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From: Francis Dashwood  <an18615@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: Lauren Gisal Book 2 Chapter 55-57 of 59 (ff/mf/Ff/Mf/inc,cons,nc)
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Lauren Gisal Volume Two 
 
The following fiction portrays events that will be considered 
offensive to some people. Graphic scenes are described of sexual 
intercourse by teenagers, adults, with and without their consent. 
Later chapters deal with punishment. If you are offended by such 
material, or if you are considered a minor in your country, then 
delete this file. 
 
The author hereby permits the redistribution of the attached 
material on the understanding that it is not for financial gain and it 
is credited to the author, Francis Dashwood.  
 
Please do not request reposts of this material. Constructive 
criticism is welcomed. 

Chapter 55 
 
Lauren had no recollection of leaving the lounge, of being cut from  
the chair and taken to her bedroom with the ropes still tight around  
her wrists. She vaguely knew that Emma had bathed her while she  
lay on her stomach on the bed, dousing the raging heat in her  
buttocks and thighs with so many cold flannels that the bed was  
decidedly wet. Fortunately, Lauren was unable to see the blood that  
Emma squeezed out of the flannel with every trip to the bathroom.  
Lauren cried relentlessly, sobbing as Emma tried to smooth her  
buttocks, caresing them with suntan cream she had found beneath  
the sink. The stinging ebbed slowly, turning into a dull ache that  
seemed to prevent her from moving properly. Five hours after she  
left the lounge, still in agony, she cried herself to sleep for the first  
time in maybe fifteen years. 
 
She woke early, the pain still very much in evidence as she rolled  
carefully onto her side. Her back ached and she now realised that  
her anus hurt badly. Curling into a ball, she cupped her buttocks,  
testing each palm-sized area of skin for damage. She opened her  
eyes, smiling gently as Emma slept soundly opposite. Her  
recollection of the previous day was already fuzzy. She knew that  
something terrible had happened, and remembered the whip well.  
But her mind had shit out many of the details and although she  
spent the hours follwoing dawn running through the dreadful  
punishment, little came to mind. 
 
 Emma brought Lauren up to date about the show after she had  
passed out, and how ugly Maria's wound had looked, the great red  
stripes across her thighs and over her pussy. The streaks of the  
whip had even shown through the dense black pubic hair, according  
to Emma, and the conversation naturally turned to Lauren's injuries.  
With little convincing, Lauren had allowed Emma to help her roll  
onto her back. Emma pulled on her regulation shirt and sat beside  
Lauren, the little girl's face reflecting the extent of Lauren's terrible  
ordeal. With a warm flannel, Emma cleaned her again, rinsing down  
from her breasts, over her navel and over her thighs. She raised her  
eyebrows questioningly, to which Lauren acceeded to the request  
and parted her legs. Emma gasped as she saw the red marks for the  
first time in daylight. The whip seemed to have wrapped around her  
thighs, the thongs and knots digging into her flesh at precise  
intervals. Emma rinsed, parting her legs before laying the warm  
flannel over her pussy. As the pleasure seeped in, Lauren sniffed,  
fighting back the inclination to cry yet again. 
 
To the utter surprise of Lauren, Maria did indeed return their  
passports the next day, even apologising for the delay. She seemed  
changed, almost apologetic, and most certainly made no reference  
to the show they had put on for the General. Lauren remained  
convinced that the return of the documents was linked to her  
performance (and humiliation) at the hands of the General and his  
weird entourage. The whole household seemed to be in shock as  
people walked quietly around, desperate to avoid eye contact and  
cautious in their conversation. 
 
The following day Lauren wandered out of the house and  
conducted a leisurely tour of the grounds of the house, realising as  
she walked further that even though they had their passports,  
leaving the place was easier said than done. 
 
As far as she looked were hills, dense jungle, brilliant blue skies.  
The occasional screech of a macaw and the incessant din from the  
cicadas were the only sounds to be heard during the hot afternoon  
sun. She carefully sat down on the wall, watching the tiny red ants  
scurrying over the old stones, busy going nowhere. Her freedom  
was useless.  
 
Movement in the undergrowth on the far side of the road. Her heart  
leapt as she looked slightly to the side of the source of the noise,  
watching the branches move. It must be a pretty large animal to  
move the leaves like that, she thought, dropping to the ground  
quietly, preparing to run for the safety of the house. 
 
"Psst!" 
 
Lauren stared at the undergrowth, now able to discern the dark  
grey of a man's shirt. "What?" she replied, wondering whether she  
should have ignored it and made her way inside anyway. Deciding  
she still had the wall between him and herself, she stood her  
ground. 
 
"It's me, Peter." She smiled, overjoyed that there was someone  
apart from those in the house that she knew, who could possibly  
help them. Someone worldly-wise, resourceful. He broke cover and  
looked around him, up and down the dusty road before making his  
way across to sit the other side of the wall, out of sight of the  
house. "You're in trouble, or do you know that?" 
 
"We've got our passports back, and can leave when we want to."  
she replied defensively. 
 
"You got them back with sex, right?" 
 
"Maybe" hissed Lauren, looking into the jungle where he had  
appeared.  
 
"That's just the beginning. You need to leave as soon as possible.  
Don't ask for a lift, just run." 
 
"Why? They've promised to take us to the Venezuelan border and  
avoid the uprising and fighting" 
 
"Fighting stopped last week, country's almost back to normal" he  
said, waiting for it to sink in. "I saw you a week ago. I know this  
woman who runs the place. She makes films, right?" 
 
"Yeah, I haven't seen any though" 
 
"Don't, or you won't sleep" 
 
"Why?" 
 
"They involve sex, but the stars rarely live to see the finished film."  
Lauren's head whirled, blood coursing through her body. "I met a  
couple of refugees about a month ago, just by chance. They had run  
through the night, pursued by her troops. There were four initially." 
 
"But it's so far from anywhere. How did you get here?" 
 
"By truck, then walked across that hill to find you." She was  
touched by his help, and realised that he must have walked for the  
best part of the morning to find the old house. She leaned over to  
see him. 
 
"No, keep looking up, don't let them know I'm here or you really  
have had it. Your best chance is to come out together just as you  
did this afternoon. Come out of the house separately after your  
evening meal and each make your way over this wall and to the  
little opening that I came through. I'll meet you. Bring nothing or  
you'll give the game away. Once we start to run, we must keep  
moving. No stopping or God knows what'll happen." 
 
"What, tonight?" 
 
"Yeah, you can't wait any longer. Lauren, believe me, she's a  
whacko. Tell the children as late as possible. Don't give them time  
to think or give the game away, OK?" 
 
She looked out at the hills, the dense undergrowth and thought of  
the brambles, the insects, mud, snakes and other inhabitants that  
would feast on her. The house was so safe, cool, there was food,  
television, a bed. "I don't know....there's Juan and Julie as well in  
there" 
 
"Oh great, more! Don't be stupid Lauren. You have no goddamn  
choice. I can't hang around here. What time do you finish tea?" 
 
"Six thirty, maybe a bit later." 
 
"OK, tell the children at six forty-five. Have them change their  
clothes, put on socks and shoes, and tell the boys to leave first.  
Then the girls, then you, in ten minute intervals. I'll be here. If you  
don't show by eight o'clock, then I'll leave and you'll have to look  
after yourselves. Got it?" 
 
She watched him slink silently back into the undergrowth,  
disappearing from sight with a feint rustle of leaves then walked  
back to the house, striding purposefully, energised into planning  
their next few hours. She moved cautiously, his words causing her  
alarm as she looked at the house with open, wiser eyes.  
 
Jamie was slumped on the sofa, watching Spanish trash on the  
television. She sat on the floor in front of him, relating the plan and  
showing with her stern expression that she was both deadly serious  
and back in command. Without waiting for an answer, she rose and  
went to find Emma. She checked the kitchen, thinking that Emma  
might have offered to help with the preparation of their meal, but  
the kitchen was empty although some salad seemed to be ready,  
and she could smell the familiar spicy beef that simmered quietly on  
the stove. 
 
She wandered into their own room, and heard Emma humming  
from the bathroom. Gently, she pushing the door open and peered  
round the corner. Emma lay against the end of the bath, eyes  
closed, trailing her hands in the water, dreaming of something that  
clearly amused her. Respecting her privacy, Lauren retreated back  
into the bedroom, shut the door nosily and shouted out for her. 
 
"In here. Won't be a minute." 
 
"Hurry up!" she said, looking around at the clothes on offer. Army  
shirts, a couple of pair of knickers and the old T-shirts and jeans  
that had worn on their arrival. She heard the bath water draining  
away and the door squeak open. Emma stood naked except for a  
towel around her shoulders, framed in the doorway. 
 
"What's up?" she asked, smiling. 
 
"Come on, you need to get dressed." 
 
Emma slipped over to the bed, sitting with one foot pressed against  
the opposite thigh. Her little girl pussy, tight, spotless, gleamed  
between her tanned legs while her breasts poked out behind the  
towel. "Why, what's happening?" 
 
"Emma, we have to leave. But secretly." she confided, dropping the  
clothes she had collected at the foot of the bed. "Tonight, after  
we've eaten. I've already told Jamie."  
 
Emma looked down into her naked lap, a look of pain on her face.  
"Lori?" 
 
"What?" she asked, quietly, touching her knee in this time of crisis. 
 
"Do you still like me?" 
 
"Emma! Of course! What makes you say that?" 
 
Emma shrugged, her lower lip trembling in preparation for the tears  
that seemed certain to follow. Lauren drank in the sight of her  
body, the freshness and purity of her skin so delectable that her  
heart raced. She squeezed her leg. 
 
"Since we've been here, you've just ignored me, you know!" 
 
"Oh Emma! Times here have been very difficult, sweety." she said,  
feeling equally miserable that Emma should even have to mention  
the topic. 
 
"But, you could just curl up in bed with me." A tear that had be  
welling up fell on to her leg. 
 
"Hey." said Lauren, wiping the tear away from her pussy. "When  
we get home, we'll stay together, I promise" Emma was silent.  
Sensing her mistrust, Lauren leaned towards her and kissed her  
gently on the forehead. Emma held Lauren's arm, encouraging her.  
The sobbing ebbed as Lauren kissed her ear, causing Emma to  
chuckle. Pleased with the progress, and sure that this was going to  
be needed to get Emma's full cooperation, Lauren pushed her  
gently over onto her side. She pecked at her shoulders, feeling the  
girl's heart pounding through her chest, sliding slowly down to take  
each glorious nipples between her lips. Conscious that she had to be  
quick, she slithered over her navel, licking as Emma's legs parted,  
down over her stomach towards her young sex. 
 
Moving now between her legs, Lauren slipped her hands under the  
teenager's buttocks, pulling her up towards her mouth. Breathing  
over her pussy, she probed quickly with her tongue, teasing open  
the labia, rewarded with the taste and silkiness of her vagina. Open- 
mouthed, Lauren kissed her pussy hard, driving her tongue as deep  
as she could inside the girl, straining to delve as far as she could  
inside the lovely heat of her body. Lauren withdrew, pecking at her  
lips, flicking the folds that still covered her clitoris. Slowly, she  
lowered the girl back onto the bed and slipped up to rest with her.  
Lauren slid her arm around Emma's shoulders and pulled her tight. 
 
She had forgotten the illicit taste of Emma, the purity of her body  
and the responsiveness that had shocked her that first night. The  
tight, perfect skin and the way she moved, so baby-like, fresh,  
exploratory and innocent in a way that was so endearing it made  
Lauren want to scream with delight. 
 
"I promise, Emma. I think you're wonderful." 
 
Emma breathed in loudly. "Lori, that's all I needed. Just, you know,  
a hug, a little kiss." Lauren looked at the ceiling, unable to think of  
any response that would adequately answer her. She hugged her  
tight, slipping her arm around her waist and lay with her, re-  
organizing her thoughts, her priorities. 
 
She dressed Emma, watching her young pouting sex six inches from  
her eyes as she helped her on with her knickers, pulling them up  
slowly and carefully as the fine blonde hairs disappeared from sight.  
The material tightly hugged her buttocks and the elastic pinged  
noisily as Lauren let go, stepping back to help her on with her T- 
Shirt. They spent five minutes collecting necessities for the journey.  
A trip with only a beginning, no known destination or duration, not  
even a known outcome, just escape from a potential nightmare that  
Lauren was reluctant to share with Emma in any great detail. But  
Lauren was relieved that the children had accepted her authority  
once again. 
 
During their evening meal, Maria stuck her head into the kitchen so  
say she was off out to finalize their move to Venezuela. Lauren  
nodded, thanking her, stating with flashing eyes that she would wait  
up for her return, just in case she needed any more information. 
 
"I'm going to get some flowers from the garden when I've finished  
tea!" announced Emma. Her theatrical tone made Lauren cringe.  
She shot a glance at Maria, reassured to see that she had taken in  
innocence. Maria nibbled at her own food, standing by the kitchen  
window, looking out at the gathering clouds and gusts of wind that  
ruffled the bushes nearby. Lauren watched her, left hand on her hip  
as she absently forked her food. Her hair hung loosely over her  
back, shining, healthy. Her bare brown legs promised so much, their  
ultimate treasure hidden by the short skirt. Lauren shifted on her  
chair, rubbing herself in her dreamworld. 
 
Maria turned, smiled radiantly at Emma, then waved good-bye.  
"Grab a bag from the drawer and go pick flowers. Slowly, there's  
no hurry, remember. Listen for traffic before you cross the wall."  
She watched as the girl rose, took the bag and left the kitchen,  
passing by the window as though off on an evening walk of the  
grounds. Lauren glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. Her heart beat  
wildly, fear rising inside her at the thought of the next few days and  
their reckless bid for freedom. She collected the dirty plates with  
shaking hands and dropped them gently into the sink. "Fridge stuff"  
she said to Jamie. 
 
He took a bottle of milk, chocolate bars, cheese and some cold  
meat. They both knew that the food would spoil in less than a day,  
but at least it would keep them going until they could find  
something else. At six fifty-five, Lauren slipped out of the room,  
following in Emma's footsteps. She felt she was walking too fast,  
making her way almost directly to the front gate. Detouring a little,  
she wandered aimlessly for a while, turning to surreptitiously look  
at each of the windows that faced the road, checking for any signs  
of life. She knew that there would be two soldiers somewhere, but  
had never really thought of timing them or working out their daily  
schedule. 
 
With a tinge of sorrow, she turned and made her way to the wall,  
plucking a flower on the way before sitting and pulling the petals  
off, one by one. She heard the rustling behind her and a whisper. 
 
"All clear!" hissed Peter's voice. Her heart beat wildly as blood  
surged to her head. Imitating soldiers she had seen on television,  
she slipped off the wall and crouched tight against it's side,  
breathing hard. Then she saw him, kneeling behind brambles. She  
looked both ways along the road, heard nothing, then scampered  
across the road, tripping as she entered the undergrowth and  
scratching her hand on the brambles. 
 
"Shit!" she hissed, staring at Peter as though blaming him for  
choosing such a dangerous place. 
 
"Take it easy." he said, catching her arm. "Keep going back there.  
It's easier going and Emma's waiting for you." She stumbled on,  
smiling weakly at Emma as she realised now that should anyone  
raise the alarm, they would be hunted down like animals. Wiping  
the cut on her jeans, she turned back to wait for Jamie. 
 
He arrived silently less than five minutes later, and joined the girls  
with Peter close behind him. 
 
"Did you leave the message for Maria?" 
 
"You did what?" asked Peter, incredulously. 
 
"Yeah. It just said that we'd gone to bed early, and we'd talk in the  
morning. Thanks for the work on getting us out." Peter nodded in  
agreement, then snaked back to the roadside to collect Juan and  
Julie.  
 
"What about Maria, did she leave?" asked Lauren. 
 
"Yeah, just before Emma arrived." replied Peter. "Now, single file,  
everyone follow me. We've got a lot of ground to cover overnight.  
Every 15 minutes we'll stop, but as it gets cooler we should try and  
keep going longer." He looked at them all, watching their  
expressions which showed little belief. "Come on, we'll make it."  
Lauren took hold of his arm, pulling him closer. He recoiled  
slightly, possibly fearing a kiss. Lauren smiled at his reaction. "We  
just want to say thanks!" she said sincerely. He nodded, grinned and  
led off into the thick forest. 
 
As they walked further, the going became easier, allowing them to  
stand up and walk normally. With frequent stops for water and tired  
feet, they covered about ten miles in the first four hours. Sticking  
away from the roads to avoid any traffic, they trudged silently  
north. 
 
Lauren found herself quietly pleased, enjoying the time to herself,  
to ruminate, let her mind wander even more than usual. Her  
thoughts returned to Maria as she desperately tried to fit her  
character to that of murderer, as suggested by Peter. In many ways,  
Maria reminded her of Emma. So sensuous at one moment, then a  
complete sea change in a matter of seconds. Both beauties, alone,  
seeking companionship. But Emma's mean side was revengeful,  
punishing, vindictive, whereas Maria seemed to do it because it was  
necessary, expected of her, an order. Either way, concluded  
Lauren, they could both be spiteful, and Maria had the backing of  
her "Uncle" to help her get her way. She smiled, realising that she  
found them both quite irresistible. 
 
As the night worn on, Lauren found herself snagging her clothing  
more frequently on bushes and the outcrops of rocks that lined their  
path. She had no idea at all how Peter was managing to steer them,  
but he seemed to keep a reasonably straight line, obstacles  
permitting, and never once faltered or seemed confused. On more  
than one occasion she wondered though if their goal of reaching  
Boquette and the safety of a true government stronghold was too  
adventurous, especially since it was at least one hundred miles. 
 
Her thoughts tangled into one strong, central force. Survive. Get  
back to Boquette, wash, sleep, and survive. The only way to do  
that was to keep walking and avoid being caught by any of the  
Nationalists. And so, walking in the dark, the three girls and two  
boys followed Peter. 
 
But her thoughts also meandered around herself. The burning  
question she sought to solve was how she could desert the children  
so easily when there was even the slimmest hope of sex. Not just a  
man, any sex. Just as Emma had pointed out, she hadn't really tried  
to escape. She had been in the bath willingly with Maria. And just  
as Maria had said - she recalled with crushing embarrassment -  
lying on Maria's bed, having been threatened hours earlier. Maria  
simply touching her, promise, suggestion in her fingertips, and  
'wham!' she was anybody's. Sex occupied her thoughts almost all  
the time. Sex and how to get satisfaction. It was surely unnatural.  
Dammit, there weren't continual sex scenes in the Sound of  
goddamn Music. Same predicament though. 
 
She caught herself staring at Peter's buttocks. His legs were strong,  
hairy, dependable. She wondered if she would make love to him. It  
seemed likely. She tested herself. If he pulled her into the bushes  
and dropped his trousers would she take hold of his cock? She  
thought hard, imagining the circumstances, the look on his face,  
where the other's might be. The answer was 'probably'. Would she  
have sex with him on the mountain? Definitely not, they were too  
filthy. She ran through the others, sorting them in order of sexual  
attraction. Jamie had to be last. He was nice, but not a turn-on.  
Emma was lovely, a pretty doll who clearly loved her. That left  
Juan - no thanks but clearly a sensitive lover - Peter and Julie. She  
watched Julie, clambering over a rock, muscles bulging in her  
thighs without being masculine. She held a certain fascination,  
mystique, uncharted territory. Lauren imagined her in the bath,  
bubbles cascading down her ... 
 
"Oh shit!" screamed Lauren, falling hard against the ground. She  
grazed her hand as she reached out to break her fall. 
 
"Jeeze, didn't you see it? It's pretty big, right?" asked Emma. 
 
"Yeah, sure. I wasn't watching, that's all. Shit, that damn well hurt!"  
She looked at her wrist, scratched badly, blood dribbling down into  
the palm of her hand. She wrapped her hand in her T-Shirt and  
walked on, the grazes on her knees now making their presence  
known as her legs began to ache. "Shit!" 
 
Occasionally their path took them close to the road and the straggle  
of refugees. They too seemed to walk at night, pushing themselves  
to get home, to discover what had happened to their houses, their  
livestock, their friends. The paths were blocked frequently by huge  
cacti or wild thorn bushes, their prickles difficult to deal with even  
in the moonlight. She cursed them often, holding the branches back  
for the others to pass. Dirt tracks off the main road criss-crossed  
their own makeshift path, leading higher up the mountains to  
isolated houses. She knew in the day their roofs shone in bright  
colours rather than the drab grey of Europe.  
 
Rustling in the undergrowth stopped them on the third morning.  
Lauren was pleased to stop every time they heard something ahead,  
her nerves were on edge and she suspected that everyone else felt a  
bit shell-shocked. Each time it had been an animal, but each time  
they had treated it was deadly concern, squatting down to the side  
of their path, resting, staring into the blackness for a sign, and  
outline of what lay ahead. A goat, on this occasion still tethered to  
a stout iron pole, sniffed at the ground, turning stones with it's  
snout in search of food. The further north they walked, the more  
relaxed they felt. Peter ventured out onto the road as they passed a  
large group of refugees that had gathered expectantly at a cross- 
roads. He wandered on in their direction, ambling off into the  
undergrowth before doubling back to report his findings. 
 
"Seems it's all over. Nobody has seen any Nationalists since two  
days ago. Certainly not round here. We should walk on the road  
when it's dark tonight I think, we'll make it back to your place much  
faster." 
 
It was later that day that Juan realised that they were less than ten  
miles from his old house where he had been staying before setting  
off for the south. They stopped after he and Peter had discussed it  
for several minutes so the whole group could debate what the best  
course of action was, given that they had still seen nothing of the  
Nationalists during their trek. Everyone was tired as they sat in the  
sweltering afternoon sun.  
 
Juan hugged Julie as much as the heat and decency would allow,  
confirming in Lauren's eyes that he had made up his mind. She  
really looked wonderful, even though sweat poured from her  
forehead, her hair matted against her face. Her T-Shirt was torn and  
her jeans almost useless, flashes of her pink knickers showing  
through. Great rips at about waist height that had also cut through  
and torn her skin. She was filthy, hands black with dust and grime,  
her trainers torn, curling at the toes. But underneath, Lauren  
recalled her pure skin, the muscular look to her shoulders, the fine  
covering of pubic hair that had parted when Juan slipped a finger  
into her pussy. She had been so loving that afternoon with him,  
caring, feeling and responding with her hands, caressing him even  
as he bent her backwards on the seat and thrust into her. Lauren  
nodded, agreeing with herself that there was something supremely  
erotic about the girl, with or without clothes, dirty or clean. Her  
thoughts turned again to how she might wash her but went no  
further than running the water. 
 
Juan stood, wished them well, turned, and walked west towards the  
scattered buildings far in the distance. A lump formed in Lauren's  
throat as she watched both Juan and the desperation on Julie's face,  
tears flowing down the girl's cheeks as her lover disappeared into  
the undergrowth. Lauren caught herself, about to utter something  
pointless along the lines of not worrying, she would see him again,  
and simply pulled her to her shoulder, allowing her to weep freely,  
tears washing a clean furrow through her grimy face. 
 
Their confidence grew after that night, so much so that when they  
came across a major road heading north, they left the road and  
crouched in the trees, calculating whether it would be safe to join  
the steady stream of refugees that trudged north. Peter had looked  
at each of them, trying to judge how easily they would pass for  
locals. Their clothes were tatty, their faces blotched, reddened from  
the sun, dusty and dried. They agreed that they would join the  
trickle of people one at a time, at three minute intervals, rather than  
as a group. That was, if one was stopped, the others might have a  
chance to escape. 
 
Their hunger and the dreadful heat caused them naturally to look  
down despondently at the road, following whoever was in front  
silently. Glancing at others along the way, Lauren tried to judge  
whether they had found food anywhere that she might have missed,  
or whether a group had some unfair advantage. But her suspicions  
were confirmed gradually as the journey unfolded and details were  
learnt from fellow refugees. The government had re-taken control  
of the country and offered the Nationalists the chance to talk, on  
the understanding that a cease-fire was respected. Various accounts  
put the cease- fire at almost two weeks old. Initially, one old  
woman said, nobody moved, fearing to return home in case fighting  
broke out again. But as the peace progressed, the trickle became a  
stream until much of the country was heading north, supervised by  
U.N. troops and the government. 
 
Their caution about staying apart, though wise, was unnecessary.  
Continuing their steady march, they made the outskirts of Boquette  
in less than two days, buying a ride on an ancient bus for three  
hundred dollars of Peter's money, more than bus could ever have  
been worth, and certainly more money than the old driver had ever  
seen. 
 
For Lauren, though, the greatest shock lay waiting for her north of  
Boquette, on the road to the house. Her elation at their trek and the  
obvious happy outcome was apparent and infectious. As they  
crested the hill that led up from the bay towards home, a rickety  
tractor approached from behind. It's rhythmic putter resonated  
along the road. Lauren turned to see the huge phallic chimney stack  
belching fumes in to the afternoon air and turned away, holding her  
breath. As it crawled past, she looked up. Her heart leapt as  
disbelief tensed her muscles. Sitting on the back of the low loader  
was Felix, his arm around a little girl - clearly his daughter - and  
another woman leaning against him with a young boy. The very  
picture of the happy family. 
 
"Er, Lauren, that's ..." muttered Emma from behind. 
 
Lauren fumed, her face reddening as she stared at the group  
through slit eyes. "I know, that little shit." She replayed every scene  
at fast forward through her mind. Now she realised why he couldn't  
stay the night. It had nothing to do with work, he simply went  
home to his wife. And the reason he seemed so accomplished in bed  
was that he'd had sex with his wife for years, 'probably every bloody  
day' thought Lauren. Or perhaps not, that was why he came by the  
gallon whenever they made love. She correct herself. No, they had  
sex, they didn't make love. She shook her head, trying to work out  
why she had never even suspected that he could have been married.  
The only comment Emma received was a thin smile from Lauren  
and threats to rearrange his anatomy with the bread knife. 
 
She was unsure whether he had seen her or not, but as the stark  
facts sank in it served to strengthen her stride and bring her up  
alongside Peter. They chatted again, as they had done almost  
continually since their escape, arm in arm, comrades, war heroes.  
Ironically, he had felt embarrassed that the Nationalist hadn't tried  
to snatch them back, and he therefore had wondered out loud if he  
had made a terrible mistake. But his tales of the films - some he had  
seen and others he had heard about - seemed vivid and almost  
plausible enough to justify their clandestine escape. As they entered  
the gravel driveway of the house she held his hand, pulling him  
close to her side as a gesture of thanks. 
 
Chapter 56 
 
There was relief and delight not just at finally opening the two huge  
front doors of the house, but with the fact that everything appeared  
to have been left undisturbed. In their month away, Jamie found  
that the lounge windows had been boarded up and the woodwork  
surround had been replaced and painted, probably in preparation for  
new glass.  
 
"Looks like the landlord has been and done a few repairs." he  
announced passing through the kitchen. While Julie, Juan and Peter  
slowly followed them around, the children explored, checking that  
their respective rooms had been left alone. Satisfied that almost  
everything was normal, they gathered in the kitchen. 
 
"The pool's been patched up, but the pump sounds like it's going to  
explode. Water's clear, though." 
 
"Ahh!" cried Lauren as she opened the fridge. The smell crept out,  
nauseating the group in seconds.  
 
"Jesus, what the hell was in there?" asked Peter. 
 
"I've no idea, but I bet it could walk out on it's own. Jeeze, what a  
stink!" smiled Jamie, handing her a cloth. 
 
It took most of the evening to clear up, make beds and move the  
food out of the spare room and into the utility area. Jamie and  
Lauren would stay in their separate rooms while Julie would stay in  
Emma's room on a mattress. Peter agreed to stay the night on the  
sofa which pulled out to make a reasonable queen-sized bed.  
Everyone took turns using the phone, reporting to the embassy that  
they were safe. Although the line was crackly, Lauren was  
overjoyed to hear that they had her name on the register, and the  
embassy staff sounded truly pleased that she was safe, well and at  
home. She was almost certain too that they said they would get a  
message to her parents in the next couple of days. After ringing off,  
she tried to phone them herself, but despite dialing five or six times,  
received no ringing tone from Switzerland. 
 
Jamie, helped by Peter, brought the air conditioning back on and  
watched carefully as the gas boiler roared into life to provide hot  
water. Just before bed, they wandered out into the grounds,  
checking the fences and making sure there were no dead bodies or  
other inconveniences lurking in the shadows. Emma came running  
back from the stables to report with unconcealed delight that the  
horses had gone. 
 
Lauren waved goodnight to her friends and shut her door quietly.  
Her bed beckoned, the silk bedspread shining in the gloom of the  
evening. She fell, face down on top if it, hugging it's coolness,  
smiling and bubbling at the thought of having escaped so  
successfully. She was sorely tempted to strip and fall asleep on the  
spot, but pushed herself to wander through into her bathroom and  
wash. She tore off her T-Shirt and threw it in the corner, deciding  
that the best thing would be simply to throw it away in the morning.  
She slipped off the remains of her jeans, and peeled her filthy  
knickers off down her legs. Four days of sweat and grime had  
blackened them to a state that she had not thought possible. Naked,  
she stretched above her head, turning to look at herself in the  
mirror. 
 
Her face was definitely blotchy, her cheeks red, almost swollen by  
the sun and rough living. Great black streaks seemed to have  
channeled into her face where sweat had coursed down during their  
trek. Her tan remained intact, but her hips seemed more  
pronounced, not because she had put weight on, but because she  
had lost it, sweated it all away during their one hundred mile sauna  
through the country. Admittedly, a large part had been in the bus,  
but that had been hot if not strenuous. She grabbed her buttocks,  
squeezing them, parting her cheeks as the cool air flowed around  
her legs. A hand cupped her pussy, grinding against the thick mat of  
her pubic hair. She scratched in the most unladylike fashion,  
bringing her fingers up to her nose. It was quite apparent that tired  
or not, she desperately needed to wash. 
 
The shower water was luke warm at best, but that scarcely  
mattered as she pulled the curtain around and stepped under the jet.  
Raising her arms, she let the water pummel her body, massaging her  
back into life. The water flowed down her legs, still clean to her  
surprise. However, once the soap took effect, great black streams  
of dirt appeared, and every time she rubbed her skin, the water  
changed colour. Ten minutes later, she stepped out, dripping and  
incredulous that there had been so much dirt and moreover, that she  
could have even considered going to bed without washing. 
 
In her lounge, she slumped on the sofa and flicked on the TV. The  
rerun of a western that she had seen when she first arrived made her  
smile. Still naked and dripping water, she absently rested her right  
foot on the arm of the sofa and laid back to watch the film. Her  
fingers found her pussy, reawakening her with feelings that had  
been absent for almost a week. The message said 'play with me' but  
reality beckoned. She turned off the TV, and slid into bed, hugging  
the pillow as she drifted into her dreamworld. 
 
Lauren woke at seven, and even though her clock agreed, she  
distrusted it enough to get up, wash and dress in her father's great  
white shirt and clean (oh joy!) knickers before making her way to  
the kitchen. Passing the lounge, she spied Peter, flat on his stomach  
on the sofabed. Her breathed heavily, his frame pushing up the thin  
sheet that covered him. She leant against the doorway, watching.  
He was broad-shouldered, strong, and tall. His clothes lay scattered  
around the room just as though they had been ripped from his body  
the night before. Alarm bells rang briefly in her head. Julie, Emma?  
Surely not. She tip- toed into the kitchen, made coffee as quickly as  
possible and returned to sit on the side of his bed. 
 
"Hey, wakey wakey! Another thirty miles to do!" The lack of five  
days shaving was apparent, stubble beginning to lay evenly over his  
face. 
 
"Ohh!" he grumbled, rolling onto his back with a broad smile. She  
sat facing him, offering the coffee as he looked around for another  
pillow to help him sit upright. "Jeeze, I really ache" 
 
"Yeah, so do I. You should use the pool today, relax in the sun a  
bit." He nodded, pushing the pillow behind him as he gathered the  
sheet around his waist. He had a hairy chest, muscular with rounded  
shoulders and strong arms. His eyes wandered over Lauren,  
dwelling momentarily on her long legs as he sipped his coffee.  
Lauren recalled her thoughts about Peter, how he had tied for first  
place with Julie. She knew it would end up like his tale of his past  
girlfriend, probably even worse until she herself returned to  
Switzerland. After the uprising, and assuming that everything  
settled down, he was unlikely to return to San Falino on business. 
 
"I must call work, tell them I'll be out of contact for a couple of  
days." 
 
"Ohh, right!" 
 
"Oh, sorry, if that's OK. I mean, well...you know." Lauren nodded,  
smiling assent. She shifted slightly, facing him. 
 
"I can show you round. The car's still here, and we could go into  
Boquette. In fact, we could all go out for lunch. I've got the  
housekeeping credit card!" He smiled, leaning over to find  
somewhere to put his coffee. Lauren took it from him, placing it  
safely by the fireplace. 
 
"You look nice and cool. How hot is it today?" 
 
She shrugged. "My father's." she said, posing to show off the shirt. 
 
"Suits you." His eyes probed beneath the shirt tails. "Didn't Jamie  
say the pool was working?" 
 
"Yep. You'd have to borrow some of his Dad's swimming trunks.  
You're much too big for his." said Lauren innocently. As the words  
sank in she smiled, shaking her with embarrassment, shifting closer  
to him. He toured her body again with his gaze, pleasure in his eyes  
quite apparent as he leaned back against his pillow, his movement  
and body inviting, casual. Lauren leaned across him, placing her left  
hand the other side of his legs, still not touching but confirming  
interest. Her legs shifted once again, the tanned highway in line  
with his head. 
 
"Hey!" exclaimed Lauren as though discovering something  
revolutionary, "do you want a bath? You can use mine if you  
want?" Her mind told that the offer was as far as she wanted to go  
at that moment. If he had pulled her down and kissed her, she  
would have reciprocated willingly. And perhaps there was a short  
future in a relationship with him, by way of thanks rather than  
anything else, but sex in the lounge had been tried before and was  
definitely too risky. 
 
"I'm too tired to wash, all I could do would be to lie there. Of  
course, if someone washed me, that would be OK!" 
 
She laughed. "That's a great idea. I'll run the water and then make  
sure that Jamie doesn't mind washing you!" She took the  
opportunity to glance quickly down again at his hips. The shock on  
her face was beyond concealment as she gauged the size of his  
cock. The shape of his leg was clear beneath the sheet, a swelling  
that fell with as the sheet hugged his inner thigh. But in the middle,  
between the two sharp bones of his hips bobbed his cock. Lauren  
had no idea quite how big he was, or whether he was fully erect,  
but a surge of adrenaline and lust coursed through her body,  
fluttering her heart as she realised he made no effort to conceal his  
erection. Regaining some composure, she stared directly into his  
eyes, starting a game. 
 
"Sorry, that's no fun!" he said. 
 
"Perhaps Emma and me, then. We'd have to make sure you're really  
clean. But I expect you'd be embarrassed, wouldn't you?" 
 
He looked at her intently, trying to judge how serious she was. He  
stuttered. "Emma's too young for such things, she's so innocent,  
right?" Lauren caught the movement of his cock under the sheet.  
She leaned further onto his legs, bringing her own up so that he  
couldn't quite see her knickers. 
 
"She needs to learn sometime, right?" she suggested. 
 
"Lauren, you're a naughty girl! I remember what you said you did  
with that girl in Switzerland." 
 
"Nikki" 
 
"Yeah. Washing and all the rest" 
 
"What rest?" Her hand found his thigh and rubbed gently, closing  
in. 
 
"Come here" he said softly. Lauren debated, intentionally giving the  
impression of her mental process. She slid to the floor, brushing his  
cock with her arm. Her lips met his, their kiss long, exploratory.  
She broke away, patting his cock as she stood. 
 
"Breakfast!" she said and turned, suprising herself that it had been  
easy to break away from what was most definitely the promise of  
the biggest cock in her life. She waved at Julie down the hallway as  
she emerged to greet the new day. Leaning on the sink in the  
kitchen, she realised that while she half felt like sex, something  
seemed to have happened to her during the past week. She created  
scenarios, judging them for their potency and desirability. A hug  
and kiss with Emma would be fine. She had a strong interest in  
doing anything with Julie, especially as she was such a dependable  
girl, cute and full of energy. Peter was fine, but she now thought  
that a relationship was impractical, probably even if they both lived  
in Switzerland. Jamie didn't even register as a possibility. Food and  
relaxation, house repair supervision and the children's schooling  
were therefore her top priorities. 'Yes', she thought, 'new priorities  
in my new life. Responsibility. Leadership.' 
 
The smell of cooking and coffee roused the household, and by ten  
everyone was fed, washed and ready for the day. Lauren spent  
much of the morning on the phone, leaving messages for Elizabeth  
and Gustav at every number she could find. One of Elizabeth's team  
mentioned that they all knew that the children were home and safe.  
Gustav was in Switzerland, but Elizabeth would now be cutting  
short her work in the north, and be home at the weekend, four days  
away. She would call that evening. 
 
"Damn nice of her!" said Lauren out loud as the line went dead. She  
showed Peter to her bathroom, their movements and distance  
perfectly choreographed, eliminating any chance of an accidental  
touch, their casual behaviour speaking volumes of what might  
transpire later. 
 
"Here. Soap, towel. What else?" she asked. 
 
"Got a spare toothbrush?" 
 
"Yep, here!" she said, opening the medicine cabinet on the wall. To  
her horror, two plastic gloves fell into the sink. She scooped them  
up, trying desperately of something to say. "Er, medicinal purposes.  
Emma" 
 
"No problem" he offered, his eyes wandering all over her for any  
sign of a clue to their real purpose. 
 
Lauren made her excuses and left, reminding him that she would be  
through in her bedroom, sorting out her washing. She listened  
during the ten minutes he needed, amused by the sound of his  
humming in the shower, the occasional shriek. She knew full well  
that the noises were half invitations to go and assist, but that didn't  
figure into her new plans. 
 
He emerged, dripping with a towel around his body and another  
round his head, his hair wet and matted. Lauren plugged in her hair  
drier and guided him to the edge of the bed. Kneeling behind him,  
she rubbed his thick hair, alternately combing and fluffing it to  
encourage it to dry. He seemed so strong, manly. It was wholesome  
to have him in her bedroom. She wondered if that's what the room  
needed to make it more like home, a man. The silk bedspread  
caressed her legs, recalling the feeling of how her bottom had felt  
when her ankles had been by her ears and Felix had introduced her  
to his toy. 
 
She settled slowly onto her heels, fully aware that the deeper she  
sank, the more her father's shirt rode up her thighs. Dropping her  
comb, she shifted slightly, using her left hand briefly to touch her  
pussy, loosening the tight knickers and allowing it to breath. She  
found there was something erotic, almost creative in running her  
hands innocently through his hair, combing it into some sort of  
order, touching him to her hearts content. He sighed occasionally,  
and when she thought his eyes might be closed, she knelt higher in  
order to glance round his shoulder and into his lap, the bulge still  
clearly defined beneath the wet towel. 
 
Although tempted, she flicked off the switch, announced that he  
could use the little lounge to change in if he wanted, and then left  
him alone while she again tried the phone. Pleased with herself and  
her new moral code, she made her way to the utility room. 
 
They had lunch in the town as planned, riding around like tourists  
as they showed the sights to Julie and Peter. Lauren allowed herself  
two beers at lunch, and felt more than relaxed as they pulled up  
back at the house. Her little entourage tumbled from the car and  
into the house, the cool of the air conditioning almost knocking  
them over as they slammed the door noisily. 
 
"Look" she said, loudly, to Julie and Peter "if this is your last night  
here you two we should have farewell party and celebrate! There's  
tons of food and drink here!" 
 
"Great idea. The we can take you to the station tomorrow morning,  
right Lori?" said Emma, herself a little merry from lunch. 
 
Lauren watched Julie as she shuffled closer to Jamie. It was clear  
that they would be saying good-bye most of the night and well into  
the early morning. Then it dawned on her that she had actually seen  
Julie leaving Jamie's room that morning. She grinned at the girl,  
mentally undressing her with the greatest of ease as she recalled the  
performance with Juan. Julie returned the smile, grasping Jamie's  
hand in hers. 
 
"Let's not wait for tonight, let's start now!" said Jamie, gaining a  
cheer of approval. Leading the way, he removed a bottle of white  
wine from the fridge, grabbed five glasses and walked onto the  
patio. He stripped, showing that he already had his swimming  
trunks on underneath his shorts, and slowly waded out from the  
shallow end of the pool, careful in case he stepped on rocks or any  
other object left by the builders. Lauren showed Peter to Gustav's  
wardrobe, searching with him to locate a pair of swimming trunks.  
It crossed her mind that he might try them on right there, in front of  
her, but modesty won the day, and he sneaked off into the  
bathroom to change. Re-emerging with more of a fatherly image,  
they sniggered together before parting so that Lauren could change. 

Chapter 57 
 
Back on the patio, Julie was almost suitably clothed. The thought  
was there, but Emma's spare bikini was meant for a girl of thirteen,  
not seventeen. The small patches of cloth barely covered her  
nipples, and the bikini bottom cut wickedly into her thighs, molding  
itself to her athletic build. Lauren slumped down onto the lounger,  
leaning back as she sipped the ice cold wine. She watched Jamie  
plying back and forth, turning effortlessly, length after length. Julie  
watched him with great interest as she sat on the deck chair, an  
ankle resting on her knee, no doubt, thought Lauren, giving Jamie a  
wonderful view of the material as it must surely be trapped between  
the soft folds of her labia. 
 
Lauren closed her eyes, aware that Peter wanted to talk, to join the  
group. He knew little of what they had been forced to do in Maria's  
wayward house, but Lauren had briefly mentioned that everyone  
was involved at the same time, including Emma. She had glossed  
over the facts about her relationship with Maria and focused on the  
little show that they had been persuaded to perform for Maria's so- 
called Uncle. Peter had been fascinated, asking no questions,  
lapping up every detail as they trudged along on the second day of  
the walk. His interest shifted from a need for the sexual details to a  
search for the reason that they were still alive. Lauren gradually  
realised that Maria may have felt that to have Lauren and Emma  
alive and willing was of more service to her than involve them in  
one of her more violent productions. They had not discussed the  
event since that time, the subject taboo. 
 
She opened her eyes, just in time to see Emma standing by the  
poolside, wineglass in hand. Jamie was bobbing up and down in the  
water, encouraging her. She swigged back the half empty glass, set  
it down and flicked the clasp of her bikini top. It hit the floor at the  
same time she entered the water, diving gracefully beside her  
brother. The activity wasn't missed by Peter, who sat up casually,  
waiting for the little girl to re-emerge. She didn't disappoint,  
breaking the surface fast enough to allow her young breasts to burst  
forth into the sunlight in all their glory. Lauren became aware of  
Julie to her right, restless and clearly torn between staying with the  
older pair and joining those closer to her age. Youth won. She  
stood in her tight bikini and walked to the edge of the pool,  
acknowledging the whistles and laughter from the water. 
 
Lauren and Peter looked at each other, smiling before turning back  
to watch the girl. Her physique was perfect, both elegant and  
athletic, the broad shoulders of a swimmer, maybe, combined with  
the no-nonsense tautness of her limbs. Her buttocks were tight  
together, trapping the thin strap of her bikini in a way that revealed  
her pussy lips between her legs to perfection. She turned to Lauren. 
 
"Do you mind?" she asked, holding the front clasp of her bikini top.  
Her breasts bulged from almost every edge of the material. 
 
"No, we're very casual here, don't you worry." she replied,  
dismissing her concern with a wave of her hand, spilling her wine.  
Julie flicked her fingers, revealing to Lauren once again her breasts,  
the nipples flat, asleep. She dropped the hopelessly inadequate  
clothing on top of Emma's and sat down on the edge of the pool,  
dangling her feet in the water. Jamie swam across to her and  
gripped her legs, pulling relentlessly until she tumbled on top of him  
into the water, laughing in delight at the cool water and the  
sensation of their bodies together. 
 
Lauren shifted on the lounger, crossing her legs and squeezing her  
thighs, glancing to her left at Peter and smiling. "Hot, eh?" she said,  
her words not slurred but with a pronounced drawl. Peter nodded.  
His hands were in his lap as he laid back against the raised seat,  
trying to look the picture of calm while his cock attempted to burst  
out from underneath the trunks. Her eyes gleamed in the sunlight as  
she toured his body, from his strong shoulders and arms, down over  
his ancient trunks and along his hairy legs. Ample room in the  
trunks for her hand, she thought. She decided two things within  
seconds of each other. Firstly, she just had to lose her top, because  
the sun was making her itch. Secondly, she wasn't going to be  
distasteful and do it herself. That was a job for Peter, and she  
would let him do it as a way of thanking him. He turned, following  
her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the length of time she had stared at  
him. 
 
Lauren and Peter ventured into the water only briefly, enough to be  
able to say they joined in, to wash away the heat of the afternoon.  
But she didn't like the splashing and the constant diving of the  
others worried her, so rather than nervously clinging to the edge,  
she waded out, stood still and drip dried for a couple of minutes  
and then resumed her relaxed position on the lounger. Peter pulled  
himself out of the water less than five minutes later. 
 
"Want some more wine, this white's almost gone?" 
 
"Yeah, I'll show you where it is." said Lauren, springing to her feet.  
Blood pounded in her head, black blotches from the sudden jump  
up half obscuring her vision as she wandered towards the kitchen.  
He caught her arm, steadying her as she stepped onto the cool  
marble of the utility room floor. "Here!" she said, opening the  
fridge, "one more bottle of white, then there's tons of red in the  
spare room." She put the bottle on the kitchen table, and took his  
hand, pulling him to the spare room. Her knuckles brushed against  
his rigid cock, her brain noting the hardness and, to her delayed  
surprise, the utter desire that registered. Their fingers interlocked,  
cool and damp, exploring, squeezing as their feet flapped along the  
cold hallway. 
 
She guided him into the room, flicking the door closed with her  
foot as he tugged along. They spun round, unspoken words  
exchanged, consent signaled as they edged closer. Her bikini was  
damp, the material clinging tightly to her body. Lauren pulled him  
towards her, his cock now raging against her stomach. To her  
amazement, the length of his erection and his physical height caused  
the top of his cock to nestle against the firm, graceful curve of her  
breast. She gripped his buttocks, pulling him close as she looked up  
dreamily into his eyes. Her lips parted as he leaned down, craning  
his neck to kiss her forehead. She could feel tiny drips from her  
bikini running down her leg, warm, caressing. 
 
She exhaled, delighted at his touch, the coolness of his hands, the  
safety of his strength. Swaying slightly, she kissed him back,  
slipping her tongue along his lip, encouraging him as his hands  
gripped her back, squeezing her breasts against his hairy chest. Her  
bikini top reminded her of the desire building inside her and so  
when his hands rubbed lightly against the side of her breasts she  
sighed, kissing him hard in encouragement. But rather than ripping  
her clothes off, she felt his grip increase, squeezing her sides, lifting  
her slightly so that she stood on tiptoes. Her hands moved over his  
back, circling, rising until she held his shoulders, maintaining her  
embrace with a sigh and a thundering heart. 
 
"Eyes closed?" 
 
She laughed, recalling their flight. "Story time?" 
 
"Mmm. Tell me what you feel." 
 
She thought, hot and panting as she lay her head on his shoulder  
and gently swayed back and forth to imaginary music. "I feel our  
bodies, close, touching all the way down. I feel your feet against  
mine. I feel your legs. I know your heart is beating very quickly.  
Your mouth is warm and tastes of white wine. I can smell chlorine,  
lunch." 
 
"What else?" 
 
"I feel the cool air in the room, the warmth of my legs. I know  
there's suntan stuff under my arms and over my stomach. My  
muscles still ache. I'm a little drunk, not hungry. And you feel so  
clean. Your skin feels tight, cold, my fingers sort of squeak over it  
when I touch you." 
 
"What's poking against your stomach?" 
 
"Your cock" she replied without hesitation. 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Because it's stiff" 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Perhaps it's happy!" 
 
"Because you're here, because you're so gorgeous. Because when  
you take your top off, I think you'll look like an angel." He kissed  
her again. 
 
Lauren laughed at his romantic notions, trying to minimize the  
secret delight of his words. "I'm not going to take it off." He looked  
at her. 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Because that's your job." She turned, breaking their embrace.  
Undecided whether to stay in the spare room or venture to her own  
bedroom, she grabbed the wine and split the difference, stumbling  
into the bed. Again, he steadied her, leading her towards the  
lounge. They flopped onto the white sofa, kneeling while they  
leaned over the back to check that the others were safe and minding  
their own business. Julie was sitting on the edge, dangling her legs  
in the water while leaning back on her elbows with her head tilted  
right back. She stared at the sky while Jamie buried his head  
between her legs, licking her while Emma watched. Lauren turned  
to Peter, soliciting comment.  
 
He looked embarrassed, smiling nervously as he shifted, obviously  
rubbing his cock through his trunks on the back of the sofa. 
 
Lauren leaned forward, feeling the warmth of his breath as she  
approached, then the wet tingle as they kissed. She slid her arm  
along the back of the sofa, scooping him up while her other hand  
pulled him closer. "Some red wine, I think. To celebrate our  
freedom." 
 
"OK, but not too much, we don't want to fall asleep, right?" Lauren  
up-ended her wine glass, draining the remainder of the white wine.  
He poured carefully, the deep red liquid clinging to the side of the  
glass, the heady bouquet filling the room. "Cheers!" he said. They  
turned away from the activity on the patio and slipped down  
together. His eyes followed the wine glass, sneaking a look at her  
magnificent cleavage as she drank. Lauren looked so tanned, firm,  
young and most definitely in need of some serious loving. She  
rested her half-empty glass on the carpet and sank into the sofa,  
smiling while she shuffled around, turning her back on him while  
her head slipped over his chest, coming to rest in his lap. There was  
no mistaking his cock, arrogant, hard and ridiculously long, starting  
below her right ear, and giving every impression of continuing way  
above as her head pushed it hard against his stomach. 
 
Peter's hands rubbed her shoulders, massaging again the tired aches  
out of her system. Fingers probed deeper, gliding occasionally over  
the top of her breasts, delving the tiniest of distances under the tight  
material of her top. She glanced down, pleased to see her nipples  
erect, standing to attention, aching slightly as though deprived of  
sustenance. She pushed back, digging her head deeper into his lap,  
rolling his cock back and forth beneath the trunks. She brought her  
knees up, really wanting to open her legs, to leave one on the sofa  
cushion and the other on the back of the seat, but modesty dictated  
that she should wait until invited. 
 
The wine was having an effect on her now, her eyelids heavy, her  
movements dreamy as warmth from their bodies mixed to provide  
sanctuary. Relaxed, comfortable, so cozy with him as lazy fingers  
wandered over her shoulders, stroked the side of her face, teased  
jokingly as he placed a finger against her lips and quickly moved  
before she could bite it. Games she had played with her mother. He  
traced the outline of her bikini top, implying his desire to venture  
down to her hard nipples, to reveal the true perfection of her form.  
She pushed against his fingers, pleased as a finger tip brushed over  
the tautness, flicked and caressed before escaping for fear of  
offending. 
 
"You look gorgeous down there" he whispered. "such long legs, all  
the way down the sofa" She pushed into his lap, her left hand  
dropping to her side, finding his leg and stroking gently. "I can see  
you breathing, rising and falling. I think I can hear your heart  
beating too!" 
 
Lauren smiled, giggling as she ran her fingers through the hair on  
his legs. She turned her head very slightly to the right, bringing  
more of his cock into contact with her cheek. The warmth and  
hardness permeated his trunks, beckoning her, tempting her to take  
him in her mouth while he bulged a matter of inches from her face.  
The stiff outline of his manhood played tents, the top of his thick  
cock straining to reach daylight. He breathed deeply, in thanks for  
the added attention, stroking her hair before slowly, with the  
utmost care and strength, lifting her shoulders so that he could kiss  
her tenderly on the lips. Lauren melted, closing her eyes in total  
surrender to his lips, bending her knees and parting her legs slightly  
as she reached back and grabbed his neck. He twisted around so  
that their kiss was more conventional, pulling her up against his leg  
so that he still had to lean down but could hold her side and pull her  
close. 
 
To her relief she felt his hands roaming over her breasts, his thumb  
dipping under the thin elastic as he peeled the material away from  
her proud beauty. The bra straps slipped down her arms as the cups  
drifted to her waist, revealing her breasts and signaling to Lauren  
that he had taken the plunge and the trembling demands within her  
pussy would be satisfied at last. 
 
"You're perfect!" he said, shaking his head slightly. Embarrassed,  
she leaned and pulled his lips to her own, stifling any further  
examination and hopefully encouraging him to the next goal.  
Leaning across his legs, she slipped her hand inside the leg of his  
trunks, feeling her way to the thin webbing that served as a lining.  
He gripped her harder, rewarding her ambition and opening his legs  
slightly to allow greater movement. Pushing further, she felt the  
soft, squishy skin of his balls, hanging warm and loose between his  
legs. Slightly further was the rock hard beginning of his cool cock,  
bursting forth between his balls, immovable, rampant, seemingly  
endless. Unable to contain her curiosity, she clumsily traced it's  
length, speechless as the trunks prevented her from finding anything  
that felt like the great red knob she expected. 
 
"Oh yes, that's lovely." he said, rubbing her nipples gently with the  
palm of his hand before skimming down to her bikini bottom. "I can  
see your pussy lips beneath your bikini" 
 
Amazed and aroused by the running commentary, she nodded,  
looking down as she parted her legs a little more. Her hand found  
her pussy, the middle finger extended as she brought temporary  
relief. "I want you. I need you really deep inside me." She panted  
hard now, caught up in the language. "Make me come, do  
anything!" He slid down the sofa and picked her up in his arms in  
one fluid motion. Kneeling down on one knee, he grabbed the  
bottle of wine while she picked up their glasses. He stood again,  
pausing so they could watch the children once more from the gloom  
of the lounge. Jamie now laid on the lounger and Julie, naked and  
with her back to them, sucked his cock. Her legs were slightly  
parted and the erotic outline of her pussy and the bright spot of her  
anus between her legs affected them both. Emma appeared to be  
naked as well but content to sit in a chair on her own, watching.  
Lauren giggled again.  




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