. If he did, he might roll over and touch his cock to the sheet, and he would begin to cum. Yes, like this lovely feeling. So soft. He was about to cum. Just a faint throb, far down in his balls. Well, it was such a sweet, tender feeling. Soft and warm and wet. And the lightest possible touch. "I'm cumming," he whispered to himself. "Must be asleep. Sleep! Ooooooohhh! OOOOOOHHHHHH! OWWW! OWWW!"
The heavily beating throbs of orgasm were at their full, and he tried to sit up, tried to find himself. His cock was in his own daughter's mouth, and it was cumming! "OH, GOD!" he cried. "OH, GOD!" And then: "Stop it! STOP IT, I SAY!"
As he screamed this, he made a hard, sweeping motion of his hand and knocked the young girl's head away from his spouting cock. He would never forget her face, so hurt, so appealing, with his cum running down from each corner of her mouth. He felt so terrible, seeing how he had crushed her spirit, that he reached for her and held her above his jerking prick, saying: "Go on, baby! It's all right! Go on, get on it!"
She looked at him shyly through upturned lashes, her smile back again. Her little hand held his big cock and she opened her mouth to a big, pink oval and went down on him again. It was the damnedest thing in nature, the way a girl instinctively knew how to suck a man's prick. How she knew to open wide, to stick her tongue out to slick it with spit that would help it in and clear the way into her throat. And then to take it in so deep, clear down into her gullet, well past her tonsils. And that's exactly what little Jannie was doing.
He was sitting up, his legs out at an angle, his big body braced on his back thrust arms. He had a deep quake of fear buried somewhere inside him, but he knew he could deal with that, later. When he had to. But right now, unh-unh. He would just watch as this young and beautiful girl, his daughter, finished sucking him off.
His daughter! She looked so young, so vulnerable, such a child! Her blouse bunched up under her arms. Her young titties were hanging down, looking bigger than he had ever seen them. He reached and pulled on them, and then, as Jannie sucked more fiercely, he took her by the ears and said "Whoa, baby," in a gentle voice. "Stop. It's all done. You've got it all."
She continued to crouch there, the beautiful little rump so wide open as he looked down her back. She was panting, he could see and feel how she was shaking, but she mouthed his limbering dick softly and sweetly. With her spit and his semen, her mouth felt very wet and slick and loose and warm. Like a relaxed cunt, when you leave your tool in and keep it moving so it will stay hard for another fuck. The two-hour kind.
But, now that it was over, he wanted to see the girl's face, to talk to her, to answer all her eager, childishly curious queries. She was swallowing, slowly swallowing his jism, and the movements of her tongue and cheeks were very lovely on his nerve-taut cock. He said softly: "Lie on your side, baby; I'll leave it in your mouth," and he curled his leg and shoved her shoulder gently, so that they could lie together. His face was now quite near the juncture of her thighs with her body. So slim, and yet so womanly-wide at this point! His heart thrilled.
He moved closer to her, and felt her head move as she feverishly tried to follow his prick. "It's all right, baby," he said huskily. "I just want to look at you. You know," and he laughed, "the way you looked at me."
Her leg suddenly came up so that her soft young pussy was in plain view. He took hold of her knee and brought the leg up and across his ribs, the motion making her slit seem twice as long. The red-veined inner lips stuck out of her like tiny slices of pale liver, as slick as nature and her cunt drippings could make them.
He said quietly: "Raise your leg a little. Your knee. Put your foot against me. There, that's it. Oh, baby, it's so sweet!"
He knew how hot she was, and realized that getting his nuts off, licking his cream, having this first complete, wild experience, would have brought her to an even higher level. But he thirsted for the juicy warmth, the clear, sweet ooze from her cunt, and for the soft, smooth, wetly delightful textures of her youthful pussy. To give her one final cum, that would be a blessing, not a wrong.
He luxuriated for a few moments in the pleasure of having his depleted cock mouthed by this tender young chickie, so close to him in every way. Her breasts were just touching his belly; they felt smooth and warm against him.
With his fingers, he very gently pressed on both sides of her thick cunt lips, pulling them wide open. This was the same spot where he had pressed when she had asked him to "please do that again," so short a time ago. Just to touch her! And now they were both into it very deeply, committed to-well, what in hell were they committed to, really? To helping each other, that was all. Really, he was helping her, as she had begged him to. But the piercingly sweet, heady aroma from her gamey little cunt swept all that rationalizing nonsense out of his head.
He could feel her body tense. She was smarter than he had been. She expected him to assault her young cunt with mouth and tongue, to kiss her clitoris, to suck on her streaming, quivering little hole. Indeed, her strong young body was making a soft, pleading fuck motion, thrusting those soft, thick lips toward his mouth. He could hear her moaning: "MMMMMMMMMMMM! MMMMMMMMMMMM!" And he knew that she was, already, on the razor edge of another big orgasm.
He wasted no time. With his eager mouth wide open, he went down on her spread of wetly shining labia, licking carefully and well around her jumping, jerking clit. The amount of juice he got was incredible. She exuded that sweet-salt fluid like a grown woman. Like a very hot grown woman. And her body's response was in keeping.
She shot her body toward him so hard that his lower lip was smashed against the solidity of her pubic arch. Her curly cunt hair grated sweetly across his chin, and the straggling hairs along the fat, rounded outer lips tickled his cheeks, his nose. He could feel when the child began to cum, and again he had to hold her as her lithe, firm body launched into its sexual orbit. Her inner thighs were smooth and hot against his cheeks, her strong buttock muscles were clasping and relaxing as the flow of sex heat, bursting far up inside her young vagina, almost seemed to warm his face as it shook her body.
"OH ME!" the child cried in a high, choking wail. "THAT'S TOO MUCH, DADDY! TOOOOOO MUUUUUUCCCHHHHHH! OH MY GOODNESS! OH, GOD! OH, MY CUNT, DADDY! PLEASE DO ME! PLEASE EAT MEEEEEE! OHHHHHHHHH!"
The long, high wail dropped to a succession of groans. "OOOH! OOOOOOH! UMMMMMMMMM! UMMMMMMMMM!"
She was fucking very hard against him, not drawing her body back to slam against his face, but in long, slow, up-and-back motions which rubbed her open, streaming cunt against his mouth and lips and chin, against his nose and forehead. And all the time, he knew she was cumming. His own cock had grown hard again, supercharged with jism at the very idea of sucking this child and having her suck him. He had thought he would be dry in the balls, but he somehow had his cock against her soft neck, under her chin, between her jaw and shoulder. It was slick from semen and spit, and her neck was almost as smooth as her mouth. Or her cunt. And the taste and flavor and response he was getting as he licked her pussy was enough to drive him wild. When he felt his nuts begin to pop, it was too late to do anything about it. He was shooting his cum against her neck and chin, and some of it had to be running down her breasts.
She was so hot and so happy, so far above herself, that she let the hot jets of her dad's seed strike her three of four times, clasping her orgasming cunt together to get the most joy from that, and then she deliberately opened her mouth. She held his cock and let the slick juice shoot in, grinning, lascivious, swallowing the rich sperm, licking her lips, feeling the flutter of a final surge of cumming inside her cunt.
When his last weak burst of the pale, thick, hot fluid throbbed out, she hastily put the red head in her mouth and sucked, hoping to get any stray drops lingering inside the penis. When she felt she had it all, she fell back, her breasts quaking.
"OOOOOOOOOHHH, DADDY!" she moaned. "OOOOOOOOOHHH! How lovely! OH, THANK YOU! DADDY! OHHHHHHHHH!" Her entire body surged in a great heave as his face fell against her opened split. She was so sensitized that the merest touch shot through her like lightning. But for the moment, although her cum nerves were raw and willing, her body felt sated.
Her dad was, in a way, stunned. In another way, he was intensely proud of himself. Two big, blasting orgasms in a matter of minutes! Wow! And knowing exactly what to do to his daughter to get her off the hook, as well as himself, without doing that dreadful thing. Without fucking her. Very carefully, holding his arm around the girl's slender but womanly rump, he poked his finger directly into her fuck hole. As far as he could tell, it did not meet an obstacle. Oh, well, some girls lost maidenheads by riding a bike, or a pony. Or from a cucumber, he mentally added.
There was a mutter of a car's engine in the drive outside, and he got up, smacking his daughter's ass playfully. "Your mom is home," he said unnecessarily.
The girl lay on her back, smiling dreamily. Her powerful young thighs were spread apart, and he could see the wet look of her pink inner cunt lips and the seepage of pussy juice down her crack, disappearing between her buttocks. She was smiling dreamily, the back of one small, warm hand against her lips. A car door slammed.
"Get up, baby," he grinned. "Get your nightie on and get under the covers. I'll be taking a shower. 'Bye!"
He knew it would still take Connie a couple of minutes to close the garage door and get her keys out. Their room was at the front. Their bath had a door on the hall, and he went in, quickly turning on the taps, getting his clothes off. He was in there, soaping his cock and balls, singing happily, when Connie opened the door.
"Hi, baby," he called above the splashing water. "Have a good meeting?"
"Oh, all right, I guess," his wife replied. "But I got the curse. Two days early, damn it!" She opened the shower door and felt his soapy prick. "You could have me, anyway, darling," she said. "But I'd sure be messy."
"It's all right, dear," he said. "I'm okay. But maybe in the morning, right?"
She stroked his cock again. "Wonderful man," she whispered. And she meant it. He had made her life good for twelve years. What a marvelous husband he was to her. And what a wonderful father to little Janice!
Chapter Four
Dick had thought he would go right off to sleep. After all, for a guy forty-four years old, two big loads of fuck juice, both shot in less than a half-hour, you'd have to figure he'd be drained.
But, if perhaps his balls were emptied, at least his mind wasn't.
He had been so concerned with the immediate beauty and appeal of little Jannie's body that he couldn't stay on the subject of the party which had started it all. What had they done to her? Besides inflame her mind by a little exhibition of sucking, that is. What else had happened? He turned in the bed, trying to keep down mental pictures of a house full of pubescent kids, letting it all hang out, fucking on the sofa, the floor.
Unaccountably, his cock throbbed. By God, if Connie were asleep, he'd go back to Janice right now, and get all the lovely details.
Had they tried anything with her? Must have. The bruise on one titty, the scratch on the other. Her dress ripped. And her panties gone completely. Something had happened.
He knew that girls, especially when they're in a show-off mood, as Mary McCarty had obviously been, can be wilder, tougher, more cruel than boys. Particularly where another girl is concerned.
He could imagine little Jannie, shocked at the lascivious picture of a big boy spurting his semen all over a girl who has been sucking him off, making a protest. Frightened as much by her own heat as by the seeming vulgarity of open sexual exhibitionism. It almost made his cock begin to rise. It did throb again.
They could have held her down, letting the boys-four of them, wasn't that what Jannie had said?-feel her up, maybe lick at her sweet little slit. And, in the violent horseplay, her light dress could have been ripped. A little rough, getting a bleeding scratch on that tender little boob.
He remembered those breasts, and how they had swollen to much greater size when she had fired her little joy gun. God damn it, she was a hot little kid! He thought of the times she had writhed and screamed in orgasms that were certainly not little-girl stuff. Like a grown woman. Like her mother.
His mind painted an active, brightly colored picture of Jannie with her young, beautifully rounded ass bare, her shapely, strong legs kicking, her lightly haired little pussy growing hotter and hotter. Man, she had sure as hell been hot when she got home! It must have really stoked her, that first brush with the ruggedly lovely realities of cock-meets-cunt. He groaned unconsciously and turned back as he had been. Son of a bitch! This was terrible, letting a young kid's cunt keep him awake! But he thought of that warmly juicy little hole, and his finger going in so easily. But that was madness. He was thinking really wrong, now. Maybe my cock would go in there just as easily as my finger did. Oh, hell. Of course she would be tight. Any kid her age would be tight. Probably force the skin back off the head, maybe even hurt both of them a little.
Once again he moved restlessly, and this time something happened.
He heard Connie's sleepy voice, so kind, so warm.
"My dear, what's the matter? Can't you sleep?"
And with her hand, soft and warm and knowing, coming down to his crotch, she made a loving, wordless sound as she tenderly felt of his cock, squeezing it. She began moving her lovely, solid body, turning all the way, and Dick didn't have the heart to stop her, to tell her to forget it.
"No wonder you couldn't get to sleep, poor baby," she said in a maternal croon. "Let mama suck all that good old stuff right out. Then you'll go bye-bye." Her chuckle was rich and warm, and Dick, seeing her lovely body, almost completely naked in the dim light, thought: Oh, God, let me have a big enough load for her. Let me be able to cum real good, so she won't begin guessing.
He did not need to fake a move of his loins as Connie's warm, knowledgeable mouth took his cock into her hotly engulfing mouth. She had taught him that sex is one sport where the talented amateur is superior to the most skillful professional. As her lips and tongue and cheeks and throat muscles worked on him gently, and with love, he put his face against the softly resilient flesh and hair of her pubis. Even in menstruation, she was as clean as a cat. He could see the string of her tampon hanging out of the thick, full lips of her pussy, even fatter than usual because of her period.
It made him wonder how Jannie would be, how her cunt might look when she was undergoing the human equivalent of an animal being "in heat". Swollen cunt, protruding back of her when she was on hands and knees for a dog-fashion fuck? Sweet and appealing in odor, like her mother, even if a bit gamier?
Connie felt his big cock swell and throb, and grinned as well as she could, with this big roll of meat going clear back to her throat.
It made her suck just a wee bit harder, made her polish the head with her tongue in a more fervent stroke. And it made her appreciate her husband all the more. I'm so glad he wants me, she thought. I'm so glad we have so many ways to go. Even when I've got the rag on, and she smiled inwardly at her use of a phrase that had been old stuff even in her mother's child-bearing years.
She knew that this act of love would set her own cum juices to flowing, set her own needs and desires to making their insistent inner clamor. So, I'll lie awake a while, she mused. It's not as tough on me as it is on him.
With his face against the warmth of his wife's belly, his forehead against the smoothness of her thighs, his mind on their daughter's cute little pussy, Dick Haire should have felt like a rotten heel. But he couldn't. Maybe a little guilty, sure. But he was a pragmatist. He knew what he was-a human male. And he deeply believed that sex was good. As long as nobody got hurt. Hell, he was helping Jannie, wasn't he?
The thought of Jannie had never left him. Even when Connie had taken his cock in her mouth. Jannie wasn't as good. But, then, she hadn't the experience. So he thought of Jannie's sweet young mouth around the head of his prick, and it throbbed again. And Connie involuntarily fucked against Dick's face. Just one small movement. And his nose was again right at the top of her sweetly humid crack.
His mouth filled with saliva as he thought of the sweetness of their daughter's smooth, childish, soft lipped little snatch. The lips were almost as thick as those of this woman who was sucking him off. And almost hairless. With firm fingers, he pulled the upper part of those fat lips away from each other. And once again, he thought how sweet his wife's cunt was. Of how, even in menstruation, the fragrance might be a bit more powerful, but never offensive. Not to me, baby, he thought.
But it was really his other "baby," Janice, and her sweet little split, that he had in mind. As he sank his lips into that meaty, slick, splendidly gamey trench of woman flesh. As he licked gently around the hard and throbbing clitoris. It felt so smooth, so slick to his mouth, his tongue. And so marvelously, delightfully flavorful! Oh, Jannie, my darling! Oh, Jannie, baby, you're making me cum! You're making old daddy cum, baby! Three times!
And he was right and honest. That warmly loving mouth, so hotly sucking him, could be Jannie's. In the dark, as his lips swept around that swollen, cum-crazy little bud of gristle and nerves, that was Jannie's, too. Oh, glory! If only he could go down farther, get his mouth over that cute, sweet, pinkly bubbling little cunt hole! Suck out all its lovely juice! But he knew better. And anyhow, the thing was happening.
He felt Connie's ripe body go tense just as he felt the premonitory throbbing deep in his cock. 'Way back', 'way deep in', where the very root of the cock connects with the electric convulsions of the prostate gland, the little man who pulls the trigger for a cum. Her softly sheathed muscles grew firmer, her strong body had the momentary stillness of the crouching tiger. His tongue and lips felt the powerful flutter of cunt muscle, even up here at the top of her slit, where his lips fastened tightly over her clit. And she felt her salivary glands gush their fluids in anticipation of the rich, sticky, thick, tasty seed which were already on their way to her hard tongue, her waiting taste buds, her jism-hungry mouth.
His loins moved in hard thrusts, sending his cock deep into her loving throat, and she was fiercely glad for the painfully marvelous stretch in her muscled gullet. It meant that her lover, her husband, was getting the heavy massage he needed to coax out every drop of his load, every pushy drop of that hot, raw, man stuff that was keeping him awake.
God bless him! she thought in fierce tenderness, gently holding his balls as her own dark, gut-twisting orgasm boomed silently inside her, far up her vagina, in the pit of her belly. He's kissing it better than he ever did, she thought. How many men will eat their wife when she's got the curse?
The thrill of it tore her lips away from the wet, nerve-raw cock. In the terrible, beautiful abandon of love and cunt-fired lust, she let go her deepest emotions in screams that seemed to tear at her strong throat: "AAAIIIEEEEEEEEE! AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH! AAARRRGGGHHH! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OH MY GOD, MY GOD, MY GOD! OH BEAUTIFULLLLLLLLL! AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"
Even under the covers, it was ear piercing, and Dick, feeling his wife's convulsive grip on his penis, feeling her entire body jerk as the cuntal spasming seemed to go on and on, buried his nose and lips and tongue all the deeper in her cunt. Outside, it was fatter and far hairier than little Jannie's. Inside, in the moving slickness of raw cuntal tissue, it was the same.
In her room, with a big bath and another bedroom between, and with her solid door shut, Jannie shivered as she heard the high, carnal wail of love and orgasm.
She had scraped up all her daddy's thick, congealing semen from her sheets. It wasn't as delicious, cold, as it was fresh from the parental prick. So, she had put it into her navel to warm, and dabbing it up with her fingers, warm from her body's heat, when the passionate sound vibrated through the house.
"OOOOOOHHH!" she groaned in a sympathetic tremor of cuntal never-crawl. "OOOOOOHHH, MAMA!"
It never occurred to her that her daddy was cheating on her. Humbly, she was grateful for what he had done. And she felt no womanly competitiveness toward her mother. It was all so lovely, so warm, so sweet.
If he had expected to feel different in the morning, Dick Haire got a pleasant surprise. Because he always had, he held an arm out to Janice as she came to breakfast in the bright, many-windowed room off the kitchen. And Connie, her heart full, her guts more comfortable, smiled with deep love and pleasure as Jannie nestled against Dick and bent down for his kiss.
It was a short kiss, of course, for neither Dick nor Janice was an idiot. But the little girl's tongue speared warmly into Dick's barely opened lips, and he sucked it hard for some seconds. And her warm little belly pressed against him, telling him something heavy. Like "I can't say it, but I want your cock!"
But that had been a long time ago. Nearly three months. And after eight weeks of intimacy which increased only very slightly, but in which their mutual heat did not decrease at all, they were to the point where they took every opportunity to spend a few moments together. Anywhere. In Dick's car, when he would meet her after school. They'd go down to the Bluffs, a small community jammed up against the ocean. Sitting in the back seat. How marvelous for Jannie!
For she had never done this with a boy. After all, at thirteen, not many girls really "date" all that much. They go to little parties, or sneak away to big ones. And sometimes it's just a spontaneous get-together. Like if you went over to a girl friend's, maybe Mary McCarty's home. And some other kids came by and things got too wild. Only, Janice wasn't as scared about such things as she had been. Oh, my, no. Her daddy had given her the word on that.
"Those things are natural, baby," he had said, holding her in his arms in the back seat of the car while she gently skinned his dick up and down in her warm, soft hand. "Sex is all right, any or all of it. As long as both parties are willing, and nobody gets hurt. OOOOOOHHH! WOW! HOLD IT! HEY, JANNIE!" And she would giggle as his gush of warm, thick sperm shot into the air, and she would grin like a she-wolf as she bent to get all the subsequent shots of his load right down her pretty pink throat.
"OOOOOOHHHHHH-EEEEEE!" Dick would exclaim, shuddering in the most intense delight. "That was so good, baby! WOW! Now," and he would take his hand off her lovely little breasts-only they weren't so little, and seemed to get larger every time they played this loving game-lean back and get your legs up, and let me eat your pussy!"
It was so wet and slippery and reddened from the fire that came from sucking Dick off, so deliciously warm, so fantastically juicy, that he would drool as he got on his knees with her smooth young thighs against his cheeks. And her dry, sweet cunt hair tickling his nose while her mature cuntal aromas almost choked him with love.
"OHHH, DADDY!" Her high treble voice would ring in his ears as she grasped his dark hair. "OH, THAT'S BEAUTIFUL! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! PLEASE! OH, DADDY!" And then she'd whisper: "Little higher, daddy. There! THERE! THAT'S IT!" And her legs would wrap around his head, holding his face buried in the softly convulsing inner lips, so slick and hot, living flesh, cunt flesh, softer and" slicker and sweeter than any other woman-part in anybody's body.
Or, if there were too many folks along the Bluffs to risk going all out-or "all in" as Jannie said one day-they would sit huddled in the back seat like any other lovers. Only, under the cover of a newspaper, his cock would be in Jannie's hand, and he would be finger-fucking her. Until they both came.
And between whiles, they would talk. Talk, talk, talk! Always about sex. And he learned he had guessed right about the party at Mary McCarty's Janice told him all about it. Not all at one sitting, or one fingering, or one sucking. Whatever you care to call it. But a little here, a little at home when mama was at a meeting, a little when they would be driving home.
"It's okay, now" Jannie laughed. "Gee, I've done a lot of growing up in a few weeks. Not there, silly," she would say, when her daddy would reach out a warm hand and squeeze one of her lovely titties. "But they are bigger, aren't they? No, I mean growing up in my attitudes. Golly, that night when they grabbed me and Mary held one leg and Tricia Blake held the other-whoo-eee! And Roy Willard pulled off my panties. Golly, I must have lit up the sky, I blushed so hard when they began to laugh at my pussy!"
"Laugh?" Dick said in spite of his resolve to show no shock. "What was there to laugh at?"
"Oh, one of the guys, Sammy Priest, maybe, said it looked like his kid sister's. Except she had more hair. Damn him! And Roy said: 'Well, you bang her, don't you? See if little Miss Priss here is as tight as Mamie.' That's his sister's name. Marnie. Did I say she's eleven? And he was trying to get his, uh, his prick into me, on that chair arm, when Harry Tenison jerked him off me and told them all to let me up and leave me alone." She shifted in the seat of the car, and he knew that the recounting of the scene had given her a sharp little twist of raw nerves up inside her pussy. It inflamed him immediately, so that he pulled over to the curb-they were away from town and in the residential area-and held her to him, kissing her with both their tongues strong and slick and warm against each other.
"Tenison? Tenison? Big kid, real dark, sort of pop eyes and big teeth? But he's a lot older than you. I went to school with his dad. His mother, too."
"He's sixteen, I guess," Jannie replied. "But I'm glad he was there. Gee!" She shivered and kissed her dad again. "I want the first guy that does it to me to be-well, someone I love. Someone I really trust. Otherwise, it would be, well, like rape, wouldn't it?"
He moved over to the driver's seat but left his hand on her thigh. She pulled her skirt up so that his hand could rest on her warm, smoothly alive flesh, giggling. He cleared his throat. "Got to happen someday, baby," he said noncommittally. "Are you doing the things we talked about? I know I got my finger into you, that first night." He shuddered, remembering it. "But you were certainly tight. You know I don't want you to hurt yourself, but you have to sort of, uh, open it up a little. I don't want some long-cocked kid hurting you, either. That'd be worse."
She laughed and reached over to touch his cock. It was lying along his thigh, big and half-hard under his slacks, and she stroked it round the head. "I'm bigger," she laughed. "But you sure won't talk about me getting it from you! We do everything else. Why don't you do it to me?"
He laughed at her childish phrase, "do it", and Janice flushed. "All right," she said. "You know it's hard for me to say those words. Even to you. But if I said: 'Daddy, please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!' a hundred times, you wouldn't do it."
She looked out the window, and he fancied she might have tears in her eyes.
"God knows, I want to, baby," he said. "But it's so-what's that word your generation uses so much? Heavy? When you mean dangerous, or of extreme significance. And we do have a lot of fun." He knew he sounded defensive. And he knew he was a fool. He was going to fuck her. He'd acknowledged that to himself on that first crazy night. He was going to fuck her. But he hadn't let himself be pushed to the point of no return. It was, indeed, sort of heavy. To fuck your child. Even if she wasn't his very own, a child sprung from his own loins couldn't be any closer.
"I guess I'm being chicken," he said. "If you'd ever screwed someone else-HEY! I'm not urging you to go out and get laid! You know what I mean!"
She was calm again, sympathetic again. "If it hadn't been for good old Harry," she laughed. "If Roy or Sammy or Dave Burton had stuck it in me, it wouldn't be wrong for you to, is that it?"
"Oh, shit!" the man cried good naturedly. "No! That's not it at all! Oh, God, how I wish we were at home, and your mother wasn't! I'd sure love to go down on you!"
And that's how it had gone. Always something doing when they were together. She knew every wrinkle in his scrotum, every tiny pink fold inside his thick, soft foreskin. And she really was content. It just seemed a lot of fun to needle daddy. Made her feel grown up.
And she and Mary McCarty went right on being friends, and eating together at school, and standing, talking, waiting for the bus, mornings and afternoons. But she hadn't gone over to study at Mary's since that crazy night, and they never kidded about sex, the way they used to. They knew too much about each other.
Jan knew that Mary fucked Roy Willard. To say the least. As a matter of fact, they had all talked about what they called "a round robin," and Roy had said: "Come on, kid. You know what that means, don't you? That's where everybody fucks everybody else." And Mary had grinned and nodded, squeezing one of Janice's breasts. Ugh! She could feel it now, that strange heat that came so sickly into her cunt as another girl fooled with her warm, throbbing breasts, her scared but drooly little split.
Of course, Roy kidded her. Subtly, for him. "How's your homework coming, kid?" he'd asked. "If you need help, remember, old daddy Roy's a real slick-dick at math!"
And Harry had come over just as Jannie left, so she never knew what he said to Roy. Probably told him to lay off or he'd beat up on Roy. He could do it, too. Even if Roy was on the first team at Santa Elena High School. So was Harry, and he was bigger and tougher than Roy. She knew where Harry stood. Or thought she did.
"You're stupid," Harry had said. "What you dumb assholes did at that party, that's no way to get into little Jannie's virgin twat. Very un-cool, man, very un-cool. She's like a wild, soft, sweet little bunny rabbit. That's softer and sweeter than a pussy cat. She's got to trust you. When she trusts you, then you've got it half in."
"Okay, Don Juan," Roy had laughed. "I'd rather just hold her down and shove it in her. My dad says there are two things to know about girls. One is: If they're big enough, they're old enough. And second: They'll all fuck, once you get in 'em!"
But naturally, little Jannie didn't hear this. And she really was beginning to trust Harry. But not as much as she trusted daddy.
And some very strange things happened during those eight weeks or so. That time before Connie saw her daughter and her husband lying together, bare-ass naked, playing with each other. Of course, some strange things happened to Connie, afterward.
But what happened to Dick was a brand new, highly charged interest in sex. Specifically, in Connie's warm, firm, welcoming body and all of its lovely components. He had always been pretty ardent, for a guy in his mid-forties, married to the same woman for twelve years. Not some thin-blooded Saturday night lover. Not Dick! Much of it, he knew, was Connie's own sex drive. When she felt that glow up her cunt, she'd reach out for him. And he had always thought that he was pretty close to his limit. Just with Connie.
But now, he could shoot his load of hot and sticky fuck juice into Jannie's mouth, or her armpit or between her warm, smooth thighs held tightly together, and go home hungering for Connie's pussy.
"You've gotten recharged, you lovely man," Connie would say, holding his cock, jacking the skin up and down, grinning up at him while love-slobber seeped out of her cunt's slick folds. "I'd almost think you were screwing somebody downtown, or wanted to and couldn't. But I never yet tasted pussy on your tool," and she gave it a loving shake before plopping her sweet mouth around it. "Or smelled perfume on you or found lipstick on your shorts."
"Or leg make-up on my cheeks," he'd answered. But he thought: It's weird. I must be manufacturing semen and sperm enough for two. It made him laugh, because that's exactly what he was doing. His balls were still secreting-and excreting-enough jism for two. Wonderful!
All his senses were engaged in his love for Connie. He loved to kiss her, suck her tongue, then let go and suck on her lower lip, holding it gently with his teeth and running his tongue along its slick inner surfaces, and against her teeth and gums. He loved the feel of her flesh, anywhere on her body, but especially under her arms, or on the moist underside of her titties, where they hung in all their splendid weight on her rib cage. Or between her asscheeks, or her thighs, or, by holding her thick cunt lips open, to rub his cheeks in the richly tinted rosette of cunt flesh.
And to taste her! To lick her sweat on the flesh of her groin, in the depression between her outer cunt lips and her thighs. To nibble the hairs at the warm entrance to her twat, when her exuded cunt juice had dried. How wonderful it felt to her, too, as he chewed the dried cum delicately from crisply curled hairs. Because to her, it was a promise of the hard, loving, man sized peter that was going to stretch her body, lift her to the peak of a dark wave, make her orgasm burst in her depths like a shower of black light.
To feel, to taste, to see. He loved it! He loved to lie with his face a few inches from the oozing lips of her split, studying each little crack and cranny and tiny wrinkle, studying the clear, shining film of fresh cunt spillings, noting the occasional unconscious twitching in that sensitive area as a microscopic cunt nerve let her knew it was alive.
And the gorgeous completeness and lust-brewing composition of aromas that come from any hot, full blooded, full fleshed woman! Only, in Connie, they were stronger, richer, earthier than in any other woman he had ever known.
So, in that time of his greatest love for her, when all the spouting, spurting orgasms he spent on their daughter could not cool his hot desire for her, they fucked and sucked like newlyweds trying to set new records for cumming generations to shoot at.
Until that terrible afternoon, that horrid, deadly, numbing, soul-shaking afternoon when Connie had come home earlier than she had intended. Or, quite obviously, than Dick and Janice had thought.
And, at that moment, if Connie had been less strong, less in command of her feelings, it might be that none of what happened might have happened. If she had confronted them, and screamed, and cursed, and slapped little Jannie, and generally kicked up a hellofa windstorm of human feeling, maybe Dick would never have gotten his big cock into Jannie's sweetly dripping, warmly pulsing, newly maturing little cunnie.
But things did happen the way they did. And who knows what's best for us. Connie Haire's vessel of life seemed to crack wide open. But she hung on to what she had, including her sanity.
She was a strong woman. She had to be, during the next few weeks. A thousand times, she had to remind herself that someday, all this would pass. Had to remind herself that Dick had been the most wonderful of husbands, that all men had flaws which made them suckers for sex. Especially when it came wrapped in a pink and white and juicily warm package of thirteen year old flesh and bone and blood and thirteen-year-old cunt's preciously slimy delights.
Each day was torture. Now, in the mornings when Dick held out a fatherly arm to Janice, and the child ran coltishly to the strength and warmth he'd always meant to her, Connie could see how they kissed. Could see Dick's cheeks sink in as he sucked the girl's tongue for two seconds. It was all she could do to refrain from running to Dick to feel his cock, or to restrain herself from jerking every dark hair from her daughter's head.
And the nights? They were worse, in a way, because they brought the insanely puzzling, the irresistibly addictive, the ironically solacing miracle-Connie thought of it as a miracle-of her husband's loving, his big, hard cock, his unfailing ability to arouse her to slavering, feverish, babbling lust. When his cock tasted and smelled like all the flowers of Heaven and Hell. When its hardness was a reminder of the bright past and a painfully doubtful future.
For Dick, completely unknowing, totally unaware that Connie even suspected his ephemeral romance with their daughter, continued to be fruitful and filled-or re-filled-every day with the rich, thick, pearly-white jism. Daily, he had his stolen moments with Jannie. But every night, the emanations of heat and emotion from Connie's smoothly sensuous body, together with some hidden need to reassure himself that his marriage ties were still not frayed, brought him to her in near-silence, in hot immediacy, in honest, potent lust.
And she, strong in everything but the power to hate, fighting back tears and questions, let her mouth be silenced by the kisses that locked them together at the mouth almost as deeply as cock and cunt locked their bodies together at their loins.
In the dark, Dick's eyes could see the lighter slash between the dark, rich fur on Connie's soft, fat, warmly delicious cunt lips. The perfume of superheated cunt flesh was thick and good under the sheets as he loved her pussy with his strong lips, his knowing tongue. He would speak brokenly: "My love! My baby! Oh, God, you're so great! The best of them all!"
And, with that big, beloved cock buried in her reeking, responsive cunt, when all her fuck system was answering her deepest needs, all ideas, all sickening thoughts of this well loved cock soaking and hammering in another hole would leave her. Sometimes, when they were locked together in love, with his seed pouring into her in lavish, hot spurts, and her body was lost from the immediate world in warm black waves of orgasm, she forgot everything. Everything except the blood-warmed riot of joy in her loins, the screaming pleasure of her cunt, her clit, her rectum, all those fiercely happy places of fire and love.
And she would listen, smiling, while Janice talked to her and to Dick, and Dick answered Jan but included Connie. Trying to understand them. Trying to understand herself. Trying to work out in her mind what they were really saying. And trying, hoping, to find a way to help them as well as herself.
Yes. To help them.
For by now, after days of mental tempests and nights of what she still considered love, Connie knew that there were no villains in her house, only victims. And that somewhere deep inside each of them, for all their strength and brightness, there had to be dark places of shame and remorse and pain. For what they were doing to her, to each other, to themselves.
But, at the same time, there was a tiger inside her that did not respond to this saintliness.
She never refused Dick anything. When he went to her crotch, laughing in the half-light of their bedroom, she welcomed the feel and taste and smooth warmth of his heavy cock in her mouth. And she sucked it with all the proficiency she always had. And almost with the same love. Like the old-time preacher, she might hate the sin in Dick and Jannie. But she loved the sinners. Oh, lover, cum in my mouth! Oh, best of men, shoot your shining, slick, delightful cum in my throat, to pour over my taste buds, to delight my lust for your jism! Suck me out, darling, suck every drop of me out of my squirming, juicing, slickly convulsing cunt! Ram your dear tongue into my pussy, ream out my asshole, oh my greatest of lovers! And give me your juice, the slick seed from your wonderful balls, the sweat from your groin, the loving rankness of your hairy crotch!
And then, as Dick's voluptuous brutality of tongue and teeth and sucking lips would trigger the blazing eruption of wracking orgasm far up in the dark of her body, blasting out in sheet-lightning waves through her keenly turned nerves, she would silently scream around the throbbing of his cock: "OH, LOVER! MY GODDDDDD, LOVER! SUCK ME, SUCK ME, SUCK MEEEEEE! OH, DICKIE, I'M CUUMMMMMMIIINNNGGG! OH, LOVER, YOU'RE KILLING MEEE! SUCK ME! SUCK MEEE!"
Until the vibration of her smothered voice around the nerved up, blood gorged cock would bring his powerful jets of semen, and he would silently bless her for what she was.
And for the loving daughter she had given him.
For there was some mystic tie that bound them all together, so that, when Dick was sucking or fucking Connie, he was fucking and sucking Janice. They were of the same flesh and blood. He had found no difference in them except in size, which was natural, in degree of maturity in breast and cunt and hip and butt and leg.
And if little Jannie had thought, during those weeks when she yearned so for Dick's cock, that he was hopelessly hung up on some black, deeply buried fear of incest, she should have asked herself: "Why, if he doesn't mean to fuck me, did he get me started on The Pill? Does he want me to fuck someone else first?"
She should have known, all along, that he had known he would fuck her from the moment she sat in his lap, and his cock had been warmed by the warmth of her tender young ass, her sweet young cunt.
Chapter Five
Oh, it was a chaotic time for Connie, her emotions going up and down like a yo-yo, until her mind rebelled and she was able to see all of it as a part of the comedy of life. She remembered a passage from a book that had been required reading in college, in English 4. By Anatole France. "Life," the sage old man had written, "is a comedy for those who think; a tragedy for those who feel."
In her youth and confidence, she had underlined it, thinking: "That's me, Anatole, baby. I think, so life's a comedy."
For a long time, she had done nothing but feel, and life had, indeed, been a tragedy. Now, praise God, she was thinking again, and she saw herself, Dick, Janice, all as players in a comedy. "But what can I do to fatten my part?" she asked herself. And then she remembered a scrap of conversation from breakfast this morning.
"How's Harry Tenison?" Dick had asked casually. "Same old pal? Your tough guy hero. Good kid."
And Jannie had blushed slightly and said: "He stopped and spoke to me, just yesterday. First time since, I mean, in a long time."
Connie was delighted. "Harry Tenison," she said aloud, sitting naked on her bed after Jannie had gone to catch the bus, and Dick had long since departed for Citrus City, where he had a meeting with a district rep and a wholesale client. "Her tough guy hero. My goodness gracious sake's alive!"
She got up and looked at her full blown beauty in the triple mirror of her vanity. She knew Harry. Two of three of the ladies in a book study group had mentioned him. In connection with their daughters. Schoolboy cocksman, she gathered. And Connie had noted that one of the younger ladies, a teacher, had looked bemused when the ladies spoke of Harry's slickness with the high school girls. So she made a mental note: And the junior high school teachers, Connie had thought. Must be quite a boy.
Looking at her superb body, a competitive devil raised his head somewhere inside her, and she thought: That's what I want, isn't it? To build up my part in this comedy of fuck and suck and cheat? And she thought: If Harry's banging my little daughter, maybe we might have a little comparison. For she had never doubted, during all this terrible time of doubt, of murderous chaos and frustration, that she was a better woman than her daughter. A better fuck. A truly prime piece of ass, which no thirteen year old girl can ever be.
Maybe that was why she had been able to live through this. Maybe it was the knowledge, deep inside, that Janice was a novelty for Dick, not a replacement for herself.
She stayed warm in the belly and crotch through the day. She knew where the high school hot shots hung out. A joint called-oh, those clich�s!-The Sugar Bowl, where big-breasted young girls presided behind the fountain, raising their hands to fix their hair so their titties would be most evident, and smoothing their tight uniforms over their hips to emphasize their two-hour-glass figures and by these overt actions to say: Hey, man, look at my warm young belly and my big thighs and all my other warm little goodies!
At a quarter to three, she parked in front of the Sugar Bowl. Like Dick, she had known Harry Tenison a long time. And strangely, she felt loose and warm and excited when he suddenly came around the corner with two other boys. She knew the other kids, too. Sammy Priest and Roy Willard. All on the Santa Elena High school football team. God, they were big mothers!
She wasn't obvious, at least she tried not to be. She had worn a very modest dress, skirt just above the knee, dark brown panty hose, sheer to the waist. As the boys came close, she opened the car door, reached one foot for the ground, then turned her body to reach for her purse, thoughtfully in the back seat.
Her timing was absolutely perfect. As she stretched, her skirt came up quite naturally. Her left leg was stretched toward the ground while her right leg went back to the right hand side of the car. In quiet satisfaction, she saw the boys turn into the Sugar Bowl's door with dazed and pleasantly excited looks on their faces. They stopped inside the door, their heads together, whispering, and Harry looked quickly over his shoulder, then jerked his head away.
I gave them a real flash of Little Greasy, she said to herself, using a pet name she had had for her cunt since she was twelve. And then, as she stood on the black-top parking area, she raised her hands to fool with her hair, making her fine breasts stand out like huge avocados, then smoothed the belted dress over her hips. To show herself and what she had to offer. Like the girls behind the fountain.
The place was filling up, and seating was at a premium. Sophie Dunn, the owner, said: "Hi, Miz Haire," and to the three boys, who had taken a table along the window, she said: "One of you dummies give Miz Haire a seat."
It was Harry who started to get up, but Connie, feeling absolutely on top on the situation, put her hand on his shoulder and pressed him down. She smiled at Sophie and at the other boys, and said: "Just move over, guys. I'll sit by Harry"
The kids were amazingly poised, Connie thought. Each of them had seen her crotch-she had made sure of that-and she knew they were probably thinking of that dark smudge of cunt hair so explicit under the sheer garment. Yet they laughed, made conversation, and the other two obviously hurried through their drinks and got up, one of them saying: "We gotta run. See you all later."
Connie was tickled and amused. Like some damn musical comedy, she thought. Only nobody would buy such a hackneyed plot action. Daughter angers mother, mother goes for daughter's boy friend. It's just too pat. But she found that her heart was beating faster. The boy seemed less sure of himself, now that the others were gone. And that meant, at least Connie thought so, that he actually did have something serious on his mind, something connected with her and the lush body she had shown him so clearly. No dummy, this kid.
They drifted out into the parking lot, and Connie said, as if on impulse: "Let's drive up on the rim of the bluffs and watch the ocean," and added, "that is, if you don't have something to do."
They were parked on a lonely stretch of high ground when Connie, again thinking how ridiculous this all was, and yet determined to carry it through, turned to the silent boy. She found him looking at her, dead panned, and she pulled her right thigh up, her knee bent, and said: "I won't be banal enough to say 'penny for your thoughts'. Unless boys have changed since I was your age, I know what you're thinking about. And I'll bet if I were my daughter's age, you wouldn't just be thinking. You'd be doing something about it."
Again, she felt a surge of confidence, the assurance that she was in command. That ought to be direct enough for you, baby, she said in the dark of her mind, her heart pounding as she looked down at the big boy's lap and saw a long bulge along his thigh, under his slacks.
To her surprise, Harry blushed. "I guess you're kidding me, Miz Haire," he said in a low voice. "Maybe if you were a little older than your daughter," and now he grinned. "I never had a date with her, you know. Saw her at Mary McCarty's not long ago. Not even a party. Just some kids dropped by." But he kept his gaze riveted on the inside of Connie's firm thigh, which looked larger, since she was, in a sense, sitting on it.
She took one of his big hands. "Come on, Harry," she said. "I think I know a couple of teachers that, uh, have gone out of their way to give you some extra-curricular instruction. Or maybe to get a little from you. A little instruction," she laughed, and thought: Jesus! I never knew I could be so crude!
The big kid put his arm up over her shoulders and pulled her to him, beginning to laugh. He was strong as an ox, she thought. When he gave her a slight tug, her whole body moved toward him, and he put his big hand down on the inside of her thigh, using his first two fingers to rub up and down on the soft bulge of her divided pussy where it almost burst out of the panty hose. His arm was so long that it went clear over her shoulder and under her left arm, and he squeezed her warmly resilient breast with careless brutality.
When she raised her face and opened her mouth to protest, he boldly began to kiss her, and the way his tongue shot into her mouth left no doubt that he had committed himself to going as far as he could with her. And with his strength, and their isolation, Connie realized that it was his choice, not hers. And this reality, instead of panicking her, gave her a hard surge of excitement and heat, a feeling of abandoned wildness in mind and body. A stab of fuck pain, far up inside her, created a gush of vaginal fluids, and she thought: By the time this is over, I'll have to sit on a towel, going home. It was a brightly lascivious thought, and she reached for the boy's prick with as much natural motive as if she had, in fact, been a school girl.
He leaned back, his eyes hot, and watched as Connie ran his zipper down and gently groped until she got her warm hands around his cock. It was not quite hard, but it was getting harder, and her mouth felt crowded by the sudden swelling of her tongue.
"Son of a gun," she said in a gasping whisper, "do all kids your age have dongs like this?" She was looking at its purple head, emerging from its cloak of wrinkled, thick foreskin as his hard-on grew. She suddenly felt more serious about all of this, and a rush of heat and interest made her jack the soft, thick skin up and down.
The boy was panting, too. "What about the back seat?" he asked. "That damn steering wheels in the way. And I've got to take off those panty hose, too." He licked his lips. "Unless you don't want to fuck," he said casually, watching her expression with hot eyes. "Some ladies get their jollies just by sucking me off."
She eyed him good-naturedly. "I doubt that very much," she said. "You're a tough kid, but you don't know too much about women. I'm as hot as you'll ever know, and I might 'get my jollies,' as you say, by sucking my husband off, but not as much as I like. When I get hot, it takes more than one cum to cool me off." She watched him, now, and saw that he was less confident than his boldness and raunchy talk had indicated. Her maternal heart was touched.
"Come on, baby," she whispered, patting him on the cheek, "get out and get in the back seat." She cast a quick look up and down the line of the bluffs. No one anywhere near. Good! She opened her door, pushed the bucket seat forward, and moved into the privacy of the big back seat, where she immediately began again to play with Harry's cock, kissing him deliriously as she pulled the skin over its head, then down, precisely and rhythmically.
"There," she gasped, "it's hard again. Hey, do you want to pull my panty hose off, or shall I?" She held on to the boy with one hand, and the front seat with the other, and raised her warm, soft ass off the cushion.
The boy's hand immediately went between her legs, making a good, exciting feeling on her thighs, and he grasped the waistband of the garment, getting them over her full hips and down to mid thigh. Connie sank back, glad she had brought a soft blanket along, spread under her. "That cold seat would freeze my ass off," she said, nestling her head against the tall, muscular kid.
He was breathing hard, and he let out a little moan of interest and pleasure as he saw her thick-lipped pussy, close up and uncovered. But now he looked at her, and held one of her breasts, kneading it firmly, and she said: "Shit, man, you don't expect me to get naked, here on the bluffs? Do you?"
He laughed nervously. "I'd sure like to suck on your titties," he said, his mouth watering for one of the big, soft boobs. "School girls just don't have such big, sweet, long old titties like this, Miz Haire." Something about his pleading look got under Connie's skin, and at the thought of this overgrown kid's thick lips and big mouth swallowing half her breast, she felt weakened by a rushing sweep of pure lust, all through the lower part of her body.
It seemed much closer, much more intimate, somehow, in the back seat. As if it were a tiny bedroom. Too, there was a thick, rich aroma of hot cunt in the limited space, and it affected Connie as much as it did the big boy. She knew what she was going to do, but first, she held her arms out to Harry, and he swept her against him, shoving one hand down between her smooth, firm thighs. He wiggled the hand, and Connie, understanding, and wanting what he wanted, opened them, loving the hard feel as his big hand pressed demandingly against the soft, hairy cunt lips.
"Lift it up," he gasped hoarsely, and, as the woman did as he asked, his fingers parted the thick, sealed lips, and they both groaned in ecstasy as his big hand rubbed all down her streaming split. He sawed up and down in the tenderness of her cuntal valley, and as she thrashed against him, one of his big fingers jabbed all the way into her vagina, deep, deep, stabbing against her cervix with a deeply, lovely pang of lust. She tried to scream her pleasure, but he was back at her mouth, now, and his strong tongue was deep in her throat.
She had forgotten why she was here, forgotten what seemed like the silliness of an old-fashioned movie plot. This was real. In an instant of honesty, feeling a deep affection for this big kid who was not as confident as he appeared, she knew that all she wanted, at least in this moment, was to have this big, sweet young peter jamming and twisting in her cunt.
Her dress was a shirtwaist style, and as she moved, its skirt came up over his hips. She was naked from her waist down, and she longed for a complete contact with Harry's long, powerful body.
She had stopped pulling on his prick, fearing he would shoot his wad prematurely, but she cupped his big balls in her hand, holding them carefully, loving their wrinkled, hairy maturity.
She was thinking: Oh, God, this is too much. I've got to shoot it! I've got to cum! She felt a giant swell of fuck-force in her guts, deep in the black warmth around her womb, and she suddenly let go of his cock to hand onto his arm, fucking with all her force against the fork of his hand. In a paroxysm of cumming, she wrenched her mouth away from his, and her wailing cry rang deafeningly in the car: "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OOOOOOWWWEEEEEE! OH GOD! FUCK ME, BABY! SHOVE IT IN ME DEEP! KILL ME, BABY! OH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME!
He held on to her thrashing body as best he could with his one free arm, and his eyes glazed with his own lust as he unconsciously protected his cock from any contact. He had never had a woman like this and never expected to. The writhings and outcries of the young kids he fucked most seemed infantile and affected. This woman, a real woman, a whole woman in her own right, seemed like every beautiful wet dream he had ever had, every lovely cunt he had ever wanted.
She was raising the roof, fucking as strongly as before, and he held her breathlessly, his young mind fertile with the hot idea of having his cock where his fingers were. "OHHHHHH! OH, HARRY BABY! IT'S SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOOD! AAAAAAARRRRRR RGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! Shove! SHOVE! OH, BABY! YOU'RE SOOO GOOOOOODDD! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
As suddenly as she had gone into this massive cum-fit, the graciously built woman slumped against the tall, strong kid, sobbing and laughing, and the weight of her slack body pulled him off balance so that his fingers slid softly out of her slackened cunt. He listened to her struggling to get her breath, and, as she lay back against the seat, he dropped to his knees on the car floor.
As soon as Connie had some idea of what the boy wanted, another wave of sexuality flamed in her cunt, and she lifted the leg closest to the seat clear up, hooking her heel over the back. Her other thigh swung wide, almost at right angles to her heaving belly, and her crotch was as open as it could get.
"Jesus, Miz Haire, that's so beautiful," the kid moaned. "All pink and slippery! Wow! Ooooh! Hang your leg over my shoulder. Like that! Yeah! Oh, God, it smells so lovely!" He looked up at Connie and his face was flushed with his heat, his face pouring sweat, and she realized that she was sweating, too. She felt the heat of his breath on her sensitized, trembling inner cunt lips, and it brought a burst of desire in her that made her fuck her body toward his face.
As his thick-lipped mouth went down on that writhing, juicing spread of wriggling cunt flesh, the nerves, still tender from her giant orgasm on his fingers, exploded into the blaze of another cum.
Her throat seemed raw from her previous screaming, but she ripped out hoarse tributes to the gods of lust: "SUCK IT, BABY! OH, IT'S SO BEEE-YOOOTI-FUUULLLLLL! OH, GOD! AAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OH, SUCK ME RIGHT OUT! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The feeling of being sucked inside out turned her bones to jelly, and she wrapped her smooth, warm leg around the boy's neck to keep from sliding away from him. She was one vast, amorphous bundle of throbbing flesh and screaming nerves, one big cunt that was responding with all its love and heat and slick oozings.
When she at last subsided from this tongue-fucking, she was in the corner of the car, her dress now above her breasts. She was dizzy with the gut-shaking bursts of love, and grateful for this big, rather simple boy who had given her such pleasure.
She saw that her fingers were cramped, and realized she had been clutching his long hair, holding him to her pussy. Trying to drown him in it, she suspected, and was able to grin.
He raised up, and her happiness sent a shock of pleasure through him. "I never knew anyone like you, Miz Haire," he said humbly. "I hope what I did was, uh, okay by you."
She leaned and clasped his big head against her breasts, tears in her eyes. "I wanted it so bad I just fell apart," she whispered. "Oooooohhh, that sure is a lot of smell coming up from my dirty old cunt! How'd you stand it?" His beardless cheeks were smashing into her swollen titties, and she loved it, but she had caught a flash of his cock, so big and hard, and knew he must be in fuck pain.
"Harry," she whispered, "now it's your turn. Your turn to shoot your big, sweet load." She drew back and looked at him, her eyes dancing. She had never expected this, that she could so quickly feel a genuine affection for this young stud. "You can have it any way you want it. You can have me any way you want me." She felt a quake of deep pleasure. Somehow, using the personal pronoun made it seem sweeter. She had spent so many nights, so many days in ambivalence toward Dick. And toward Janice. To be like this, with a kid she barely knew, and to love without the bittersweet mixture of hate, that was divine. "Fucking or sucking," she said, to clarify things.
"Or both," she said hoarsely, thinking of how that cock would feel in her churning pussy, and, at the same time, how sweet and wholesome his cock cream would taste, pouring across her tongue, into her throat. "Give it to me, sweet! Let me hold him, kiss him!"
Somewhat shyly, somewhat awkwardly, the tall kid got up on the cushion beside her. "Easy with it, Miz Haire," he choked. "I'm about to lose it!"
She put her warm fist around it, holding it firmly with her thumb pressing on the cord, just on the underside of the head, or on the top of the hard core. "You won't spill it, Harry," she said firmly. "This is absolutely guaranteed to get you back in control." She laughed lightly, happily. She felt almost insanely jubilant. She had started out in a bad mood, or at least a strangely love/hate feeling toward Dick and Janice. Fucking around with Harry would be "getting even." No joy, no violent happiness or surprise. Just the barren triumph of "getting even."
But, holding this darling big cock, smiling with pure affection at the big, tough kid who ran over high school defensive backs all up and down the coast, she knew she was better than even. She had grabbed at something as evanescent as a lightning bug, and had gotten a fistful of warm gold.
"Hey, that's all right, Miz Haire!" the boy exclaimed. "And it feels beautiful! Oh, man, it's so wonderful to get it on with a lady that knows where it's all at!" He looked anxious. "You sure it's all right for me to, uh, fuck you?" Suddenly, without meaning to, he bucked up against her hand. He licked his lips. His homely face was, most of it, anyway, shining with her cunt juice.
"Wow" he said thickly. "Your pussy tastes like heaven! Phooey on young chickies! OOOOOOHHHHHH! Let's get it to going!"
He tried to get his feet and knees up on the cushion between Connie's opulent thighs, and cursed as his feet tangled in his shorts and slacks. Looking sheepish, he reached to pull them off, and got his nose right between her thighs. "So loveleeeee!" he moaned, and pushed his face into her cunt. "Still drippy, Miz Haire!" He rooted into her, licking into the superheated and blood-reddened labia, probing with his slick, muscular tongue, and Connie held his face against her, her eyes closed to enjoy the cunt fire all the more.
When he got up she said: "I think you'll like my cunt the way it is, Harry. I'm usually very tight, but right now I'll be all relaxed and sloppy, so that you can just slide it in and let it soak for as long as you want. Does that sound good to you? I promise, it'll be slick and hot around your lovely peter. You can fuck in and out gently, and not be afraid you'll cum too soon. OHHHHHH! GET IT IN ME, BABY! QUICK! HOLD ME DOWN! FUCK ME! I'M CCCUUUMMMIIINNNGGGG! PLEASE! OHHHHHH WOWEEEEEE! THERE, BABY! OH, GLORIOUS FUCK! OH DO YOUR STUFF, BABY!"
He had gotten the broad head just past her cuntal portal when she began to fling herself at him the vast convulsive effort of a big orgasm. He never knew what it was like to feel the "relaxed" cunt she talked about.
It felt so marvelous to his hard cock, aching with the need to unload, that he tried to drive into her as she came up. But her needs, the dark rhythms inside that strong, lovely body, were tuned to a different beat. He felt the slick, warm flesh go taut, and he was lost, both he and his cock dominated by the expert, practiced milking of a super cunt. He felt the warmth of her thighs against his hard flanks, felt the grind of her pubic mound against his own, and simply dropped his mouth on hers, tonguing her furiously as her body took care of the fucking for both of them. He was grateful for this experience, and for the guts he had had when he had rubbed her thigh in the Sugar Bowl. He had felt heat run between them, and now it was paying off. Better than he could have ever believed.
He was still cumming when Connie suddenly checked her gorgeous body in mid-air, her ass down on the cushion, his cock buried deep down, all his force pressing against her uterus and the closed end of her fuck sheath. He felt her gather all her muscles into tightness, and took his mouth from hers just as she began to shout hoarsely: "IT'S TOO GOOOOODDDDDD! OH DARLING! OH DICK! FUCK ME HARD, BABY, AS HARD AS YOU CAN! I'M CCCUUUMMMMMMIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG! OH, DICK, PLEASE! PLEASE, BABY! FUCK ME!" And then another wordless scream that ripped from her strained throat as the violence of her orgasm shot her hammering against the big boy: "AAARRRGGGHHHIAAARRRGGGHHH! AAAHHHGGGHHH!"
He had never known anything remotely approaching the ardor and abandon of Connie's response. Young girls are sweet, their tender little cunts usually tight and always ready, but none of them, until they enjoy the abandon of mature sex, dare let themselves go. After all, kids have to fuck on the sly. Often as not within earshot of mom or dad. Or some other authoritarian surrogate. And Harry, inclined to take fucking more seriously as he grew older, was finding that making a woman flip was a heady addition to the unsubtle reality of sticking his cock into a willing pussy. It was wonderful.
He let himself go as limp as Connie, his big body falling on her belly, her spread thighs, his chest mashing her swollen titties.
They lay in happy silence, breath coming hard, in gasping sobs, and he got one big hand under Connie's buttock, raising her so he could dig into the softness and slickness of her ass, where her flow of vaginal nectar was mingling with his own swelling seed.
She was stroking his hair back from his sweated forehead, and thinking of how beautiful this was, how marvelous to have it turn out this way. Getting even with Dick and Janice was gone from her mind. She had discovered a new dimension to fucking. Big boys. Maybe even younger kids than Harry I Why not? There were so many of them! And they needed sex then, maybe more than at any other time of their lives. The raunchy thought tickled her so that she laughed.
Harry moved, giving her sensitive breasts a delightful thrust of pain as his weight smashed them flat on her rib-cage. He lifted his head and grinned. "What's funny?" he asked. "Are you laughing at me?"
She kissed him, and he rolled away and sat up. His big prick was still hard enough to stand up between his thighs, and it was shining with a thick layer of their combined cum juices. With a happy moan, Connie moved, turned, got on her knees on the back seat, and took the boy's tool in her hand. Automatically, his long arm went around her rump, into the deep, cum-slicked crevice between her buttocks, a big finger going gently into her fuck tube.
"Not laughing at you at all," the woman said in a hoarse whisper. "Nothing to laugh at. OOOOOOHHHHHH! This lovely peter! He's so big and purple-faced!"
She went down on the sticky cock, thrilled with the richness, the rankness of their combined sweat, the thick jism, her own deliciously flavored pussy juice.
He held her head between his hands, moving it around, grinning to himself, since she could not see his face. He had a sudden feeling that she was his, not for always, but for a while. It gave him a new idea of what it might mean. He already knew that his own ability to rebuild, to fire more jism, was limited. It didn't seem fair. Because, he knew, a woman like Connie could fuck him under the table any time she wanted to. And he thought, with a new pang of lust, about Connie's young daughter. He held her head tightly, raising it and lowering it on his dick. Wow! What a gas! Having a woman as classy as this, happy to eat his cum! Most young kids, you had to argue with 'em, slap 'em around, sometimes, just to get 'em to give you a blow job. And even then, they didn't know how. Maybe, though, if a guy took time to train 'em-WOW! Even Connie, so great at sucking, even Connie had to learn how. He was blasted again with a new dart of intuition. It moved him to speak.
"You know," he said boldly, "I told you the truth about Jan. I never had a date with her. As far as I knew, she's cherry. But if she's your daughter, and if there's anything in this whatchacallem stuff, you know, when you inherit something from a parent?" He was mute for a second, and Connie, licking her lips after letting his warm cock slip out of her mouth, furnished the word.
"Yeah. Heredity. If Jan's like you, how come she's not getting it from somebody. Because, as far as all the guys know-all the chicks, too, who'll talk about it-she's still cherry. Seems crazy, if she's your daughter." He laughed nervously. "Just sort of joking."
Connie was tempted to reply: "Somebody's getting it," but she wanted to keep away from the thought, to make this moment last.
"After all, she's only twelve," the woman said. "Even for this day and age, even for Southern California, that's pretty young. Or is it?"
Thinking of Sammy Priest's kid sister, Harry almost choked on laughter. He had a pretty good idea that Janice wasn't against fucking. She had gotten very flippy when they pulled her panties off and gave her a few feels. Might've even cum, a little. But he couldn't tell that to the kid's mother. Might louse up his big idea.
"Yeah, I guess so, Miz Haire. But, gee, you've got to admit that there's something wrong with the heredity thing." He wanted to keep this good thing going, so he got back on the subject in the simplest possible way. Connie had her face on his thigh, still holding his diminishing cock, eyeing it from close up. So he pulled her face toward it, groaning: "MMMMMMMMM! That was so great, the way you blew me awhile ago! Cleaned up my dick, I mean." He suddenly remembered that, in the heat of their cumming, she had called him "Dick." Or had he imagined it? Knowing her husband, since almost everyone knew almost everyone else in the cluster of small towns along this part of the coast, it meant she was in another world when she came.
Anyhow, she didn't take his bait. Instead, she kissed the softening prick, sat up, and smiled at the big kid.
"This was crazy," she said, beginning to work her dress down over her big, firmly soft breasts. Ooooh! It felt good! When she got the mess of fabric down to the widening of her hips-thank God for permanent press, she thought as she raised her gorgeous ass up off the seat and got the dress smoothed out.
"I hate to see you put all those beautiful things away," the boy said, seeing it only as a way to flatter. "Guys talk a lot about 'eating pussy,' meaning stuff that's so good it's a shame to put a nasty old cock into it." He laughed. "This is the first time I ever had any that good. Wow! I feel like I could get it up again in five minutes."
He did more than flatter Connie. He started a new flame going from the embers still glowing inside her. "Me, too," she said. "I could just about fuck you-or a dozen like you-into a coma! But I'm getting nervous about this. Screwing in public, sort of. Would you like to go to a motel? I'd pay, of course," she said pleadingly. "We could sort of let ourselves go, if we were in a place like that. Oh, Harry!" and she trembled with a hard, beautiful pain twisting around her womb, "That would be so marvelous! Would you? If I'd pay?"
He felt a hard surge of triumph. This was what every guy dreamed of-to have some girl begging for it. But this wasn't just "some girl." This was the big shot Miz Haire, a leader in the area, the wife of Dick Haire. A legend. And more than that, the hottest fuck that Harry had ever known, the most beautiful woman he had ever spoken to.
He finished getting his slacks up and closed. He held Connie for a hard moment, tonguing her deeply, his hand under her dress.
"I know a better place," he said. "Let's go."
She looked out of the car. Since they had arrived and done their thing, other cars had parked, one of them not more than fifty feet away. "I can't get out now," she said. "I can't let anyone see me here."
"Climb over into the driver's seat," Harry replied. "Go on. I'll boost you."
When she had squirmed over into the front seat-with Harry getting a flash of her firm thighs, her pouting cunt-he said: "Drive back to town. I'll show you where to go." And then, as Connie obediently turned the car around, her pulses thudding in warm anticipation, Harry, still in the back seat, ran the window down. He knew who was in the nearest car. He should. It was the car he'd been in, going to the Sugar Bowl. Sammy Priest's. And good old Roy was with him. God damn!
With his eyes on Miz Haire, to make sure she didn't see, he put his arms out the window and put his hand in the air. His thumb and forefinger made a circle, the other three fingers extended. The "okay" sign.
"When you get to Acacia, turn left," he said pleasantly.
Chapter Six
Dick's trip to Citrus City was over almost before it began. The wholesale client had had an order ready. A carload. And the factory representative, as he usually did, gave Dick a warm handshake, the assurance that the factory looked on him as one of its more valuable people, and a rain check on the lunch which Dick usually had with him. He had another call to make, up in Los Angeles County. If he got it cleaned up by noon, he could go out to see the Dodgers in one of their rare daytime games. So there was Dick, a little after eleven, with time on his hands. And cunt on his mind.
Young cunt. About thirteen.
He knew exactly where to find it. Janice's lunch period was from twelve to twelve-forty-five. And, on lovely days like this, she and her pals liked to get lunch over and sit under the ancient pine trees along Pacific Avenue, the south side of the campus, to talk, to take a quick look at a book for the next class, to look the guys over, to tell secrets. So, really, all Dick had to do was to pull up and park. And wait and watch.
Mary McCarty saw him first. She turned to Janice. "Hey, kid," the hot little girl said out the corner of her mouth, "there's your old man. Geez, he's good looking! Does he ever fool around?" She laughed, holding on to Jan's arm. "Because, if he does, tell him I'm available. Whoo-ee! I get tired of schoolboy heroes!"
She was still laughing when Janice, her heart pounding, got in her dad's car. Her first thought had been that something bad had happened. Mom was sick. Or maybe worse. Mom had found out about them.
His smile reassured her. So did his big hand, spread palm up on the seat, so that she could nestle her warm little butt against it. Just a sort of greeting, really. A joke. He loved to do it when he was picking her up and a bunch of kids were around the car. That way, as she squirmed in an apparent effort to get settled, he could actually work his finger under the strap of her panties, right into the sweetly dripping, warm little cunt, and finger-fuck her while she was exchanging small talk with the other kids.
"That old Mary McCarty has the hots for you, daddy," she said to Dick, loving the hard penetration of his big finger. "If you ever want a little of that-well, she says she's available."
Dick laughed. This open way of talking was nice. Right from the start, he'd been able to make Jannie understand how much it helped, how it made communication easier and sweeter.
She looked up at him, love in her eyes. "My lunch period's up in about fifteen minutes," she said. "What do you want to do? We can go around back of the school, in the trees. We could make it there."
She shivered. "Ooooooohhh, daddy! It makes me feel all hot and slick, just thinking of it. I want to suck you off! Couldn't we?"
He wiggled his hidden finger in the drooly opening of her sweet young twat. "I've got something better in mind," Dick grinned. "Like maybe going to a motel. Where's your mom? D'you know?"
The nubile child bounced up and down on his finger, a tremor of orgasm already beginning in her soft-lipped pussy. "Oh, daddy," she groaned. "Let's go! OHHHHHH! PLEASE! LET'S GO! BEFORE I CUM!"
He reached across with his left hand and started the engine, moved the shift lever to "Drive", and bumped down off the low curb by the school grounds, steering with his left hand. His face was as intent as Jannie's as she turned her left thigh up on the seat, and he enjoyed her cries of fuck-joy as she clung to his arm and fucked up and down on his hand.
"OHHHHHHHHH God! Ohhhhhh, daddy! That was beautiful. Oh, don't take it out. PLEASE!"
But he withdrew his hand, his big middle finger wet with her cum juice, his palm filled with her overflow.
He grinned at her as he licked his fingers, his hand. "Very nice," he said. "And just think, I'm going to get all of that I can eat. Because, in about ten minutes, we're going to be in our own private bedroom, naked as jaybirds' asses, and-wow! We'll have all afternoon! Where'd you say Connie was?"
Jan clung to Dick's arm, her eyes shining. "I didn't say, daddy. Because I don't know. At home, I guess. She didn't say anything to me." She shivered ecstatically. "That's pretty heavy, going to a motel," she said. "Golly, suppose someone sees us?"
But no one did. Dick had stopped and reserved the room, paying for it in advance, and he had the key. They simply went in through the dining room, like any father and daughter going to lunch, and on through to the hall, and on to their room.
When they were safe inside, the slender young kid with the big breasts threw her arms around her stepfather's neck, her warm body against his, and they kissed for a long, hard moment.
When their mouths parted, her face was slack with lust, and her sweet young mouth, not quite closed, dribbled clear saliva down her chin. She could feel his hard-on rising, and she hastily got to her knees, running his zipper down, feeling in his sweated shorts for the big piece of smooth, hot meat.
They were in the bed in a matter of minutes, still not talking, but she rolled on top of Dick and tried to work her crotch over his cock, laughing breathlessly, kissing him on the face and neck.
He held her for a moment, laughing, and then said: "Gee whiz, baby, what are you trying to prove? I'm just as hot for you as you are for me. But we don't have to hurry. We've got all afternoon. Roll over, sweet thing, and let me eat that cute little pussy for a couple of minutes. You know," he said and laughed, "I got a corner room, out here in the far end of the old place, so you can yell as loud as you want to. So we can have it all, do it all, and you can make all the noise you want to!" His hand went between her buttocks, slipping down into the deepest, slickest part, where her hot little cunt trembled with expectation and joy. "Look at you, baby! Full of juice, aren't you?"
"Oh, daddy, that's so stirring!" the young girl cried. "Do you like that word, stirring? You know, I sit in class, just thinking of new ways to tell you how much I love you, what you do to me!"
She pulled herself up high on the bed, squeezing one of her big, taut nipples into a cone of titty flesh, and thrust it at his mouth. "I love it so when you suck me, daddy," she whispered. "I love the things you teach me. About my body, about all women. About sex. Show me again where that real good place is in my pussy."
He sucked half her tender young breast into his mouth, his powerful tongue beating at the nipple. She went rigid as the good, hard, hot feeling spread from her warm, soft titty, glowing all through her torso. From her position, she could see his big, thick cock with its head so gorged with blood that it was slick and shiny. It looks so big and fierce, she thought. It doesn't seem possible that it can go into my tiny little holes.
She pulled her stretched and swollen nipple away from him and lay with her head down along his body. Her soft, warm little hand found his heavy cock, and she gently gripped it, opening up her own loins to Dick's gaze by pulling her left heel snugly against her well formed butt, giggling as he turned his head so that his cheek was on the inside of her right thigh.
"Looks mighty rich and juicy in there," he teased. "Did all that happen just since I picked you up?"
She jumped as she felt his fingers hold her cunt lips apart, and unconsciously fucked toward his face. She could feel his heartbeats throbbing in his cock, and she handled it gently. "I want this big old thing in me when you cum, daddy," she said in a high, strained voice. "OHHHHHH! WHAT'S THAT? OHHHHHH, DADDDDDDYYYYYY! OHHHHHHHHH! YOU'RE MAKING ME CUUUUUUMMMMMM! WOWEEEEEEEEEEEE! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!" And her feverish cries of lust shook them both as his strong lips closed on her throbbing, juicing pussy.
He had to hold on to her ankle with his left hand to keep her from flinging herself away from him, so shaken she was by her orgasm.
The dark fire of it bombed deep inside of her, taking her unexpectedly, its brilliance burning in the wet blackness in her vagina, like a thousand sparklers on Fourth of July. In her frenzy of lust, she got her flushed young face deep into his groin, kissing along the hairy, hard-muscled thigh, pulling at the dark hairs with her teeth. The rancid, rankly compelling smell from his crotch only added to her heat as her cunt flapped and throbbed in its throes of cumming. When he released her, she fell against him limply, drained for the moment, her heart leaping as she heard him laugh.
He pushed her away in a moment, and dragged her limp, sweet body up so that her face was next to his. As always, she was intrigued by the sharp aromas from her cunt, and its tasty richness as she kissed him softly. "Hot day," she whispered. "I told you, I think about you in class. I got full of juice, and it, well, I guess it sort of gets riper!" She pretended to shudder with disgust, although she knew the zest that Dick had for her genitals, the strength of his interest in sex. For a moment, she felt very grown up, holding the big man's face as she kissed him, enjoying the heat that swept her as they sucked tongues.
When she raised her face away from his, she laughed. "What are you going to teach me today?" she asked. "How many lessons is this? Nearly three months, right?"
He cupped her warm, smooth ass in his hand, laughing. "Ever since that night you came home with your boobs hanging out," he said. "And sat your warm little rump right on my danger spots."
"Oh, marvelous!" the young girl cried. Sweat had dampened her dark hair which fell in curled tendrils across her brow. "Now it's all my fault. Oh, you nasty old man! I've a good notion not to let you stick it into me, just for that!"
His eyes were bright, too, and his laughter was deep. "Won't be much of a lesson," he said. "But I'll charge you, just the same."
She kissed him again, then put her face against his, and sat back, slouched so that her weight was on her elbows and the lower part of her back. "Teach me," she said. "Play with my pussy. Please, daddy! Remember when we first did this? All naked, I mean?"
He looked at the young perfection of her girlish but mature body. The young breasts pointing so proudly away from her chest. Her smoothly rounded belly, with its triangle of dark hair at its base. Still not enough hair to hide the sweet point where her slit began, still only a light sprinkling of long hairs down the rounded fullness of each big cunt lip.
"I remember," he said. "Do I ever. That crazy day when your mother went shopping. God! I still shiver when I think how crazy we were." He placed one big, smooth hand on the girl's belly, his thumb pressing against the sensitive spot just above her clitoris, in the richest, thickest hair on her young mound. He grinned at her. "That was when I finally let you talk me into screwing you." He pressed hard where the wildly responsive little bud of passion would be hiding, under its protective overhang of thick, soft pussy flesh.
When she leaped, he laughed, and pulled her toward him. "You said I owed it to you, you little devil! Would it surprise you to know I wanted to fuck you, long before that first night. The very first time I played with your pussy? And that my hanging back was, well, not completely honest?"
The thirteen year old woman dropped her eyes and a warm flush swept pinkly over her lovely little body. She wanted this talk ended, wanted the pretense of "instruction" ended, so that they could, very simply, get started fucking. Get that enormous, impossible looking fuck-tool started into her tightness, so she could strain and push, and concentrate on opening her body up. So that she could cum a few times before Dick could even get halfway into her tight and juicy little cunt hole. But she was twisting with laughter, deep inside, at his words.
She hunched toward him, her knees sagging open, her thighs wide apart, her cunt pinkly offered. "Yeah," she said. "Maybe I knew. I was scared to death you wouldn't, though. You're so goddamned honest, so decent!" She began to cry silently, big tears running down her smooth cheeks. But the heat in her twat remained unabated. "I was scared you would, too," she said. "I knew it was wrong, and I knew you knew it was wrong. But I couldn't help it. I had to know what it was like. Fucking, I mean," she added, looking down humbly.
"Forget that shit!" the big man said roughly, his tongue so thick with heat that his words were blurred. "I told you the truth. I've wanted to get into your pretty pink pussy since you were old enough to have any shape!" He realized he had raised his voice, much too much. He put his hand on the warm, smooth skin of her thigh, just a couple of inches from her split. He grinned, and pinched her. "I must feel at least a little bit defensive," he said. "I sure as hell sound defensive. Come closer, doll. Come real close, and lie next to me and put your hand on my prick. There, baby, that's it. Don't want me to lose this big hard-on, do we? At my age, they don't come too easy."
The girl began to laugh, a little raggedly at first, then with a real feeling of amusement. "Isn't that silly?" she asked. "That I should be thinking of mom? And I know that all you're trying to do is help me grow up, and teach me about myself. So I won't be scared."
He held her to him, kissing her, wondering how much was truth in what he had said, and how much was lies. It's impossible for a man interested in sex, as deeply as Dick was, to keep from noticing the development in breast and thigh, in butt and belly, of a girl child. Even if she were truly my flesh-and-blood daughter, he told himself. And even if he had, right there at first, had only meant to give her comfort-well, when he had begun to examine her sweet little body-her cunt, let's face it-the desire to help suddenly became nothing but desire.
She was frigging his cock in the way he had taught her. "This is right, isn't it, daddy?" she asked softly, her eyes closed, so that he could see her heartbeats throbbing in the tiny veins of her eyelids. She groaned as he put his big hand down between her legs, and fucked wildly at his fingers, as if her blind little pussy was determined to wrap itself around something of his. "Come on, big man," she whispered brokenly. "Come on, let's fuck!"
He rolled her on her back and pulled her legs apart. I did this, he thought. I taught her to fuck, taught her to like it, taught her to talk like a waterfront hustler. But he had no time for regrets as he knelt there, his big cock in his hand, its broad head aimed at the tender, pink little slit with its shrinking hole down there at the bottom. "Lift your ass up for me, baby," he said huskily. "Daddy wants to stick it in you. Do you want to help, baby? AGGGGGGHHHHHH! Oh, baby, that's where it's at!"
She didn't open her eyes, but her pert little face was beautiful in its soft smile as she rubbed his cock up and down in the juice that welled out of her warmly responsive depths.
"Hot girl like you never should let a guy put vaseline or spit on his cock," he had told her. "Wipe it up and down in that sweet little cunt of yours. That's a female's natural lubricant, and a hot girl has plenty of it. Like you. Like your mom. And it makes a guy feel great, too." That had been a long time ago, for them. Before they'd never actually gone the whole route, which was almost exactly three weeks ago. It was three weeks ago. He knew it, and he remembered how he knew it.
But now, as his little daughter raised her sweetly fashioned young rump up off the clean sheets, pushing against his cock so that she was making it go in, she was taking part of the responsibility, he didn't care. Then was then, and now was now. No use in letting some dumb guilt spoil it for her. "Goddd! Oh, baby, that feels mighty good! How wonderful your sweet little old pussy is!"
She laughed and opened her eyes to look deeply into his. She was happy. He knew it. And her body was trembling, she liked it so.
"Remember the first time, daddy?" she asked in a whisper. "It just seemed like it never would go in, didn't it?"
He lunged at her beautifully formed body, and cried out in a sort of ecstatic pain: "Jesus, baby, you're so tight it hurts!"
Her face was white, at least around her lips, and around her nostrils. "Wonderful pain!" she gasped, her body trembling on his cock as if it were supported on that big, hard tool.
She gave a little shake and a twist to her body, let herself go back down to the bed, and then, as his weight followed, she threw herself back up at him with all the power of her back and legs.
"OOOOOOFFFFFF!" she cried. "THAT got results! Wow, daddy! It's almost all in, isn't it? Let me look in the mirror. Oh, wow!" and her voice was soft. "Look! I think I feel it pressing into my guts! Look in the mirror!"
He forced himself up on his elbows, keeping his belly close on hers, and turned his head. Jannie had pulled her legs back, all the way back, so that her butt, what he could see of it in the big mirror, looked as mature, almost as big, as Connie's. And his big balls, in their wrinkled, hairy sac, were drawn up tight against his pole, from his heat, his need to unload their slick freight.
"It's all the way in," he gasped. "Baby, I must be splitting your little vagina. I know I'm clear at the end of it."
She suddenly looked away from him, her face slack and loose, and her body, as if it had been electrified, began to pump up and down on his cock. Her voice began as a low sound in her throat, and then her mouth opened into a long, frightening "O", in which he could see her clean, pink tongue coiled like a snake.
"OWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she howled. "OWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" And then, in a wild rhythm to match her body's abandoned but regular jerks and twists: "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OH GOD! OH GOD! DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!" And on these two syllables, her body made a double bump up at him, and some fantastic muscle, in an action that could never be learned or taught, nipped at his cock in a bop-bop nibble. "Dad-dee! Dad-dee! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH!" And then at last, a long drawn out cry ripped from her strained throat: "AAAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"
It was so fantastic that he was again braced on his arms, letting her fuck him. And she had certainly done just that. He felt the dying echo of her orgasm as a hard flutter of muscle around the head of his cock. There was a ripe smell of cunt fragrance around them both, a slippery film of sweat and pussy juice all around where his big organ was throbbing inside little Jannie's sweet pussy.
The girl continued to moan softly, and he knew there was still a warm, almost painful sensitivity in every part of her fuck system. He was hot as he could get, every muscle taut as if he were a fine hunting dog on point. He lowered himself as his arms began to tremble from his weight, and he kissed his daughter gently on her closed eyelids, making her smile faintly. She was out of it for a few more minutes, he knew, far away in her bright world of happily completed sex, her body and mind temporarily disconnected, and only her sensory centers alive to what had happened, was still happening in sweetly itching little aftershocks, and what would soon happen.
When Dick, holding hard to the idea of fucking for a while before shooting his big load, began to move his cock gently in and out of the slippery-tight little hole, so recently opened to a man's cock, Janice began to awaken. Her face and breast were now flushed with the blushing aftermath of a big orgasm. She kept her eyes closed, but her body slowly began to weave and bob in a rhythm to match the man's slow, short strokes.
Her face became intent again, and she gripped her dad's braced arms to give herself leverage. Her heels moved back so she could make a bridge of her body, and her movements were now surer, harder, as the big organ went in and out of her. And Dick, observing this all with love and concern, with a teacher's eye, was able to stave off his own blast of sperm.
His nerve-taut cock was swollen with blood, and the young cunt's tightening, the young girl's heat, the deliciously warm feel of her body, all were at work on Dick's senses. He did not realize it, but his eyes were now closed, too, and he was pumping his big cock so deep into the little-girl twat that he was hitting the end of her vagina, and banging against her cervix.
It was pounding pain deep into the girl's body, but it was a glorious sort of pain, the kind that makes certain women glad to be women, glad to be fucked. She felt as if her hard little womb-mouth was being struck with a fist, and each hard jab was a darkly convulsive pang in her guts. But the friction on her cum-nerves, the pressure on her clitoris from his hard slams against her cunt, all these made it not only bearable, but beautiful.
Shortly, she began to moan: "Mmmmmmm! Ohhhhhh! Oh, daddy! Fuck me, daddy! Oh, it's so good! I love you so, daddy! You're fucking me so gooood!"
The lascivious babble in his ear, his daughter's hot breath coming out in the same tempo as his strokes and her bobbing response, were so much a part of the final act that they blew the flames in the man's fucking apparatus to high heat.
He had given up any idea of controlling his orgasm. Now, he was only trying to get in as many of these delicious penetrations of the young girl's body as he could before he reached the final high point of releasing his seed inside her, in long, hard jets.
In the girl's nerved up body, with the sharp sensitivity in her big breasts rolling in lightning sheets to touch the surging waves of lust in her genitals, there was once again the simple knowledge that nothing is so beautiful as fucking, as cumming, as feeling the hot slickness of a man's jism being shot into your dark vagina.
He dropped his mouth to Janice's as he felt the first explosion of his seed burst up his tubes from his heat swollen balls. His tongue went into hers and they kissed with animal ferocity for the second before his big cock throbbed with the first jet of sperm.
When Jan's body, her straining cunt, felt the burning tide of jism fill her young fuck sheath, she wrenched her mouth away from Dick's. Her voice was hoarser now, from its previous strain, but her body shook with the effort to scream out her wild joy.
"AAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" Each long peal of hoarse and rasping animal delight seemed to throw her harder against the man who was cumming so hard, swelling her small vagina with the added bulk of a big load of semen.
"DADDDDDEEEE! DADDDEEEE!" she wailed, humping and hunching with every muscle in her healthy young body. "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! FUCK HARD! FUCK HARD! OHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH! DEEEEEPPPPERRRR! DADDDEEEE! GO DEEEEPPEEERRRR!" And at last, as she shuddered and let her small body fall limply on the bed, she breathed out: "Ohhh, daddy, it's so good when we fuck! Soooooo goooooddd! So damned good, daddy! You fuck me so gooooddd!"
Her young cunt, so tight for all those long minutes before, seemed loose and lax, warmly slopped with his jism and her cunt flow. It felt so delightful to the big man that he continued to move his body and his big cock, which slipped in and out so sweetly on its thick film of cum juices. There was still a small, heartening flutter of inner muscle to kiss his cock, and he thought, in a sudden rage of mental lust, that he must, before too long, break that final maidenhead, that he must know the gut-deep thrill of fucking her in her girlish asshole.
The raunchy thought made his big organ throb, and this unexpected stretching of her deeply sensitized pussy caused the young girl to fling herself loosely from side to side. At the same time, she let out a weak moan: "NO! NO MORE, DADDY! PLEASE! NO MORE FUCKING!" But her body continued to respond, and Dick, who loved and appreciated every nuance of sex, grinned fiercely against the women-child's neck as her pleading and pitiful supplication paid tribute to his cocksmanship.
He continued to support much of his weight on his elbows and knees, and the two of them were so drenched in sweat that every breath the girl took made her chest and belly move against that of the man she had called "father" almost all her life.
When she stirred, putting her slender, smooth arms up around his neck, rubbing her face on his, he rolled off, laughing, his cock still large and fat.
It was thickly coated with their orgasmic discharges, and Dick, feeling great, feeling sexually hyped up and full of carnal zest, rolled higher and rubbed the sticky organ against little Jannie's breasts, so swollen from her enormous orgasm that they looked as big as Connie's.
She laughed at him, grabbed his warm slick organ, and hastily licked most of the thick juice off. And, because the raunchy idea appealed to her, she pushed her breasts up to her mouth and sucked the coagulating cum juice from them, rolling her eyes up at her father in elaborate pantomime of ecstasy at the taste.
They lay comfortably together, occasionally reaching out to touch some attractively sensual area.
"You've come a long way, baby," Dick laughed. "And in such a short time, too."
"I don't know long a way," the girl said, smiling, "but I know I've cum as often as I could. But it can't be too soon nor too often to suit me! Remember the first time? Wow! You were as bad as I was! When you knocked me away from your peter, when you started to blow your wad, and realized that I was sucking you off!" She hugged her big, taut breasts, laughing at the memory.
"I shook me up, all right," Dick admitted. "I can't figure it out. All along, I was reassuring you that sex was all right, as long as nobody got hurt. I almost wished, in a way, that one of those guys at the party had gotten it into you." He shook his head.
"That's freakish, daddy," the girl said tenderly, putting her face next to Dick's, her hand on his other cheek. She wriggled her warm and naked body alongside his, feeling a glow of new heat come up in the depths of her body. "You've said, all along, that you meant to fuck me. That you wanted me, wanted my pussy. OOOOOOHHH!" And she shivered with lust, remembering bright pictures of wantonness with her daddy. "That gives me a little sort of cum-kink right up my twat! Give me your finger!"
She held his hand and wrist in both hands, moving his finger into her vaginal entry, pushing it deep into the hot, slick folds inside her. "Wow!" she moaned. "Does that ever feel good! We don't get a chance to be this way, naked and all, not often. OOOOOHHHH! I could do it all night!" She craned her neck to look at his penis. It was just as it had been a few minutes before, and she let his hand slip away from her softly haired delta with a sigh.
"You could, but I couldn't," Dick said equably. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. You ought to widen your interests. We can't go on this way. I love you, and I'll always love your sweet little pussy. But I get some funny looks from your mother, here lately. And you know I'd never hurt her."
"Not if you could help it," the child answered, grinning. "I know, daddy. And I know you're right. But you taught me so much, and taught me so well, that I hate to go on to another teacher."
Now it was Dick who laughed. "You little faker," he said fondly. "You could teach most grown women a thing or two. And as far as your own group is concerned, I'll bet you're better than any of the girls, that you know more and screw better. And that there isn't a one of those guys who ever had it any better." He was getting quite worked up, his voice rising softly, and Jannie laughed.
"Okay, okay, daddy! I get the message. And I'll start giving it away as soon as I get a chance." She was jacking his loose cock-skin up and down and grinning. "But I'm still going to get a little of this, once in a while. Won't I? Please?"
"You'd better believe it, cookie," Dick laughed, pulling her up across his loins, so he could stroke his hand between her buttocks, where her cunt juice was staying warm and slick. "And you're going to save this for me, remember?" He jammed his big finger hard against her puckered little asshole, penetrating perhaps an inch, making the young girl leap in reaction as he reamed into the erotically sensitive membranes just inside her.
She had her hand between his thighs, fondling his balls, and she yearned for his stretching cock to be plunged deep into her body as a hungry girl yearns for feed.
"Take it now, daddy!" she gasped her mouth dribbling a clear string of saliva from her lower lip. "Take it now. NOW! NOW!"
She fought his grasp, jerking until she could get her full lips around the heart shaped head of his cock. "MMMMMM!" she moaned around it. "MMMMMM!" And then, hanging onto it with her hand, opening her mouth as wide as she could: "FINGER-FUCK ME, DADDY! DEEP! OHHHHHH! GOOOOODDD! GOOOOODDD! I'M C CCUUUUMMMIIINNNGGG AGAIN! OHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHH!"
Chapter Seven
Connie drove north on Acacia Street. She still had that same wild glow of sexual fulfillment in her loins. Paradoxically, it was a glow of need and desire as well as fulfillment. Connie Haire was not an easy woman to satisfy. She had loved this brutally lovely experience of fucking just for the hell of it. And as a gesture of defiance to the two people she loved best in all the world. It all added together to keep her blood running hot, her cunt swollen and drippy, her nerve-ends aching in anticipation.
She knew that the big kid was thinking about it, too. From the corner of her eye, she could see the big, long shape of his cock in his slacks, and she reached out to stroke it.
"You're a great person, Miz Haire," the boy said in a deep tone. "I can't believe this is happening to me. Too much!"
He glanced back as they turned at a jog on Sky Street. Sure enough, the car was following. He grinned. "I'll bet you really meant it when you said you could out fuck three or four guys like me, didn't you?" he asked, grinning.
Connie laughed. "Maybe I was just bragging," she said easily. "You're pretty good, you know. Am I going right? Is this the way?"
A surge of anticipation made the tall boy shiver, made him laugh louder. "You'll see," he said. "In the next block. On the right hand side. See that pink garage? Pull in there, park in the drive." He was almost bursting with his secret, with his pleasure in what was to come.
He took Connie's arm, tugging her around to the side of the place. This was the remnants of what had been the best residential section of The Bluffs, before the new highway had gobbled up so much of the little town, turning the old homes into antique shops and restaurants. The garage was big, a three-car job that had once been part of an estate now long since gone commercial. But when Harry unlocked a door and turned on lights, Connie gasped. It was weird but beautiful.
"What in the world is it?" she asked, "and who does it belong to? All this equipment? It's like a million-dollar gymnasium!"
Harry crossed over and threw open two windows, quite high up on the north wall. He touched a switch and started an air conditioner to humming. There was a strange looking couch, or Connie supposed it was a couch. It was higher than a couch, more like a big, padded, leather-upholstered table. Above it, in rows, were photographs of girls-or woman, what's the difference, in their poses?-leaning on the table. Leaning over the table. Not a face showed. But every one of these faceless females was bare-ass naked, and the close-ups of their asses, with their oddly similar, oddly differing pussies showing plainly, was a weird sight.
"What IS this?" she asked again, and realized her voice was getting high and strained. She turned and almost stumbled on something she had not noticed before. Big, padded mats, such as she had seen at college and high school wrestling matches. Seven or eight of them. In some cases, piled three deep. They were like a bed, too. She felt the breath catch in her throat, and thought: I'm being silly. What is there in this simple place to frighten me?
But she started back to the door, until Harry laughed and said: "It's just what you called it-a million-dollar gymnasium. Only it's not. Not a million-dollar one. D'you know Frank Botsford? The real estate guy? He's a big football fan, you know the kind I mean? A real freak." He had his big hand under her arm and was moving it up and down on her bare skin, as if he were gentling a nervous colt. And Connie liked it, liked the feeling it gave her in the smooth warmth near her armpit, so near her big breast.
"Botsford?" she mused aloud. "Botsford? He's the one who bought most of this property before the highway went in. Likes football players, does he?" She laughed, a bit breathlessly, but she was feeling ever so much better. She put her arm around the tall boy's strong body. "If he was thinking right, he'd go for those smooth little chickies who lead the cheers," she said, and giggled. She was feeling warm and ready, something warm and slick was gathering in the thick, swollen cuntlips under her dress. "But, to each his own."
"Now you're talking," Harry said. He led her toward a corner where four mats were stacked, and they sat down on it. IN it, was more like it. The mats were soft, with no coil springs for support, and the two people sank into the resilient softness. "Wow!" Connie exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "My old friend, Hugh Wright, would say this would give you two ups to one down. Does Mister Botsford let you use this whenever you want to?" She felt gluey, warm, sticky, pressing her fat, sensitive pussy between her heavy thighs.
"He's awful nice to us, Miz Haire," the boy said earnestly. "He's a red-hot Stanford alum, takes one or two of us guys up the coast when the Indians have a big game-you know, that kind of thing. Helps the coaches work up a little interest. And several of us, fellows he and some others think can make it-well-he fixed this up just for us. Like it?"
Connie was almost panting, she was so eager to try whatever it was that Harry had in mind. She pulled him back on the pads, laughing, and her hand went to the front of his slacks. "This is better than a motel," she said. She thought of The Pines, the fine old place on the north edge of Corona Beach, the next town up the coast. This was better. At The Pines, unless she went in through the dining room, and had Harry sneak around, someone might see her. She leaned on him, kissing him, her heat rising as she got a hand on his big, warm cock.
"Come on," she laughed, sitting up. "Let me get those clothes off of you! Oh, Harry, this is a lovely surprise!" Her glance went to the opposite wall. "I see from your art gallery that it's been a lovely surprise to quite a number of the chickies," she said drily. "Who's the photographer?"
"Oh, we all know how to use the cameras," Harry answered. "Hey, that doesn't turn you off, does it? Nobody gets dragged in here, kicking and screaming. They know what's what and where it's at, and they want to get it on. No rape, you know," and he laughed. "If you were a young guy, and had a place like this, and dug to fuck, what would you do? Really, on the square?"
He suddenly seemed very young, even if he was standing there by her, so tall, and so exquisitely built, in his stark nudity.
Connie, sitting on the bedlike stack of pads, hugged his strong legs, her face against his aromatic crotch. She felt his big cock stir, and turned so that she could get her smooth, wet lips around the tip of it. It was rankly delightful, still holding a residue of her inner fluids, congealed lumps of his jism. She felt him tremble, and sucked as much of the heavy organ into her mouth as she could get.
"If it didn't have something to do with fucking," she gasped, letting the boy's prick slip out of her mouth, "I wouldn't like it!"
He fell down beside her, hugging her strong, beautifully formed body to him. "Some kind of titties," he moaned, reaching between them to push one of the big, warm pillows of flesh up so he could put more squeeze on it. "I never knew a girl with big boobs that didn't have real feeling in them," he observed, licking the hard nipple, sucking it gently, tapping the grainy end of it with his tongue. It made his blood race when Connie impulsively held his face against her tender breast, smashing it with her own fervor.
"I could cum," she whispered hoarsely. "If you sucked my tit long enough and hard enough, even if you never touched my puss, I could shoot my wad! That's how much feeling I have in 'em! Oh, Harry, let's get it on! Please, baby! Want to sixty-nine? Or do you want to fuck? Come ON! BABY! GIVE IT TO ME!"
He got up on his knees and worked around to where he was just above her head. "I'll give you a titty-cum," he said. "I want to see if you're as good as you say. I'll suck your boobs up by the roots. I want to see if you can get off that way."
He bent and kissed her, his big tongue going deep into her mouth, squirming, alive, probing in her cheeks, against her gums, on the ridged roof of her mouth. That's what makes it feel so good when she sucks my joint rubbing it on the roof of her mouth! he thought. God damn! I'll have to teach Mary and Tricia and Rena how to do that. Wow!
He was heating up, too, and his cock was reaching full size. He could feel Connie squirming, so he let go her face and, with both big hands, he grabbed as much titty as he could in each, giving them a deliberately torturing squeeze. When he let her go and sat back up, his long, thick rod sticking out across the woman's face, she shuddered, hugged her breasts with her forearms, and said in a husky voice: "That almost did it, baby! But I meant for you to suck my boobs. OOOOOHH, it's so lovely here, Harry! Come on, honey, you want to suck my boobs or do you want me to suck your lovely cock?" He held her head between his knees, and his prick was just above her face. He knew that he could almost pop his nuts just by looking at a pussy, and he figured that Connie's mind was equally aphrodisiac.
"Now, Miz Haire," he said softly, "I'm going to make you cum. Just sucking those big old, good looking, sweet smelling titties of yours." He laughed, seeing her body move in a fuck-motion, just hearing him talk about it.
She thought she heard something metallic, like a door clicking, but she was on the high peak of a chasm full of delight, a dark, warm abyss of writhing, mind blowing orgasm. He felt her quiver, and as he leaned down to suck in the throbbing breast, he saw Sammy Priest and Roy Willard edging out of the bathroom. Both were naked, both had trembling hard-ons, and their grins had the animal ferocity of big cats. With the hard nipple in his mouth, holding the soft fullness of the warm breast in both hands, Harry winked as best he could. He didn't have to tell the boys what to do. They would know. Or, with that voluptuous body spread before them, with that lovely, thick lipped cunt wide open and drooling its juice through the woman's tightly closed cunt hole, they would think of something.
There was a strange randiness at work in Connie's fine body. The sudden desire to fuck someone other than Dick, the natural-to her, at least-desire to give herself to Janice's "tough guy hero," and to take as well as give-they had kept her hot all that day. Until at last, wrapped in the young, powerful, amoral embrace of the overgrown kid, finding his body and his cock as hot-making as her already heated cunt could want, she had had that oddly beautiful return to her youth. Fucking and sucking in a car! Right up on the edge of the bluffs, looking at old memories in her dark mind as the high school football hero shot his big load into her.
It had kept her hot. She had craved absolute body love, pure nudity, complete contact. Getting everything she had, every cunt hair, every wrinkle between cunt lip and thigh, every juice-swilling pore in her cuntal fountains involved.
This wild kid was sucking on her breast with the crazy power of a breast-feeding infant. He was tearing it from her ribs, he was swallowing her whole! There were streaks of cum fire shooting madly down across her belly, stabbing into her clitoral nerves. I'm going to do it, she thought proudly. I'm going to cum just from getting my titties sucked! Unconsciously, she spread her strong thighs wider, feeling the exploding heat gather deep inside, feeling the fiery itch in her inner cuntlips mount to the firing point.
She was tempted to sneak one hand down to tease her clit, feeling she couldn't wait for the coming pangs of orgasm, when she felt something warm, strong, and unbelievably beautiful come down on her wildly demanding cunt.
It was too much. She could not know that, at this moment of one of the greatest sexual moments of her life, other people were involved. She did not feel a new mouth, new hands, clamp on her other breast, any more than she felt hot lips and strongly penetrating tongue sucking her pussy almost inside out. It was a moment of vast wildness, of superhuman pleasure. Her entire body was taking part in this carnal feast as she bucked and screamed, her wild outcries partially muffled against the broad chest of the boy above her. Her hot breath blew among the few hairs on his powerful body, and he grinned as he felt moist warmth and heard her screams.
"OOOOOOOOHHH!" It was enough to burst her lungs, a long, high, vibrating scream. "OOOOOOOHHH!" Her strong arms went up over Harry's broad back, and she was fighting to get her mouth on his peter. Buried deep in the dark, shooting fire of her monster orgasm, she still struggled to give the big boy his pleasure. And her cries poured out in cadence with the violent pounding of sensation through all her fuck system.
"HAAAARRRRRYYYY! OH GOD, HARRY BABY! OHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH!SOOOOOO GOOOOOOODDDD! SOOOOO GOOOODDDD, BABY!" And then that wild wolf howl again: "OWWWWWWOOOOOOOO! OWWWWWWOOOOOO! OHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHHHHH!"
Her cries were becoming strained as the huge cum continued to wrack her body with uncontrollable spasms. "PPLLLLEEEASSSE! OH, HARRY! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!"
Sammy Priest, who loved cunt and all its pleasures as much as any male could, at last put his powerful arms around the flying legs of the woman whose vagina he had sucked until it was completely closed. He was not sadistic, at least no more than any other healthy, fired up young man taking part in a semi-rape. But he knew this beautiful, voluptuous woman. He had eyed her gorgeous breasts, her graciously stacked body, her stirring beauty ever since he was big enough to store sperm in his young balls. Now, he wanted all of this softly flowing, redly swollen pussy he could get. Any way he could get it.
He loved the sight, the feel, the smell, the taste of this marvelous cunt, this beautiful body. And he was wise enough to know that even the most spirited woman can be reduced to a screaming automaton if she is fucked-or sucked, for that matter-more than her nerves anybody can stand. He wanted her that way. And he knew her cuntal nerves were screaming with a wild joy that could soon become a deep, searing, mind bending pain. A cunt sucked dry, a cunt with its raw nerves brought smashing together by a harsh vacuum, that was his desire. And he was not the only one who wanted her to beg.
Even with his cock so tense and hard that a touch would have brought his thick cream shooting over Connie Haire's face and breast, Harry Tenison was grinningly happy to hold his load for as long as necessary, applying the pressure on the woman's fuck nerves, for he was equally anxious to reduce her, at least temporarily, to gibbering sexual idiocy. Makes these ladies more fun, he thought, knowing his two buddies were thinking the same way. I never had anyone as classy as you, Miz Haire, dear, but I expect you roll and scream and finally faint from fuck shock, just like other ladies who come to play house with Old Roy and Old Sam and Old Harry. Woweeeee!
He felt Connie's body suddenly go slack, and he raised his face from her love-tortured breast, watching with interest as the heavy muscles in her belly continued to roll from the giant orgasm. Over the brown bush of her cunt hair, he saw the flushed face of Roy Willard, his cheeks sunken in with the powerful suction he was using to raise, and continue to raise, this woman's heat until she could no longer resist, or, or do anything except weakly give way to the unceasing series of orgasms. Then, and only then, when she was only a lump of hot and whining and responsive meat, when she would cum if you so much as breathed into her cunt hair, they could really have their long afternoon of fun. And into the night. Why not? Who would guess where she was? And how would she dare to complain, to tell what had happened? Because, by the time she got that way, so much would happen to her, so much that was degrading and spirit breaking, that her own mind would recoil at the thoughts. She wouldn't dare tell all. And she couldn't.
They knew. It had happened before.
As her marvelous body flared in deeper and deeper sexual responses, and as her belly flung itself up, jabbing her soft, juice-slicked cunt toward young Willard's cleverly chewing mouth, Connie was saved by the smallest possible event. She was afflicted with a desperate need to void her bladder of urine. Such a natural thing!
She had drunk a cup of coffee at home, before she started on the prowl. She had had a Coke in the Sugar Bowl. And now it was peepee time. The tension on her cum nerves only made it worse. And the deep, piercing need to piss cooled her in body and mind.
In the momentary return to sanity, Connie's fine mind leaped the strictures of unbelievability-she knew there were three men working on her. She knew, also, where they were. And she acted. She let go a hard stream of body-warmed urine.
Young Willard, his nose and mouth filled with the hotly ammoniac drenching of Connie's piss, with all his face washed in it, and his hair soaked, drew back, blinded and roaring.
With no compunctions, Connie swung her strong left arm up to catch Harry across the bridge of his nose.
And then, while the shocked and surprised Harry was blinded by the powerful blow across his nose, Connie raised her head, sank her strong, white teeth into the muscular shoulder of the other boy, grinding with all the strength of her jaws. It was a cruel and painful surprise, cutting through tough skin and hard muscle, leaving two gashes over an inch long, from which blood flowed profusely.
She thrust her sweated body up off the mat, and aimed a barefooted kick at Roy's face, catching him just above the ear. It was enough to throw him off balance, but his reflexes were those of a trained athlete, and he grabbed Connie's ankle, twisting and pulling.
She fell with all the weight of her body on the pile of mats, and the three boys, all of them enraged, fell on her at once.
She went down under the three hard, naked bodies, her lovely breasts crushed painfully under two of the big kids, while the third, still screaming with rage because Connie had pissed in his face, grabbed a handful of cunt hair and tried to wrench it up by the roots. She could not help screaming, and Connie's voice was back, recovered, in its full timbre.
Young Priest, who was shedding blood over all of the quartet, was the first to roll away, cursing, and he yelled: "Fuck her, you guys! Hold her down and pour it on her! Goddamn BITCH!"
In the woman's struggles, which were desperate, grunting, panting, she pushed Harry part way off her. But now Roy Willard leaped astride her body, his full weight on her belly, and he held one of her clawing hands as Harry caught the other. Immediately, with his long, hard cock between her fine breasts, his hard knees in her armpits, he began to slap the woman savagely, methodically, first on one side of her face, then on the other.
Anyone who has ever been slapped with uncontrolled brutality knows what it is like to "see stars." Connie's vision was blurred by a haze of bright lights, there was a growing burden of hard pain that kept her eyes stinging with tears, and each slap was like a pistol shot in her ears. At the same time, the big boy on top of her was shoving that marvelous cock of his between her big, soft breasts, held together by his knees, and she was aware of it. Even in the unbearable pain of the slapping, she was aware of the cock.
But at last there was a respite from the beating. It came from an unlikely source, her friend Harry.
"Cut it out, you goddamned idiot!" he grated, knocking Roy's arms aside. "Don't leave any marks! You know enough to know that! If somebody ever squawks, it's their word against ours. As long as there's no black eyes, or split lips. Haven't you got a dab of sense?"
"The dirty bitch pissed in my face," young Willard screamed. "Look at me! Smell me!"
"Okay, baby," Harry said, trying not to laugh. "So you got pissed on. I've heard you say of women not half this good looking that you'd let 'em piss in your eye, just to see where it came from. So, you saw it. You don't have to kill her just because she tried to defend herself as best she could."
"And look what she did to me," the tall Priest boy, tight end on the Santa Elena High School team, moaned. "I bet I've lost a quart of blood! How the hell am I going to stop this?" He sounded frightened, and Connie, who was now able to see and hear, since that hard and painful beating had ceased, was inwardly glad that she had paid off at least one of her tormentors with something not easy to forget. But she remained still, deathly afraid of the hornet's nest she had stirred up with her resistance.
"Cut it out," Harry growled. "You're no cry baby, Priest. I've seen you hurt twice as bad as that, and not even know it until after a game. Go put some water on it, and some iodine. And then close those cuts with band aids. Sonofabitch," and he held Connie's long blonde hair and jerked it painfully, "you came on mighty tough, lady!"
He laughed, and it was not a merry sound. He leaned over and spat in Connie's face, a shower of saliva that splattered all over her face. "We'll see how you like it, baby. When old Sammy eats your cunt lips right out of your fat snatch! Hear that, Priest?" he cried to the big boy now in the bathroom. "Maybe you can take a big bite right out of Old Lady Haire's pussy!"
Roy Willard, still holding the woman's big, warm breasts closely around his cock, continued to saw back and forth in this tender valley. He laughed at the horror in Connie's expression. "He's only kidding, lady," the boy said in a mean tone. "Remember, he wouldn't let me knock you around anymore. Knock you up, maybe, ho-ho-ho, but not knock you around." Nevertheless, he reached back as if he were riding a horse, and slapped the startled Connie several loud, painful blows with his open hand on her smooth thigh.
Harry, whose eyes still ran a few tears from the unexpected blow the woman had dealt him, had to laugh. "You silly bastard," he exclaimed, "ten guys like you couldn't knock this old broad up. Woman like her, she's on those pills. That right, Miz Haire?" And he jerked at Connie's tresses, making her groan in pain. "See, Roy?" he asked. "This hurts a woman to beat hell, gives her a headache, and she couldn't show any marks if she was going to complain."
He reached around the muscular rump of the big boy who was fucking Connie between the tits and laid his big hand on her pussy. As his fingers went down into the slickness of her inner lips, he said in a tense voice: "Man, this is one hot lady! She really digs to fuck. What we ought to do, she's got at least three good holes, you know what I mean? We ought to make a three way sandwich out of her. Get her on top of maybe Priest. His cock in her snatch okay? You can get a head job. She can suck cock like nobody you ever knew. I guarantee! And I," and here he goosed his long fingers deep into the captive woman's body, striking her womb's mouth a sickening jolt, "I'll stick it in her ass! Wow!" He twisted his finger again inside Connie's vagina, hurting her, and tears of agony and frustration welled from her eyes.
"Harry," she gasped. "Please! I thought we were friends." She tried to pitch the Willard boy off her, straining as hard as she could, but he held down one arm, and Harry held the other, so that all she could do was strain and twist her body.
Harry squealed with laughter, drawing his finger out of her cunt and wiping it along her upper lip. "Tough shit," he said. "I meant to tell you about this club. If one guy brings in a girl, any other guy that wants a little, he can have her, too. Ask Sammy boy. He brought his little sister, and five of us banged her. Rules, you know!" He began to laugh, and the Willard boy, sucking in his breath, stopped shoving his big prick between her boobs. Strangely, his action seemed worse than the titty-fucking, now that he had stopped. At least, while he was ramming that big, smooth skinned peter between her responsive breasts, she was getting some pleasure.
The thought shocked her. Getting some pleasure from having a young male piglet abuse me, she thought darkly, when I'd like to cut his cock and balls off and stuff them down his throat!
She looked somewhat less miserable, and an idea came to her. If I play along with these junior lechers, maybe I can get away. To Harry, she said with a touch of anger: "Then why in hell didn't you tell me? I told you I could fuck a dozen guys like you under the table. What's the matter with you, Roy Willard? Can't cum, huh? Big boy, don't know how to lick a pussy, scared to cum for fear you can't cum again! Big deal!"
She could move her torso, at least her loins, and she did so. "If I had your finger in my cunt now," she said in grim amusement to Harry, "I could chew it off with my pussy. You're some kind of in-between nuts-not boys any longer, maybe, but you sure as hell are sorry specimens of men."
Surprisingly, and encouragingly, Harry began to laugh. "You're really something, Miz Haire," he said. "She means it, Willard. She really thinks she can fuck us down. And she really has got a snapping pussy. Like to milked my dick right off my crotch." He let go of her hair, and reached to get one of her swollen nipples, which he pinched brutally. No fun for Connie in this, only pure pain. "Think we ought to try to fuck her down, fair and square, Roy baby?"
Now it was Roy who spat in the woman's face. "Shit, no!" he snarled. "She pissed in my face. I'm going to cum between her fat old tits, and shoot my cream all over her face. Up her nose. In her hair. And then, after it goes down, I'm going to piss all over her. Down her throat. And then we're all going to work on her at once. All of us. And we're going to fuck her until she begs for mercy. Like we did with that church lady from over by Ransome City. You ought to've seen her, Miz High-and-Mighty Haire! She got so fucked up, so out of her tree from us banging her, that she came by here every Thursday night. After choir practice, yet!" He raised his big face to the ceiling and laughed in a long wolf howl. "She was fuck-nutty, Miz Shit-Don't-Stick Haire! And you'll be, too. When we get through!"
Connie drew a deep breath. She had instinctively tried to protest herself, using any means she could, when she had let her stored up urine fly in young Willard's face. And there was something fanatic in the boy, either hatred for women or overblown ego, which made that harmless defense a horrible thing in his young eyes. She was in real danger, and she knew it. But still, there was the wild picture of being sexually used by all three of these young studs! It was a crazy thought, but she held it: It might be more wildly exciting than anything I've ever known. If only I could deal with one at a time! That way, maybe I could handle them.
She asked Harry in an ordinary tone if he would release her right arm. "I promise, I won't kill either of you," she said with a gasping laugh. "I want to scratch my nose, for one thing. And I want to rub old Willard's peter. Honest, Roy. It felt so good between my boobs-I don't see why you had to stop."
She rubbed the heavy kid's prick, and even used her free hand to push her right breast up. "If you move up just a little, you could fuck between my tits, and each time the head came to my chin, I could suck it a little. Man, that's a hot idea! And Harry could kneel down between my legs and get it in me. Wow! I'm getting hot, just thinking about it!"
Some of her heat affected them. Even Roy Willard seemed to cool his animosity. "She's not kidding," Harry said. "She's the hottest woman I ever ran across. Hey, go on, move up, let her suck it as you push up to her lip! And I'll stick it in her twat!"
It was not strange that Connie's heart began to beat faster. She was, in truth, a very, very hot lady. And the aroma of the big kid's heavy cock, having its thick skin pulled back at each lunge between her warm, smooth pillows of tit-flesh, made her mouth water.
She groaned with a deep swell of pleasure as Harry got the purple head of his big cock into her cuntal aperture. It was still wildly tender from her long orgasm, from young Willard's hard sucking.
"OOOOOOOOH! OH, HARRY, GO EASY! BABY, BABY! OH, IT HURTS ME SO GOOOOODDD!" She hunched her strong loins up and down in an easy swell, and Roy, his face a grinning mask of lust, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up.
Sure enough, his cock was just coming to her lips. When she opened them, after shooting out her pink tongue to slick them with spit, his cock went partway into her mouth.
She sucked it like a plum, and groaned as she had to let it go. "OH, ROY," she moaned. "I HATE TO LOSE IT! SHOOT THAT CREAM FOR ME, BABY! OOOOOOHHH! I LOVE IT SO!"
Her body made a series of hard, fast moves on Harry's cock, and most of her fear left her. Men might lose their tempers, but only maniacs stayed angry with a woman who gave them a good fuck, a happy time. And the big prick prodding into her juice-loose cunt felt better now than ever. It was a weird pleasure, the rankness of off-beat sex, the spice of danger. And the strange feeling that she would come out of this desperate situation without harm. She sucked briefly on the head of Roy's cock. It was gorgeous, its high-smelling residues seeming to go perfectly with this unsanctified scene. When she rolled her eyes at him, and stroked her hand up and down his hard belly, he hunched harder, and almost two inches of his cock went right into her mouth, so she could swirl her tongue around it.
"MAMA! MAMA!" he yelled. "Tenison, you dog, you really knew something! WOW!" he cried as he again surged into her saliva dripping lips, "This is too good! TOOOOOO GOOOOODDD!"
There was a sudden rise of pressure in his balls. This was the most exciting woman he had ever known, better than the best he had ever hoped to get his cock into. That beautiful face, with its full red lips, sucking his cock as he rammed it between the softness of her big, perfect tits-man! And the titties were so warm and smooth against his hard thighs, their nipples almost blood red with her excitement and heat. He turned to look back, and old Tenison had his eyes closed in ecstasy, his big cock working in and out of those soft lips. He could see that Harry's tool was big enough to drag part of her cunt's pink lining out with it. Or did she just have an educated cunt that sucked on a guy?
He saw the sweat-or maybe it was overflowing cum juice-on the insides of Connie's thighs. Hot, hot, hot! He looked back and noted for the first time that Connie, unlike most older women, did not shave her armpits. Marvelous! Like the young chickies, she had a rankly sweated tuft of curly hair under each arm. Only more of it than the young foxes had. In a surprise to him, he began to cum.
And Connie, cumming too, strained to keep her mouth on the red and swollen cockhead as it shot its big mouthfuls of slick, rich jism. Some of it splattered her face. Some of it, to Roy's hard delight, shot up her nose and into her hair. But the beautiful part was, she was sucking, trying to get it just as it shot, and she was swallowing it! What a woman! A jism lover! He had a momentary tenderness toward her, his anger, hard held inside him, cooled a trifle.
Behind him, he heard Harry begin to bellow: "OH, LADY! FUCK ME GOOD, FUCK ME HARD! OOOOOOHHH, MY PRICK! FUCK IT HARD! FUCK IT HARD! I'M CUMMMMMIIINNNGGGG! OOOOOOHHH! OH GOD, HOW GOOD!"
The heat from both of these strange caressing abuses of her warm body had changed Connie's mood from despair, pain, confusion and hate to a different, a sweeter feeling.
Her orgasm had been long lasting, deeply swirling in her guts. The friction on her clit, as Harry pushed his big organ into her, had triggered the huge wave of fluttering cum quakes. And the pounding of his heavy cock, at an angle which made him massage her cervix with every plunging stroke, made sure that the delightful cumming warmed her all through every inch of her fuck system.
On top of that, young Willard's load of sperm had been so mouth-filling, so rankly, richly sweet, and his cock-and-tit massage had been so stirring, that it had all come together to give her one of the most magical sexual experiences of her life.
She was lying relaxed, eyes closed, her tired head lying on one cheek, feeling big Harry Tenison's cock still trembling inside her, when she heard the bathroom door open. Heard Sam Priest's voice.
"Been having a little fun, right? Okay! Hey, I've got an idea. Didn't I hear you tell Willard he couldn't knock up a lady like this one?" He pulled his bandaged shoulder under his eyes and looked at it. "We've got all afternoon. All night, if we need it. And I know someone we can knock up! Little angel-pants, the prissy-ass virgin! Know what I mean? Janice Haire!" And they all howled in animal glee.
Connie's heart sank. She now knew there was no kindness in these kids toward which she might respond, hoping they would respond as she did. And Janice! Hot, vulnerable, gullible little Jannie. Oh God! These wolves would tear her apart with their cocks.
And then she had a bittersweet thought. At least, they'd get no maidenhead. Dick had taken care of that!
Chapter Eight
In the big corner bedroom of the dignified old motel, Dick felt a glow of pride in himself and his daughter. Less than three months ago, she had been a frightened, shrinking child, afraid of life, afraid of sex, afraid of everything. Except, just possibly, of her parents. And, for obvious reasons-at least, Dick felt they were obvious-some instinct had driven her to him. For the sort of support, the sort of instructions, she would need.
He held the dark haired child in the crook of his arm, playing with her lavishly beautiful young titties. She still had a marvelous tan, except for two narrow stripes where her scanty bikinis cupped her young titties and that narrow space across her loins where the curly dark hair grew in a light patch across her throbbing little cunt. Those stripes of skin were milk-white, the translucent beauty that is set off by tender traceries of blue veins marking where hot blood feeds the flesh and nerves and fibers of life. In the upper of these two white stripes, barely covering the warmly erected nipples, the girl felt each heartbeat in their erotic nerve ends. She squealed as Dick's mouth closed over one of them, as he sucked hard, giving her a gut-deep thrill clear down to her palpitating young crotch.
When he let go, she buried her flushed face in his chest, kissing at the mat of hair, licking his sweat. Her hand rubbed softly along his sticky cock, and she sighed as she thought of the time. They would have to leave, soon. Not even time for another fuck. But her mouth watered for the feel and richness of taste that his big organ always gave her.
She pushed away and scrunched down, not saying anything, not looking at him. When she got her face into the fragrant, sweat-marked crotch area, she rubbed her smooth young cheek on the sweet flesh and skin of his prick, and began to lip at its head, very gently. As he patted her head, moving it here and there unconsciously, she giggled. "Can't you trust me to do it right?" she asked. "After all these weeks?"
He let her suck him, moving his body in pleasure, until she got warmed up and moved her butt toward his face. He pulled her legs apart and got her across his body, so that he could look directly into her wide-open pussy. It was gorgeously feminine, still girlish but so beautifully on its way to full-fleshed, fully-haired maturity.
"What a little beauty," he said softly, raising his head to lick between those perfect cunt lips, to taste and inhale the lovely juices and aromas which their lovemaking had produced.
The girl made herself into a little bundle and rolled around, kissing him on the mouth. "You're about to tell me we have to go, aren't you, daddy?" she asked, smiling. "I always know that note in your voice. Even when we first-uh-did anything."
He stroked her warm, smooth back. He did not allow himself to think too often of Connie when he and Jan were together. To him, that would have been sick, sick, sick. He had what this precious child had needed, the know-how and the raunchy type of guts that made it possible for him to instruct her in the raw details of sex. If Connie could only know! But, with God's help, she never would. And he knew, in his heart, that Connie, being a woman and a mother, could never have given this kid the hard, unvarnished, lifelong instruction that he could. Because he was a man, because he had his own deep respect for women and their sexuality, and because he loved this miniature woman enough to spare her nothing.
Except one thing. He had never bungholed her, never stuck his big prick into the tenderness of her tight little asshole. Someday, assuredly, he would. On some bright day when they were alone, when Janice would have grown into a young woman rather than a child. When they were full of laughter at old times, when Jannie was having her own secret love life. And, of course, when Connie was out of town. Then he would take it, not carefully, afraid of damaging the little puckery ring that was her sweet little shit hole. But in laughter and love and lust, enjoying her squeals of mingled protest and acquiescence.
He gave a lovingly brutal twist to her firm young breast, so bountiful in its present opulence, so much more so in its promise. "Wise guy, aren't you?" he said. "It's a good thing one of us has sense enough to get up and get dressed and get the hell out of here. And listen, young lady, you know we're coming to the end of an era, don't you? Much as I love you-and I promise you, you'll always be my most cherished little fucking friend-I can't keep on being married to two women. If your mother doesn't find us out and kill me for it, I'll die of being over fucked."
He made a comically exaggerated face of concern, and the young girl laughed deep in her throat and clung to him. "I know," she said, and there was the vibration of tears in her voice. "I know, daddy. You know I love you for what you've done for me. You know I thank you from the bottom of my heart." She had her hand on his cock again, holding it in a warm, moist grip, squeezing it gently. "And this, I mean being with you all afternoon like this, it's been wonderful!"
She began to sniffle, still frigging his cock slowly and gently, and he laughed and swatted her on her gorgeous little rump. "It may very well be the only time we'll ever have it this way," he said, and there was a definite regret in his voice. "Three weeks ago, on this date, we went to my office. Remember?"
She looked up at him under her long eyelashes, where a crystal tear or two hung suspended. "Yes. Yes I do. Oh, daddy, I'm not complaining if this really is the last time! You've taught me so much! I'll make out okay. I'm not a scaredy cat anymore." She threw her soft, strong young arms around his neck, kissing him all over his ruggedly handsome face. "Oh, that day in the office! How lovely!"
In spite of his armor of self trust, in spite of his conviction that sex is beautiful, and does no one any harm unless thoughtlessness or malice are present, Dick winced. He had spent almost two months of a deeply sexual, explicitly sensual relationship with this young girl-without going over the edge.
"Show me where my best places are," the girl would demand, flushed and laughing as they enjoyed their beautiful moments together. And Dick, holding her thick, warm cunt lips apart, looking into the draining pinkness of oozing labia and vein-reddened membrane, would reply: "No, baby. I'll touch. And you tell me!" And he would lick, or poke a gentle finger around her clit, or into the slick, tight ring of slickened muscle around her cuntal aperture. Or perhaps he would slip his hard tongue into her, if they were where they could lie together in warmth and confidence, naked to each other's touch and sight. In the car, they couldn't. But when Connie was away, for a night meeting, or a long day with her committees, ah, those were the bright moments.
"I'm glad you've got the kind of job you have," the young girl sighed on one of the first of these occasions. "And I'm so glad you aren't mean about me learning-well-some of these hard things."
"Like what?" he would ask, teasing her, but wanting her to feel comfortable with the toughly lovely language of sexual love.
"Like, uh, like sucking you off," the child would say, and bury her flaming face against him. And he would take her bright face and set it on his hard prick, trembling with love and excitement as her sweet and girlish mouth went on over that monstrous thing. And she would say: "I want to watch him shoot off! I want that white stuff to shoot out on me, and hit me in the titties! But oh, daddy, I want it in my mouth, too! To feel it swell so big, and feel that hot, sweet tasting stuff shoot all over the inside of my mouth!"
And this would lead to another laughing demand: "When are you going to let me have him in my vagina? And shoot all that stuff into me? 'Cause it's okay, isn't it? Now I'm on the Pill?"
She had been so proud of that. And Dick, compressing memories of these nearly three months into a few seconds, quivered inside with doubt. Had he really, truly meant to help this girl grow into a real person? To mature? To lose her fear? That's what he'd told himself when he put her on The Pill. But deep inside him, a leering satyr appeared in the mists of his mind, saying: "You dog, you! All the time, you meant to fuck her!" And he could only answer: "Maybe. It could be."
Incredible that it had been only three weeks since he had first ravaged her young and tender cunt! And, if he had only known, that was also the day that Connie saw them. How was she to know that, until that day, it had been only a phase of his instruction? But he had gone as far as he could go. And remain sane. That day, one of the precious times when they dared to enjoy the fullness of lying together naked, when little Jannie had suddenly become more demanding. If there were any pivotal point in this relationship, perhaps it was that day. That one day too many, that one dare too many.
But, looking at the reality of this warm, firmly shaped little naked girl, now so fuck-wise and suck-wise, Dick knew he could never be sorry, never feel remorse. That one day hadn't started it. Maybe, his marrying the beautiful mother of a year-old baby girl had been the starting point. Especially since the baby girl had come to such marvelously grown up loveliness in her thirteenth year.
On that day of Connie's painful discovery, it took only a tiny spark to blow everything up. Dick had playfully pushed the young girl on her back, and she had laughingly raised her strong young legs, opening her girlish pussy. "Go on, I dare you!" she had said. "I double dare you! OOOOOOOHHH, DADDY! HOLD ME TIGHT! I'M CUUUUMMMIINNNNGGGG!" An she had thrown herself on him, fucking up and down on his thigh as he held her, laughing, his tongue as hard as his cock.
"You just lie still, baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Unless you truly mean you want me to stick it in you! That's all that's left. You've had my cock down your sweet throat. You've eaten my jism!"
The girl trembled hard, holding on to his arms, and then said: "I guess this is it. I can't go on like this, letting you teach me, so patient and loving! Oh, daddy, that's what you've been! Loving and patient! And not getting anything out of it. Nothing real, I mean."
She was pressed against him and her young breasts, so large for such a sprite, shook with the beating of her heart. He looked at her body, so slim and yet so warm with the assurance of womanhood. He looked down between those jiggling titties to the sparse growth of dark hair on her fat little twat, to where her lovely thighs pressed together. His cock, its head shiny and dark red with the engorgement of hot blood, nodded and jerked near her pelvic bone. And he made up his mind.
"I can't take a chance on hurting Connie," he said. "You know that. But you're right. It's gone on for too long. Get dressed. I'll drive the car around to the back and you can come out and get in."
He kissed her hard, his big tongue going into her mouth in a complete and penetrating expression of love. "We'll go to my office," he grinned. "We'll go down there and pull my big red couch out and make a lovely bed. And we'll fuck there! Really fuck!"
Dick Haire was regional Sales Manager for Emperor Electric, which, he sometimes said, was better than owning the company. "I make almost as much as a vice-president," he loved to joke, "and I don't have the responsibility."
His office was large, with a private hideaway, complete with a large, luxurious couch that became a soft bed almost at a touch. Nobody knew of this bed except Dick. None of his salesmen. He had no office girl, preferring an answering service. And certainly, Connie didn't know about it.
When they were warmly together in the comfort of the couch, with all doors bolted, the lithe, beautifully nude young girl once more leaned on her stepfather, looking up into his eyes. She was panting, her petal-like skin was flushed, her eyes bright. "Now," she whispered brokenly. "Now, daddy Dick! Let it happen! I want it so!"
The big man had moved easily between the young girl's thighs, smiling down at her tense face. Once more, she put her legs up, but this time they were alongside his ribs, and her smooth-looking cunt, looking so pitifully young, was raised by her position.
"Put it in, daddy," she whispered hoarsely. "Please! Please! I've waited so long! Oh, daddy, I'm so close to cumming!"
She touched her legs to his flanks as he crouched above her on hands and knees. But she had moaned piteously, and her flowerlike face was taut.
"What's the matter now?" the man asked, his patience ebbing. "You better make up your mind! Once I get the head in, that's it, baby! Fucksville! And all the yelling and screaming and begging in the world won't save you. I'm a little tired of this, too. So what do you want?" He sounded petulant, and was.
"Oh, daddy," the girl whispered, tears in her dark eyes, "don't be mad! I just wondered-you know how I can't control myself when I start to get off." Her smile was apologetic. "Can people hear me, here? When I shoot it, I mean."
She was beautiful, so appealing, her lovely young body so full of promise and life, that Dick was touched. "Sorry," he said. His voice was choked, but his smile was warm again. "Holler all you like. These walls are fireproof, sound proof, so let yourself go. You know, baby, this kind of worries me a little, too." He rubbed the slick, broad head of his cock up and down in her softly drooling little slit. "I never even had my finger in you. Not all the way. I don't want to split you wide open."
She had reached between them, taking a firm but gentle hold on his cock. Her heels rested lightly on his back. "I'm not all that small, not really," she said. "I've been doing what you told me to. When we first started talking about it." She frigged the soft skin back and forth, and now it was the girl who had the most confidence, for she was grinning as the warmth of the big cock felt so good in her small, soft hand. "I got one finger into it a long time ago. When you first told me-well, all that stuff-you know what I mean, I got two in there. Don't worry. It'll go in. I'll make it go in!"
He let her pull him down to her by his prick, maintaining balance easily on his muscular arms. "If I just don't overheat and shoot it all over you," he said. What a great kid she was! All guts. And all of it in less than three months.
"Holler if it hurts you," he said. "Oh, Beautiful, baby! WOWEE! OH, god DAMN IT! OH! OH!"
He was still above her, his cock only an inch or just a bit more into that pink little hole. Her eyes were shut tight, and he could see her eyeballs move, under the lids. What pictures did a girl look at during her first fuck? What did she see, in her own private darkness? She was biting her upper lip so hard that it was whiter than her teeth, and he moaned as something wild took place in that virgin cunt.
There was a flurry of muscle, a warm rush of juice which he could feel, flooding around his cock. If she hadn't assured him, time after time, that she had never had a maidenhead, he would have sworn it was her blood. But that quick, kissing flutter! It was too much, it was like the best and wildest suck he had ever gotten.
There was a flush of hot blood all through his body as he let more of his weight fall on his rigid prick. He tried to shove it all in, and it wouldn't go. The clasp of her muscles-could a kid this age have a flutter in her cunt?-shook him, and he withdrew until the big head was just inside the tender lips.
He banged down on her with all his weight, exasperated. His cock went in only a fraction of an inch more, and the girl suddenly screamed: "OH, DADDY! THAT'S IT! THAT'S WHAT I WANT! HURT ME!"
Her wild yelling made his head ache, and he felt as if his cock would break, it was so hard. And her cunt was so small. And it had hurt him to jam it into her. God damn it all! But he looked at her, saw that her face was white, and on its paleness, a small archipelago of dark freckles stood out distinctly.
"Sorry, baby," he said contritely. "I feel like a shitass. Roll on your side. Come on, damn it," he said grumpily. "I think you lied to me! I think you've got a maidenhead."
He was facing her, his cock, or at least an inch or so of it, barely inside her, and she was riding on it, back and forth, with a little smile of triumph on her face. It felt marvelous to him, a change from all that straining. Now, her sweet, hot little cunt was slipping and sliding up and down the tender head of his cock.
"I got so damned hot, there at the house," he said, feeling suddenly better. "To get a hard-on like that, and not shoot off, baby, baby! That's murder! Girls don't know what stone-ache is."
She fucked very gently, her young face serene, her clear, dark eyes on him, her love shining. "I feel too good!" she exclaimed. "OH, DADDY DICK! OHHHHHHHH!" She pumped against him with machine gun speed, her tiny cunt just lipping the startled head of his big tool. "OHHHHHH! OH WOW! OH WOW! I CAN'T STAND IIIIIITTTTTT!"
Her shriek was high and almost unintelligible, but he could feel that unbelievable tremor of young cunt muscle around the head of his prick. "Let it out, baby!" he cried happily. "Pour it out for daddy! Come on, baby! We're fucking! Get it all out!"
She flung her strong, warm young body at him as if it had been shot from a cannon. Her mouth was open, her pink tongue coiled inside as saliva dripped from her lips. She looked as wild as a caged nymph, and ten times more beautiful. He could see her big, mature breasts, almost out of proportion for such a slender body, but he knew that it was the circumstances, the fire of her big shoot-off, that had sent fresh, hot blood pounding into them.
He was so fired by the sight of her sweated young body, at the swollen young cunt lips which he could see trying to swallow his big cock, that he drew his loins back and slammed into her again.
"DADDY! DADDY! OHHHHH! BEAUTIFUL! MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, DADDY! OHHHHHH! MAKE ME CUM! OHHHHHH, FUCK ME HARD!" She screamed the hard and raunchy words of love in his face, her breath smelling more carnal, now that she was hung in the middle of a series of orgasms. He was amazed that he was holding his load, and then realized that he was so interested in his stepdaughter's first-fuck reactions that he had almost forgotten his own needs.
Almost, but not quite. He was suddenly washed with an intensity of desire, a hot pressure in his balls. The girl had closed her eyes again, and she was trembling, not as hard as her fits of lust when she came, but in spasms that jerked her soft, strong young body. She was moaning, and he realized that she had kept this keening wail going every since her last orgasm, her last fit of screaming.
"Heyyyyyy! Listen, baby, where you coming from?" he asked her, giving one of her swollen breasts a hard squeeze. He loved the feel of that soft, firm, girlish titty-meat, the fact that he could almost make his fingers and thumb meet as he dug into that tenderness. And he got results.
He should have expected it. She was so much like her mother. Connie was riper and fuller in breast and thigh and belly. Cunt, too. But he had rejoiced, in that afternoon just three short weeks ago, that daughter and mother were so alike.
As his fingers and thumb almost met in the tender, softly filled flesh of her glowing breast, there was a certain feel. And the girl's fierce scream as she flung her body at him, her total response to the total pleasure of having her titty squeezed in such loving shock, that, too, was like Connie.
He was dressing, getting ready to take his daughter sedately home, and she was watching him, smiling, her knees open so that the vermilion lips of her inner cuntal lining shone wetly. Red, now, with engorged surface veins, from all that sex. Fucking and sucking. But three weeks ago, a different sort of red.
The girl suddenly spoke. "You're thinking about three weeks ago today," she said. "And it's a happy thought."
He laughed, coming over to sit on the bed, putting his hand on the softness, the wet-haired warmth of her young pussy. "You're a mind reader. I was thinking of it. I've thought of it a lot. But how did you know?"
She used her two hands to hold his wrist, to rub his fingers up and down in her sweetly juicing split. "It's what I was thinking, daddy. I can always pick up on what you're thinking."
"I'm thinking you'd better get your pretty little butt up off that mattress," he said. "Because I'm leaving in about three minutes."
He turned back to the mirror to finish knotting his tie, and grinned at the sweet rankness of the lady-juice that he had picked up from between little Jannie's grown up cunt lips. And his mind went back again to that incredible scene in his office. Thinking of how Janice had responded when he smashed her breast. Wild! Beautiful!
He had been so nerved up from that long hour of sex play in Jan's own bed. Usually, she would have made him cum. But his sudden determination to consummate it, to really fuck her, to make her a woman, had intervened.
And here she was, on her side, gracefully using her body, riding his cock which was only partly in her. And brutalizing her young tits had made it happen.
So much like Connie! And he had often, in their loving play, given her what she called "a titty-cum," just from sucking her nipples, squeezing the big, soft pillows of mammary tissue, biting the creased hardness of their points.
He saw Jannie getting out of bed and pulling her dress on over her head. No bra. No panties. Well, he'd pocket a washcloth from the motel. She could sit on it, going home. And looking at how she handled her nymph-like body, he remembered how she had worked herself up and down, back and forth on his dick. Nearly killing him, she banged on it so hard. And then-incredible! He was all the way in, into a marvelous place where all the fucking delights that man can ever dream of were taking place.
True, it was still very, very tight. But that terrible constriction was gone. It felt very warm, very slick and oily, inside his daughter's vagina. And there was more moisture. It was running out of her and down his thigh. And it all centered in his mind and his cock and in the nerves that triggered his cumming.
"OH, GOD, BABY!" he had screamed. As bad as my little baby doll, he said to himself, grinning inwardly. Plumb out of my nut. Well, a girl deserves a little noise when a guy cops her cherry. It gave him a rush of warmth, remembering. Only maidenhead I ever got.
What a day that had been! How little Jannie had laughed and cried, holding herself against him, both drenched in sweat and jism and pussy juice and virgin blood. Virgin blood! Unbelievable!
She got into the car when he pulled up outside the side entrance to the old motel, half hidden from the road by weeping willows and ancient pepper trees. Impulsively, with one warm little hand on his hard thigh, she leaned against him, her voluptuous breasts straining at the light fabric of her dress. "It's been such a lovely day, daddy," she whispered, and turned away to hide the fact that tears were coursing down her cheeks. Such a day might never come again.
Chapter Nine
There was little or no argument about who would go and trap little Janice. "This is lovely stuff," the raw boned Tenison kid said, working one big finger cruelly into Connie's nervously tender cunt. Making her bite her lip to keep from screaming, making her turn away so these oafs couldn't have the pleasure of seeing the fear in her eyes. "Lovely. But I've had enough. I want Janice!"
Connie knew one thing for sure, knew it with a hard pang of personal fear and deep regret. They would do whatever they wanted with her, and with poor Jannie. They were right, no woman in her right mind would go through the degrading torture of a rape complaint against these football heroes. She had already had samples of how they could so skillfully dissemble, how they could turn on the charm, the wide-eyed innocence of phony boyhood. Boyhood! These creatures had never been little boys. They had been born old, steeped in the blackness of sexual inhumanity from birth. But she would not give in.
I can take it, she thought. I'm more than halfway through with life, anyhow. But Jannie! Oh, God! Help us both!
"Yeah, man! Go pick up little angel-puss. She likes you, man! Shit!" and the bulky Priest boy laughed. "You could probably fuck her without anybody holding her down! And I'll keep big mama busy while you're away!" He laughed again, sinking his hard thumb, his powerful fingers into the softness of Connie's thighs, a painful grip that made her convulse with pain. "Wow!" he said. "She sure is tender, ain't she? Bet she'll scream when you sock it in her asshole! Hurry back, Tenison. Maybe we'll make little Jannie suck her off a couple of times. Wow!" And he pinched Connie again, so that Harry had to grab his arm.
"You goddamned idiot!" he snarled. "I told you, don't leave any marks on her. That way, she could maybe make a charge of rape stick. Listen," and he gazed solemnly at first Roy, then Sammy, "I don't want to find her marked up, hear? Fuck her all you want. Suck her pussy until she shoots clear up the wall. But don't mark her up!"
In a most mannerly way, once he had walked up on the Haires' front porch, Harry rang the door chimes and stepped back, his face showing a sober concern. When no one answered, he cursed, went out and started his car, and drove down to the shopping center three blocks away. There was a pay telephone stall there, and he dialed a number.
When he heard a familiar voice, he said: "The kid's not home yet. And it's after four. Ask her old lady how come?"
He heard the mumble of voices, and Connie's voice, saying clearly: "Fuck you, you stupid sonofabitch!"
There was the sound of a slap and he let out a howl as Roy came back to the phone: "She's right. You ARE a stupid sonofabitch! Why'd you hit her?"
"I slapped her on her ass," the Willard boy said. "Priest is banging her dog fashion. It won't show. Anyhow, stay where you can see what happens. The kid's got to come home."
Willard was right. A few minutes after Harry had parked where he could watch both streets along which Jan might appear, he saw her. But his heart sank. She was with her dad. And Harry didn't kid himself. Everyone in town knew Dick Haire's war record, knew he was one tough sonofabitch. But he stayed where he watched, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Janice get out of the car, saw her dad drive away.
He waited a couple more minutes, then went and rang the door bell. When the bright faced child opened the door and said: "Oh, hi, Harry! How nice to see you! Come in!" It almost turned him away from what he had started to do. It was so evident that she liked him. And maybe it was true, what old Sammy had said, maybe he could screw her just because she liked him.
But he thought of the contempt he would have to take from his peers, not just Sammy and Roy, but all the others who shared the so-called club house.
He made his face look worried, pitched his voice to sound the same way. "I'm sorry to bring you bad news, Jan," he said. "But I didn't know what else to do. Your mom's, well, she's hurt. Not bad!" he cried, as Janice's face went white and she grabbed at a chair to keep from falling. "A twisted ankle. And I couldn't carry her by myself. She said to get you. Can you make it?" And then, so falsely that even he felt a twinge of guilt, "is your dad home? He can help."
It was like a dream, the way she ran to his car, and he licked his thick lips, following her, watching the play of her softly muscled young butt as she moved ahead of him.
They were downtown in a few minutes, across the highway, into the rather dismal industrial section where fine old homes huddled under the shower of soot from factories.
"A few of us guys have a little place we use for a club," he said diffidently, as he parked in front of the big old garage. "Your mom said maybe she and your dad would donate an old couch, or something, so I let her in." They were out, and the girl was hurrying toward the door, with Harry, grinning his shit-eating grin, again watching the beautiful rhythms of her jiggling ass. "So she sort of stumbled before I could get the light on."
The door opened, and Roy Willard stood there bowing sardonically, bare-ass naked, cock, balls, and all. And as Jannie turned to flee, the shock in her young face making it so blank that she was like a store-window mannequin, Roy leaned and caught the back of her dress, jerking her into the darkness of the old place.
To make certain she would understand why she was there, he threw a heavy arm around her neck, putting his hand under her short dress to rub roughly at her cunt. And poor Connie, her own eyes somewhat glazed with shock and fear, saw the tender vee of Janice's young pussy, the hair on it so sparse that the division of her fat outer lips showed plainly.
"There she is, boys," Harry laughed, waving his arm at Janice, who was immobile in Roy Willard's hard grasp, her young body obscenely on view as her knees bent and her belly and cunt stuck out. "And don't forget-I get first crack at her!"
The horrible anger in Connie Haire made her weak, but then, as Sammy Priest turned up some hard overhead lights, and as Harry said: "She came home with her dad, who very kindly took himself off after his little darlin' was safe at home!" Connie leaned back on her heels, her rump not even feeling the contact. Running down the child's inner thigh, there was the unmistakable slickness of cunt juice or jism. Or both.
The child's failure to look her in the eye-even in such a dreadful spot, she should look to her mother-and the news of her having been with her father was like a knife turned in Connie's heart.
Every mother knows what it's like to live with a love/hate relationship with a kid. But none ever feels such a traumatic burn from ambivalence as the mother whose daughter has taken her place in daddy's bed. Connie said spitefully: "Why don't you let her go, Roy? I imagine you'll find her a better lay than I am. I know that someone else thinks so."
She steeled her heart against the hopeless look of woe in her daughter's face, and said sharply: "Don't be a ninny, darling. If these big, strong heroes want to rape you, just remember what Confucius said: 'If Rape inevitable, lean back and enjoy it.' Baby, I can guarantee you, it's inevitable with these horny bastards!"
She had a strange warfare going on in her emotions. In her heart, she knew that Jannie had just come from a rendezvous with Dick. Knew that her husband's big cock had churned in that sweet little cunt less than a half hour before, had made the child scream in the raging emotion of hard orgasm. If she's anything like me, she'd scream, and the thought made a desolation in her bosom, and ache of love, fear, and venomous spite, enough to kill her.
"But mama!" the child wailed, "They told me you were hurt. Oh, Harry," and she turned to the big-featured boy who was eyeing her uncovered young pussy with avid interest, "why did you do this to me? To my mother?"
She hardly noticed as the big Willard boy lifted her dress over her head, leaving her oddly mature girl-body naked. Indeed, she obediently raised her arms at his command, and the pull of the dress as he jerked it off over her head made her full, deep breasts bounce and sway.
She was far from terrified. Like her mother, she had an innate and femininely optimistic intuition that she could control these guys. Her heart was beating faster, and she knew a deep down fear, but she was not panicked. Three guys, three cocks, all of them hard or nearly so. She felt a familiar, crawling itch in her little cunt, already so well used this afternoon.
She heard Harry say, in a mocking tone: "I fucked your mother a couple of times this afternoon, and I just thought, maybe her little daughter's better than she is. Anyhow, it's been over a month since we got a cherry around here." He reached for her and she, no longer in Roy's grip, did not back away. Instead, she stood with a strange smile on her face, and her eyes went to her mother.
All she said was: "Please don't hurt me, Harry. I've always thought of you as the nicest boy I know. Making the other guys let me go, that time at Mary's."
Sammy Priest, now on the pile of mats holding Connie by one breast, hooted. "See, Tenison? She and her old lady don't understand subtlety. Listen, get out the cameras. I've got an idea."
He threw Connie on her back. He pried her lovely legs apart.
"Wow!" he said, rubbing his fingers in the thoroughly cum-basted lips of the older woman's split. "That looks good enough to eat! How about it, Jannie baby? How about eating your mama's pussy? And she can eat yours. A family pie-eating contest!"
A deep anger suddenly burned in the mother. A pure flame of hatred for bullies who, by brutality and strength, could force any female to do what they wanted. And there was another feeling, too. She could not deny it to herself. She could not control its tiny tongues of heat which licked at something deeply buried inside her. Something as old as woman, as old as her concepts of sexuality. Like a cave woman-or rather, cave women-left too long at home while their men pursued the woolly mammoth for food, her body had a tribal knowledge, a pruriently hidden hunger, of and for the slick delights of woman flesh. Cunt flesh.
Her body became taut even as her stomach writhed in anger. That small, slippery, pink lipped cunt! With Dick's juice in it. With Janice's clear, sweet cum juice in it!
She saw the look of blind shock on the young girl's face as Harry brutally shoved her on to the enormous bed made by the pile of mats. And instinctively, hatred forgotten in their common need, their common danger, she held out her arms to break Jan's fall.
"Mama!" the nubile child whimpered, as their soft bodies fell together. "Mama! What are these pigs doing to you?" She began to wail hysterically, and Connie shook her hard.
"Lay off," she hissed in pretended anger. "Whatever they say we do, we have to do! Quit being a goddamned mama's girl. Anyhow," and she allowed her hidden hurt this one scorpion sting, "you're more daddy's girl, aren't you?"
She felt a bruising foot against the small of her back.
"Quit fucking around," Roy said. "Let's have a little action. I need a circus to get it up again." And, like a ringmaster, he cried: "Come ovah! Come ovah! Man-eating woman becomes girl-eater! See the cunt-lickers licking cunt! Wow!" and he held his sides in raunchy laughter. "Who's gonna be on top? Mommy? Or little baby girl?"
Connie held Jan's head close to her, whispering: "Do what they say, baby! We'll get out of here, somehow. Don't mind what I said. I love you! Can you stand it? Just make a show of, uh, licking me."
The child's body seemed warmer, somehow. Like most other kids of her generation, she knew a great deal about sex, even before she had done anything more than think about, or fingered herself into the flaming pleasure and guilt of self-induced orgasm. She knew what oral sex meant, boy-girl, boy-boy, girl-girl. And she had never felt disgusted, never thought it was wrong or rotten. Simply afraid to try. And she had a minor instant of triumph. I can try it and not be blamed. They're forcing me. They'll hurt me, and they'll hurt my mama if I don't do it.
Lying as she was, her belly against Connie's, she was aware of a trembling in her loins, a strange, glowing itch in her tender little pussy. Just like when I hold daddy's prick, she thought. And a wildness burst in her mind, as if to give her a sense of escape from this shameful, desperately frightening reality-a bright concept of sex as a family thing, a gift to share, a greatness far above and beyond the stodgy, prudish, old line moral concepts that makes sex seem horrid and dismal and sickening. Instead of warm and bright and beautiful. It made her press herself harder against her mother, made her hand go instinctively to Connie's hotly swollen pussy, made her hungry mouth nestle down to Connie's throbbing breast.
"Oh, my little baby!" Connie groaned, moving her fine body, unconsciously lifting her breast as she had, twelve years ago, pushing the hard, engorged nipple at the child's nibbling lips.
"God damn!" Sammy Priest's voice was aching with fuck strain. "They're going to do it! Suck away, baby!" He slapped a big, hard hand down on Jan's sweetly divided young rump, making her jump. "Jesus, Roy! Will you and Tenison get a load of that? Like a couple of schoolgirl sweethearts! Sonofabitch! I wish Mamie was here! Remember how she squawked when we made her suck the cum out of Mary's twat?"
He got above the two women, one over forty, the other not yet thirteen, but beautifully female, and tried to squeeze a few drops of piss out on them. In vain. He was getting a hard-on.
He looked up at Harry and Roy, who were also on the pile of mats, their eyes narrowed, breathing harder. He put his hand between Connie and her daughter.
"Cut out the touting, honey," he said, his grinning face an inch or two from Jan's. "Turn around, baby! Eat mama's pussy! Get on top! There, that's the way! Hey, you guys. Pull the old lady's ass up so baby doll can get into it."
There was too much heat, too much sex tension in all of them, the three males, the two females, for any of them to comment on the ease with which they arrived at what the boys wanted.
As her face was pulled away from her mother's, Janice had whispered: "I love you, too, mom!" And she had a bright picture throbbing in her mind as she found herself pushed and shoved into what she knew was the classic sixty-nine position. But I don't really know what to do, she thought.
Nevertheless, there was a surging thrust of sexuality in her young body as her face was pushed down into the slick, warm, hairy folds of her mother's split. And an increase of that heat at the arousing aroma and savor as she involuntarily opened her mouth and tentatively put out her tongue to swab nervously in that oozing valley of trembling flesh.
She had always had a shy but secretly aggressive love for her own body and its secrets-her small fingers had rubbed in her pink pussy in love and excitement as long as she could remember, and she knew its gut-tingling and zesty smells and flavors well.
As her nose and mouth rubbed in the cum-slicked, fuck-heated cluster of soaked inner labia, she let herself go in a fury of uninhibited woman-lust, sucking and smacking and kissing and caressing, with tongue and lips, all of that rosy spread of mama-cunt.
And she was no longer aware of the horrid, demeaning people who had forced this on her and her mother. She didn't hear their cries of lust, their goatishly humorous encouragement.
"Eat her up, Jannie!" Roy Willard said hoarsely, his big cock hard and trembling as he got his face right down between Connie's thighs, watching the fury with which the girl was sucking her mom. "Man, it's beautiful! Watch her go!" He gave the girl's dark head a hard shove against the writhing cuntal surfaces between the older woman's spread thighs. "God damn! I wish I had my cock in there! She could lick her mama and my prick at the same time!"
He raised on his knees, licking his lips, his big face flushed with racing blood. Tenison and Priest were crouched with their faces almost in the split rump of the girl as she unconsciously lowered her screamingly orgasming cunt to her mother's mouth and lips.
And Connie, swept up in this rankly beautiful scene, gripped by cunt lust as much as her daughter was, closed her eager lips on her baby girl's womanly twat, her heart bursting with a wild love untinged by past hatred, sucked on Jannie's little cunt hole until she felt the vagina's walls come together. She also felt the child's body go rigid with the powerful wave of orgasm, and knew that she, too, was ready to burst in liquid fire in her lust-fired cunt.
She was screaming and licking: "OHHHHHH OHHHHHH MY BABY. OHHHH, YOU'RE SO GOOOODDD!" And then, after sucking and slurping mouthful after mouthful of the warm, slick, clear juice, after another powerful burst of orgasmic beauty deep up her own cunt, she crammed her mouth against the barely haired asshole above her, screaming: "OH, BABY DOLL! OH, MY BABY! SUCK MAMA AGAIN! OHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHH! IT'S TOOOOOO MUUUUUCCCHHHHH! Oh, GOD! TOO MUCH! OH, JANNIE DARLING! OH, BABY!" Another hard cum as she felt her pussy seem to turn inside out under Jannie's bold young mouth, and she uttered one final cry: "OHHHH! EAT ME! OH, JANNIE! AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!"
She was shivering with lust, with the exhausting process of draining herself in love's sweet service, and sweat was pouring off her body, just as it was pouring along the spread thighs of her daughter. I never realized she was this grown up, Connie's mind said, seeing the writhing inner lips, seeing how fat and adult the outer lips were, even if they had little or no hair this far down. She had forgotten that others were watching, and she jumped in fear as a rough hand slashed between her legs, jabbing into the tenderness of her spent cunt, and she heard Jannie cry out in pain and fright.
The child was pulled off her mother, her eyes still glazed with lust, her face a shining smear of Connie's clear vaginal juices.
She was wiping the back of one soft hand on her mouth, trying to grin in a placating, pleading way, when Harry Tenison spread eagled her on the bed, his big cock hard as bone, and kneed his way between her lovely young thighs. She was panting, feeling a golden glow of love and warmth inside, dazed with the feeling that she and her mother were once again in complete harmony, that she was loved, that sex was a family affair. And then all of that horrible reality was back, and she could see that dirty, cowardly Roy Willard rolling her mother over, thrusting his heavy organ in between her mama's lovely, rounded asscheeks. Trying to butt-fuck her? Trying to get it into her right little place from the rear?
And then she was suddenly fucking, and being fucked, and although she hated this big boy for raping her, her aroused pussy could not resist the hot and lovely stretch of the impersonal cock, the hard, slick friction, the beating of hard meat against her inner being, her cervix, her womb, the end of her fuck sheath.
She heard her mother scream, but Harry had captured her mouth, and his long tongue was going into her. Just like daddy's. Not as sweet, not as welcome, but just as hot-making. Even the thought of her mother being raped alongside her, even the thought that there was a third boy here, who also had a hard-on, and who also expected to work it off in her warm little body, only added to her fire.
She was in another world, a world where her pussy was being delightfully pounded by a rapist. The very thought made her hotter. She fucked as hard against Harry as she ever had against her father. She was cumming again, a big, long echo of the orgasm she had just enjoyed as her mother sucked her out. And as I sucked mama, she thought. One heat builds another. If I didn't love mama, I couldn't have cum. If I didn't love daddy, I couldn't cum with him, either.
Her tight, squeaky young pussy, its slick muscles wrapped so thoroughly around this strange dick, made a liar out of her. She did not love this boy who was raping her. But her pussy, her ovaries, the nerves in her vagina and in her red inner lips, and all that myriad of nerves in her clit, they were unaffected by her likes and dislikes. They liked what was happening. They liked the sloppy rasp, the burning plunge as the boy's cock lanced into her.
"AAAIIIIIIEEEEE!!" she screamed, humping against the belly above her, blindly answering a demand laid on her by her own nerves and hotly craving flesh and the thundering tom-tom of her heartbeats. "OH FUCKY-FUCKY-FUCKY-FUCK! OH COCK, FUCK, CUNT, COCK, FUCK! OH FUCK ME, BABY! FUCK ME, BABY! OH MAMA! OH MAMA! HE'S FUCKING ME! FUCK HIM, MAMA! FUCK US ALLLLLL! OHHHHHH! AAAAIIIIEEEE!"
And she continued to sob and moan as the long orgasm ran down, as Harry's slow moving, thick, sticky jism pumped out of her as he kept fucking, long after his load was gone.
He would not look her in the eye as he pushed himself, up. She wanted him to say: "I love you, Jannie! Don't be afraid, baby! It's all just a big, scary joke, you dig?" But he said nothing, only kept his face turned from her as he got up, held his dick aimlessly, and said to a grinning Sammy Priest-and why did he have those bandages on his shoulder-said to him: "Okay, Sammy baby! She's all yours. And man, is she tight! Only thing is," and Jannie stared at him, trying to stifle hysterical laughter as he scratched his head, "she sure as hell surprised me! No maidenhead."
And, as the girl rolled on her side to get away from the hateful sight of the two boys laughing at her, she had to close her eyes.
Her mother had been picked up, or braced up by Roy. Or she had gotten into this position herself. On her knees, her head on folded forearms on the mat. And Roy was slashing into her mother's lovely body with his cock, either in her pussy or in that other little hole. And her mother was screaming, too: "OH BABY! TICKLE MY CLIT! FUCK ME, ROY!" And then, after a gasping, wordless yell: "SOMEBODY! PLEASE! GRAB MY TITTIES! OH, GOD, PLEASE FUCK ME!"
It should have made her sick, but all at once there was a rush of moist heat inside her, and she was on the brink of another cum.
Chapter Ten
After she came with Roy Willard, and got up shakily, with his big load of pearly white semen oozing out of her pussy and down the inner surfaces of her thighs, Connie Haire dazedly wandered over to the big couch, or table. The boys, happy in their fun, had all the lights on, and Connie, seeing a stranger in a big wall mirror, was startled.
This was another naked woman, but her hair was matted in damp strands, her breasts were bloated as if they had been beaten, and her bush of pubic hairs was dark and slickly plastered down on her delta, shining with some sort of sticky wetness.
The woman had dark shadows under her eyes, and her mouth was slack, like some moronic chick who was soliciting any passer-by for sexual release. Her eyes were large and bright, but unseeing, as if she stared inward, seeing nothing but a prick she wanted but could not have.
As she moved toward this strange woman, pitying her, Connie raised a hand. And so did the woman. And then Connie realized, with a rush of stark and painful knowledge, who the woman was. And knew that she, like "the church lady from Ransome City," was very close to being tapped out by repeated sexing. That such a thing could happen. That a woman had to have at least a few minutes rest between fucks and sucks. Else she could go fuck-nutty, lose all sense, and never recover from it. She whimpered, glad that none of the boys were after her, not realizing that the more tempting flesh of her little daughter was whipping up their sodden appetites.
She stared dumbly at the eight by ten glossies tacked to the board above the leather upholstered table. And, as she started, she felt a flutter of deep-rooted fear. She knew these girls. She had only noted their cute, sweet, sexy-looking butts, with their fat and swollen little pussies protruding from between softly sculptured ass cheeks. But their faces were reflected in a mirror, the one above the line of pictures. God, did she know them! Kids from good families. Older women, too. And some of them looked complacent, smiling, triumphant. And others looked as beaten, as unhappy, as woebegone as herself. That young teacher, for one.
She started to whirl around as she heard a step behind her, and felt a stinging slap on the side of her head. It was young Willard again, and he had a camera in his hands, a complicated looking box with a huge lens and a strobe flash.
"Bend over," he growled. "Bend over, God damn it, before I jerk your cunt hairs out!" And then as Connie, physical pain and mental despair, leaned on the leather couch, he said: "Now, see how easy that is? Try to shove out that cunt a little bit more! Ah, lovely! This'll be a marvelous addition to our little gallery!"
She dropped her face into her hands, trembling in helplessness and anger, and he said: "Let's get a nice crotch shot, now, old lady! Get up on that table. Move, damn it!"
Helpless to avoid whatever the snarling young bully wanted, Connie let him put his big hands into her armpits and help her up to the surface of the table, or couch.
Without protest, she let him arrange her legs, feet up, too, with her heels just against her softly structured buttocks, her big, smooth thighs, now marked with drying jism, spread apart.
As he arranged her, one of her big, warm breasts brushed his face, and he took a painful nip at the hard, grainy tip of the tit.
"If old Tenison wasn't so scared of me marking you up, you lousy old bitch, I'd bite my initials in both your tits! You can't piss in my face and get away with it."
She braced her hands behind her, and felt an object she had seen a minute or two before, and had recognized. It was an iron dumbbell, probably ten pounds in weight. She gave it little thought just then, and waited in her tortured position as the boy stepped back to focus the camera.
Over his shoulder, she saw big Harry Tenison with Janice in his arms, but he was holding her from behind, his big forearms and hands locked under the child's tender breasts. In his strength, he was lifting her off the ground, so that she was helpless, her lovely legs waving like the frantic efforts of a beetle turned on its back. Worse, the jeering Sammy Priest was pulling the young girl's legs apart, trying to get his big, stiff cock into her as Harry held her in the air.
"Hold her steady, Tenison," the big fellow grunted. "AHHHH! BABY! That's it!" He lunged forward, his tool going only part way in, and little Jannie cried: "NO! NO! OH, HARRY, DON'T LET HIM! OHHHHH!"
And then Connie saw, with a heart full of disgust and misery, that the child's body had taken over, and that, no matter how Jannie felt, her cunt was rippling its young, slithery inner muscles around the despised cock, fucking back as well as she could, while her two tormentors enjoyed her plight, her helplessness, her response.
The strobe flash went off just as Connie tried to hide her eyes, and Roy, looking over his shoulder and laughing, turned back to her, his mingled anger and sexuality in his face.
"You fucked up my picture, bitch," he said in a mock-angry tone. "I ought to ram this flash up your twat, but I'll get another picture, first. Man, this is creative time!"
He turned back to the trio near the pile of mats, and said: "Hey, I've got a great idea." He turned back to Connie. "Take a break, model," he said. "Go to the can if you want to. But remember, old lady, no use trying to lock yourself in. This bathroom door works only from outside. Get it? Nice touch, makes it more fun when the chickies try to hide from us." His laugh was sick, and Connie, her legs aching from the strained position, let her feet hang down.
She was so beaten, so filled with anguish and fear of what could happen, that she let her head sink on her chest. If she heard the "idea" that Roy advanced, she didn't register it.
But she heard a scream of protest from Janice, and she jerked her gaze up to a sight that froze her.
Sammy Priest had moved, taken his cock out of the tight little pussy, and was in front of Janice. The girl was being made to bend over, and she was holding on to Sammy's organ, her mouth open. And Harry, his hard face working in passion and a sort of rotten glee, was squeezing something out of a tube on to the broad head of his big cock, something that gleamed in viscous wetness.
"Suck that cock, angel," Sam said. "Old Willard wants a nice picture of you to hang up in the school locker room. Ought to get you a lot of dates. Suck, damn you! Suck me like you did your old lady!" He looked across the young girl's bent back, winking at Roy.
At once, Harry got his hands around the girl's thighs and began jamming his hard cock into the sensitive crack of Janice's ass.
"That's it, man!" young Willard exclaimed. "Get it in her ass, about halfway in. And listen, Priest, be sure her face is toward me, see? I can't watch the details, man! Old artistic Willard has to watch the composition."
In her efforts to recoil, Connie turned away, and once more, her hand touched the big iron dumbbell.
She heard Jannie scream again, and heard the scream turn into a choked gurgle. Looking up, she saw that Harry had gotten into the young girl's rectum, and that the brutal Priest boy had jammed his cock into her throat. The faces of all the boys were twisted in grins of mean delight, and Connie could see tears running down her daughter's cheeks as the child sagged against the big organ stuck into her tight little asshole.
Some animal combination of fear and rage seemed to yeast up in Connie's throat. She slid silently down from the table, dragging the heavy iron exercising piece with her right hand.
There were three of them, but she knew what she meant to do. Roy had backed toward her, his eye glued to the camera's view finder. He had bent his legs to get the scene right, and his big balls were hanging between his legs.
With her left hand, Connie grabbed them, squeezed down with all her strength, and twisted them as if she were trying to pull them off his body.
The pain was so terrible that Roy could neither move nor scream, at least for the moment, and, as he dropped writhing to the deck, the woman swung the iron dumbbell with all her might and threw it at Tenison. She remembered a butchy old Phys Ed teacher in college who had often cursed at her classes when they weren't putting the effort into their work that the teacher expected.
"Get your ass into it, sweetie!" the hoarse-voiced woman would shout. "Gimme some muscle! Get your ass into it!" And Connie tried to do just that as she hurled the oddly shaped chunk of iron at Harry's face.
Alas for good intentions. The dumbbell was too heavy. But it still got far enough to do its job.
Instead of hitting the boy in the face, it struck his foot. And, just as she released the ungainly missile, Connie shouted: "Bite his cock off, baby! Bite him hard!"
Her meaning and the dumbbell got to where they would do the most good at exactly the same time. The big piece of iron lit on Harry's left instep, and little Jannie, bursting with feminine outrage at her degradation, chewed down on Sammy Priest's hard cock with all her might. At the same time, miraculously, the heavy pain, the deep, hard agony of having a big cock stuck in her ass for the first time, ceased. Harry had lost all interest.
He felt the murderous pain shoot up his leg just as he felt something crunch and give way in his arch. The terrible agony of it blinded him, and then his mind cleared and he saw the dumbbell, saw the naked, panting, wild-eyed woman, and knew that she was the author of his horrible pain.
He started toward her with his fingers spread like talons, but he only made one step. As the broken bones grated together in his foot, and as the tortured nerves shocked him again with blinding pain, he fell heavily, at full length, and struck the side of his head on the cement floor. And he was out of it.
Some deeply primitive surge of triumph made Connie move like a striking snake.
She had the dumbbell in her hands again as she heard Jannie cry out. Young Priest, his features twisted in rage, had the girl by her hair. But there was a flow of blood dripping down off his cock, suddenly softened by Jan's vicious bite, and his face was as white as a freckled towel.
Like a mother cougar, Connie sprang to the pile of mats, where Sam was dragging the girl, and gave him a hard crack across the side of his head. It did not knock him out, but he dropped to his knees, his eyes fixed on some vision of pain. She eyed him thoughtfully, then gave him another crack on the other side, and this dropped him to the mats.
She held Jannie for a moment, her eyes filled with tears, her hand holding the girl's head while sobs wracked the young frame.
She saw young Willard roll to his side and try to get up, and she jumped nimbly down and ran to him.
He had his hands spread and braced on the floor, and she very deliberately used the dumbbell as a hammer, crunching the boy's fingers under its weight, grinning as he screamed like a hurt child.
"God DAMN!" he cried. "What are you trying to DO? KILL ME? Damn you anyhow, you stinking old bitch!"
In reply, Connie laid the dumbbell down and swung her open hand at the big boy's face, a full-arm swing, so that her palm smacked across his eyes and nose with a report like a rifle. She swung again, and again, and the big kid, unable to protect himself, felt blood start from his nose and lips, felt his teeth move under the hard shock of blow after blow, and cried, in his pain: "Enough! Enough! Please! PLEASE, Miz Haire! Not anymore! OHHHHH! OHHHHH! PLEASE DON'T HIT ME!"
She stood up, woman triumphant. Her hair was in dirty-looking strands from sweat, from being rolled on the floor and on the mats, and there was a blue mark on one breast. Tears had made streaks down her dirty face, and her lips, like young Willard's were sore and puffy. But she had never felt better in her life. Even the black pain in her bruised rectum, where one of these louts-which one she didn't even know-had butt-fucked her, even the blacker pain in heart and mind over what they had done to Jannie, seemed lighter.
The child, so beautiful in her youthful nakedness, stood in a graceful posture over the fallen Priest boy, and, as Connie looked, she gave him a resounding kick in his exposed flanks. "I wish I'd chewed your dick off," she said furiously, and Connie, her heart leaping, cried: "Atta girl, baby! This'll teach these cruds they can't fuck around with the Haire women!"
She walked over to where Harry was beginning to stir, and deliberately stepped on his fingers. She was barefoot, but she put her full hundred-and-twenty pounds on her heel, and the sudden pain brought the big boy back to consciousness. When he was able to sit up, he eyed Connie dully, the pain in his broken foot acting as a sort of narcotic to his thinking.
She turned to little Jannie and asked: "How are fixed? Do you have to take a pee for yourself?"
When the puzzled child shook her head, smiling, Connie said: "Oh, all right. I wanted you to squat down and piss in Mister Priest's ugly face. Sure you can't wring out a drop?"
"No, mama," the girl said with some dignity. "And I don't think I should." She shuddered delicately. "These guys were only, well, doing their thing. Of course," she said hurriedly, as Connie bent a powerful look in her direction, "I think YOUR thing was beautiful. Guys oughtn't to rape women." She giggled. "The silly fools! If they only knew how many girls want it."
Connie leaned down and picked up the camera. She had seen where Roy had picked it up. There were five or six different kinds on a shelf, with various equipment.
She walked over to Roy Willard, who was leaning on his one good hand, his face gray with pain. His balls looked swollen; it would be a long time before he tried to rape any woman again. She nudged him carelessly with her foot. "Where are the other cameras?" she asked, her face stony.
When he gasped: "That's all of them. Honest, Miz Haire! Honest!" Connie laughed.
"It's not 'you dirty old bitch' any more, Roy, dear," she cooed. "How come you're so sweet and polite, all of a sudden? How come you don't want to slap me around, and piss on me anymore? Why, baby?" She swung the camera on its short carrying strap, and he dodged as it came near his nose.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled through puffed and bleeding lips. "It was lousy. What more can I say? Gimme a break, will you? I'm hurt so bad, now, that I can't play football anymore." He tried to move his fingers, and groaned. "I'm the quarterback, can you see me trying to pass a football? What do you want, blood?"
She slapped him across the nose again, as hard as she could.
"You're fucking well right, Willard," she said harshly. "Blood. And just a wee bit of piss. From you, hear."
She felt a tug at her elbow and looked around to see Janice, her heart shaped face an angry mask.
"Did this-this nerd-actually make peepee on you, mom?" the girl asked. Her voice was shaking. "Did he? Oh, the goddamn rat!"
"He damn sure did, baby," Connie answered calmly. "Several times. While you were being picked up by your hero. The three of them were raping me, trying to drive me bananas, and I pissed in his face. A real proud man like old Willard, here," and she gave him a nudge with her foot, "he couldn't stand for that! So he pissed all over me. As often as he could."
"And Sammy let him?" Jannie asked, her voice trembling.
"He loved it," Connie said shortly. "Why?"
The girl, tears streaming down her face, jumped up on the mats.
"Because I'm going to give him a belly full of it," she answered stormily.
"Hold it, sweetie," Connie said, and stepped over to the camera shelf. "There's one of those new Polaroid's here. Ah, filled with film, too. Let me get around where we can get a good shot of it." She moved the camera up and down. "I've got it," she said. And, as the girl, her young legs spread, shot a scalding yellow stream of her maidenly wee wee into Priest's face, she banged the shutter and laughed. "Now, you, Roy, my dear. You're going to get it again. And if you so much as touch my girl, I'll beat your evil brains out of your ugly head."
The big kid began to cry. Like a baby. "I can't stand it, Miz Haire," he cried. "If you killed me, I couldn't stand it."
They heard the thick voice of Harry Tenison. "Don't be a cry-baby, Willard," he said. "You thought it was a great idea to piss on her."
He groaned and spat on the floor. "We're all through, baby," he said. "We carried the pitcher to the well once too often. We had a little too much luck with our fucking."
He moved slightly, and Connie swung the camera toward him. "If you have' some idea of grabbing me, Harry baby," she said through her teeth, "think again. I'm going to smash all your cameras. Except this darling Polaroid. I'd just as soon smash this one on your teeth."
The big kid groaned. "Okay. You've got us. Do something for Priest, will you? He could bleed to death. What'd you do? Hit him in the head with that mace?" He shivered. "He's hurt."
"All right," she said. "Get him into the bathroom. Go on!" she cried. "Move it! You and Willard! Run some water on his cock and tie a band aid around it."
She got her camera, the Polaroid, ready as Willard, crawling, and Harry, inching along on his hip, got to Sammy and began examining his injured prick. They both jumped as the little camera clicked, and Connie laughed. "Poor babies," she said. "What a sweet picture of brotherly affection this will be to post on the girls' locker room wall. And for the coach to get through the mail! I don't think that Mister Whatshisname, the kind gentleman who set you jocks up in this rape trap, is going to like what happens to him, either." She set the Polaroid down and began to beat the expensive cameras on the cement floor, kicking their shattered debris away from her as the three boys, one of them barely conscious, began to move toward the bathroom.
She slammed the door on them and turned the latch. "Remember, Roy, baby," she called jeeringly, "the door only opens from the outside. I'm calling the chief of police to come get you guys out. So don't worry. He'll know you boys are real friends. One of those kids in your ass-photos is his daughter."
There was a weak cry of protest, and one of the boys hammered on the heavy door briefly. Then she heard Harry's voice, angry and commanding. "Shut up, you jerks! We're dead in this town, anyhow. Nobody in this burg would piss on us, after all this gets out."
From little Janice's sweet mouth there came a sweet ripple of laughter. "I would, Harry baby," she said. "I'd be glad to piss on you. Any old time."
The big, tough Tenison kid raised his voice one more time. "I hope this makes you feel good, Miz Haire. You've done us more harm than we did you. You'll get over it. You know you will! You really liked me, this afternoon. And Jannie liked me. Honest to God, I don't think we deserve all this. You'll get over it, and Jannie'll get over it. But we're done, all done!" There was, actually, a sob in his deep voice.
Connie spoke clearly, laughingly. "Remember what you told me, Harry baby? When I said it was very naughty of you to make me and my body available to all your pals? Remember? Tough shit, Harry! Listen, I'll put all your clothes in the trunk of that car out there. Don't bother, I'll find the keys! And tell your benefactor that he's in for the same kind of trouble you're in for. Only more. You guys are lucky. You're minors. He's not."
They heard a weak clamor of pleading voices.
"Sorry to be so tough, dolly," Connie said to Jan. "They were just doing their thing, as you say. But that's also true of murderers. They just do their thing."
Chapter Eleven
Before Connie called the police chief, she called Dick.
He was surprised to hear from her, he said, and sounded even more surprised when she told him she and Janice were together.
"Yeah, I know," Connie said drily. "I'm surprised, too. But we're okay. Just don't hurry home for dinner. Or bring home whatever you feel like eating. Bring a lot," she added, grinning at Jan. "We've been busy, and we're hungry. Hear?"
On the way home, Jan sat more toward the door than toward her mother. It touched Connie's heart.
"I know it's been tough on you, baby," she said, putting her hand on the girl's thigh. "Those young pricks sort of made me mad."
Janice giggled, but tears were in her eyes. "I've been such a fool," she said in a quiet voice. "How long have you known about me and dad?"
Connie thought. "Crazy," she said. "This is usually my big shopping day, isn't it? I had been shopping on that day. Three weeks to the day. But it's all right. I feel different about you. I don't blame you. And I don't blame Dick. He's a natural man, and what you two did was natural."
Janice made a sound like a hard sob. "You knew we were at the office?" she gasped.
"No. I saw you at home. In your room. I got back early."
Janice touched her mother's arm haltingly. "We hadn't done anything, uh, anything real, then," she said. "He was just trying to help me. To keep me from being scared."
After she had told it all, every bit of it, including Dick's decision that it was all over, the young girl sat with her head down, trembling all over, while hot, bitter tears ran down her cheeks. She made no effort to hide or restrain them, and her sad little face cut Connie like a knife.
"Baby," she said brokenly, reaching for her daughter, "I meant it when I said it wasn't wrong. Maybe I didn't mean it too much, not then. I really mean it now! Come here, baby!"
She held the girl against her after she had parked, very near to the spot where she had been with Harry, only a couple of hours before. A couple of hours? It had been a lifetime. A nightmare. But the terrible reality was over. As the mother held her daughter, she was aware, suddenly, of how much of a woman her little girl had become.
"Hey," she said, squeezing one of Jannie's big, warm breasts. "These are great! Like mother, like daughter, right? Gosh, honey, if I were a guy, I'd go for you, myself." In fun, she ran her hand down, between the child's opulently formed thighs, which opened naturally enough to let her mother's hand go right in. Right against the lightly haired young pussy. Warm and soft. And wet, too. But not from one of those guys' jism. That had been cleaned away. This was girl juice. Jannie's. Sweet, hot, clear, slick. It made Connie shudder. But it was the girl who spoke up.
"Mama," the girl said, her face crimson, "when those guys made us do-well, what we did-to each other, you know what I mean," and she hid her face in Connie's breasts, "was that-all right?"
Connie held the girl and started to speak, but her tongue was suddenly hard, and her breath came too fast. Also, she had not moved the left hand, which was in the warmth and slickness of the girlish cunt. "Uhh, of course," she said. "They made us do it. Forced us. We can't be blamed. Sure, it was all right."
The girl clung to Connie, her young loins making a definite fucking motion against her parent's hand. Connie could have sworn the child was trying to suck on her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress. "I didn't mean it that way, mama," Janice said in a whisper. "I mean, did I do it all right? Was it all right for you?" She turned her tear stained face up to Connie. Her look was radiant and full of a sort of mischievous, girl-to-girl love. "Did I do it right for you? Because," and she dropped her face again to the warm slopes of Connie's big, soft breasts, "it sure was wonderful for me! What you did, I mean."
There was a long silence in the car, and Connie heard her own breath rasping as both her breathing and her heartbeats ran wild. Her fingers were definitely inside the young girl's tender, sensitive twat, and she felt a rage of heat go through her own loins as the girl, beginning to fuck herself up on her mother's fingers, squeezed the woman's breasts as hard as she could. She was moaning, too: "OHHHH! OH, MAMA, MAMA, MAMA! I LOVE YOU SO! OHHHHH! IT'S SO WONDERFUL! OH, PLEASE, MAMA! OHHHH! DON'T STOP! OHHHHH!"
The way the child was flinging her body straight on to the fingers which delicately probed into her slick, juicy fuck tube was the most exciting thing that had happened to Connie in all of this wild day. Somehow, the girl got her head back, her mouth open and her eyes closed, and the two women were kissing, kissing, kissing, with all of their heat and all of their love in the muscular, wet thrust of their tongues.
When the child's body suddenly went limp, Connie realized that she was wet with sweat, and she held Jannie to her with all her tender strength as the child's breathing gradually came back to normal.
They drew apart and looked at each other with both faces softened by love and understanding.
"My dear," Connie whispered softly, "oh, my very, very dear! I'm so glad you asked me-what was it you asked me?" And then she laughed. "I remember, you silly. You asked me if what you did was 'all right' for me. Oh, baby! It was the all rightest thing that ever happened. And to think, we were doing it with those awful boys making us do it, looking on like dirty, fucky old hound dogs. Were you scared?"
The big-breasted child settled against the solid warmth of her mother's beautiful body. "Yes, I was," she said. "I was scared to death. I never did anything like that before. And I thought it would make you mad at me." She looked up at her mother worshipfully. Her warm breath made Connie's billowy titties, their nipples straining against her dress, feel as if they would burst with heat and love.
She said softly: "I almost wish we could just park here, get in the back seat, and make love to each other. Now that we've found we can, now that we've found how beautiful it is. But I guess we've got to get home. For now, at least."
Little Jannie moved back primly and began to straighten her dress, pulling her short skirt farther down over her firm, youthfully beautiful thighs. Her voice was soft. Does that mean there's going to be a, uh, another time?" she asked. "The way you said we had to skip it 'for now, at least.' "
Her heart warmed at Connie's slow, loving smile, and she flung her strong, warm young body on her mother. "Oh, mother," she cried, "I love you so! I love you so!"
They kissed again, and then Connie turned the car around and headed home. Janice lay with her head in her mother's warm lap. She had known that the smells of sex, the aroma of her own hot little cunt, the rankly lovely scents from her dad's big, throbbing cock were marvelously exciting. Now, with the perfume from her mother's wonderful pussy swirling around her, she knew why animals would follow the odors of a female in heat over miles of tough terrain. Just to get a closer smell. Just to get a lick or two at the marvelous, compelling cunt, so swollen with desire.
She made a nestling move with her shoulders, and her mother took one hand off the wheel to insert a soft hand into the scoop neck of Jannie's dress.
The child moved again, and used one of her hands to push one of her large, warmly responsive titties into Connie's hand. It felt so good! Better, in some ways, than a guy's hand. Mary McCarty's hand had felt like that. And Betsy Blair's.
She squirmed, remembering that party, which had started it all. Maybe she and Mary could be good friends again. Girls had to have someone to fall back on, in times when there weren't any guys around.
Chapter Twelve
Dick Haire had to face a dilemma. There was something going on that he didn't know about, and it made him restless.
For example, when he had gotten home, bringing an armload of hamburgers and fries, of ribs and crisply fried chicken, of Cokes and shakes, both Connie and little Jannie had ceremonially kissed him. Brother, had they kissed him! He had been panting after Connie's hard, tonguing kiss, and was so bemused that he let the young girl swing against his body-against his cock, if you come right down to it-while she locked her soft arms around his neck and gave him what felt like a yard of her tongue.
Shit! was everybody going crazy? Connie had to see that this was no ordinary father and daughter smooch, but hot, loverly swapping of spit that any parent would gag at.
He'd had three or four Rob Roy's before he picked up the food. The aromatic mixture of Scotch whiskey and Italian vermouth may have deadened his olfactory sense slightly. But he could almost swear he both smelled and tasted sex. On both of them. The raunchy, heady aromas of lust. Of hot pussy. But that had to be imagination. Simply had to be. Some errant memory from the wonderful afternoon with Jan.
One thing he couldn't get away from. He was getting a hard-on. A beauty. It was the most amazing thing, to him, how much more interested he was in sex, since he and Janice had gotten into their innocently intended affair.
Thank God, he could look himself in the eye. Like now, when he was brushing his teeth, in his white silk pajamas, getting ready for bed. Interested in sex! God Almighty!
"I'll bet I've screwed Connie more, and enjoyed it more, in this last three weeks," he whispered to his image in the mirror, than in any three weeks in the last ten years." He shook his head, looking at himself with some pride. "You old fudd," he addressed himself, "it must be like it says in that ad-the more you get, the more you want."
He was sober for a moment, thinking that it was literally true. A man with two lovely, delightful, responsive women to fuck just seemed to draw sexual power from it. Especially since one of them was thirteen-almost thirteen, anyway-and the other, older, riper, sweeter, somehow, was the perfect "other woman."
His potential hard-on throbbed, and he rubbed it tenderly through the silk.
"Steady, old friend," he admonished his prick. "You're going to get something just as lovely as you did this afternoon."
The bedroom was dark when he opened the door, and that was sort of odd. Connie hadn't seemed all that sleepy. He had never seen her more bright eyed, or more full of whatever hot women get full of when they're ripe and ready for an evening of sex.
"Where'd everybody go?" he asked, starting toward the bed.
"Oh, come on to bed, dear," Connie's familiar voice said softly. "I just thought it might be a little surprise to fuck in the dark."
He thumbed down his pajama bottoms, letting his hardening cock fly up, and moved to the bed. "Can you see that, baby?" he asked. "Old Reliable, ready for duty!"
A soft, warm hand came out from under the covers to hold his organ, jacking its thick, soft skin back and forth tenderly. The covers were held up, and he got a flash of a gorgeous body, just as he eased himself in alongside it.
Someone smooth and hot and ready turned to him, and he found himself kissing a willing, ready female, her tongue going sweetly into his mouth. Soft breasts pressed against him, and he moaned happily: "MMMMMM! MMMMMM!" as he fucked gently against the strong, sweet body, which hammered against his loins.
He disengaged his mouth and said: "Sweetheart, you're so marvelous! So hot, so willing!"
Connie's voice said: "Thanks ever so much, darling. I love you, too!" Connie's voice. But not in his ear.
His hair almost stood on end as he reached for the light by his bed. When it came on, full and strong, he saw that it was Janice, holding his cock, a string of clear spit running down her chin and threading its liquid way down her breasts. She still held his cock, and was still pumping her hand up and down on it. "Mom said it was going to be a surprise, daddy," she said, but her young voice was broken, and there were tears in her eyes.
They both fell on him, then, both the women, the mother and the daughter. Connie rubbed her breasts over his face, stroking in his crotch, fondling his balls. Kissing him breathlessly, laughing, giving him her tongue. She got her legs around one of his, and he felt the warm slickness of her cuntal juices as the big, hairy lips divided under pressure, letting the slick, tender labia rub on his thigh.
"OOOOOHHHH! OH, DICKIE!" she moaned, humping herself up and down. "OHHHHH! HOW GOOOODDDD! OHHHHHH!"
He felt warm breath around his crotch, and something very wet and hot and moving closed on his balls. He saw a lightly haired little cunt just about at a level with his armpit. Jannie! Sucking his balls. He hugged Connie to him, rubbing her big, softly firm breasts against him.
"Somebody's gonna get fucked," he said hoarsely. "What in hell got into you two?" A thought swept his mind, leaving him feeling desperately vulnerable. "Did you-Connie, did Jannie, uh, wait!" And he twisted his body as Jan got her mouth around his cock. "What the hell is this, anyhow?"
"This is me, baby," Connie answered, her eyes filled with tears. "Your wife, remember? And this," putting her hand in the sweet and humid crack of little Jannie's ass, "is my daughter. And your loving little doll! And baby," she said, taking a couple of seconds to kiss him thoroughly, "we just wanted to surprise you. With love!"
Some saving grace freed him from the chaos in his mind. He held the young girl's firm body, craning his neck to kiss her on both sides of her lovely young butt. No need to ask any more questions, at least not now. Later, of course. What lovely times they would have, all talking at once, all happy, all fuck-ready and tingling.
"I can fuck both of you at once," he said stoutly, jamming a thumb into Jannie's bubbling little fuck hole. It was so pink, so warm and slick! "Get a pussy stretched over my cock. Get another one spread over my face! WOWEEEEE! Quit sucking me, baby! Let's fuck!"
He pulled the young girl's body back, got her thighs on either side of his face, reached up and got a mouthful of tender cunt lip.
"OH, DADDDEEEE!" the young girl cried. "Mama, the bad man's trying to eat my pussy! OHHHHH! WHOOOOEEEE! DADDY, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUUUUMMMMM!"
Her young ass, the sweetly divided cunt with its pinkly dripping hole against his mouth, wriggled in ecstasy, pressed hard on his lips. The sweetness, the strongly female savors and flavors, made a streaking thrill blend through Dick's delighted body.
He felt weight, soft, smoothly delightful weight, on his thighs. And then there was the hottest, the most wonderful, the slickest and juiciest pressure on his cockhead, sliding down, squeezing his dick, and he heard Jannie groan: "OH, MAMA! HOLD ME! KISS ME!"
Through a red mist of fuck heat, as the gorgeous young ass rose momentarily from his smeared face, he saw the two of them in a mirror near the bed-mother and daughter, big breasts against bigger breasts, their mouths open and mashed together. Kissing, loving, forgiving each other, forgiving him.
He felt a surge of pride and love and lust such as he never known before, a vast electric ripple of excitement that made his cock swell, made his mouth hunger for the delicately delicious split above his face.
He thrust up as hard as he could, jamming into Connie's dark, slickened tightness, feeling the sweet jar as his hard prick struck against her womb. Such a woman!
And, as the young cunt, its thick outer lips peeled back with heat, its inner lips thick and wet and shining like the petals of some meaty, exotic flower, he sucked on it savagely, delighting in the sharply accelerated movement on his lips and tongue. Such a girl!
He hadn't thought he would cum so soon. It really didn't figure. He wasn't fucked out by this afternoon. But it should have taken the hard edge off his sexual need.
But the implications of love and understanding and clean lust in this incredible joining cock and cunt, of cunt and mouth, of tit and tit and tongue and tongue-well, it must have blown them all clear out of their minds.
As his rush of semen squirted into the clutching tightness of Connie's pussy, she jerked her mouth away from Jannie's and began to scream out her ripping orgasm: "OH, HEAVENLY DAY! OH, DICK, OH, LOVER BABY! OH, JAN! MY DEARS! OHHHHHH! I'M CUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG! CUUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG! AAA ARRRRGGGGHHHH! OH, GOD! OH, DARLING!"
There had been feverish bursts of cuntal squeezing on his tongue for the past couple of minutes, a drooling, dribbling flow of young, sweet cuntal fluids flooding his mouth, so Dick knew that little Jannie was getting off, as hard as her mom.
They all fell in a writhing heap of sated flesh, lying all together, all loving, all kissing, all feeling.
And the young girl, her cunt still working softly against her dad's tired mouth, thought: Oh, goody! He's got to fuck me next. Fair is fair. And maybe mom'll let me eat her cunt again! Joy! I'll get daddy's cum at both ends.
She reached for her mother, crying. "Oh, mom," she sobbed. "Thank you! Thank you, too, daddy! For being so good to me." Her young heart was full. All in all, it had been a great day.
