____________________________
| |
/)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\
/ )| DIRECTORIES |( \
__( (|____________________________|) )__
((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / )))
(\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///)
\ / \ /
\ _/ \_ /
/ / \ \
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Archive name: Stew04.txt
Authors name: Unknown
Story Title: "The Scandalous Stewardess"
Chapter 4
When Davie didn't appear in the dining room at lunch time, Peter
Knight was seized with a strange feeling of apprehension, although he
told himself it was probably unwarranted. The sexy blonde stewardess
was also conspicuously absent, however, and a casual inquiry to Benny,
his maitre d', informed him that Miss Byers had requested a picnic lunch
for two. He decided to go in search of Davie. He just didn't feel
right about his guileless daughter spending too much time with the older
"Friend," who was not to be trusted, in his opinion.
He walked down to the beach and shielded his eyes against the
invading rays of light, looking to infinity in hotly directions. No
sign of Davie or the sensual blonde. He went to the woman's bungalow
and knocked politely. No answer. He tried the door, found it unlocked
and went in. The room had been made up and was noticeably void of
occupants. He left the bungalow and walked to the house. Again, no
one. For some reason, his concern was mounting. He tried to tell
himself that he was being an over protective old fuddy duddy, but the
tension in his stomach grew. Finally he climbed in the Porsche and
headed along one of the narrow dirt roads that paralleled the ribbon of
white beach. He stopped periodically, idling the Porsche and walking
through the low foliage on the dunes to scan the shimmering sand. Where
the hell was Davie?
He was just about to climb hack into the Porsche and head back in
the other direction when he caught sight of some movement in the bushes
about 500 feet away. A female stood up--God! It was Trish Byers, naked
as September Morn!
Instinctively, he squatted down and tried to hide himself until she
had resumed her supine position on the beach. She hadn't seen him.
Christ!--that broad. He was certain Davie must he with her . . . lying
under the sun with that scheming sexpot. Was she naked as well? He
broke out in a sweat, remembering Davie's candid admission of the night
before: "Slumber parties. I didn't want to go when I found out what was
going on--what was expected of me. But they gave me a really hard
time. Called me names and made fun of me. So I . . . I finally had to
go along . . ."
No! Not my Davie! Not my precious little girl!
He turned off the ignition and left the Porsche in the middle of
the road. Then he walked stealthily to the cluster of foliage behind
the spot where Trish Byers had gone to the bathroom. It was a shallow
depression in the verdant dune. A dark, wet island in the alabaster
sand and a crumpled wet tissue provided confirmation. He avoided those
and crept silently to the elevated ledge of the dune.
What he saw blew his mind completely and made his eyes pop and his
jaw drop and his cock swell to hardness inside his crisp, tailored
slacks! Davie was there, all right! His beautiful daughter was lying
on her back on a bright striped beach towel and was totally naked! Her
long, slim legs were spread apart and her arms were outstretched and her
eyes were closed. Her incredibly beautiful young breasts stood upright
from her chest, the rosy little nipples like delicate raspberries. He
drank in the beauty of his daughter's flat abdomen and smooth, supple
young thighs, marveling at the perfection of her body.
Next to her knelt the stewardess, her woman's body another marvel
of enticing feminine pulchritude. Goddamn! She was the sexiest thing
he had ever seen, he had to admit. Big jugs, perfect mounds of edible
flesh whose nipples were large and hard as pencil erasers. Her hips
were high and angular, flaring just below her slim waist, and the dark
blonde pubic hair at the base of her smoothly rounded stomach glistened
with reflected light from the sun as it was trapped in the dewy drops of
perspiration that clung to the furry growth.
There was a salacious smile on the blonde's sophisticated face as
she poured a dark oil into her hand and leaned over Davie. No! She
wasn't going to put it on h s daughter's tender, naked body!
Oh, yes she was! And she did--beginning with the child's lovely
young throat and working her way across Davie's shapely shoulders and
down her arms. There was something too goddamned seductive about the
way she was doing it--much too seductive. He wanted to shout at her, to
get up and show himself and tell her to get lost. But he couldn't. His
eyes were riveted to the scene that was enfolding below him. And his
cock was rock hard; confronting them now was out of the question.
He noticed an empty wine bottle next to a large straw hat. Damn
the bitch--she's gotten Davie high! He knew all too well how fast wine
goes to the head on a hot afternoon!
Davie stretched her body languorously, a controlled reaction to he
disturbing sensations of pleasure that were coursing through her body.
Despite a feeling that she was getting into something she shouldn't
allow to happen, she couldn't help becoming excited by her older
friend's tender application of warm oil on her body. She felt a little
dizzy from the wine, and from the relentless sun. But it was so
wonderful to lie here and feel those gentle, knowledgeable hands on her
flesh. Trish was a wonderful friend, and so understanding . . .
Talking to her was like talking to a therapist; she made no judgments,
raised no eyebrows . . .not even when Davie confessed what had happened
at those slumber parties. Every kind of lovemaking is beautiful, Trish
had said, though there's nothing like a man. But pleasure is pleasure,
and why (deny your body any of the wonderful experiences that are
possible between two people . . .?
Lying under the island sun, so far away from the dreary and
depressing life in New York City, Davie had to concede that what Trish
said was probably right.
The lustful blonde's blue eyes widened as she placed her oil-laden
palm on Davie's blossoming breasts and began to caress the tender flesh
in slow, thoughtful circles. Her lips curled into a self-satisfied
smile as the young nipples swelled to hardness under her ministrations.
She used both her hands to massage the firm mounds of sensitive flesh,
feeling her own cunt secreting the liquid of her desire in increasing
flow. Trish was almost trembling from pent-up arousal as she continued
stroking and massaging Davie's breasts gently, slowly . . . ever so
gently and ever so slowly. She had promised herself that she would not
touch the teenager--today--but Davie's accounting of her lesbian
"slumber parties" was more than she could have hoped for. This kid has
had her cunt eaten before,
and she's licked a few pussies herself. But she's never been sucked by
a pro like Trish Byers! she said to herself. This is going to be easier
than I thought . . . God, oh God, this is going to be the sweetest
little cunt I've ever had!
The voluptuous blonde eased her fingers off Davie's upthrust
breasts and poured more oil into her hands. Then she resumed her
caresses, allowing her hands to slide down and across the smooth, flat
belly and over the sloping hips and down the sides of the excited girl's
thighs and calves, pressing her fingers between each of Davie's toes and
massaging her instep and arches.
Shit! Peter Knight swore silently, the hitch really knows her
stuff. She's going to turn Davie on for sure! He agonized over the
lascivious sight, wanting to interrupt and spare his lovely daughter the
shameful experience of being seduced by the sex-mad stewardess. But
Davie would die of embarrassment if she knew her loving father was
spying on the two of them. That would really give her cause for shame!
She just might decide she couldn't or didn't want to face him ever
again, and he would swallow sand before he took that risk. It was
horrifying, but he had no choice other than to lie low and pray to God
he could get out of there without being discovered. But as for the
blonde pervert--he'd fix her ass, all right!
Trish's hands were moving slowly up the dark-haired teenager's bare
legs now and Davie's flesh shone with the generous coating of sun tan
oil the stewie had applied.
"Doesn't it feel great, Davie?" she whispered to he naked teen.
Her voice was ragged with sexual excitement.
"Yes . . . oh, yessss," Davie answered quietly. She squirmed on
the towel a bit, so that her thighs were even further apart. I know a
man's hands would feel better, but, whatdya gonna do?" she said with
feigned lightness. "There ain't nobody here but us chicks!"
Davie managed a weak smile.
The clever batch! Knight said to himself. She's not only out to
seduce Davie, she wants to turn her onto men, too! I'll cut her tits
off! Despite his anger and revulsion, he was becoming increasingly
turned on himself, and it was all he could do to keep his own hand away
from his aching cock. He couldn't understand it--ever since Davie had
arrived he had found himself giving in to the animal in him, a lusting
beast he had had, of necessity, to keep in a cage. Now the beast was
roaring from its cave, and louder all the time. That Trish has got to
be the hottest fuck around, he was thinking as she bent over his
daughter and let her skillful hands roam wantonly on the young girl's
flesh. I'll cut her tits off . . . but maybe I'll get a taste of them
first!
The blonde was poised over Knight's daughter now, her face
dangerously close to the sixteen year old's; her puffy, globular breasts
only inches from the upthrust schoolgirl's. Wordlessly, she reached for
Davie's hand and placed it on one of her fleshy, hanging mounds.
Davie's eyes flew open momentarily and she found herself looking up into
the smiling lips of the stewardess. "Don't worry, honey," the blonde
vamp reassured her, "There's nothing wrong with it. I just want to make
you feel good. That's what friends are for . . ."
She was unable to control herself any longer, so great was her
desirefor the tender pussy of her young initiate. Her own cunt was
soaked with the juices of her lust. This was the moment she had so
patiently waited for!
She leaned further towards tile young girl and touched her lips to
Davie's half-open mouth, letting her pointed pink tongue flick across
the warm softness. Davie moaned softly, knowing she shouldn't accept
the other woman's mouth, but she was too filled with needs of her own to
protest. The sun, the wine, the sexy photographs of the guy who looked
like Randy and the frank conversation with Trish had all conspired to
release her inhibitions and set her longing for experiences she had long
had secret fantasies about. At that moment, she just wanted to cum . .
.. to feel that feeling like no other sensation in the world. And the
perverted aspect of he association with a woman who was eleven years
older than she stoked the fires of her confused desire. She didn't care
whether it was wrong or not; she just wanted to keep feeling the
wonderful sensations that surged throughout her body.
Her arm came up, encircling Trish's neck. Peter Knight nearly
fainted. The blonde's tongue began to work insanely inside Davie's
mouth as she let her hand slide down the aroused girl's body until it
came to rest on the down pubic mound. She entwined her lacquered
fingertips in the soft, dark hair and began to tickle the flesh beneath
it. Davie's thighs parted further, giving the blonde seductress tacit
permission to continue her manual exploration. Which she did.
She parted the soft, wet labia and pressed a long finger gently
into the sticky cuntal crevice, causing Davie's clitoris to throb so
hard that Trish could feel the little pulse, like the heartbeat of a
frightened bird, against her excited slit. She pressed her full-blown
breasts into Davie's and ground them around and around, thrilling to the
delicious contact of breast on breast, and nipple against nipple. She
pushed her finger into Davie's vagina, and the girl let out an
involuntary gasp.
But she wasn't going to spot things for Randy. She had promised
him a cherry, and that's what he would get. She wanted a taste of the
pie!
Trash left the girl's mouth and began to kiss the turgid, swollen
areolas of her sweetly tender breasts, evoking more gasps of excitement
from Davie. Then she scooted away slightly and threw her leg over
Davie's hips so that she was straddling the breathless teen. Their
pussies came in contact, and Trish began to rock back and forth, her own
cunt a volcano of desire. She let out a few moans of her own, but she
was bent on sucking that luscious little slit and not even the fiery
sensations produced by pussy-to-pussy contact could stay her from her
intended task. She could wait no longer.
Sliding backwards along Davie's thighs, she bent down over the
girl's oil-and-sweat slickened body and flicked her tongue into the
small crater of flesh that punctuated her abdomen. The dark-haired
beauty gasped.
"What a lovely little navel you have, Davie!" Trish said between
pants. "Tasty. Very tasty."
The young girl's hips began to undulate more freely on the towel.
Soooo nice . . . Oh, how good it feels. So what if it's wrong? . . .
and maybe it isn't alter all. It just feels sooooo good. I can't stop
it . . . I need to cum so much . . . Davie was dazedly thinking.
Peter Knight had some pretty dazed thoughts of his own. Oh, Davie,
my dearest darling girl . . . what's happening to you? Why are you
letting it happen, sweetheart? It's wrong, what she's doing to you.
You shouldn't let a woman do that to your beautiful little body--that's
a man's job . . .
He was suddenly brought up short, realizing what he had just
thought. Good God, he was mentally advocating sexual relations between
his beloved daughter and a man! He didn't mean that. He couldn't mean
that. She was too young. It was too soon for her to know the pleasure
a man could give her. Yet, she knew what pleasure a woman could bring.
Wasn't that worse? Yes, that was perverted! Did he really want Davie
to continue her sexual experimentation with the opposite sex, though?
Hell, no! So what was she supposed to do . . . nothing? It was a
little late for that.
Peter Knight was racked with confusion and torment--much of it
coming from his gonads. He couldn't deny that he was excited beyond
belief by the obscene spectacle between these two outstanding females,
both with incredible bodies. But one of them was his own daughter. If
he had a shred of decency, he would turn away from the sight . . . hell,
he would have gone out the way he came in; like a guerrilla scout in
enemy territory--very, very quietly, and very, very fast! But he
couldn't not look. He had to watch, though he had a case of lover's
nuts that would break the Guinness Book of Records!
Trish's head hovered over the young girl's silky pubic mound and
her hot breath fanned the glistening curls that framed the rosy lips of
the teenage cunt. Her hands followed, moving from Davie's breasts down
her belly and coming to rest on her marble flanks. She used her thumbs
to gently part the trembling cunt lips, exposing Davie's clitoral button
to her wanton gaze. "What a beautiful little pussy you have, honey.
Oh, what a darling cunt!" Trish enthused, pausing for a moment to peer
into the delicate folds of tissue she hungered for. It was sweet
torment, this delay. But she was suddenly seized with unabridged desire
and, without further ceremony, buried her face into Davie's succulent
cunt and began to plant fervent kisses on the delicious flesh. Her
tongue was a hot poker as she squirmed lower on the sand to position
herself most effectively for the sucking feast she had begun.
Trish's tongue came in contact with the moist, hot clitoral bud and
she began to circle it tauntingly. In a reflex movement, her breath
escaping from between her teeth and her body consumed with raging
desire, Davie reached for the stewie's head and entwined her fingers in
the blonde tresses of her wanton seductress. Trish let her hands slide
upward again over the soft belly to Davie's firm breasts, cupping and
squeezing them greedily while she continued her oral assault on the
young girl's nether parts with her mouth and tongue.
"If Daddy could see her now!" Trish mused inwardly as she relished
the taste of Davie Knight's young cunt. She derived a spiteful
satisfaction from her prurient act, as well as a deeply pleasurable
one. Peter Knight was the one man she hadn't been able to fuck--as
yet. He had to play hard-to-get, with his formal, untouchable demeanor,
as though his cock was too good for the average woman. Most likely, it
was! But she was no average woman! And she intended to make damned
sure he found that out! Before she got through with him, he'd be
begging to tuck her pussy . . .
She took Davie's throbbing clit between her teeth and nipped it
gently while she ran her tongue around the heated little orb in
concentric circles. Davie cried out and tightened her grip on the
blonde's head as she writhed and bucked on the beach towel from the
waves of agonizing pleasure being transmitted through her flesh. Her
head was flailing from side to side in total abandonment to the obscene
act of tongue-fucking that was being perpetrated on her by the sexy,
older woman.
Trish opened her mouth still wider, moving her tongue downward
along the smooth furrow of the teen's slippery slit, wanting to devour
Davie's pussy; wanting to swallow it whole. She began to tongue fuck
her then, reaching as far into the secret hole of Davie's maiden vagina
as she could, delighting in the whimpering mewls of pleasure she was
evoking in the willing girl. If this was any indication of Davie's
capacity for turning on--and it certainly was--Randy would have smooth
sailing right up into her little channel! Really--there would be plenty
to go around for both of them!
Davie writhed and moaned from the incessant lickings and probings
into her moist, hot depths. The passion was mounting in her steadily,
and she knew she was very close to orgasm, very close to cumming right
on her friend's mouth! Maybe it was "dirty" . . . but it sure felt
incredibly good.
She was straining and twisting on the towel and she couldn't keep
herself from verbalizing her desires. "Ohh, ooooh, Trish, you're
driving me crazy. It feels so good, so exciting when you lick me that
way. Suck it . . . ohhhh suck iiiiittttt . . ."
And the stewardess obliged, her tongue becoming a slimy piston as
it drove in and out of the teen's hot, clasping vagina. Davie was more
than she had expected--much more! She was so hot herself that she
couldn't keep her fingers out of her own cunt, and she substituted the
thumb of one hand for the thumb and forefinger of the other to keep
Davie's cunt lips apart while she reached down and made digital contact
with her own fiery pussy, stroking her clit very rapidly, the heat of
impending orgasm roaring like an inferno through her flesh as she
desperately sought her own release.
It wouldn't be long now, for either of them.
And Peter Knight knew that, as he continued to watch the entire
erotic display from his sheltered hiding place among the dense, bushy
growth. His balls were close to bursting. The pain was excruciating.
Never in his life had he seen anything to equal the excitement generated
by those two beautiful women on the beach. Yes--two women. For he knew
he couldn't pretend Davie was a little girl any longer. She was very
young, yes. But she had a woman's body and a woman's sexual responses.
How could he bear to have her live with him as his little girl when he
was witnessing her as a young and desirable--and desired--woman?
Daughter or not, a female, particularly one like Davie, would drive him
out of his mind. That was a thing he couldn't cope with. The
alternative to a filial relationship with Davie was too unnatural to
even consider for a moment. And yet, he a ready had considered it, in
his fantasies. Oh God, why did she have to come to French Leave at
all! It might have been better for both of them if she had simply
stayed in New York . . .
His pretty daughter's cries of animal pleasure were becoming louder
and louder as the young woman continued to swirl and flick her tongue
around the velvet depths of Davie's pulsating vagina. Her firm buttocks
jerked and spasmed beneath the plunging tongue of the expert cunt
sucker. She was going to cum soon; the feeling was building and
building . . .
Trish, her own brain a bubbling cauldron of lust, flailed her
finger faster and faster against her throbbing clitoris as she
feverishly plunged her tongue in and out of her young friend's pussy.
Davie writhed and squirmed beneath the insane licking and sucking until
she thought she would scream from sheer ecstasy. Every muscle in her
body was tensed, and her long, sable-colored hair swept the towel as she
flailed her head wildly from side to side. She ground her crotch up
into the blonde's lusting face as the waves of rapture began to rise,
then gather, then crest until . . .
"Oooooh . . . oooooohhhh . . . I'm . . . c uuuuu mmmm iiiii nnnng!"
she shouted through the hoarse gasps of pleasure. She broke out in
goosebumps and rocked crazily on the beachtowel, her whole body a mass
of frayed electric cords that sent sizzling surges of ecstasy through
her. She drew the blonde head into her loins with all her might. Her
cunt juices inundated the stewie's face and tongue, flowing down along
the crease of Davie's trembling buttocks and pooling beneath her rectum
on the towel. Again and again she screamed out her delirium, and again
and again the invading tongue and lips brought her continued thrills. A
second later, Trish was screaming out her own orgasm and undulating on
the fine-grained sand, creating a human foxhole with her voluptuous,
climaxing body. Her oscillating finger sent wave after wave of orgasmic
pleasure through her body.
Peter Knight breathed into his hand to stifle the sound of his own
heated breathing, though the two climaxing females on the beach below
were hardly alert to sounds other than each other's cries. He felt
heartsick at what he had witnessed, but it was also the most unbearably
exciting spectacle he had ever witnessed. He suddenly remembered how
Francine had liked for him to go down on her. It was the one thing
sexual she did like, the bitch. And it was the one thing Davie and her
mother had in common, he thought ruefully. Then the devil voice spoke
again in his head: "Shrewd observation, Dr. Watson. Now, what are you
going to do about it? . . ."
He forced himself to lie perfectly quiet until the girls dashed to
the water for a swim. Then he backed down the dune and headed for the
Porshe, his mind a blur and his balls a bloated bag of thwarted desire
that screamed for merciful release.