RWS-149 Mother's New Boarder
[aka 'The Boarding House']
by Peter Jensen


Chapter 1

"I understand there's an apartment for rent over this store."

Marleen Franklin looked up from the counter she'd been cleaning, 
turning to look at the stranger who'd addressed her. He had a face 
which matched his warm, friendly, deep tone of voice; full and 
expressive with finely delineated lips and a rather prominent Classic 
Greek nose, and dark agate eyes. He was also big, with a massive chest 
and lean, tawny thighs; and he was tall, standing over six feet in his 
checkered wool shirt, faded Levi's, and Wellington boots.

Oddly, a faint embarrassment flushed Marleen's face, confusing her 
momentarily. "W-what?" she asked, flustered, brushing back a stray wisp 
of coal-black hair with her hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

She had, but his sudden presence in her store and the charisma that had 
hit her as she stared at him--it had taken her breath away, and she 
could feel her skin burning.

the man, not much older than her own thirty-six years, she estimated, 
grinned, and his eyes bored into her as if he knew that she'd heard him 
all along and was feeling so damned foolish. He said: "The room. I saw 
in the paper's want ads about the owner here having an apartment for 
rent. I'd like to see it."

"Why, yes ... yes, of course."

"M'name is Preston. David Preston, and I'm new here in Reedsport," he 
said as Marleen walked from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a 
dust cloth. "I'm hoping to find work."

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Preston. Reedsport is a growing community, 
especially with the new cannery. Is that what you do? Work with 
fishing?"

"Hardly," he replied with a chuckle. "I'm a diver. I'm going down to 
see the harbor dredging company. I know a man there who's promised me a 
job." He followed her as she walked down the aisle to a rear entrance. 
"One of the reasons I wanted to live here is because of this."

Preston waved his arm and gazed around at the tackle and dry bait, 
assorted poles, out-board motors, small boats, and other athletic 
equipment. "Who owns the sporting goods shop?"

"I do," Marleen said with a wry smile. "Does that surprise you? A woman 
owning a sports store?"

"Yeah," Preston smiled, eyeing her with a different appreciation. 
"Yeah, I have to admit it does. Then you'd be the Franklin I'm supposed 
to rent from, right?"

"Right. Marleen Franklin."

If Marleen had been stunned by the impact of meeting David Preston, 
similarly Preston was blinded by her, and he caught his breath as she 
continued to talk and was leading him gracefully to the back door. She 
was better looking than Gloria nine ways from Sunday, and must be smart 
as well, to run such a shop, he thought hungrily. Looking at her smooth 
rounded buttocks moving under that skirt; he had the impulsive urge to 
reach out and run his fingers over the lithe moons undulating so softly 
and teasingly ahead of him, and then to crush her shoulder-length hair, 
kiss her full, pouting lips and suck that pair of large, proudly-
cresting breasts that strained against her thin green blouse. She was 
beautiful, and he instinctively knew that she'd be hell on wheels in 
bed. She'd fuck. She'd fuck and fuck passionately, and his penis 
throbbed with impatient anticipation at the joys her wet, warm cunt 
could provide.

Sexy, obviously not bad off financially, and with the manners of 
unconscious yearning, the smell of a bitch in heat about her. As the 
ancient Chinese say: it is a happier state to sleep with a dead pig 
than an uncomplying woman ...

"My husband left it to me when he died," she went on to say. "He was 
drowned six years ago."

Preston licked his lips. Then she was alone ... no husband ... "I'm 
sorry to hear that, Mrs. Franklin. It must be rough to be alone and run 
the shop all by yourself."

"I have my daughter to help me. Speaking of her--" Marleen was standing 
just inside the rear entrance now, and on her right was a flight of 
stairs which led up to a hallway which ran the length of the back of 
the second floor. "Wendy!" she called up the stairs. "Wendy!"

A small, muffled voice cried back: "What is it, Mom?"

"Watch the store for a minute, will you?"

"Aw, Mom!"

"Don't 'aw, Mom' me, young girl. Do it."

There was a slam of a door, and then a young teenage girl, all of 
sixteen, bounded down the stairs. She wore brief black shorts rolled 
tight and even shorter against her smooth thighs, and her aqua blouse 
was open a button too low, the material clung to her budding but 
prominent breasts electrically. She was barefoot, her slim legs firm 
and downy golden with tan, and her auburn hair was drawn back tightly 
from her temples into a single long, thick braid which fell across her 
shoulder and bounced invitingly against her right breast.

Preston couldn't be sure, but it seemed to him that the daughter, 
Wendy, had hastily buttoned her blouse over her and that she wasn't 
wearing any bra underneath. Puckers were evident in the cloth about 
where her tiny, dark-ringed nipples would be. Christ! This would be 
some place to rent if he could ...

"Wendy, I want to show this gentleman the other apartment. I'll only be 
gone for a few minutes."

"Well, hurry," Wendy complained. "I want to get back out in the sun 
some more."

"You have the rest of summer to get a tan," Marleen said primly. "And 
you shouldn't be out on the porch without--" She hesitated, glancing 
quickly at Preston. "You know what I mean, Wendy."

"Aw, nobody can see," Wendy grumbled, walking into the store.

Marleen and Preston went up the stairs, and David was glad that the 
woman was in front of him, leading the way. His cock was now rock hard 
and pressing painfully against his underpants and trousers. First the 
mother, seductive ... and then the more blatant daughter, running 
around half naked after sunning topless on a porch. He stifled a groan 
of sheer lewdness. This was the hottest potential he'd stumbled into 
since he and a couple of buddies took three sisters out in the woods 
when he was in the Navy, and they all had turns on each other, the 
sisters holding hands the whole time ...

The apartment was small and the furniture used and cheap, but it was 
what he'd expected to find for the money he had, and it was clean. 
Which was more than he could say for the cockroach farm he was 
temporarily hoteled in. There was a combination livingroom and kitchen, 
the distinction between the two areas drawn by a dinette set lengthwise 
against one wall. The floor was carpeted in the Old Rose pattern 
popular with hotel lobbies, and the few pictures on the walls were 
strictly Woolworth Pastoral. Against the far wall was a gas heater, and 
when he looked in the bedroom, he was glad to see that the heater had a 
small duct to pipe hot air into it as well as the main room.

The bedroom--well, what was there to say about a bedroom? It had the 
usual double bed, closet, lamps and bureau. The rug was newer and a 
different color, but same pattern. He shut the door.

"There's a porch which is actually the roof of the storage room below," 
she said, nodding over her shoulder towards the hall and beyond. "You 
can't see it from here, but you get to it from either end of the 
hallway; there's doors leading out onto it."

"I'd like to see it if I may," Preston asked ...

The porch was railed and its flooring was of redwood slats. It had a 
magnificent view of the whole Reedsport harbor, of the frosty blue 
Pacific lapping gently against the sandy, boulder- and driftwood-strewn 
shore, of the verdant green lacery of trees and shrubs which enclosed 
the sheltered harbor like a crescent-shaped cove. To his left was the 
main part of Reedsport, a community of some twenty thousand, nestled in 
the heart of the fishing and timber producing area of fertile Northern 
California.

Reedsport was in between Crescent City and Eureka, and not much 
different than its sister town along the Oregon Coast further north. 
However, here the lumber mills and catch basins for the wood weren't in 
the immediate vicinity, so the air was fresh and clear and without the 
dull haze of burning sawdust. The cannery Marleen Franklin had referred 
to lay over the crest of a large hill, out of sight and smell, built 
along a sand and rock jetty, which had once been the home of an oyster 
processing plant during the Depression. Reedsport itself had a quiet 
but not sluggish atmosphere, the residents going about their affairs 
with civic pride and shrewd dignity, without the paranoiac hysteria 
which can so easily infect a growing area. Not the target for hordes of 
invading tourists, the zoning laws permitted motels and amusements only 
along the strip of US 101 Alternate, the old Coast Highway which ran 
through the center of town.

To his right, David Preston could see the residential area, sprawling 
for some distance around the peninsula, its homes covert and blended 
with the firs and pines and redwoods, showing logical and ecological 
building rather than the flattened bareness of tract developments. 
While the fishing harbor was at the bottom of the town and increasingly 
more at the Cannery, the bay was dotted with piers and boathouses of 
the shore-owners; Reedsport was the perfect mix of pleasure and 
business.

Directly ahead of him was the back yard of the sporting goods store. It 
also had a pier, a wooden finger of planks sticking out in the water; a 
klinker-built Thompson fourteen footer with some sort of outboard 
attached bobbing in the salty swell, covered with a green tarp: and 
high wood fences on both sides running from the building out into the 
water.

"Excellent," he said. "I really do want to stay here, Mrs. Franklin. Or 
... may I call you Marleen?"

His smile was so winning, his charm so overpowering, that again Marleen 
felt the heat of redness stain her cheeks. "I ... I suppose so."

"In that case, call me Dave."

"We haven't decided the details yet, Mr. Pre--Dave," Marleen said, 
feeling almost schoolgirlish at her silly way of responding toward this 
man. What was wrong with her? She was around men all day, running the 
shop the way she did ... She cleared her throat, getting a grip on 
herself. "The rent is seventy-five dollars a month, including 
utilities, first and last months payable before occupancy. And there's 
a deposit of fifty dollars which I'll refund when you move out."

"Deal," Preston said emphatically. "That is, if ..."

"Yes?"

"Well, one of the reasons I like your place is that it's fenced in 
back--"

"Naturally," Marleen broke in hastily. "I don't want burglars to break 
in the back or children to wander through and possibly hurt 
themselves." She realized that she was all but babbling, over-eager as 
if she wanted this strange man to move in, to be pleased and without 
any problems. What was the matter with her?

"Well, you see, I own a dog." He looked at her, trying to see her 
reaction. Dogs and little children screwed up more situations, 
including the renting of apartments. "He's a friendly cuss, loves 
people ..."

"We'd have to see him first of course, but personally I like dogs. I 
mean, if they're real dogs, and not those little dust-mops that run 
around biting ankles and yapping all the time."

Preston laughed warmly, and Marleen found herself joining in. "No, 
Marleen, this isn't a dust-mop. King is a German Shepherd, only he's 
not quite pure-bred. His mother was, but the kennel she was at didn't 
watch her well enough one season, and she mated with an Alaskan Husky. 
King was the result--almost all Shepherd, only a little shorter and 
thicker, and much more even tempered--and I got him for nothing. But 
he'll be a good watch-dog around here, especially if I can build him a 
kennel out there, maybe by the rear door there. He won't be any 
trouble, I promise."

"I'm sure he won't, David."

Preston opened his wallet, a battered and dog-eared brown leather with 
frosted-plastic picture windows and bits of paper stuck haphazardly to 
its pockets. He gave Mrs. Franklin two hundred dollars in twenties. 
"I'll move in this afternoon, if you don't mind. I don't have much 
stuff. It's all at the Buckingham Hotel, on--"

"I know the place," Marleen said, wrinkling her nose in disdain. God 
forgive the fancy name, it was over a garage, entered by a flight of 
stairs narrow and dark, open to the street. No door, no entry way, the 
place from the outside had the sleaziest look imaginable. Window shades 
were dirty and cracked and crooked, and the curtains, where they 
existed at all, were limp, bedraggled, and filthy. It was a fierce 
looking place, and Marleen had never been prompted to set foot in the 
place. But it was about the only reasonably priced place for transients 
in Reedsport, which didn't cater to "outsiders" much--beyond the 
expensive and garish motels along the Strip.

She took the money offered. "I'll write up a receipt later," she told 
him. "Your mail can be addressed to the store, and will be in with 
mine. I'll sort it." She handed Preston the key with which she'd opened 
the apartment door, telling him she'd air it out if he liked, and that 
there was a side entrance separate from the store at the foot of the 
stairs, connecting with an alley-way and gate leading to the sidewalk. 
"The key works the gate, too. You're free to come and go as you wish; 
I'm not a nosy woman.

"Good," he grinned, and she thought she caught a glimmer of risquness 
in his eyes. "I was afraid that you'd mind if I had, ah ... visitors 
now and then."

Visitors ... Polite euphemism for girls in his room. Mrs. Franklin 
found her throat suddenly constricting and a weird, loud pounding of 
breath in her chest. Girls, to make love with ... Her head whirled, but 
not with shock. That was the galling part--she was a good woman in her 
own mind, a respectable grass-roots widow with a child to raise, who 
had successfully placed sex in the back of her mind since her husband's 
death, and she should be shocked. But she wasn't. Stoically she had 
spent six years with only the memories of Howie's wonderful love-making 
and his delightful ways of causing her utmost joy, and though she'd 
been on dates now and then, there'd never been a man among the 
fishermen and other acquaintances she and her late Howie had known that 
had attracted her. Even then it wouldn't have meant sexual contact, for 
she would save herself for marriage, as she had the first time.

But as she looked up at the frank, open expression on David Preston's 
face, she felt no bitter and righteous indignation. She felt something 
in its place--what? It was a shock, then, a heart-quickening, blood-
pulsing shock to realize then what was causing the turmoil in her mind. 
She was saddened! She was standing there, having met a man for less 
than fifteen minutes, and she was dismayed to learn that he knew other 
women, that he was interested in making love to them instead of ... 
instead of her!

Mrs. Marleen Franklin, a woman who had always prided herself in being 
honest with herself above all, of accepting her frailties but 
determined to overcome them and be a strong and resourceful person, of 
taking on life's responsibilities and working without rancor for a 
better day, a happier life, felt her body quiver inside, though its 
fleshy shell of skin remained motionless, if slightly blushing. She was 
actually jealous of the other women in her new boarder, David 
Preston's, life, and that was a bruise to her disciplined morality.

No, she couldn't turn him out, not for being a man. And what a man he 
was, she had to admit, a secret tingling of excitement spreading 
through her loins. He stood in a lord-like, animalistic splendor, not 
arrogance or cruel maliciousness--only with the innate healthiness of 
an earthy, hedonistically-oriented male. He took his women, a modern-
day Ghengis-Khan or Viking; from his flaxen, wavy hair down to his 
strong, muscular legs, he was the conqueror. No, she couldn't turn him 
out or deny him his physical pleasure any more than the maidens of Rome 
could do anything but melt to the ravishments of the Visgoth 
barbarians. She couldn't, because the pure and basic magnetism between 
a man--a true man--and a healthy woman wouldn't allow it. She felt this 
without knowing it, without admitting it.

Her mind, a product of puritanical society, was no match for her body, 
the evolution of hundreds of thousands of years of instinct. Adam and 
Eve didn't worry about proprieties, only about the heat and needs of 
one another, and their mingling seeds had been refined and 
sophisticated, but were still the foundation for both Marleen and 
David.

Dizzily, she heard herself reply in a way which an hour ago she would 
have labeled as impossible. From a mouth which seemed not her own, came 
the echoing words: "I'm an adult, David, and once was happily married. 
Have your visitors as often as you like, but all I ask is that you be 
discreet. Not for my sake as much as for my daughter's."

"I understand," Preston said huskily.

Marleen returned to managing the shop after David Preston left. She 
took care of the customers in a peripheral, dazed way, her mind still 
charged with the emotion of meeting a man who attracted her 
tremendously, who had awakened her drives and needs and made her aware 
that she was a woman. It was a tremendous jolt to her nervous system, 
and though she had no intention of throwing herself at him, or even of 
being other than the distant, courteous, and civil neighbor and 
landlady that she had always been with her tenants, she still couldn't 
get the piquancy of his masculinity out of her nostrils or the tight 
band of jealousy from around her chest.

She ached, and her firm inner thighs and pubic mound swelled with 
heated blood ... the blood of unwanted, subconscious arousal. It scared 
her, and she solidly resolved not to let David Preston know how he'd 
affected her, or let herself go beyond this stage of, she thought, mild 
interest.

*   *   *

Night had settled on Reedsport. From the set of three small-paned 
windows overlooking the street, David Preston stared out at the 
building across from the sporting goods shop and his apartment. Not 
that there was anything especially to see--the building was an old grey 
stucco apartment house, and the few windows that were lighted were 
covered with curtains and shades. The street was empty below, and only 
faintly could he hear the crumbling surf from the ocean behind him and 
the occasional bark of King in the yard.

His eyes weren't particularly focused on the non-existent events 
anyway; his thoughts were turned inward, and he was mulling over and 
over the fantastic luck at finding this apartment, and the desirability 
of his new landlady. Not to mention her daughter! Sweet, virginal 
pussy--it was enough to make his balls explode, just thinking about it! 
He'd fuck them both, given the opportunity, and as he stood there in 
contemplation, he decided to let fate have a few nudges so that the 
opportunities might present themselves.

"Davy-boy," a high yet throaty voice said to him. "You want a beer?"

He didn't turn. "Mm."

"Well, do you?"

He turned then, and smiled. "Sure, Gloria. Sure, I'd love one."

"Me too. Boy, is it hot, especially after all this moving."

Preston watched her as she walked to the kitchen and opened the small 
refrigerator, comparing her body from behind mentally with Marleen 
Franklin's. Gloria Talbot came out damned good, but second place. Not 
because of her body, which was actually lusher than the Franklin 
woman's well-proportioned form, or her walk--it was the other things, 
he decided. The things which make a relationship lasting and never 
boring; but from the sexual aspect, Gloria had been one of the finest 
swingers he'd ever picked up.

She was bending over, picking out the two cans of beer, her perfectly 
proportioned buttocks tight in a pair of shorts shorter than the ones 
young Wendy Franklin had been wearing. She wore a white velour blouse 
and a half-bra which thrust her magnificent, globular breasts out, 
their upper portions clearly visible as being bare almost to her pink 
nipples. Seductive, that way. Her legs were the kind he never tired of 
running his hands along, and her back was smooth and creamy, and he 
could span her waist with both of his hands, flaring into thighs and 
hips that were invitingly succulent in their shape.

Then she straightened languidly, a beautiful feline cat, and opened the 
snap-tabs over the sink to catch the foam. She swiveled around, 
thrusting her hip out slightly, and extended her hand, which held one 
of the beers.

"Here, lover ..."

"Not there," he replied, feeling the stirrings of sexual arousal in his 
gut. Damn, she could always do this to him, always, even in opening a 
God-forsaken can of beer. She was a walking sex machine, he thought 
lustily. Absolutely without scruples or restraints, and her eyes 
sparkled as she undulated seductively toward him, her expression of 
promised salaciousness, and he knew that she was primed and ready for 
him to make love to her. No, not to make love to; to fuck.

And that was the main difference between Gloria Talbot and Marleen 
Franklin, and what made Gloria runner-up in his private contest. 
Preston demanded a challenge, a game in which he could pit his 
experience and cunning against a woman's pride and virtue. He loved the 
searching for clues and vulnerabilities and making the adjustments, the 
inexorable moving into intimate channels, retreating and advancing with 
skill and daring, chancing his abilities against hers. Marleen Franklin 
had that air of steadiness and sincerity about her which promised such 
action and made him want to give chase. The tension of the chase 
excited him, answering a need to master the female sex. He'd been a 
scrawny little bastard in school, a thyroid condition preventing him 
from developing when his friends had, and the girls had totally ignored 
him; when he had found a few years later that girls were attracted to 
him, once he had grown, he'd been afflicted by the subconscious drive 
to compete, to continually prove to himself that he was a man.

Gloria Talbot had been sitting in a bar, hungry for a man, when he'd 
met her up in Portland, Oregon, hungry but not starving. The bar had 
been smoke-fogged and Preston had been whisky-dulled, yet there had 
never been a question in his mind as to whether she would or wouldn't; 
only the one as to how good she'd be, and a single look at her had 
assured him that she'd be active and tasty. He'd known she'd put out--
it was in her eyes, the loose, cock-sucker quality of her smile, the 
way she would move her long, too-yellow hair back over her ears with a 
movement of her arm and head that made her breasts jiggle slightly. 
That had been four months ago, and she'd been with him ever since, an 
awful lot of woman for a guy that was practically broke and living the 
ramshackle life. She was the best thing that had come along, up to now, 
up to when he'd met the Franklins, mother and daughter ...

"Here, Davy-boy," she purred. "Let's take them in the bedroom."

"In a minute."

"Now ..."

He laughed and put his arms around her, against the soft muscles of her 
back, and sliding his hands down, he cupped one full, hardening breast. 
"Aren't you tired after carrying all my things up here?"

"Yes, but not that tired."

"When are you moving in with your brother and sister-in-law?" That was 
one of the reasons he'd ended up in Reedsport. He was a diver by 
profession, but he didn't know anybody at the dredging company, the 
latter a white lie to allay any fears about him drifting that Marleen 
Franklin might have had. But Gloria knew some people, including her 
brother, and Reedsport was an excellent town in which to find a job, so 
when she had said she was heading south, Preston had decided to go 
along. Nothing to lose--he'd just been blackballed from the Union in 
Portland.

"Tomorrow," she replied. "But let's think about tonight."

He laughed again and let his hands rove further down, around her 
slender waist and onto the roundness of her quivering buttocks. The 
shorts were so tight that he could tell that she wasn't wearing any 
panties underneath--there wasn't the tell-tale ridge of elastic.

"Don't you ever wear panties?"

"I can't afford to lose any more of them, and you keep ripping them off 
of me," she said and pouted in mock anger. "I'm down to Saturday, 
Sunday, and Monday." She was talking about the set of French Day-of-
the-Week panties that he'd bought for her as a present some time ago. 
"Thursday was torn beyond repair."

"Sorry about that," he chuckled and kissed her. Her lips were parted 
and wet, and she did some wild motions with her tongue, making him 
suddenly feverish with desire, and she ground her pelvis into his 
loins, her pubic mound pushing circularly against his penis, which grew 
hard with impending lust. He began to breathe harshly, and then with 
the coyness of her teasing ways, she broke his clasp and stood back, 
letting her wet pink tongue slowly moisten her soft, full lips. 
Provocatively, Gloria unbuttoned her blouse and let him gaze lewdly at 
her burgeoning globes which trembled in their barely sufficient halter. 
She let her blouse hang open, and then she unbuttoned his shirt and she 
pressed her warm breasts against his naked chest, writhing a little as 
she kissed him ardently. He'd seen and possessed her body innumerable 
times, and they both knew what positions they liked, what foreplay they 
liked, what would turn each of them on and off, but Gloria was 
practiced and charming and could somehow make each time seem the first 
time. It was incredible and uncanny to him how she could do it, and a 
hell of good substitute for the desire to conquer which ran so strongly 
through him. And he could do anything to her he wanted in bed, and she 
loved it; she loved cock. She wouldn't do one trick he'd ever asked 
her, but then few women would. Which was too bad, because the ones who 
did loved it.

Yes, it was too bad that Gloria wasn't a virginal, naturally reluctant 
woman--but then, once a woman had let her passion overcome her 
inclinations, she never was. And it was too bad that Gloria didn't like 
King. As David Preston had told her: love me, love my dog ...

But at that moment, fired with the building heat of his loins, his 
penis and testicles swollen and painful with arousal that wanted to 
burst the confines of his clothes and spew orgasmically into the 
hungry, wet tunnel of Gloria's hotly sticking vagina, he didn't care 
about her drawbacks. He reached for the button and zipper on her 
shorts, but she stopped him.

"The bedroom, Davy-boy. Let's try out your new mattress, hmmm? Let's 
throw our own, private little housewarming party. Just you and me and 
that lovely big cock of yours ..."

They entered the bedroom and Preston took his shirt and threw it on the 
room's single chair and Gloria slid her blouse off, using her palms, 
and rotating her loins salaciously as she inched the tight shorts down 
along her long, curvaceous legs until they lay puddled at her now shoe-
less feet. Her eyes were heavily lidded and smoky, and she watched his 
face intensely as she undressed, reaching behind her and unhooking her 
bra, pulling the sheer, white cups away from her firm breasts slowly, 
making sure that the aroused, berry-sized nipples were the last to meet 
his hot, flickering gaze. She dropped the bra on her shorts and then 
raised her hands to mold her full, rich mounds, kneading them the way 
he would be doing soon.

"You're slow, Davy-boy," she whispered. "Take off your pants and let me 
see that hard cock of yours."

"Christ, you fucking whore!" Preston exploded with an evil grin. Gloria 
reveled in his lustful words and leering, hot eyes for a long moment, 
and then she stepped over to the bed and pulled the coverlet down to 
lie on the blankets and spread her legs wide in a wanton, provoking 
position, exposing to his eyes the total expanse of her wet cuntal 
slit. She rotated her hips lasciviously, arching them up and down in a 
measured, intoxicating way. Preston threw his pants across the room and 
stood over the bed with his great, trembling penis standing from his 
groin in full erection, the unseeing eyes of its glans oozing thin 
clear droplets of lubrication. And Gloria stared at his rod-hard cock, 
moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue as if tasting the 
seeping fluid already, as if it was deliciously swirling around in the 
warm, sucking cavern of her mouth.

"Come on," she urged heatedly, "lie down beside me, Davy-boy and see 
what happens next."

"What?"

"I'm going to take that big cock of yours and suck it dry, suck every 
drop of hot cum right out of it."

Shit! Preston thought, she can really turn me on. His prick throbbed as 
he sat down beside her, and she snaked out her hand and encircled his 
cock, beginning to stroke it up and down and massage its turgid length, 
rubbing the shaft and cradling her hand underneath his testicles 
slightly, caressing them softly, like precious jewels in her palm. He 
groaned with the pleasure of her touch, and lay down, stretching out 
lengthwise alongside her palpitating, hot flesh, letting her manipulate 
his cock with expertise until he thought it would shoot off all by 
itself, without ever letting her suck it.

She rose up in a kneeling position, her tongue still flicking along her 
lips, her eyes resting feverishly on his loins, and then she began to 
trail soft, moist kisses across the girth of his large, well-muscled 
belly, making him groan uncontrollably again and raise his hips upwards 
from the stimulations she was sending through his body. Her fingernails 
scratched lightly over his cock now and then they reached downwards, 
probing briefly at the puckered ring of his anus, retracing their path 
back to his straining, quivering penis.

"Goddamn it, Gloria, suck it! Suck it before it goes off by itself!" He 
thrust upwards, his head lifted so that he could look down at her lust 
contorted features as her beautiful face was poised over his blunt 
cock-head, and he could feel his semen boiling in his testicles, and 
knew it wouldn't be long before it would come spewing out of his shaft 
like a flow of molten lava. "Hurry, hurry!" he begged. "Suck it, baby, 
suck it!"

In obeisance, the woman plunged her head downwards, and Preston felt 
the incredible, hot moist softness of her lips close over the sensitive 
flesh of his cock, felt her firebrand tongue lick circles of liquid 
flame around and around it, flicking into the glans opening and 
swallowing the beginning drops of his seminal fluid. He entangled his 
grasping hands in her blonde hair tightly, and guided her as he jerked 
upwards, and he drove the entire length of his massive penis deep into 
the warm, butter-smooth folds of her mouth, feeling his cockhead graze 
against the back of her throat.

"Mmmmmmm!" she mewled around his hardened rod of flesh.

"Ahhhhhh!" he cried out in lust-crazed agreement. "That's it, baby! 
Stroke a little, too! That's it! That's it! Run your fingers along my 
balls ... easy, damnit! Ahhhhh!"

And through the paper-thin walls, in the bedroom next door, Mrs. 
Marleen Franklin sat up in her bed, listening. She was recoiled in 
abject revulsion, her breath catching in her throat, for she couldn't 
believe what she had been hearing. Dear God, this new tenant, this 
David Preston, was forcing a woman to perform the debasing act of ... 
of ... she couldn't bring herself to mentally say the word! It was a 
perversion, an act which only filthy old men and whores engaged in! 
What kind of man had she allowed to rent the apartment!

She sunk back on the covers, a disappointed and thoroughly confused 
woman ...



Chapter 2


Wendy Franklin was very close to her mother. With her father dead for 
many years, the two of them could have split apart, as so often and 
tragically happens, but her mother had always been fair and 
understanding, directing without being domineering, and above all, 
loving.

And Wendy loved her mother deeply in return. Her mother might be old 
and no longer interested in men, for example, but she had once been 
young and knew what it was like to be Wendy's age. She allowed her to 
go out on dates and lots of other things without a bunch of silly 
regulations some of the other mothers placed on their kids--like being 
home from a school prom at midnight, and not allowing the girls to go 
on anything but double dates. Her mother had always insisted that the 
mark of maturity was trust, and so she made sure that her daughter was 
instilled with the proper ethics and morals and then trusted her to do 
the right thing. She never tried to cling to her growing child, nor 
constantly think in terms of her as her "baby," and was more than 
pleased when Wendy was interested in the ways and morals of sex and 
reproduction, of explaining the mysteries of monthly cycles when Wendy 
had first begun to menstruate when she was eleven, went out of her way 
to buy training bras and then larger ones as Wendy developed.

There was no false prudery between them; they'd seen each other naked, 
and had once even taken a shower together, but again, her mother was a 
modest woman, and taught Wendy the healthy outlook to like her body and 
hold it ready in pride for a man she loved to take. And in the course 
of dating and going steady, Wendy had been aroused to seething, panting 
excitement by a boy's touches and kisses, been driven to almost the 
point of total abandonment by her sexual instincts, which were alive 
and always seemed just below her surface. But that was the difference: 
almost. Her mother's love and trust and honor had always stuck somehow, 
and Wendy Franklin was still a virgin, unlike most of her class-mates, 
vowing to save her cherished gift of sex for the right man--the man she 
would love and who would love her enough in return to slip a gold ring 
on her finger first. Sometimes, after a long drive-in movie or heavy 
petting up in the woods in a car, it took everything she held dear for 
her to stop, to fight off her urges and the boy and will herself back 
to calmness so that she could control her passions.

So she loved her mother, respected her and stayed chaste because of 
her, and while she complained and fought now and then as any two people 
will do when together, she understood and appreciated the strain and 
burden that raising a daughter single-handedly can bring. Like that 
afternoon, for example, when that adorable man came to rent the 
apartment. She bitched and moaned about having to dress and watch the 
shop, and her Mother snapped back at her, but it meant nothing. It was 
just part of their way, and let the steam out, for when the big 
problems arose, they were always together, always communicating. No 
generation gap between them!

Wendy thought of this as she stood in the livingroom of Clyde Brook's 
home, looking at Clyde and then at herself, both of them chilled and 
drenched to the skin and tipsy from drinking too much. What would her 
mother say if she saw her daughter like this! What was she going to 
say, because of course Wendy was going to relate this silly situation 
to her first thing tomorrow.

Clyde looked like a drowned rat, and a very unhappy and mournful one at 
that, she thought, choking down a giggle. It wouldn't do to laugh at 
him, she knew; Clyde was a very proud boy, and was her latest beau, and 
a swell catch. After all, she was only a junior--or would be that 
September when school started again, and Clyde had graduated last June. 
He was going to college in Los Angeles, so their two-month romance 
would be cooled to nothing in another two months when he left--but in 
the meantime, he was the mayor's son, lived right on the best part of 
the shore, up by the Point, and had spent lots of time and money on 
her. She was the envy of her friends and she was always thrilled when 
he took her out in his little red sports car, and to make it even 
better, Clyde was a groovy, foxy-looking guy who was very popular and 
"In." He was tall and muscular, with brown hair cut long and pale-grey 
eyes stink deep in prominent cheekbones. His nose had a crazy little 
bend to it after it had been broken in a football game--he'd been the 
high school's fullback, and known as "Battlin' Brooks"--and a crooked 
smile which was both captivating and somehow guileless.

And at the moment, he, like Wendy, was making a dark wet pool of sea-
water on the expensive carpet in his father's home. He was chagrined 
and red in the face, angry at himself and very, very tender to any 
comments. She'd soon found that out about him, his egotistical 
tenderness, and curbed her often biting and sarcastic tongue when she 
was with him, and after the events that had happened already tonight, 
she didn't want anything to go wrong. But, still, it was funny, and how 
differently the evening had begun a few short hours before ...

After her mother had come downstairs and told her that the man--what 
was his name? David Prescott? No, Preston--had rented the apartment 
next door, she returned to sunning herself, stripping off her blouse 
and lying on the porch on a grass mat, letting her breasts soak up the 
tanning rays of the hot late June sun. It was titillating to think what 
the girls in the shower room would say when she returned in the Fall 
with a golden glow all over, with only her dark brown nipples accent 
points on her otherwise evenly tanned young body. They'd eat their 
hearts out, just like they did because she was dating Clyde, and she'd 
never let on that she'd gotten the tan innocently, either, and not on 
the deck of Old Man Brook's mansion, or out in the water with Clyde.

And then she showered, still tingling from the excitement of the 
simulated wickedness which lying out there nearly nude had given her, 
and went into her little bedroom to dress. Her room was hardly big 
enough for her bed and wardrobe, but unlike the single bedroom 
apartment her mother rented, she at least had her privacy this way, and 
she never considered complaining about the inadequacies. She wasn't 
that kind of girl, and was simply happy that her mother was able to 
make the sporting goods shop make money. Her mother had never said so, 
but Wendy had the feeling that she was scrimping and saving to send her 
to college, though Wendy was having serious doubts that she wanted to 
go. Secretarial school, perhaps, or something like that, but college 
never really interested her much, and she had been thinking about 
asking her mother if she could maybe work in the shop after she 
graduated and continue her real interest: sports. Both her parents had 
been athletic and her father had been a tremendous fisherman--not 
commercially, but only for pleasure--and it had only been a fluke that 
she hadn't gone along on the salmon trawler with him that fateful day 
he'd drowned. Mother, with the store to run and everything else, had 
not been able since then to do much though she liked to fish and hunt 
as much as Wendy's father had, and Wendy, weaned on books and fly-
casting and shotgun powder, wanted to be able to be around that kind of 
life, and perhaps, she thought while she dressed that afternoon, she 
could work with her mother in such a way as to allow them enough free 
time to do the things they liked ...

Wendy Franklin, not exactly alike physically with her mother, had the 
same interests, the same concerns, the same filial bonds; she 
considered her loving and devoted attitude only natural, and never gave 
it a second thought. But it was stronger than she suspected, than 
either of them suspected--

She put on a nude-look, flesh-colored bra and panties, the panties snug 
tight and shockingly sheer around her buttocks and the soft mound of 
her young, virginal pussy. She looked in the mirror and saw the panties 
crease in the crevice between her cunt lips, accentuate them with an 
indecent line which ran between the elastic band down to her vaginal 
area and slipped between her firm, naked thighs. A moment of tiny 
misgivings crossed her mind, her body somehow more blatantly sexual 
than pure nudity, and then she quickly put on her thin, frilly rayon 
blouse and darker green mini-skirt. Her bra showed through the blouse 
and the hem of her skirt was high enough so that when she wasn't 
careful, her barely clad buttocks and upper thighs were visible, and 
though she was dressed, she still gave off the aura of being without 
anything. A good, summer outfit, she thought; good for keeping a boy 
like Clyde Brooks interested in her.

Interested--but not successful in his desire to make love to her. She'd 
handle him if he got too passionate, just as she always had, she 
thought as she waited for him to pick her up. He'd be here at seven, as 
he had every night, and they'd go to a movie or ride around or dance or 
whatever, and eventually they'd start necking. She liked necking with 
him, and had even gone so far as to let him play with her titties; she 
sat in the livingroom and blushed at the remembrance of that incident. 
The Sunday before she'd been out in his father's cruiser, sunbathing 
with Clyde beside her, and they'd began kissing, kissing until she'd 
felt the hardened bulge in his swim trunks against her thighs. She 
remembered his strong but gentle hands on her bikini top, and how after 
a while she'd made no attempt to stop him from undoing the straps, and 
the tender tingling sensations of his fingers as he'd traced over her 
hot, naked flesh and then kissed her exposed, hardening nipples. A 
dryness crept in her throat at the recollection, and how close she'd 
come to not stopping his hand as it had continued to wander, tauting 
her flat, pulsating stomach madly, down to the thin wisp of her bikini 
bottom, attempting to pull them off. She'd made the big effort then, 
and they'd argued; he'd threatened, cajoled, and at last, had pleaded, 
but in the end, he'd gotten up disgustedly and walked around the deck, 
smoking a cigarette.

She'd had only the uncomfortable wetness between her legs to remind her 
of how close to the edge she'd strayed, and as she sat and waited for 
him to come this evening, she'd made a resolution to never let it 
happen again.

So far, this evening wasn't presenting any threat to her virginity. His 
parents were out, so they came to the house, raiding the pantry for 
dinner, which she cooked, and the liquor cabinet for some wine. A 
couple of bottles later, she wanted fresh air and he wanted to go out 
in the cruiser, and they walked down to the dock and boat-house, where 
he carefully and with studied slowness removed the tarp and started the 
inboard engine. Then he climbed on the boathouse dock, took her hand in 
an exaggerated courtly bow, and lost his footing, falling in the water 
beside the boat, taking her with him. Now they were back in the house, 
sopping messes, and she felt like laughing. It was so stupid of him, 
and yet so human, and it made her like Clyde all the more.

"I'm drenched," she heard herself say thickly, still giddy from wine.

"Lord, I can't let you go home like that, Wendy. Your mother would kill 
me. I mean, we've drunk too much and show it, too."

"No, she'd understand."

"Maybe, but I don't want to take the chance. Anyway, the night's still 
young, and once you dry off, we can go do something else."

"I can't stay in these things," she noted, holding up a part of her 
sopping skirt in emphasis. "I'll catch my death of cold. I'll have to 
go home first."

"No, you don't. You can use the guest room and take all your things 
off. There's a bathrobe in there and towels in the john, and I'll go 
upstairs and change myself. A couple of minutes in front of the heater 
and everything will be toasted dry. Hell, that stuff you're wearing is 
drip-dry, isn't it?"

Wendy cocked an eyebrow. "No funny business?"

"Hell, I can't promise that," he said impishly. "Not with the cutest 
girl in Reedsport running half-naked around my father's house. What 
kind of red-blooded American boy do you think I am?"

"Well, in that case--"

"But," he continued, "you'll have more on with that bathrobe and what-
all than when you're in your bathing suit. And I'll be changed."

"I recall what happened to me when I was in my bikini," she said wryly, 
then put her hands on her hips jauntily and eyed him, her head tilted 
to one side. "Still, I handled you then ... I guess I can handle you 
again."

It was all in fun, this teasing, and helped soothe his wounded pride, 
and she knew that it would be a mistake to demand that he take her 
home. Besides, it gave her a certain sensation of excitement at the 
thought of being near-nude around him in a bathrobe, a little bit of 
prurient mischievousness that appealed to her sporting nature. She let 
her boy-friend lead her to the guest room and show her where everything 
was, and then he shut the door. In the bathroom, she undressed quickly, 
stripping the cold wet garments from her skin and grabbing a towel to 
rub herself. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the back of the 
door and paused to study the naked image she made, her creamy-smooth 
skin now a reddish hue from her rubbing. She sat on the edge of the tub 
and dried her feet, and the soft, silky hair curling in the triangle of 
her young, innocent vagina caught her eye. The wine was still in her 
blood, had made her just reckless enough to agree to this absurdity of 
removing her clothes, and she suddenly felt very hot. God, she was 
going to have coffee from now on tonight, because she was going to have 
to keep her head ...

Suddenly she bolted upright and held the towel in front of her, for the 
bathroom door had opened and Clyde stood in the entrance wearing only a 
tight pair of underpants.

"Clyde! You promised!"

He came toward her, shaking his head. "No, I didn't," he grinned 
maliciously, and she saw the heavy sag in the front of his shorts and 
the big protuberance pointing in her direction through the stretched 
cloth. Before she could protest further, he was tugging the towel away 
from her and gathering her into his arms, her naked flesh pressing 
tightly against him as he kissed her with fury, flattening and 
spreading her lips open until she uncontrollably splurged her tongue 
into his mouth. A frightened hollowness came alive in the pit of her 
stomach, and she felt herself being transported out and across to the 
large double bed of the guest room, where he laid her gently on the 
coverlet.

His hands commenced to explore her defenseless body as they had the 
previous Sunday, only this time there was no hindering piece of cloth 
to stop them from reaching her tingling pussy. They caressed her 
swelling breasts, and she felt the nipples distend, and then he sucked 
one into his searching mouth, causing her to whine feebly.

"No ... No, Clyde," she begged, sensing the danger.

But it was as if she'd never spoken, his hands prowling with insane 
intensity over her ribs and belly, brushing the velvety pubic hair 
until she prickled between her legs and tried to squirm away. Still his 
fingers followed, splaying the tender lips of her virginal young cunt 
and he did his mouth upon her own, and she groaned against him, unable 
to contain herself as she writhed on his touch and embrace.

"Clyde ... Oh God, Clyde, we mustn't!" she panted into his face. "You 
know we mustn't!"

He slipped out of his shorts and she heard him breathe harshly at his 
own nakedness, and felt the huge, hot throbbing of his exposed penis 
press into the smooth flesh of her hip. His fingers continued their 
assault on her tingling vaginal passage, burrowing deeper and deeper, 
and she jerked and tossed, a soul-searing moan escaping from her chest 
as she arched her young body and rolled her head from side to side and 
ground her sweat-beaded, trembling white thighs down into the mattress 
in a vain attempt to escape his worming finger down between her legs.

"No, no, no," she chanted, gnashing her teeth as the word ricocheted 
around the walls of her mind, knowing she must stop him but not knowing 
how. His penis slid down over her trembling belly, closer to the softly 
fuzzed furrow where his hand was spreading the thin, slightly throbbing 
lips wider and wider, but when she clamped her thighs together in 
protest, she sucked in a gasp of hot air for his fingers, trapped in 
the hair-covered lips of her vagina, were suddenly all the more 
tantalizing. He flicked the tip of her erect clitoris, teasing it and 
sending insane spasms through her whole body, and she found to her 
anguish and dismay that no longer would her flesh obey her mind; her 
cunt splayed open, her legs widening on their own, and he thrust his 
fingers deep into the pink, moist, demanding hole of her smooth, 
throbbing passage.

"Ohhhh," a long groan gurgled from deep in her throat, and she heard 
herself moaning: "You've got to stop, Clyde ... You can't ... No, no 
..." And to her amazement and confused horror, he took her unresisting 
hand and placed it on the fleshy shaft of his cock and when he moved 
his hand back to her pulsating vagina, she let her fingers remain 
there, on his penis! She'd never seen a naked, aroused man before 
tonight, much less felt one's cock!

God, it was enormous! She'd never been aware of their size before, only 
having seen small boys' penises when she'd baby-sat and had to change 
their diapers. It would kill her if she allowed him to put it inside 
her, it would split her tiny, unstretched pussy right up the middle! 
But the feel of it pulsing with heated passion in her hand was a 
delight to her, and instinctively, she began to stroke and massage it, 
rubbing the firm skin back and forth, and with the boldness of her 
actions blending with curiosity, she couldn't keep herself from moving 
her other hand and feeling his testicles, their hairiness and silky 
texture, and with loving abandon she held them in her palm. Clyde was 
grunting, his mouth firmly on hers, and she felt a wetness between her 
thighs where his cock-head was throbbing against her, and she wondered 
if he'd cum. No ... his penis was still hard as concrete; it must be 
the lubricant that men produce ...

"Wendy ... Wendy, I've got to have you!" he gasped frantically.

"No, god, no ..." she moaned, the shock of his plans sending lewd 
excitement through her, and her pussy quivered with her physical desire 
for him. She wanted him ... she wanted that huge penis she was holding 
to bury itself deep, deep up in her trembling belly. God, how she 
wanted him!

"Wendy ... Wendy, I can't wait any longer ..."

He rolled on top of her and tried to lever his swollen cock between her 
thighs, down where his fingers were still massaging her inflamed, pink 
flesh. She kissed him hard as he continued thrusting down through the 
upper portion of her wet, hair-lined slit, fighting madly to reach the 
mouth of her smooth, virginal passage, his every stroke sending wild 
sensations through her as his cock-head rubbed the erect bud of her 
clitoris.

Then, once again, something snapped inside her brain, making her revolt 
from the act she was about to commit. His long, hard penis bearing down 
in determined concentration against the softness of her tender thighs 
and pulsating, but still intact cunt sent warning signals charging to 
her mind, its physical touch awakening her and breaking through the 
haze of wine-induced abandonment. The nearly forgotten vestiges of her 
principles, the morality her mother had taught her to hold sacred, came 
rushing back to her with tidal wave force, even as her young pussy 
angled upwards in its own betrayal to her prurient desires.

"No! No, Clyde, stop! I won't let you!"

"Damn you! You can't! You can't! I'm ready to cum! Don't chicken out, 
baby ... you'll love it! Ohhhh!"

She pleaded, but he didn't seem to hear or care, and she reached down 
between them and took his hardened cock in her hands and squeezed it 
only seconds before he would have entered her with his thrusting, 
pummeling shaft.

"Ahhhh! You bitch! You teasing little bitch!" he groaned at her. "I'm 
cumming! God damn it, I'm cumming!"

As she grasped the thick, ramming penis and he continued to pump 
wildly, and cry out harshly, she felt his cock expand and contract in 
her clutching hands, and the helpless gasps of passion poured out of 
him. Hot sticky fluid spurted and soaked her white thighs and matted 
her soft curly pubic hair, running down the open crevice of soft pink 
flesh he had almost succeeded in conquering, pooling on the bedspread 
between her open buttocks. He collapsed on top of her, sobbing and 
spasming, and she warmly caressed his cock, letting the last of his cum 
drain out of her vaginal slit in a wanton display of perversion.

Slowly he sat up, not looking at her. He eased over to the side of the 
bed and let his feet touch the floor, and then he rose and took his 
underpants from the carpet and wiped himself. He threw the damp, soaked 
pants at her, and sneered: "You bitch. What a miserable thing to do to 
a guy. You're nothing but a prick-teaser."

Wendy, ashamed and humiliated beyond endurance, felt the sting of his 
castigation and tears welled in her eyes. "Clyde--"

"Shut up. Just shut up, will you? Clean yourself up and I'll take you 
home." His words were spit out as if he was talking to a street whore 
of the lowest kind. "I don't know what ever made me want to waste my 
time with a little baby like you."

He pivoted on his heel and stalked out the door, slamming it behind 
him, his loathing and disgust a thick, heavy entity in the room long 
after he'd left. Wendy sat in utter mortification and desolation for a 
long moment, her heart and soul tormented to their extremes. She took 
the sodden underpants he'd thrown at her and wiped her nakedness, 
opening her legs to clean the sticky, white seed from her vagina and 
burning loins, the pain in her unsatisfied and still seething tender 
pussy almost as much a sore reminder of what she had almost lost--and 
what she had lost in the way of a boy-friend by her refusal--as the 
persistent ache in her mind.

Slowly and disheartedly, Wendy rose from the bed and went into the 
bathroom to retrieve her clothes. Her mind whirled with doubts and 
self-abasement, a torturing melange of hating herself for almost 
succumbing, for allowing herself to get so carried away, for not 
letting Clyde fuck her and thereby keep him ... God, what should she 
have done? What was the right way, the best way? The noble words of her 
mother's philosophy sounded extremely hollow in her ears at that 
moment, the victory for her virginity a Phyrric one at best ...

She'd talk to her mother when she got home. Mother would know what was 
the best thing for her to have done ... and do ...



Chapter 3


Marleen Franklin closed the shop at seven o'clock, five minutes after 
Wendy's current boyfriend, Clyde Brooks, picked her daughter up in his 
sports car. She thought of Wendy as she walked up to the dark and empty 
apartment after she'd done the ledgers for the day, thought of how much 
a boon and companion she'd been as well as a child of which to be 
proud. She wasn't worried about Wendy being with boys; the doctor had 
assured her that Wendy was still a virgin as of the last checkup, and 
she was a good girl by nature. Marleen was well aware of the traps and 
snares young people could fall into in this day and age, and she was 
doing her best to keep Wendy from falling into any of them. She'd 
thought she'd fairly well succeeded, and looked forward to the day when 
Wendy would be an equal, an adult and mature, and no longer her little 
child.

Not that Wendy was a child any longer; one look at her in the shower 
and soaping her full-shaped breasts or now matured vaginal area told 
her that. And Marleen had looked, and looked whenever Wendy was 
displaying herself, because she was proud of having produced such a 
fine girl-woman and drawn with loving tenderness to her daughter. And 
yet ... there were times when she'd watched Wendy's snub-nosed, 
freckle-faced innocence combined with the lush provocativeness of 
upright, taut breasts and flat belly and gently sloping thighs where 
her triangle of soft pubic fleece lay between so prominently, and 
Marleen had been worried that perhaps Wendy was emerging into maturity 
a little too fast. But then she'd laugh away her silly fears, for the 
world was simply spinning faster these days, and hadn't she gotten 
married at nineteen?

Upstairs, she puttered around the kitchen, a bit sad and feeling lonely 
with Wendy out. The new tenant was constantly on her mind, and as hard 
as she tried to dismiss their new boarder, Dave Preston, from her 
thoughts, the more he seemed to come back to haunt her. He'd been in 
and out of the apartment all of that day, with his flaxen-haired 
girlfriend, Gloria something-or-other. She looked like a whore, smelled 
of cheap rose water, and chewed gum; Marleen had not thought much of 
her, although she had to admit that the woman had a fine and sensual 
body and knew how to move it. She didn't walk--she strutted! Not that 
it was any of her business what Preston did or didn't do with that 
woman, she chastised herself ...

She undressed for bed early, deciding to go to lie down and watch some 
TV from the portable set in the bedroom and just plain relax. It had 
been a harrowing day what with one thing and another, and she was 
awfully tired ...

She stood naked after stripping her clothes off and hanging them up, 
examining herself critically in the light of the bedroom before 
switching on the TV. She took the pins out of her hair and let the long 
silky strands fall; they covered her breasts partially, with only the 
dark aureoles and nipples peeking through, and the bottom crest of 
translucent flesh mounded below the hairline. She let her eyes move 
across her still flat plane of stomach, past the few stretch marks left 
over from Wendy's birth, down to the softly curling pubic hair which 
covered her pinkly hidden vaginal lips. Then she stretched, throwing 
her hair over her shoulder, and looked at her smooth satiny buttocks, 
the rippled muscles in the back of her slim, tapered thighs, and 
shapely, slim legs.

I have a good body, she thought. I really do. Some day, for some man, 
it would please with the same intensity and passion with which it had 
pleased Howie, her late husband. Until then, all she could do was hold 
it in reserve. She hadn't been bothered by the possible aging of her 
charms until today, strangely to say--oh, she'd noticed her reflection 
in the mirror and looked at herself as she was now, but today she'd 
made the startling discovery that the original fires Howie had kindled 
in her many long years ago weren't cold embers but banked coals, 
threatening to burst into flame from the nearness of an attractive, 
magnetic male beast.

Marleen lay down on the cool sheets on the bed and stretched out with a 
low, grateful sigh. That's what had been the matter with her today: 
she'd found to her surprise, and yes, to her fear as well, that she was 
still sexually responsive and yearning for love and the chance to love 
in return. She tossed fretfully, naked and uncovered on the bed, the 
stifling summer heat less oppressive to her than her own inner fires, 
and kept asking herself the two most important questions of her life: 
when a woman is widowed early in her married life, how much does she 
owe her child? And: can romance live in life at thirty-six and after?

Damn that David Preston for coming here today! she cursed. Damn, damn, 
damn! He was the one who'd made her so horridly aware of the gifts she 
had to offer, and the unrequited pangs of not having a man to whom to 
give them totally and forever, who would appreciate the extent of those 
gifts ...

"Mmmmmmmm!" Then: "Ahhhhhhh!" in a voice which obviously belonged to 
Preston. Marleen lay rigid on the bed, holding her breath, realizing 
with blushing embarrassment that she was unwontedly overhearing her new 
tenant and that blonde girl 'visitor" making love in his bedroom ...

"... Run your fingers along my balls ..."

"... Suck, baby, suck my cock!"

She couldn't continue listening! That woman, that Gloria was taking her 
boarder's throbbing penis in her mouth! How utterly perverse ... But 
Marleen was only able to lie motionless, caught in a strange series of 
involuntary sensations as she listened against her will and judgment to 
the salacious conversation muted by the thin wall separating the two 
bedrooms.

"Ahhhhh, baby ... oh, the inside of your mouth is like melted honey. Oh 
Jesus, that's nice..."

I've got to get out of here! the distraught widow cried out to herself. 
But it was as though iron shackles were fettering her to the bed ...

"You really love to suck cock, Gloria ... Ohhh, ahhhh, mmm!"

Stop it! Stop it! Marleen screamed silently. But as she struggled 
mentally, she looked down the expanse of her smooth, taut body, and saw 
that physically she was reacting in a way entirely opposite to what her 
head was telling her. The nipples on her gently curved breasts were 
peaking out of their folds, becoming hard and raised, like cherries on 
top of whipping cream. A tender aching was beginning to tingle between 
her legs, and when in wonderment and disbelief she actually touched one 
of them, the contact of her fingers intensified the throbbing in her 
loins to where she could no longer ignore its presence or what it 
signified. Dear heaven above, she was becoming sexually stimulated by 
the lewd actions taking place next door! No, no, it couldn't be 
happening ... but it was, and her entire being quivered on the bed.

"Gloria ... suck harder milk my cock dry, you little hot bitch! Ahhhh!"

The inside of Marleen's mouth was dry and she ran her tongue moistly 
over her lips to dispel the arid, cottony taste, and though she tried 
to blank her mind, it seemed to lewdly insist on projecting the image 
of what must be taking place the few feet away. David was on the bed 
... yes, that was it, and Gloria was kneeling over him stripped naked, 
her long lemon-yellow hair fanning over his belly and abdomen, and she 
was taking his blood-swollen shaft in her mouth and sucking it, up and 
down, up and down ...

A wave of shame caused her to flush a violent crimson. She'd never 
allowed Howie to kiss her between her thighs, or kiss him down there in 
return ... and here she was, dreaming of the carnal, degenerate act and 
working herself up to an impossible frenzy. She was aroused, all right, 
and for the first time in six years at that, and there was no use 
trying to delude herself any differently. If Howie had been there, 
she'd have gladly opened her legs wide and accepted his penis up inside 
her, for she needed it ... she needed release, and needed it 
desperately ...

"That's wonderful ... tickle my balls, baby. Ohhhh, I'm about ready to 
cum in your mouth, Gloria ... ohhh, suck harder!"

Marleen continued to mold and knead her breast, slowly capitulating to 
her physical hunger, her anguished needs which were spreading like an 
insidious cancer through her flesh, and only the reassured knowledge 
that what she was doing would be a secret to everybody but herself 
helped tame the shame and horror of her manipulations. Her other hand 
was moving to her wide-splayed thighs, wet with the secretions of her 
excitement, and gently she fingered her soft, writhing skin, teasing 
her still softer pubic hair and inner vaginal lips as she was held in 
the overwhelming grip of her powerful passions. Her finger contacted 
the trembling erection of her throbbing little clitoris and she gasped 
then in total defeat, rolling helplessly on the sheets with the obscene 
delight of touching herself down there.

From next door, David Preston was yelling: "I'm going to cum, baby ... 
ahhhh, suck it, suck it nowwwww!"

The fire burned more insatiably in her cunt, and demanded more to feed 
its lewd furnace of cravings. Marleen pictured the nakedly locked 
bodies next door and she inserted her finger deep into the passion 
moistened mouth of her pulsating vagina, drawing her knees up and her 
buttocks off the bed, high in the air as she arched with the maddening 
rhythm of her finger--now two fingers--screwing deeper and deeper up 
into herself. She could see in her mind's eye the naked woman's hotly 
ovalling lips and David Preston's humping, jerking motions as he thrust 
his hips up toward her slavering mouth, and Marleen finger-fucked 
herself faster and faster, nothing existing except the delirious coming 
of her impending climax with theirs ...

*   *   *

"Get out of the car, and don't ever come around again," Clyde Brooks 
sneered. He gunned the small engine in his MG with impatience. "I want 
to go out and find a real woman now and take the bad taste out of my 
mouth."

"Clyde, please--"

"Stop your mewling, baby. Out."

Crying abjectly, the terrified and brow-beaten young girl flung herself 
out of the sports car and ran to the gate, having a difficult time 
unlocking it with her house key because of the tears streaming wetly 
from her swollen eyes.

Her mascara was running down her cheeks, staining her livid skin, so 
red and mottled from her anguish and tormented heart. She trembled as 
she unlocked the door to the apartment, pausing to take a deep breath 
and smooth out her still damp skirt and blouse. Her head was whirling 
confusedly with the enveloping whirlwinds of her thoughts and emotions, 
the effect of the traumatic evening, the wine, the nearness of being 
fucked for the first time filling her marrow and blood with quaking 
distress.

She had to talk to her mother--Mother was her Rock of Gibraltar, her 
foundation for what she believed, her point of faith for her morals and 
actions ... But Mother wasn't in the livingroom, even though the lights 
were on. She must be in the bedroom, the daughter concluded, seeing the 
light on in there and a strange, squeaking noise coming from within ... 
She crossed hesitantly on the carpeting, her flats making not the 
slightest noise, and then she was at the open doorway ... and stood 
stone-still, drinking in the unbelievable scene ...

She recoiled, choking back a cry of astonishment! A dreaded chill shot 
up her spine, blinding her brain momentarily from the shock of the 
carnal exhibition before her, and she slumped against the door-jamb, 
utterly speechless with incomprehension. Insensibly, she wasn't filled 
with loathing and hatred, even as her mind recovered sufficiently to 
put into mental words the lustful tableaux on the bed.

Her mother was lying on her back in an unnatural position of love-
making, only there wasn't any partner! She was fingering herself and 
rubbing her breasts, the whole of her soft, hair-lined vaginal slit 
pinkly open to Wendy's wide-eyed stare, and she was moaning with 
passion-crazed, clenched-mouth delight, the chant slurred.

"Ohhhhh ... Ohhhhh, ohhhhh ..."

Marleen's hollowed buttocks were lifted several inches off the bed as 
she struggled upward desperately trying to absorb the entirety of her 
hand in her hungry cunt, a wet slavering sound drifting across the room 
to burn her daughter's ears, and she flexed her thighs, squeezing them 
rhythmically up and down the smooth poles of her fingers and then Wendy 
heard the muffled shouts from the next door apartment: "That's it, 
Gloria ... I'm going to cummmm! I'm going to cum in your mouth. Suck, 
baby, suck my cock!"

That new tenant! Wendy reeled inwardly from the brazen, lewd 
implications, and she blinked the way an owl does as she tried to sort 
out and rationally absorb the total knowledge of what was going on. 
David Preston was in his room with some girl named Gloria ... and she 
was sucking his cock ... and here, before her uncomprehending view, her 
mother was reveling in the depravity of their acts, obscenely 
masturbating with all the abandonment of a slut off the streets, doing 
to herself what Wendy had been taught to consider as one of the more 
loathsome practices, a defilement and degradation on the parts of a 
female which should be kept clean in spirit and flesh. Hadn't her camp 
counselor warned her about self-abuse? Hadn't Old Lady Witherspoon in 
her Health Class told them all that such practices can turn you mad and 
cause pimples and only degenerates did such things to themselves? 
Hadn't her mother always told her to keep her vagina and breasts holy 
and to keep her respect in her soul?

My God, she'd never dreamed of such a pagan display of abandonment, for 
while the cries of craving filtering from next door were terrible, the 
idea of kissing a penis so unthinkable, it was to be expected of 
others, of weaker mortals ...

But now, twisting obscenely in front of her was her own mother!

Her Rock of Gibraltar crumbled, her foundation cracked and dissolved 
like sand before her eyes ... She had placed her mother on a pedestal, 
made her God-like the way a child does when dependent on the wisdom of 
the parent; but the time must come for disenchantment, or the child can 
never fully grow and reach mature independence. Most often the 
awareness that Mother--or Father--is not perfect and has feet of clay 
comes over a period of time and is apt to be called "teenage 
rebellion," and in healthy situations this eventually turns into a 
young adult seeking his own way but regarding his parents in a new and 
better light, in the respect due a human being by another, not in 
adoring worship.

The trouble was, Wendy had not let herself evolve to that point, for 
she was extremely close to her mother and had always thought of her in 
terms of someone superior. This, now, was cataclysmic to her, a sudden 
rupture of everything she'd deemed holy and untainted, and when added 
to the rest of the evening's horrors, made her teeter on the brink of 
insanity, like abruptly finding out that God doesn't exist after having 
devoted your whole life to priest-hood, or discovering that the 
absolute Rights of the world were Wrongs, or at least only Maybes.

So as she watched her mother play with her nipples, peak them and roll 
them between her forefinger and thumb, and jerk and lunge her lower 
body as if devil-possessed with her other hand swirling among the dark 
black hair of her widely stretched cunt, Wendy was shattered, gaping 
wide-mouthed at the bouncing bed. Her brain was angered to a furious 
pitch of illogical rejection: her mother had only been spouting trite 
phrases, hypocritical platitudes which were said but not believed! All 
the lecturing, all the warnings to watch out for hands and mouths and 
the saving grace of waiting for the uncarnal love was a basket of crap! 
In practice, her mother was as debauched and lewd as any whore 
imaginable! What a God-damned fool Wendy had been--she should have let 
Clyde fuck her silly tonight, and should have long ago spread her legs 
for every boy who came along. Actions speak louder than, and are worth 
a thousand of, words--and Wendy saw the truth. Or, she thought she saw 
the truth ... for Marleen Franklin, having fallen off the pedestal she 
had been placed on in Wendy's mind, was no longer a white icon, but a 
black devil ... the truth of being a little of both, of being grey and 
human, hadn't yet entered Wendy's small world ...

Wendy told herself to go in and tear her mother from her wild spectacle 
of unadulterated passion, but she couldn't. She couldn't even turn away 
and leave her mother to her own ungodly revelries, for she found 
herself still not revolted and sickened by seeing the naked body 
spread-eagled in lewdness on the bed, but wildly fascinated--and why 
not? she asked herself ... isn't that the way she should be now, not 
that she'd woken up to the facts? But as much as she wanted to reject 
her mother, there was still the unconscious tug of love and devotion 
running below the surface of her immediate reactions, making her keep 
her eyes on that black pubic mound of hair that was being so blatantly 
aroused, making her stay for the exact opposite reason she was telling 
herself was the force which kept her at the door. Love ... hate; often 
the difference is hard to distinguish, frequently co-mingling in 
ambivalent attitudes.

"Ohhh ... Umm ... Ohhhh ... Suck, Gloria, suck ..."

Wendy heard the sounds and saw her mother's eyes grow glassy and sticky 
lubrications seep from between her smooth, fleshy buttocks as they 
ground and bumped in her wild ride to ecstasy. Then, Wendy groaned 
inwardly, her breath hot and heavy in her constricted chest, there was 
where I was born, between those long legs and downy soft black curls 
was the heart of my conception.

Marleen, unaware that her daughter was so enraptured, yet so destroyed, 
by watching her finger herself to orgasm, was squirming lewdly in the 
throes of her passion, seeing mentally their boarder's huge, glistening 
cock ramming in and out of the hotly sucking woman's clasping mouth, 
and her hands became that cock, and her gasps matched those of the 
surging bodies on the other side of the wall. Oh, how she wished Howie 
was here to pump his cum into her hot, searing passage, for the fingers 
weren't enough as her thoughts centered on the thick member ravishing 
the other woman's lips, and she had to have more but there was nothing 
except her fingers. In desperation she reached up over her buttocks 
with the hand which had been working her breasts and searched the wet 
anal crevice, and squirmed a finger in the tiny puckered rectum between 
her moon-shaped buttocks. She gasped from her haste, as the finger dug 
painfully into the soft, rubbery walls of her ass, sending a sharp jolt 
through her, then electric tingles of darting pleasure raced through 
her again and her face colored crimson as she felt her climax coming, 
coming with a great roar--

"Ahhhhhh!" Preston screamed through the partition. "I'm there!"

Wendy shuttered with emphatic identification as she sensed that the 
people in the other apartment were cumming and her mother was 
responding, and her own barely tried genitals ached like a seething 
volcano, ready to burst but not stimulated to that apex yet. She 
projected her own wishful fantasies as she looked at her mother's 
vaginal mound and tight, hairless anus being insanely ravished by her 
own fingers, sucked in her breath as she saw a mighty shudder break in 
waves across her lust-filled face, and clenched her thighs shut as her 
mother moaned out her self-induced orgasm--

Marleen's whole body vibrated and then hot, sticky juices gushed from 
around her fingers, covering her hand and running in rivulets down the 
inside of her excitedly quivering thighs and other hand. A piercing 
scream reverberated through the wall, followed by a low male groan, and 
then there was utter silence from the savage couple. Pinwheels of light 
burst in front of her eyes as she cried out once, twice, with the acute 
pleasure of her own release, and she arched her back, squeezing her 
cuntal area as hard as she could, then sunk to the bed, completely 
exhausted.

She couldn't bring herself to withdraw her fingers from herself until 
the last dying throbs had stilled inside, but finally she allowed her 
hands to slither wetly from her satiated pussy and anus and she rolled 
limply over, burrowing her head in her pillow, tiny tendrils of guilt 
beginning to crawl over her. She didn't hear David and Gloria as they 
changed position so that he could suck her blonde-haired cunt, nor did 
Marleen hear the child creep away and to her own room, closing the door 
and locking it. But Wendy couldn't lock out the numbing pain in her 
soul and the images of what she'd just witnessed, alone and confused 
with torment. Her mother was no longer a sanctuary, a place to run and 
find peace and salvation; she was now the opposite, the causation of 
agony and disruption, not the reliever of it.

Marleen was sick with the knowledge of what she'd done as sanity 
returned to her slowly. What was the matter with her now? Was she so 
starved, so wrought up by this David Preston, whom she hardly knew, 
that she was having to resort to masturbation for satisfaction? Would 
she repeat it time and again now? Her stomach churned, and the guilt-
ridden mother clenched her eyes shut and took the other pillow from 
beside her and covered the back of her head. Little by little her 
spasming muscles relaxed. With the lethargy of post-sex release, her 
physical calmness spread to her mind, which was dazed to the point of 
welcoming the relief, the escape from her agony. A drowsiness drifted 
over her, and a blissful, healing sleep let her sink into 
unconsciousness, stopping her from reliving the purgatory to which 
she'd condemned herself.

Tomorrow, she thought just before she slept. Maybe tomorrow things will 
be better ...



Chapter 4


Morning arrived all too soon.

The alarm clock went off, awaking Marleen, and she slowly came around 
to consciousness with a fuzzy, distant, half-jointed awareness. She 
turned over, at first curious as to why she was naked and on top of her 
covers--and then she recalled the previous night, what she had heard 
and done, and a wash of shame and self-loathing flowed over her. 
Quickly she padded to her closet and put on a chenille robe, not 
wanting to be reminded further of her indiscretion by seeing her 
nakedness openly displayed, and she buttoned the robe all the way down 
and up to her neck, covering her flesh. Barefoot, trembling and 
clutching the hem with her hand, she stepped into the livingroom, 
almost fearful that Wendy would see her like this, and crossed to the 
kitchen, where she plugged in the percolator.

The apartment was strangely quiet and solemn, the way a tomb might be 
... she wondered if her daughter was awake yet, then saw that her 
bedroom door was ajar. She glanced at the clock over the stove: eight-
thirty. Wendy was up and gone awfully early, but then that wasn't 
incredibly unusual, and Marleen didn't worry about it any more than 
she'd worried about Wendy being out with Clyde the night before. She'd 
open the store in an hour, and sooner or later Wendy would come home 
...

She poured herself a cup of steaming hot coffee and sat down, staring 
stony-eyed at nothing in particular, her thoughts hazy and tormenting. 
Poor little Wendy; she had no idea what kind of mother she had, and had 
Marleen caught her masturbating the way she had last night, she'd have 
made quite a scene. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed with the 
knowledge of her self-abuse, and she asked herself over and over the 
sickening question whether her six years of sexual chasteness had left 
her so weakened that she had to resort to manipulating her own breasts 
and vagina for satisfaction, whether she was on the verge of 
nymphomania, unable to control her emotions ...

No, no it was because of David Preston. Not that she blamed her tenant 
for being the way he was, getting that girl of his up to his room and 
having her suck his penis ... it was because there was something about 
him which seemed to release all of the locks she'd carefully placed on 
her body and feelings, and that if she'd heard some other man doing the 
same thing last night, it wouldn't have affected her anywhere near as 
strongly ... and so for her own sake he'd have to leave at once before 
things got out of hand. It might not solve everything perfectly, she 
told herself, but it would be a start. As soon as she saw him, she'd 
tell him to go.

It was useless to chastise herself further about her masturbation; she 
couldn't wipe it off the slate of her life. It was done and the best 
thing to do would be to learn from it, and that she'd have to watch 
herself more closely in the future, even after David Preston was out 
bag and baggage. She hated to part with the two hundred dollars he'd 
given her, but that was a cheap price to pay for her sanity, and she 
was only lucky that no permanent harm had been done. After all, nobody 
had seen her finger herself while listening to the nakedly groaning 
couple next door, and it wasn't very adult of her to torture her mind 
with childish guilt as if she had been viewed by others. Yes, she said 
to nobody in particular, yes it was very lucky indeed that Wendy was 
out on a date last night and didn't know the horror her mother was 
experiencing ...

*   *   *

Wendy awoke an hour earlier than her mother, one of the many times 
she'd woken during the night. It was useless to try and sleep, she 
decided, and she wanted to be gone before her mother awoke; she didn't 
know what she wanted to do, but she knew that she didn't want to face 
her, not yet, not until she had sorted some of her confusion and 
resentment out and resolved a few things in her own mind.

She decided to sun herself on the porch, though because of the new 
tenant she knew that she couldn't go bare-chested as she had been 
doing, and so she slipped on her magenta colored bikini and her terry-
cloth beach robe that came just below her thighs, and silently padded 
out the apartment door and to the porch. She was deeply troubled by the 
shattering knowledge that her mother was a sensual and carnal woman, 
not at all saintly and above the "sins of the flesh" she had warned 
Wendy to avoid. There was nobody Wendy could turn to, nor was she sure 
of her own feelings, sensing little save a kind of reeling numbness; 
not hating, not loving, not really anything but confusion.

She was surprised to see David Preston down in the yard, playing with 
his dog. He was only in a pair of faded dungarees, and she gasped with 
admiration at the way the early morning sun rippled across his fine, 
exposed chest, his muscles firm and his skin copper. God, but that 
man's built, she thought peripherally, and so confident and virile. 
Clyde's only a boy compared to him. He was so graceful and lean as he 
played in barefoot happiness with his large, romping dog, throwing a 
rubber ball against the fence for it to catch. And the dog was just as 
magnificent, whipcord taut and large, with a glossy coat that wasn't 
too hairy and yet gave a shining covering of rich, fur-like texture.

David Preston laughed and King barked joyfully at the exercise as he 
took the ball from King's massive jaws, and he was about to throw it 
again when he saw the figure of the lovely young girl on the porch. He 
stopped, transfixed as the sunlight caught her beauty, her lithe, 
innocent ripeness. Her terry-cloth robe was untied, because the day was 
already uncommonly warm, and the creamy down of her smooth skin was 
displayed, barely covered by the thin strands of her bikini. Her mouth 
was parted and her teeth slightly bared as she looked down at him, and 
the sun seemed to focus on the triangle of her petal-like vagina, 
presenting it to him as if it was an offering there to be taken by his 
huge, stabbing cock. Her high, inviting globular breasts were barely 
restrained by the tight top, jutting out like twin hillocks, waiting to 
be climbed, and legs, so slender, so smoothly curving into her inner 
thighs and firm buttocks seemed to beg him to step up to her and bury 
himself between them. His cock strained against his pants as he gazed 
with increasingly lusting eyes up at the beautiful teenager, his mind 
devilishly churning with lascivious and devious thoughts as to how best 
bring her under his control and body ...

Suddenly laughing, Wendy held her pose for a moment, thumbs pressed 
against her slender, sculptured sides, fingers splayed across her 
belly. "Mr. Preston? What're you doing?"

"Exercising King," he called back. "Come on down."

"All right." She giggled delightedly and disappeared from view, only to 
appear a few minutes later at the back door. She came across the yard, 
provocative in her walk and stance without even being aware of her 
natural sensuality. "Gee, you have a nice dog, Mr. Preston."

"Call him King," he grinned at her as she patted King's head. King 
lolled his tongue out appreciatively and panted. "And call me David; 
it's a lot less formal between friends."

"Oh? Are we friends?" she said coyly.

"Aren't we?" He knew this was a game, a teasing game that teenage girls 
love to play and never mean. He knew it and went along with it. Lose a 
battle, win the war ...

"Sure we are, I guess, David. And I'm Wendy."

"I know. I heard your mother call you yesterday."

"Oh her," she grimaced.

Normally, such a reaction would be expected of a girl, it being no more 
than the usual unmeant disdain for parents, but Preston caught a deep 
undercurrent of true feeling behind her casual remark. Being the man he 
was with his devotion to seduction, he felt that there might be a weak 
point in which to drive the wedge of his cock; with the jungle instinct 
of a predatory lion of long experience, he began shaping a plan of 
attack around that innocuous throwaway comment.

"Where's your girl-friend?" Wendy asked slyly. She hadn't forgotten 
about the moans and growls of lust which had been emanating from his 
room while her mother masturbated. That didn't bother her--after all, 
David was a man, and such things were to be expected of him; her mother 
was the seed of her anguish. "You know, the blonde one you had in your 
room last night."

If Wendy had the impression he'd blush like the boys she knew would 
have, she was mistaken. He threw back his head and laughed uproarishly. 
"You know about Gloria, then?"

"Sure, the whole block does, you were making so much noise."

"What the hell, can't two people enjoy themselves?"

Wendy changed the subject, feeling it was getting a little too intimate 
for her; she wanted to escape lewdness, not get more of it. "I thought 
she'd be over here today with you," she said casually, but she felt her 
cheeks beginning to burn.

David chuckled, the man catching the blush on her pretty face. "Yeah, 
she left early to go to her brother's place. She'll be living there, 
you see."

"Oh ..."

"You planning to sun-bathe?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Well ... there isn't anything else really to do," she replied. "But 
I'd sure like to get away from here. You have a car?"

"Gloria's got it."

"Oh, yeah. Gloria."

"Come on, Wendy, she's just a friend. I'm not married to her."

"You sleep with her, don't you?" she blurted out before she'd realized 
what she'd been thinking. She averted her eyes, angry at herself, and 
embarrassed at the way David laughed at her again.

What do you know about sex, little lady?"

"More than you think," she said grimly. "More than you think."

He chortled again. David lewdly thought about the pawing, groping hands 
of the local kids on her tender breasts, and her passion-filled kissing 
in the drive-in. She was still a virgin; Christ, he could almost smell 
her quivering little hymen stretched across her cherry cunt ... well, 
if he had his way, she'd sure have a lot of knowledge about sex, 
straight from his throbbing cock! But he'd have to get her away from 
here, away from the prying eyes of her mother--another luscious cunt he 
wasn't forgetting to consider ways and means about--and all the other 
distractions. Someplace quiet ...

"Well, how about the boat?" the older man suggested, thumbing towards 
the Thompson outboard.

"Heck, I've seen everywhere that's anywhere around the bay, and the 
boat's not big enough to take out in open water."

"Well, I haven't seen everywhere and anywhere. Show me."

She looked up at him. Why not? A beautiful day, and it would give her 
something to do, and he was such a nice, understanding and cool guy. He 
might be over thirty, but he's not square, she thought, nodding her 
head in sudden agreement. "I'll get the keys," she said.

"And I'll get ... some other things," Preston added, grinning with 
intense pleasure. Some extra special other things ...

It had been a very fine suggestion, Wendy thought dreamily some hours 
later, the day blue-and-white, the sea Lucite clear and of long, low 
waves. The ride around the bay had been beautiful, the magnificent dog, 
King, barking at the swooping gulls and frothy spray, and she'd had fun 
pointing out all the homes and points of view as she stood in front, 
her hands on the windscreen, letting the salty, tangy breeze blow her 
hair and cool her skin, while David skillfully maneuvered the boat 
while sitting alongside her at the controls. Then they'd decided to go 
someplace and just relax, someplace out of the way and secluded, and 
she'd liked that idea as well, because she was still disturbed by the 
events of last night, and wanted a little peace and quiet in which to 
contemplate.

She knew just the spot, too. The pines were thinned out, allowing a 
small section of sandy beach about thirty yards long and half as deep--
just enough to drop anchor and wade ashore and relax on the sand, alone 
and unsullied, the world going by without noticing them. She lay back 
on the towel, the warm rays baking her, feeling the nearness of the 
older man next to her, but not caring, not afraid ... King slept in the 
shade, but ready should he be needed.

Preston sat up, stretching and yawning. "I could go for a cigarette. 
You want one?"

"No, no thank you."

"You don't smoke?"

"Well ... sometimes." She didn't want to act unsophisticated in front 
of him, make him think she was a child or something. "Okay," she nodded 
impulsively.

He grinned at her and stretched himself so he could reach into his 
pocket for his pack. They were odd looking, she thought as he handed 
her one. Loose, with a funny brown-colored, shaggy tobacco. He saw her 
hesitation and explained: "They're Mexican, Wendy. I got them down 
there. Mild, but lots of flavor. That's what you smoke for, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure ... I guess so." She placed one in her mouth and cupped his 
hand as he lit it with his lighter. She inhaled, and was pleased to 
find out that he was right, that the cigarette was peculiar smelling 
but very tasty, sort of sweetish, in fact. But a small tendril of 
giddiness hit her, in spite of their mildness, and suddenly the ocean 
was a different color of blue. "Whoo! They're sure different, all 
right, but I like them."

"I thought you would," the man said insidiously. He thought to himself 
that this girl must be awfully stupid and very ignorant not to know 
that she wasn't smoking Mexican cigarettes, but marijuana. Hell, he'd 
never even been to Mexico. He watched her carefully as she smoked, 
keeping her mind off what she was doing automatically by a constant 
patter of lively jokes and remarks, making her giggle and her eyes 
sparkle and her lungs inhale the curling fog of the euphoric drug ...

Slowly and without her realizing it, the young teenager began to fall 
under its magic spell, making her feel free, uncaring, devil-take-the-
hindmost. She felt warm comradeship to David now, grabbing his arm as 
he told jokes and she laughed, giving him side-long glances of 
provocativeness, loving the world and herself and wanting him to like 
her as well. Wendy rested her chin on her drawn-up knees and dreamily 
leaned against David Preston to let him know that she was enjoying the 
day, and his company ... and the delicious illusion festered by the 
marijuana he continually gave her pervaded her slim, untouched body, 
giving her a tingling sensation deep inside, so deep that she couldn't 
imagine its bottom.

"Oh, I don't want ever to leave here, David," she said.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to go home. My mother--" She caught herself just before 
she was going to tell all about what she'd seen. She put her hand to 
her mouth in a gesture of silence.

"Go on, what about her?"

"I can't tell you."

"You should tell somebody, Wendy. I can see you've been very upset and 
worried about something, and that's no good."

"You did?" she asked thickly. "It's not?"

"No," he answered smoothly, "it's not. And it was obvious that you've 
been bothered all night, because when you came downstairs this morning, 
you were almost shaking." She hadn't, but it was a good lie at the 
moment, and he knew that she wasn't in any condition to think 
rationally about this morning and contradict; she shook her head in 
agreement.

"Well, I have been, but it's not a nice subject. It's about ... sex!" 
She said the last word in a hushed, excited tone, her eyes wide. "Sex, 
you know?"

"Yeah, I know, Wendy," Preston said. "But everybody has sex lives--you, 
me, your mother--and there's no use trying to hide the fact or 
pretending it doesn't exist." He felt her shoulders trembling, and he 
placed a protective arm around her, patting her other shoulder like a 
father would. "Go ahead and spill it, Wendy. I'm not going to spread it 
around, and you can't keep it bottled up inside you forever."

The marijuana-induced freedom lowered her gates of natural reluctance, 
just as if she'd been drinking all afternoon. She felt hot tears brim 
in her eyes, and while she felt silly for bursting into crying, she 
couldn't stop herself, feeling doubly all of the bitter emotions she'd 
been nagged with since she'd been almost de-virginated by Clyde Brooks. 
Haltingly, letting the whole confession pour out unstopped and 
uncensored, she lay bare her innermost heart, telling Preston in a 
babbling, choking slur about everything.

It didn't take much imagination for the man beside her to unravel her 
distorted and unconnected train of thought, and an excited glow 
flickered into his eyes, and the stirrings of lewd and excited passions 
boiled in the pit of his belly. Hot damn! Her mother fingering herself 
off while listening to me get sucked by Gloria! That only shows that 
the old lady is hot to trot for cock, especially, if her kid is right, 
she hasn't had a steady man around for six years. God, I'd burst apart 
if I didn't get my balls emptied for half that time! And this little 
virgin teenager, who's a virgin just as I thought, almost got some cock 
rammed into her last night, only leave it to some inexperienced kid to 
get over-anxious and ruin the pitch ... But I won't screw things up. 
This one is as good as fucked right now ...

Finished her agonizing story, Wendy pressed her face tightly against 
his cheek and cried softly, and in a muffled voice, said: "Oh, David, 
I'm so miserable. I don't know what to do!"

"Wendy, tell me something. Did you enjoy seeing your mother playing 
with herself?"

"What? No, no, I just told you--"

"Come on, tell the truth. You watched her for a long time, not doing 
anything, and if you were excited, you shouldn't be ashamed of it. 
Watching people having sex is almost as much fun as doing it."

"You ... you sound as if you approve of what she did!" Wendy broke away 
in horror. "As if ... As if you think that everybody ought to have 
their kicks any way they please!"

Preston shrugged, gazing at her through lidded eyes. "No, I'm saying 
that we ought to be honest with one another. If two people--or in the 
case of your mother--one person--enjoy what they're doing, who are you 
to castigate them? Sex is good, clean fun, and it can't hurt anybody, 
only make people closer."

"You ... you mean like me and Clyde last night? I ... I should have let 
him do it to me?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you weren't ready for him, didn't really want 
him, and he was unable to prepare you properly. A girl's first time is 
very important."

"Then, then what should I do about Mother? You think she feels the way 
you're describing I should be?"

He shook his head ruefully. "I doubt it. She's of her generation." He 
laughed out loud. "What the hell, so am I, but of a different school. I 
believe the way you young kids do, that this is the age of freedom, and 
what's the use of being free on the outside if you're not that way 
inside? But your mother, Wendy, your mother has a lot of hang-ups, I 
bet, and she probably feels right terrible about what she's done. And 
she shouldn't."

His talk was unnerving the pretty virgin girl; so much had happened in 
so short a time, and her mind was confused and uncertain, the marijuana 
in her blood fogging her perceptions and sense of impending danger ... 
She cradled in the warmth of the older man's arms now, still shaking 
with nerves and sobbing with emotion. The smoke hazily filled her with 
warmth, and enhanced the pungent aroma of his masculine body, and his 
gently stroking hand on her naked arm was beginning to give soft, 
feathery tickles of excitement in her pubic region. She tightened her 
inner thighs, even squirmed her sensuous young buttocks slightly on the 
warm sand so as to choke off the unwanted agitation that were tingling 
down there ...

"David, David, you're so kind to me. You understand me," she whimpered. 
She was wide open to new suggestions and directions now, vulnerable 
because the old way of her mother's had been proved to be only a 
faade. Or ... was her mother right? She couldn't accept this man's 
philosophy, not after so many years of being ingrained with a strict 
puritanical morality, in spite of the fact that she considered her 
mother a hypocrite and her ethics unquestionable. But David Preston did 
seem to understand her, for he'd been right about her being excited by 
watching her mother fingering herself ... Oh God, she didn't know what 
to do, what to think ...

"I don't want to talk about it any longer," she said. "I need time to 
think. You understand me, but I don't believe I understand myself, and 
... and ..." she couldn't continue, and more hot tears spilled from her 
blurred eyes, down over her flesh and wetting her bikini top. She was 
so disturbed and crazy from the marijuana and her tribulations, and she 
let the salt water rain on them both like a Spring shower.

David Preston felt the warm, resilient flesh of the young girl tight 
against him as she quivered violently with her emotions, and saw the 
streams of her bitterness run unheeded down her face and fall in 
rivulets between her heaving young breasts. God, it was going to be 
good! The blood in his penis was pounding like mad now, and his 
testicles ached with anticipation of the way her tight, virginal little 
pussy was going to feel throbbing around the hardness of his cock.

"Well, then, don't think about it, Wendy," he murmured in her shell-
like ear. "We won't talk about how your mother was fingering herself 
until she came, and how I was undressed with my hard cock being sucked 
by Gloria ... We won't talk about it any longer ..."

His words were mesmerizingly soothing to Wendy, and as he continued to 
stroke gently her satiny skin, he knew that though he was telling her 
that they wouldn't talk about it, the longer he did, the larger the 
recollections would grow in her drugged mind. Nothing like a little 
grass to get the ass, he always said ... He felt her warm, hard breasts 
pressing against his chest and her nipples hardening slightly, and 
figured that already she was thinking about last night, conjuring up 
the lewd, depraved scenes over and over like an unending strip of film. 
"Don't think about it ..."

Wendy tried to will herself not to, but the twitching in her belly and 
the moistness which was seeping around her young, secret cunt was 
beginning to overpower her. She moaned softly and all the while he kept 
whispering words in her hair, words constantly bolder and more 
corrupting.

"... your mother's pink cunt, and her fingers rubbing up and down along 
the lips of it ... don't think about the way she looked, arching, 
straining to climax, her hand deep inside her pussy, her pussy which is 
just like yours ... and don't think about my girl waiting to put her 
lips around my hard cock, to suck the cum out of my balls ... No, don't 
think about it, Wendy ..."

She was breathing faster now, and then casually Preston brought his 
hand around and lightly touched one swelling breast, rubbing his palm 
slowly over her bikini top. She gasped and shuddered, and convulsively 
stiffened from his touch, but he didn't stop and somehow she didn't 
want him to ... and the words he'd spoken about being honest and free 
ran along with the lurid images of her mother and him, naked and 
abandoned, and she had to admit that his fingers felt so good, so 
gooood ... Then she gulped fresh air, a warning bell of what was 
happening to her, what she was allowing to happen to her, tolling in 
her brain, and she jack-knifed against him, squirming her hips on the 
sand and turning her body away, but in doing so, her mouth came up and 
brushed against his, and suddenly she felt him kissing her.

His kiss was intense fire, the kiss of a lover, not the unpracticed 
slaverings of the boys she'd necked with. It was like the difference 
between a tiger and a pussy-cat on her system, and her primeval urges, 
unleashed by her torment and the marijuana, engulfed her. The young 
teenage virgin allowed her mouth to open wider and accept his flicking 
tongue in a French soul-kiss which made her head spin and her blood 
boil.

Preston pushed the bra up now, grazing his touch on the firm, tight 
breasts, kneading the nipple around with his thumb and forefinger the 
way her mother had done to herself last night--and he knew that she'd 
remember the similarity and it would excite her more ... and it did, it 
made her fantasizing mind weave a magic spell around what she was doing 
... she mewled abjectly, capitulating by stretching out beside him, 
pressing herself to the older man all the harder with the urgency of 
her liberated, lithe body. Then his lips were sucking one distended 
nipple, making her delirious with uncontrollable joy, the marijuana 
highlighting her physical pleasure a hundred-fold, while dulling her 
denials and rejections to a nonexistent level.

Surely he would stop there, her mind told her wildly. Surely he would--
he's old enough to be her father after all; but then Preston's fingers 
began teasing the mound at the base of her smooth little belly, though 
unable to dip lower because of the way she'd automatically contracted 
her thighs, squeezing them shut in a last-ditch attempt to salvage 
something of this lewd rape of her being, but the flood of lubrications 
was already showing through her thin bikini, and she felt the soft 
wetness against her flesh, and then his fingers wormed their way firmly 
in between her legs, the delights rationalizing away her indecisions 
and fears. It was wickedly good ... and she was doing no worse than her 
mother had done, the difference was that a man was playing with her 
instead of herself--and who was to say which was the worse sin?

His hand became bolder as her desires overcame her resistance, and 
Wendy allowed her legs to gradually widen to his teasing probings, and 
then before she was aware of it, her thin bikini bottom was down, 
stripped off of her thighs and around her ankles, the gentle ocean 
breezes a cooling shock against her softly curling fleece of sparse 
young pubic hair. She could feel the tender wall of her pussy seep its 
fluids into the palm of the man's hand as he slowly, expertly, worked 
his fingers into her, expanding her tight little hole and teasing her 
genitals until she was almost out of her mind. She was ready to crawl 
into the ocean to quench the fires raging out of control in her 
hungrily contracting little cunt, her lust-glazed, marijuana-smoked 
eyes staring at Preston with incomprehension, her mind reeling so fast 
that she couldn't tell whether this was actually happening to her or 
not, if the beach and David and her nakedness were figments of her 
dreaming brain or if time really was standing still for her ...

Preston, over twice Wendy's age, was holding his breath from the sight 
of the young teenager's nude body before him, and he could barely 
believe himself so lucky as to have her lying flat on her back 
breathing wildly and passionately, all his ... All his, and it would be 
the first time for her, too! He stared in delight down at the soft 
silken down that covered the junction of her slightly spread thighs and 
at his rummaging hand that was teasing maddeningly at the thin pink 
slit which ran between her little clitoral bud and her tiny puckered 
anus. He'd fucked a lot of women, but never anything as pure and 
innocent and young as Wendy Franklin! The mere thought of the 
uncontrollable, helpless moans escaping from those barely touched lips 
goaded his cock to rock hardness and he felt it press against his pants 
with its lusting to be free, to be inside that virginal little pussy.

"Ohhhh, ohhhhh," she gasped and groaned, her pussy opening and closing 
and sucking at his fingers which were tormenting her wet, hotly 
throbbing little mouth of lust, and the cords of her neck stood out as 
she pulled the very last of her strength to somehow control the 
whirlwind of passions which had seized hold of her loins. This was 
where she had to stop! This was where, last night, she had stopped 
Clyde ... but when she rolled against Preston, forcing him to remove 
his hand as she had done with her (now) ex-boyfriend, she could only 
roll back again and lie gasping like a goldfish out of water, twitching 
and undulating, unable to stop the maddening surge inside her belly and 
vagina. This couldn't be happening to her! It couldn't! But it was ... 
and when with a malicious groan of uncontrollable depravity, the man 
unzipped his pants and exposed his hardened penis to her, the remaining 
remnants of her vow to retain her virginity until marriage shattered 
like crystal glass.

Preston couldn't stand it any longer, and his cock was goaded to the 
very limit of its fevered endurance. It was all he could do to keep 
from ramming his boiling cock forward and impaling this sweet, 
undefiled child, but his desire to have her again and again made him 
slow down and work her further into a state where she would demand 
more, more ... and never stop wanting his cock in her. He rolled on top 
of her, his rigidly bloated shaft brushing against her matted, moist 
pubic hairs. He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders so 
that he could see between their naked bodies and watch her uptilted 
cunt as it was throbbingly exposed to him, her narrow vaginal slit so 
inviting with its pink, hair-fringed line held wide apart by the 
pressure of his thighs pressing tightly against hers.

The virgin girl could see dimly through her passion and drug-filled 
cloud, and she could feel the hugeness of his fleshy hardness lying the 
full length of her quivering vagina, its jerking cock-head blunt and 
hot between her splayed thighs, softly insinuating itself in a 
maddening tease that caused her to jerk her hips upwards as her hungry 
cunt searched desperately for the hard, blood-filled shaft. Then 
Preston pushed forward, and Wendy sensed the lips around her pulsating 
vagina push open to receive his penis, and the elastic tightness of her 
hymen resist painfully as he drove harder at the door of her womb. He 
flexed again, and suddenly there was a ripping pain, sharp and 
prickling, and warm blood flowed from her cunt to wet the white sands 
beneath the crevice of her buttocks. Preston liked that, liked the idea 
that he was bagging a cherry ...

He shoved again, sinking his lust-inflated penis all the way inside her 
wide stretched pussy until his heavy testicles slammed resoundingly 
down against her jerking anus. Wendy screwed herself down in the softly 
giving sand in a vain attempt to escape the cruel, inhuman impalement, 
her legs kicking futilely in the air.

"Oh God, nooooo! Nooooo!" she screamed, not caring about anything 
except the pain in her belly which was burning deeply and irrevocably. 
But Preston pinned her down with his body and arms and burrowed his 
large, rod-hard cock deeper with jerking, sliding motions, the fiery, 
plunging shaft filling her until the tip of his cock-head was battering 
far back against her cervix. Then the pain slowly began to recede as 
she flexed her cuntal muscles and her vaginal tunnel clasped his shaft 
like a moist, warmly living glove, and flames of tingling desire 
started to shoot up from her loins as she slowly became accustomed to 
the alien invasion.

"Ohhhh," she groaned through emotion-bared teeth, fighting desperately 
that thin line between pain and pleasure.

Preston waited a moment and then pressed again into the full wetly 
clinging folds of her vagina, watching her face contort more intensely 
now below his.

"Ahhhhhh!"

The girl began to respond now, her wet pussy answering his pumping 
penis with soft pulsations of its own, and she unconsciously rotated 
her hips and her vagina dilated in time to the man's beating rhythm. 
She began hesitantly to grind up against his loins now as he initiated 
long, hard strokings into her steaming channel, her excited vaginal 
juices rivuleting down her buttock cheeks as she surged back and forth 
to his sawing motion ...

Dear God, this is wonderful! Is this what I've been missing, for so 
long? Dear God, I'll never be able to get enough ...

Her nails gouged a path down his back and she drew his thick, slavering 
tongue voraciously in her mouth, swallowing it greedily as she squirmed 
and rocked, her legs wrapped tightly around his flexing hips, her 
ankles locked together and pulling him deeper inside her, the full 
length of his driving cock sinking into her freshly ravaged vagina ...

"I'm ... I'm going to cum, Wendy," Preston panted.

"Yes, yes, fill me with your hot beautiful cum," she babbled, and felt 
her own release--her very first orgasm--billowing from the furnaces of 
her passion. "Yes, and I'm ... I'm going to cum toooo!"

And as she grunted, Preston reached behind and grasped wildly at her 
spasming buttocks of white, firm flesh, slamming his spewing cock into 
her soft, now totally unresisting cunt, flooding her inside walls with 
his hotly cascading semen.

Wendy felt the sweet agony of his deeply imbedded penis in her pussy as 
it flared and spurted, and she could feel the delicious hot fluid surge 
against her womb and burn its fiery trails through her whole cuntal 
passage. Her very vaginal pores opened to receive the unending stream 
of his sperm, and then her body quaked and a volcano of emotions burst 
through her sinew and bones, blinding her mind and emotions with 
phosphorescent brilliance as her own orgasm tornadoed insanely through 
her naked young body; oh God, it was magnificent, the finest experience 
of her whole life! She mustn't ever let it end!

"I'm cummmiiinnngggg!"

Her cries tumbled from her mouth as their bodies became one, and she 
screamed incoherently as her passion juices whirlpooled hotly together 
with his cream-like cum and overflowed out the tightly clinging lips of 
her still spasming vagina, as her whole lower body and breasts heaved 
and rolled in death-throe convulsions. Then, it was over and Preston 
fell forward on top of her in exhaustion, and she, too, felt totally 
collapsed, and quivered in final limpness, her legs sprawling 
lifelessly out on either side of his naked body.

She sighed raggedly. Wendy Franklin had experienced her first taste of 
sex, and she was void of all emotions and creeping satiation filled her 
like a warm blanket. She was now a woman in a very literal sense, and 
she could never return to her old, nave, virginal world; the 
revelation that she'd allowed a man twice her age and almost a stranger 
to take her, to deflower her without even token affection on his part, 
hit her only dimly. Maybe later she would feel bad about it, but at the 
moment she was satisfied and not at all sorry. Maybe later, but not now 
...

"Are ... are you going to take me home now?" she asked Preston. "David? 
Are you?"

His laugh was less friendly now, and he moved his hips so that his 
penis, deflated but still imprisoned between her vaginal lips, was felt 
by her all the way to the nerve-endings in her breasts. "Not a chance, 
kid," he told her, looking down. "The day's still young, and we've just 
begun."

"I need a rest," she admitted. "This was my first time, you know ..."

"Yeah, I know. And you hurt a bit. Well, practice makes perfect, and I 
won't do anything to you for awhile."

But it wasn't out of kindness that he was being patient. David Preston 
needed a rest himself before he could get another erection, for the 
teenager had milked him with an unrestrained passion which more 
experienced bitches had never had or had lost, even though Wendy wasn't 
as skilled. She would be, he gloated; she had that natural talent to 
fuck which must have come from her mother and only took a little 
direction to mature. In a while his balls would be tight with more 
sperm and his cock would rejuvenate into a new and lusty life. In the 
meantime, he'd just let his limp cock lie there in her flooded little 
cunt and soak itself back to life.

And while he was doing that, he'd set to thinking about how to get into 
her mother's panties. Christ, seeing how good her daughter was right 
off the line, he couldn't wait to try his cock out in the long-unused 
cunt of Marleen Franklin. He bet she'd fuck his Goddamned toenails off! 
Already his brain was getting the glimmerings of an idea, just from 
what Wendy had told him about last night ...

Yeah, yeah, he thought it might work. He'd have to talk to this 
boyfriend of Wendy's, this Clyde Brooks--hell, he sounded like a real 
young stud and he wouldn't be any trouble to convince. But all his lewd 
and salacious thoughts had begun to arouse him again. He looked down at 
the smile on the young teenager's cherubic face, and he grinned 
victoriously. It was about time to start again, and this time, he'd 
really fuck her shitless!



Chapter 5


The shadows of dusk fell across the warm, ocean-side community, and 
though there was enough light to see outside with, the sun just setting 
with streamers of orange and red, Marleen turned on the lamps of the 
shop.

It had been a slow day, allowing her to contemplate life and her small 
segment of it, and worse, she'd allowed herself a few "medicinal" sips 
of brandy over the hours, and she stood teetering behind the counter, 
having just thrown the once-new, now-empty fifth of brandy into the 
garbage can. She knew that she'd drunk too much, and her head was 
spinning dizzily, but somehow that soothed the aching in her heart, 
deadening some of the creeping foreboding which stilled her heart with 
cold, skeletonous fingers.

Wendy was out with that David Preston.

She had been since early morning, Marleen sensed; there hadn't been any 
note, but her daughter hadn't come home yet, and neither had the new 
tenant or his dog. They had all been missing along with her boat right 
from the time she'd gotten up ... so they had to be together. Doing 
what? Was darling Wendy safe with that man? Would he attack her, him 
and his brutal, savage, animalistic ways of sordid love-making, and 
would Wendy return with her mind warped and her body filthy by the 
corruption Preston would force upon her? The idea, the potential terror 
of such a happenstance made her almost want to vomit.

She'd thought crazily about phoning the police as the hours wore on, 
but that seemed a foolish thing to do. For one thing, she had no idea 
that Wendy was in danger; it was still daylight, and Wendy had always 
been able to handle herself before, and since it was her boat that was 
gone, it was obvious that her daughter had gone along willingly--
perhaps even invited David along for a ride. If she should call the 
police and have them pick Wendy and Preston up, and it was all 
innocent, she'd never live it down, and Wendy'd never think that she 
was trusted anymore. And Preston--well, his being friendly to the girl 
might lead him into a mistaken charge of molestation, the police 
aggravated by a hysterical mother ... No, she couldn't call the police.

Besides, as sure as she was that Wendy was out with Preston and King, 
she had no proof. She could be jumping to conclusions, and Wendy was 
somewhere else, with somebody else. Like Clyde Brooks for instance. Yes 
... yes, there was a good chance that she was with Clyde! She'd call 
the Brooks home right now; why hadn't she thought of that before? 
Quickly she stepped over to the counter with the cash register and 
small desk with its phone. She looked up the number--not being as 
familiar with the Brooks family as her daughter was and dialed. The 
phone rang and rang ...

Hurry up, please ... Her agitation was more emotional than rational, 
and even as she stood there, receiver pressed to her ear, she couldn't 
understand her driving sense of urgency. Hurry.

"Hello?"

"I'd like to speak to Clyde Brooks, please."

"Speaking. Who's this?"

"Marleen Franklin. Wendy's mother."

"Wen--! Listen, Mrs. Franklin, I can explain about last night. You see-
-"

"Last night? I don't know what you're talking about. Is Wendy over 
there with you?"

Clyde sighed with audible relief. So the little bitch hadn't squealed 
on him, had she. But now he didn't understand; he sat down in the chair 
beside the phone, ham sandwich in one hand and the receiver in the 
other, a frown creasing his forehead. "No, no Wendy isn't here. We ... 
had a fight last night."

"Oh God." Marleen's voice was a dull, hollow mournful tone.

"What is it, Mrs. Franklin? What's the matter? Has Wendy disappeared?" 
He knew he'd been rough on the girl, more out of anger and frustration 
than anything. In fact, Clyde had been sitting around, wrestling with 
the idea of apologizing to Wendy. Now her mother was calling, obviously 
worried to a fearful pitch. "Listen, Mrs. Franklin," he repeated, 
catching the fever of hysteria. "Listen, is she gone?"

"Yes. I don't know where, only that the boat is gone and my new tenant 
and his dog are gone as well. I'm afraid that she'd go out with him, 
and--"

"Stay right where you are, Mrs. Franklin," the boy said sternly. "Stay 
there, and I'll be right over and we'll go looking for them."

"But--

"In my father's cruiser. Stay there, all right?"

"Yes ... Yes ..."

Clyde hung up and dashed out of the house, not bothering to change from 
his bathing suit in his haste. God damn that Wendy, going off with some 
other guy ... he'd teach her, he'd fix her wagon good when he found her 
...

Marleen placed the phone down and took a deep, shuddering breath. Well, 
she was doing something at last, even if it was only with her 
daughter's boyfriend. She staggered a bit, clutching the glass top of 
the counter, and thought to herself that if she was going to go out on 
the search with Clyde Brooks, she'd better start locking the store up 
for the night. Why not? Business wasn't going to pick up at this late 
hour, and she didn't want to wait on any more customers anyway. She was 
far too worried ...

David Preston would have laughed with delight at the turn of events, 
and as sure as Heaven above, Satan below was having his devil's 
chortle. The plans which were churning that very moment in Preston's 
lewd brain weren't half as diabolical as the coincidence which fate had 
in store for the Franklin daughter and mother ...

Twenty minutes later, Marleen and the boy were dashing across the tide 
waters of Reedsport Bay, searching all the nooks and crannies of the 
shoreline for signs of the Franklin boat. Clyde handled the craft 
expertly over the water, and the sun glistened in its last setting rays 
as if it had been wounded and was bleeding over the ice-blue frostiness 
of wet skin. But the mother wasn't enjoying the view, not in her 
agitated condition.

"She must be here someplace, Clyde," she kept moaning. "She has to be 
... She wouldn't take the boat out past the breakwater. She knows 
better than that, especially with the tide changing."

"Sure she does, Mrs. Franklin," the boy replied, and looked at her as 
she sat huddled against the bulkhead, staring through the glass without 
really seeing anything. He couldn't keep his eyes off her, off the rise 
and fall of her large, taut breasts and the smooth curve of her thigh 
through the short summer shift she wore. It was like looking at a 
reproduction of Wendy, he thought; not exactly twins, but the 
mannerisms, the way they act and talk and feel ... Christ! He'd never 
really noticed the resemblance before, considering Mrs. Franklin just 
another mother to cope with and be around as little as possible while 
taking her daughter out, but she was quite a woman in her own right, 
and if this is how Wendy was going to look in twenty years, wow!

"Mrs. Franklin," he said, "you're all wound up, like a watch spring. It 
isn't going to do any good, the way you are."

Her head swiveled around and she managed to smile wanly at the boy. 
"I'm afraid I've already had a little too much brandy trying to calm 
down."

"Well, there's a little pint of brandy in the shelf beside you, some 
very fine French cognac my dad keeps for chilly nights."

"No, no thank you."

"Well, I could use some," he said with a shiver. "I'm cold inside, if 
not outwardly."

Without thinking about his age or the consequences, Marleen rummaged 
around in the shelf and produced a flat pint bottle of cognac, with 
only a couple of sips taken from it. She unscrewed the top and handed 
it to the boy, who took a large swallow of the dark amber liquor, and 
then he handed it back to her. "Go on, Mrs. Franklin. You're pale as a 
new sheet."

She raised the bottle to her lips, suddenly in need of the strong 
alcohol in her blood, and gave a shudder as the smooth brandy coursed 
down her throat. She smiled at Clyde then, feeling herself blush with 
the pervading warmth of the liquor as it rushed from her stomach to her 
skin.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, and took another large sip.

Clyde laughed and had some more himself. He was a nice boy, Marleen 
thought; considerate and polite, and terribly handsome, with broad 
shoulders and boyish curls and strong legs bulging with the muscles 
from his athletics. No wonder Wendy was attracted to him, and in a 
strange, slight way she felt a little envious of her daughter for being 
so young and just starting out on her road of sexual relationships. 
Sexual was a strong word; she blinked at the audacity of her thought, 
and quickly corrected it in her mind to mean not necessarily the 
physical mating, but the whole involvement of two people. Yes, like she 
and Howie had had, and which now seemed to be denied her, her life as a 
woman dead ...

And reflexively she raised the bottle to her mouth again and drank 
deeply, coughing slightly as the hot liquid fired her belly. She was 
beginning to feel numb again, and wondered if she shouldn't stop 
drinking, because she wanted a clear head when she finally found her 
daughter and/or David Preston. Or did she? Did she really want to be 
perfectly aware of what was going on, what veneer she was going to have 
to paint on herself in order to act the proper mother toward Wendy--
when after last night she knew that she wasn't that kind of person 
underneath? No, no she wanted to be a little high so that the play-
acting could be easier, and so that she wouldn't have to think about 
her own guilt so much ...

Once more she tilted the cognac bottle, and it felt good and warm and 
comforting inside her, and she began to feel better, much better, able 
to handle the situation, whatever it might be ...

They passed the old landing site for the Prohibition rum-runners, and 
then the sprawling Garbonzo estate, now mostly in advanced decay, and 
turned into a small inlet which Clyde knew to be a popular area for 
moonlight "parking," full of flat little beaches and overhanging trees, 
with the tall, statuesque pines and covering shrub climbing on steep 
hills on both sides, adding to the privacy. He slowed, idling the 
engine because the water was shallow and his father's cruiser had a 
larger draft than most of the other craft that used this inlet, and he 
didn't want to chance shearing a cotter pin or breaking a prop. To 
Marleen, the inlet was strange and the darkening shadows of the trees 
over the lapping water filled her with portent; she shivered, drinking 
the brandy in a vain attempt to ward off the icy grip on her heart ...

Suddenly, Clyde said: "Look! There, Mrs. Franklin!"

Marleen strained forward, trying to clear her somewhat blurred vision; 
yes, there was the boat, and she could see the large German Shepherd, 
King, and the indistinct outlines of two people on the beach. She 
couldn't quite make out what they were doing, however, and asked the 
boy beside her: "Dear God, what are they up to?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "We'll have to go and find out."

"I-I'm afraid," she said, drawing back.

"I thought that's what we came out to do!"

"Yes, it is, Clyde, but ..." She couldn't tell him the truth that she 
was mortally afraid of what she would discover, of the scene she would 
be forced to witness and react to, with the certain knowledge of the 
horrid consequences. The bodies she was peering at seemed to be 
together, so joined, as if ... as if ... God, she couldn't even let 
herself think of what it reminded her of! "I've never spied on Wendy 
before, Clyde," she said for lack of anything better. "I wouldn't want 
her to believe I don't trust her any longer."

"We have to do something," the boy said impatiently. "You'll feel 
better if you knew what she was doing, and so would I. But if you don't 
want me to drive the cruiser up on them, then we'll stop over there--" 
he pointed to a similar cove a hundred yards from the beach on which 
Wendy and Preston lay, and almost directly across from him, "--and wade 
ashore and walk around so that we can see them without them seeing us. 
Then we'll know what to do, and they'll never have to realize they've 
been watched if we decide to go."

"All-all right, Clyde. I guess that's the best."

He moved as close to shore as he could and killed the engine. He 
slipped into the water, and then helped Marleen over the side and into 
the warm, salty current. She had her shoes off and held her dress high, 
the water lapping around her lower thighs; Clyde could see the outline 
of her sheer pink panties, the elastic at the bottom as it hugged her 
slim, well proportioned legs, and he couldn't help thinking that her 
legs were every bit as good as her daughter's, and when a wave bit her 
high, drenching her from the waist downwards, the dress clung to her 
firm buttocks and he recalled the way Wendy had looked last night ... 
there was a surge of tingling in his loins, and unwontedly, his cock 
began to swell in his trunks, adding a bulge of noticeable size. God 
damn! He was actually getting excited by this woman ... what a hell of 
a thing to happen!

They reached the shore, the dress was lowered, and she put her shoes 
back on her slim feet, but her body was still a graceful attraction, 
distracting the boy more and more in sheer lascivious fascination. He 
wrenched his thoughts back to what he had to do now, and led the 
frightened mother to a small path at the back of the clearing, which he 
knew from experience meandered behind all of the little coves in a 
connecting foot trail. They stepped silently along the needled ground, 
and had gone about seventy yards when the path dipped on a slant 
towards the clearing where Wendy was. King, sensing the approach of 
strangers, sat up and barked.

Marleen stiffened. "The dog! Do you think that now they'll know we're 
here?"

Clyde placed his hand gently on her arm. "Shhh. Let's wait a minute and 
see. I don't think so, though ..."

King barked again, and then there was a gruff command which Marleen 
immediately knew came from her tenant.

"King! Goddamn it, stop making all that noise ..."

The dog ignored the order, for it began to bark even louder.

The mother and the boy stood in the underbrush, their breaths caught in 
their throats, his hand now tighter on her arm, and she in turn was 
responding by leaning somewhat toward Clyde for protection.

"King!" Preston snapped, and then strangely he laughed. "Stop it, King, 
stop licking my ass! Go on, go over there and lie down. Easy there, big 
fellow."

Stop licking my ass! His words were like shrapnel to the mother, 
exploding in her head with shattering impact. And then, adding insult 
to injury, making Marleen stagger backwards and almost fall down, she 
heard her daughter's higher voice, thick and distorted, squeal out with 
intensity she'd never heard before.

"Ohhhh, to hell with that dog, David. More, more, more!"

"Wendy!" Marleen gasped. She bolted for the clearing, and only the hand 
on her arm restrained her.

"No, Mrs. Franklin, no!" Clyde hissed. "Let's be careful. That's still 
the best way."

"Yes, but hurry," she moaned. She allowed him to guide her to a small 
spot which because of the low overhanging tree boughs, she was forced 
to kneel on the thick grass and part a bush in front of her in order to 
see. Clyde was right behind her, hunkering down so that he could see 
into the clearing as well ...

There was King, again lying off to one side, eyeing them because he 
naturally knew that they were there, but following his master's orders 
not to interfere again ... Marleen's vision moved from the dog to the 
sand and water and ... My God! to the nakedly writhing couple on the 
sand, her only daughter and that stranger!

"Ahhhhh, fuck me, David, fuck me as hard as you can!" she heard her 
Wendy cry out in rapture.

"You little hot vixen, you'll kill me at this rate!" she heard David 
Preston rasp cynically. His sinuous body glistened with perspiration, 
and was on top of Wendy's beautiful, naked young body, wrapped between 
her slender, straining legs, while his powerfully flexed buttocks 
pumped maddeningly and his lips nibbled hotly at one tender breast. 
There was the soft slap of their bodies meeting and the wet surge of 
Preston's giant penis as, hard and shining, it penetrated the soft, 
once virginal little cunt. Their expressions on both their faces were 
of pure lust, their bodies a blending tempo of passion ...

Wendy's mother's mind whirled convulsively, unable because of the 
brandy to fully fathom the scene. Her daughter ... but it couldn't be, 
because Wendy was a virgin! No, no it's some other girl ...

"Jeee-zus!" Clyde whispered behind her. "Look at Wendy go!"

Marleen wriggled with shock and revulsion, trying to crawl backwards 
and away, to go out and stop them, but the boy held her steady.

"Let me go!" she hissed. "Let me go! That's my daughter!"

"I know, I know, but you can't go out there now," Clyde argued. "You 
do, and it'll ruin everything. Christ, she'll never forgive you. Talk 
to her later tonight, when she's cooled down and you're rational. Talk 
it out and be sensible, but don't go out there now!"

"Ohhh," Marleen mewled, tears beginning to flow. "My darling Wendy ..." 
She instinctively realized that Clyde was right, that for her to run 
out and break them up would only lead to a wild, emotionally 
uncontrollable scene which might very well tear the fabric of their 
filial relationship. She had to be calm about it, accept the fact that 
Wendy was experiencing the physical embrace of a man, and then to 
confront her later when they could both be more logical ... She slumped 
against the boy, delirious with the view of Preston's gleaming cock 
sliding fiercely into her young child's wide-splayed belly, sinking his 
blue-veined shaft far into her tender cunt lips. Wendy squealed again 
from the delights of being so brutally fucked, and her mother winced, 
thinking in her dazed, drunken stupor that that was how she had reacted 
to Howie when he was so forceful and hot.

Clyde was sucking his breath fervently, his eyes shimmering with the 
lust-provoking lewdness of the coupling. His penis jerked painfully in 
his trunks, his balls burgeoning with a huge build-up of cum, the cum 
he'd saved up from last night's abortive attempt to fuck Wendy. Christ! 
Wendy loved cock! He'd never seen anything so utterly abandoned as that 
little girl's hungry responsiveness to being pummeled ... and she'd 
acted the innocent last night, swearing she was a virgin! What shit 
that was! Well, he'd get her next time, he'd see to that; he'd fuck her 
and fuck her and then drop her prick-teasing body on her doorstep like 
the garbage she was ... And as he dreamed of being the one shoving his 
cock into the hotly sucking little hole between her legs, he got more 
excited than ever, and unwittingly, drawn by the carnality, he pressed 
against Mrs. Franklin, his hardening cock sliding in the crevice 
between her buttocks as she leaned forward in front of him ...

Marleen was unmindful that she was resting back against the swelling 
length of the boy's throbbing cock, causing it to grow larger and 
stiffer and seep tiny drops of seminal fluid. Her mind was clouded by 
the alcoholic miasma of shock and recollections of what delights a 
man's penis could bring, and though a warning voice sounded that she 
was slipping over the edge again as she had last night, she didn't hear 
it or pay any attention. She was beyond all rationality, her flesh a 
separate entity from her mind, and she couldn't command her lovely body 
to break free from her own bondage or the tightening, thrusting 
physical hold that the boy behind her was increasingly pressing upon 
her. She couldn't do anything except kneel there and peek through the 
brush and watch the flagrant defiling of everything she'd ever 
considered sacrosanct.

Clyde was moving his erect penis along the smooth, warm curve of her 
rounded ass-cheeks, his breathing harsher than ever and he knew that he 
was becoming aroused to the point where he'd fuck anything, even that 
fat pig Rosey, to relieve the burning pain in his loins. But in front 
of him was a very desirable woman--a little old for him perhaps, but 
like fine wine; this one had mellowed with age and not turned into 
vinegar like so many others had. She was there and she was allowing him 
to rub his cock up and down her buttocks, and she could be his to fuck 
... He knew it, and he wanted her, he wanted to fuck Mrs. Franklin 
while they watched her daughter getting fucked, and not only would that 
pop his nuts, but it would be just the right revenge to play on the 
girl. Crazed with increasing lust, spurred on by the lascivious sight 
they'd happened upon, he began to knead the mother's buttocks gently 
while he stroked her crevice with his shaft of hard flesh, and said:

"Look at them, Mrs. Franklin. They're really fucking ..."

"Don't talk that way!" Marleen groaned pitifully. "And ... and take 
your hands off of me, Clyde. This instant!"

But Clyde wasn't about to release his hold, and he pressed his stiff 
member firmly into her quivering ass, bunching her dress up into the 
soft yielding crevice. Then, unable to control himself, he moved one 
hand forward and around underneath Wendy's mother, caressing one 
distended breast, making her squirm and moan and shake uncontrollably.

"Stop it, Clyde ... Oh God, please stop it ... You don't know what 
you're doing," she whispered back at him.

"Yes I do, and you do too, Mrs. Franklin."

Marleen's liquor-crazed, shock-torn mind comprehended then, and she 
tried to stop what was going on, but it was futile. She couldn't move, 
her position a concrete statue, and his hand on her breast was somehow 
too pleasant to fight. And then she became aware for the first time 
that the boy's penis was hard and was teasing along the crevice of her 
buttocks, moving with the same rhythm as Preston's was in and out of 
her daughter's open vagina!

Clyde! He was excited by this! My God how could he be!

She was seared by the terrible carnage of her daughter that was 
happening before her burning eyes, and she was confused and torn with 
conflict ... and now her daughter's boyfriend was kneading her buttocks 
and breasts while his penis pressed against her! She had to fight this! 
She had to fight with all of her strength, but in such a way that her 
daughter would never know that she was here; Good Lord, she must! But 
the soft fingers gently teasing her breast and the erect shaft 
caressing her unresisting cleft was too much for her to bear, and all 
she could do was whimper as lascivious crudities were continued upon 
her flesh, murmuring over and over:

"No ... No... No ..."

And slowly, intensified by the brandy and frozen by the horrid orgy she 
was witnessing, the hapless young mother began to feel strange 
stirrings of new and lewd emotions, becoming a mindless cretin 
hypnotically staring at the perverted intercourse between Wendy and 
Preston. She couldn't allow herself to admit that she was being 
aroused, that the revolting ugliness which was straining her soul was 
being replaced by a tighter, freer sensation coming from deep within 
her thighs. The insides of her mouth were dry, but she felt a growing 
wetness around her vagina, and she clamped her legs together to shut 
the unwanted ticklings off. But the lewdly fascinating sight of her 
daughter, acting so much the way she had with Howie when she hadn't 
been much older, overran her barriers and defenses, and she couldn't 
resist the tempting strokes of the boy behind her, which added fuel of 
passion to her already hot, drunken brain. Bared to the bone and marrow 
of her needs and drives, Marleen Franklin allowed herself to become 
what she'd so long denied herself to be: a woman.

A woman!

And the woman, viewing two other humans mating, responded as the basic, 
natural female human would: heatedly, passionately, sensuously ... She 
couldn't fight it, couldn't put the lid back on after the pressure of 
the situation had blown it off. It was too late, and due to the many 
years of satisfied sexual life with her late husband, her body was like 
a Phoenix bird, rising from the ashes of her past, rather than like her 
daughter, from the new-birth of discovery. And though repulsed by the 
conscious knowledge that it was Wendy out there on the sand being 
fucked, at the same time she was drawn strongly by that fact, 
subconsciously watching herself as a young girl relishing sex. She felt 
each powerful thrust of Preston's cock as if his long shaft was buried 
deep in her own cunt, and that only excited her more ... Her nipples 
were hard nubs of passion, and lances of prurient desire soared ever 
stronger through her body; she had gone without sex too long, and now 
she was fevered with the uncontrollable urge to mate, a raging inferno 
consuming her vagina and hips, and involuntarily, she thrust her 
buttocks back against Clyde's prick, drawing it closer and tighter into 
the valley between her smooth rounded ass cheeks, moving her chest so 
that her breasts rubbed harder against his probing fingers. Breath 
spewed in and out in gasps, her nostrils flared, her glazed eyes locked 
on the wildly fucking couple a few yards away.

The boy bent Marleen forward slightly with the pressure of his body, 
his hands working on her swollen breasts and buttocks, and then he took 
his hand away from her backside and lifted the hem of her damp dress 
upwards, until her bare thighs were white and shiningly presented to 
his lusting gaze. He bunched her dress around her waist and then his 
nimble fingers slowly caressed the soft silkiness of her sheer panties, 
tracing around their secretion band and the deep cleft of her vaginal 
lips.

Marleen moaned softly so as not to be heard by the lewdly fucking 
couple on the beach.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" he whispered lewdly in her ear. "It feels 
good ... but it's going to get better!"

The mother tried to pull away, but a ravishing shock rippled along her 
belly as Clyde Brooks slipped his hand under her thin panties and 
inserted his middle finger into the narrow, sensitive slit of her wetly 
throbbing pussy, slowly parting her curly pubic hair and making 
electric contact with her clitoris. She sobbed, choking, but there was 
nothing Marleen could do against the mounting pleasure suffocating all 
thoughts of resistance, and to her horror, she discovered that she was 
reacting with wetness flowing around his hand and an unintentional 
flexing of her loins in a mockery of the act of love. Weakly she rolled 
her head back and forth in protest, but couldn't fight back when the 
boy bent forward a little more and slid her panties down her full, ripe 
buttocks and voluptuous thighs, or when he raised first one leg and 
then the other to remove them altogether and throw them aside, stained 
and dirty.

"God, Clyde, this is insane! Stop it! Please, stop it!"

"Why?" he asked throatily, his fingers once more exploring the now 
swollen, aching lips of her vagina. "I want to fuck, you want to fuck 
... look at your daughter, Wendy, and that naked man, Mrs. Franklin, 
and you'll see that they are loving it!"

Marleen gaped, her attention riveted momentarily on her daughter and 
their new boarder, seeing his thick, fleshy column slide in Wendy's 
wet, hair-fringed little cunt, and the cords along her inner thighs 
hard and gripping as she pushed her tight pink pussy up over his 
gleaming shaft, slithering up Preston's cock, her heaving thighs and 
buttocks churning the sand, his hairy balls slapping in time against 
her faintly puckered anus.

"See that, Mrs. Franklin?" Clyde taunted, and he began to wrench his 
bathing suit down, his urge to fuck his girlfriend's mother beyond all 
control. "See? She's got her legs spread wide open so that his cock can 
fuck her deep, right up to her belly!"

"Ohhhhhh, God," moaned the abjectly defeated woman. She saw out of the 
corner of her eye that the boy was removing his trunks, and saw his 
hard, thick cock in his hand as it leapt full-sized from his loins. 
Then she felt him spread her buttocks and guide his penis forward, its 
thin shine of lubrication over its purplish head wetting unnecessarily 
her already matted pubic hair. She groaned as the first hard pressure 
teased against her pussy lips and she automatically moved her buttocks 
around so that it was just right and poised rigidly at her moistly 
waiting channel ...

"I'm going to fuck you now, Mrs. Franklin," Clyde wheezed.

"Yes, oh yes!" She no longer cared who it was, whether he was a boy or 
an old man, just so long as he had a cock to shove in her. She spread 
her thighs wider and he slid his penis into her tender flesh, and 
slammed all the way until every last throbbing inch of his fleshy shaft 
was gripped deep up in her unresisting vagina. She felt fantastically 
warm and was reduced to a state of quivering, seething womanhood. Oh 
God, he feels good inside me ... I'd forgotten just how good a man can 
make me feel ...

Clyde drew his swollen cock out of her hotly clinging cunt and then 
slid it home again, drawing it out once more to stare down at its full 
glistening length, slick with her lubrications, and then he surged 
forward into a pattern of fucking, a pumping into her cuntal passage in 
the same tempo as Preston was fucking Wendy.

"Ahhhhh," Marleen crooned delightedly, unable to restrain her agonizing 
yet rapturous moanings which burst like bubbles from her lungs. 
"Ahhhhh, yes ... Yes!" Her legs twitched and her toes curled and dug 
into the soft grass and moss and she lurched back to receive more of 
his heavenly pounding cock, her fists gripping the bush in front of 
her. "Ohhhhh, yeeeeesssss!"

The mother's firm breasts danced wildly below her churning body, her 
bra barely able to contain them. Clyde bucked and twisted, kneading her 
naked white buttocks convulsively, wrapping the hot, moist, shimmering 
flesh tight around his pistoning shaft, his mind insane with the 
pressure of his impending climax, his testicles a ferment of lust, 
Wendy's mother was lost in the throes of lewd, unchecked sensations 
which she realized signaled an orgasm ... God! An orgasm! How long had 
it been since a man had given her an orgasm? Years! Six years ... and 
how could she have been so blind to deny her body this delight! The 
very thought of her near climax made her join in and match the hardened 
thrusts which her daughter's young boyfriend threw into her cunt with 
ever increasing rapidity. She had to cum ... she had to cum ... she had 
to achieve that rapturous and ultimate release!

She continued to stare at her daughter, her grown seed, as Wendy bucked 
and howled from the same building demand for orgasm. Marleen watched 
with lust-fogged eyes as the teenage girl jack-knifed her legs straight 
up in the air and a high, thin wail bubbled from her lips. Her daughter 
was there! Wendy was cumming! The girl beat her hands on Preston's 
glistening back, her lips pulled over her white, sharp teeth, her eyes 
clenched shut.

"Ahhhhh! I'm cumming again, David! I'm ... cuuuummmmiinnnggg!"

Preston's large body hurtled downwards without restriction in an insane 
fury as his own climax hit, and his balls convulsed with their spasming 
shoots of hot sperm, inundating the tight pink belly of the girl 
beneath him for the third--or was it the fourth--time that day, 
mingling with his other orgasms and her lubrications, gushing from her 
tightly locked hole and spewing onto her buttocks and the sand below.

The mother's vagina gaped in greedily responding passion, taking all of 
the young boy's penis that he was now sawing mercilessly into her, and 
then she felt his cock expanded like a huge, unrelenting animal, 
filling her with a raging and hurtling torrent of thick, sticky cum. It 
was a dream ... a delirious nightmare! God, may she never wake up from 
it! Gusher after gusher poured through his virile young shaft, filling 
her eagerly milking cunt to its brim.

"Yesssss!" she squealed loudly, unmindful of where she was or who might 
hear, overcome by the heated spurts of boyish semen which lashed her 
cervix and the tidal wave of her own climax. She came. Oh Lord above, 
she came! "Ahhhhh!"

It was the most beautiful thing that she could remember ever having 
happened to her since Howie died. The last time she'd been made love to 
was so dim in her memory that it was almost like this was her first 
time all over again, and incomprehensible gurglings rose ecstatically 
from her slender throat, and she was all but rendered unconscious by 
the sledge-hammer blow of her orgasm. Her legs grew limp and she slid 
forward, off the now limp penis of the boy behind her, blissfully 
satiated ...

But after a moment's respite, a semblance of sanity returned and she 
saw now with clear vision her daughter, barely old enough to know what 
sex was about, wrapped in the arms of their boarder, David Preston, but 
sitting up with her legs bent in such a way as to show the soft matted 
pubic hair of her recent climax, the older man's glistening white sperm 
clinging in tiny droplets to it. And Wendy was staring, her eyes as big 
as saucers, right at her mother.

Marleen froze, humiliation and terror replacing the joy of a second 
ago, and tears flooded down her face as she realized that her cry of 
orgasmic release had been heard by her daughter and Preston, and that 
she and Clyde had been discovered.

She slowly staggered upright, bent over to retrieve her flimsy panties, 
benumbed and sick, her senses a whirlwind of contrition. Without really 
thinking about what she was doing, only feeling that it was the only 
thing, the best thing under the circumstances, she turned and slowly 
started for her daughter.

"Wendy ..."

"Mother!"



Chapter 6


Marleen's shrill yell of orgasmic release, as loud and tremulous as it 
was, blasted at Wendy's brain, sliced through her own climactic 
satiation, her first reaction being that she had been discovered in 
this lewd spectacle by strangers. She didn't know who or what had come 
along, only that somebody had and was screaming with terror or 
indignation or revulsion, and she raised herself from the warming, 
loving arms of David Preston, nearly fainting with fear, shaking the 
last comatose vestiges of her passionate response from her terror-
stricken mind, the delights of cumming with this man's penis 
ejaculating in her lost as the need for escape ran rampant through her 
mind.

Then, with a terrifying burst of recognition, she saw her mother! Her 
mother! Oh God above, nothing could be worse than this, the young 
teenager thought in wretched horror, that split second of comprehension 
that her mother was a few feet away searing itself on her reeling brain 
like a branding iron. She moaned as her eyes locked with her mother's, 
and then she looked down at herself, at her fresh, young skin flushed 
pink with her excitement, her dark-tipped breasts heaving and 
glistening with beads of sweat, and her pubic area nestling in between 
her clenched thighs, with their swollen, inflamed lips and abused cunt; 
at the whole of her naked, curvaceous body--and she wanted the beach to 
open up and swallow her into the hell she deserved.

Her vision took it in, her mind absorbed the view, but what happened 
next came so suddenly as to blot out evaluation other than the 
immediate one of who and where she was, and who had caught her nakedly 
entwined with a man like this. Her mother stood up from behind the 
concealing shrubbery, and a whole new picture of the depraved scene 
presented itself to shock the teenager almost insensate. Her mother 
wasn't standing in gaped-eyed horror at her daughter's lewdness, ready 
to bolt in tear-filled disgust--she was tottering in shame, holding a 
pair of wet, pink panties in her hand, her face blanched the color of 
white flour and her expression that of shame and humiliation!

Wendy's whole chest and throat felt as if a steel band was being 
tightened, for she tried to speak, but couldn't. She was immobile, held 
rigid by uncomprehending, tormenting, disbelief, but as the bushes 
parted and her mother started slowly across the small distance of sand 
to her, she saw for the first time exactly what the whole, filthy 
situation was like, and, in total disillusionment, the force of pent-up 
air inside her burst forth:

"Mother!"

"Wendy!" The wail sounded as if coming from the death-bed of a terminal 
patient in the last agonies of pain, and Marleen Franklin crossed 
toward Wendy and Preston the way a condemned man is led to the gallows-
-without a choice, but devoutly wishing there was one ...

The stunned daughter stared wildly at the rumpled dress and ivory, 
naked thighs and the long rivulets of sperm which were staining 
trickles of consummated intercourse down the insides of her legs ... 
and if there had been any doubt in Wendy's mind as to what had been 
going on, it was dispelled by the naked torso of Clyde Brooks behind 
her, crouched on the ground, his drained young penis rapidly deflating, 
but still hard enough and glistening enough to show the traces of what 
he'd been doing to her mother. In that instant, Wendy realized that her 
mother had just been fucked by her boyfriend while spying on her and 
David! It was impossible but true! She couldn't ignore the facts, and 
the facts made her fling herself from the older man she'd been fucking, 
her face drained of blood and her soul surging with loathing and 
horror.

Her own mother! That was the horrible part, for such a decadent act as 
this was to be expected from such a boy as Clyde--but it was her 
prudish, Victorian mother, that pillar of do-goodism and purity, that 
she couldn't control the unreasoning anger which seized her, and 
emitting an animal-like growl of disgust, and vengeance, she cried out:

"Whore!"

Marleen staggered from the blow of castigation, flinging an arm across 
her eyes. "Wendy, please Wendy ..."

"Don't talk to me! Don't say one word of explanation!" the girl 
shrieked, her emotions swirling in her head, "You're nothing but a 
nympho!"

"Oh God," Marleen moaned, sinking to the sand, unable to make her feet 
go a step further to her daughter. This was the final point of no 
return. No longer could she hope to hold her darling child in her lap 
and cuddle her, or warmly and tenderly give her advice, or offer her 
security or mothering; tears flooded down her dress from the soul-
sickness and self-loathing with filled her, and she shook as if 
infected with yellow fever from the knowledge that she had lost her 
daughter by the betrayal of her body and the moral turpitude that she'd 
allowed to blank her mind. Her guilt had been bad enough the night 
before, but then she'd been alone and could make adjustments--but now, 
this time it wasn't in private, it was in front of two men and Wendy, 
and she knew that she was sick, no better than the whore her daughter 
spat as an accusation.

"What the hell are you so upset about, Wendy?" Preston said, still 
sprawled on the sand and grinning a knowing smirk. At first he'd been 
as afraid as Wendy, but having adjudged the situation, realized that 
the mother had been fucking right along with them, he was feeling 
damned good. He was safe, and perhaps he could turn things around now 
and score with Marleen, making a mother-daughter combination out of 
things ... "I mean it, little one," he said as Wendy turned to stare 
incredulously at him. "What was your mother doing that you weren't?"

"That's different!" she yelled hotly, standing naked and wet, but 
defiantly with her small fists clenched to her firm, smooth hips. For 
Wendy was being ruled by hurt and pride, determined to believe that 
what had happened to her was somehow, some way all her mother's fault, 
refusing to admit to herself in the heat of the moment that any blame 
could be attached to her or that there was the slightest excuse for her 
mother's actions. And again, the closeness which had tied her and her 
mother so strongly since her father's death had instilled an image of 
her in Wendy's mind that no human being could possibly live up to, and 
a love which bordered on adoration--the combination once so binding was 
now reversed, and the girl was enraged and bitter with the feeling of 
having been betrayed.

"Sure it is," Clyde said snidely, coming over. He, too, was now 
enjoying the scene. It was the perfect aftermath to his revenge, and 
after seeing that the older man wasn't the least bit concerned about 
covering himself or trying to stammer out some stupid reason for having 
fucked the girl, he saw that where once the two females might have 
caused him and the man untold damage--legally and socially--now the 
tables had been turned. And Wendy had been the one to do it, with her 
stuck-up, snotty bitchiness; he didn't want Mrs. Franklin to suffer 
however, and only wanted to make things more difficult for the 
daughter, so he sneered at Wendy, contemptuous of her faade of 
righteous indignation. He ogled her outrageous stance, the sticky cum 
from Preston's many orgasms plastered to her pubic curls and alabaster 
skin, her nipples still hard from their arousal and wet from their many 
kissings, and her firm, tender body which was covered with the prints 
of the strong hands which had gripped her.

"You're a fine one to talk, you little prick-teaser," he snarled. 
"Wouldn't let me fuck you last night, but you sure loved it here with 
this guy. So what makes you Miss Snow-White when you find out that your 
mom isn't any saint? It's not different at all."

"You--" Wendy was beside herself with fury. "You bastard! Don't you 
dare talk to me like that! I could kill you!"

"What for?" Preston asked calmly, looking up. "Why should you want to 
kill him?"

"For ... For ..." the girl gasped, choking. She waved her hands at her 
mother. "For this!"

"Mm," the man said, pursing his lips. "Would this be your boyfriend you 
were telling me about? Clyde?"

"He's no boyfriend of mine!"

"But he was fucking your mother, and now you want to kill him."

A low moan of agony bubbled from Marleen's lips and she sobbed in a 
limp heap on the sand in a futile effort to cover her shame.

"Yes!" Wendy snapped at Preston, "for fucking my mother!"

"In that case, doesn't your mother have the right to kill me first? 
Weren't we fucking before they were? Well? Aren't you naked, caught in 
the act? You call your mother a whore and a nymphomaniac, but if that's 
true, aren't you the same?"

"But she's my mother!" Wendy cried out, shaken by the onslaught of the 
two males. "Was she horrified that her daughter was being practically 
raped? No! She got turned on and ended up rutting like some beast, like 
a bitch with your damned dog, only with a boy half her age! That's the 
difference, Mr. Preston!"

"Ohhhh," the mother wailed, cringing as if the words she heard were 
lashings from a barbed whip. "God forgive me, God forgive us all." She 
stretched up, her hands clasped imploringly in front of her toward 
Wendy. "You forgive me, my child. Please say you do."

Wendy only turned her back. "I'll never forgive you for what you did. 
Spying on me like some horny old voyeur in a peep-show, getting your 
kicks, ending up screwing Clyde."

"Oh, darling, I couldn't help myself. You mustn't hate me, Wendy, you 
mustn't. I've been so long without a man ..."

"So she saw us," Preston threw back. "Big deal. So she got excited by 
it, well that's human, too. Sex is exciting, Wendy; why do you think 
there's so much of it around? Look at the ads, the books, the films. 
Jesus, grow up and stop being such a prude."

"A prude!" Wendy blurted. "I'm not a prude!"

"You sure the hell are. You loved fucking with me, and yet you refuse 
to allow your mother the same God-given privilege, and refuse to admit 
that you were doing the exact same thing, right down to getting hot 
watching! You did get hot, didn't you, watching your mother fingering 
herself last night."

"No," she said too quickly, blushing. "I was sickened."

"You ... you saw me?" Marleen asked incredulously and in a hushed, 
hoarse voice. "You saw ...?" Oh God, it was worse than ever!

"Well, I don't care if I did get hot," Wendy snapped defensively at 
Preston. "You sound as if you think it was great that my mother was 
doing it with Clyde while watching us."

"I do ... as long as she enjoyed it," he replied smugly.

"And, and I bet you'd like to fuck her yourself!"

"Yeah, I would, she'd be damned fine." He grinned lasciviously. "Fuck a 
hell of a lot like you, I'd guess."

"Ohhhhh!" the disturbed teenager moaned, and she whirled around and 
dashed from the beach, tears of humiliation and confusion, anger and 
bitterness flying from her eyes, the shock of finding her mother making 
love to Clyde coupled with her own loss of innocence and the smarting 
remarks by Preston too much for her dazed, benumbed senses to handle. 
Her only thought was to run--run anywhere as long as it was away from 
there. She crashed and stumbled down the path, not minding the briars 
and whipping branches that seemed to try and stop her. There was no 
more she could say or do, not now, not at any time. She'd never go back 
to her mother; never, never, never!

"Wendy!" Clyde yelled, and spun to start after her, but Preston placed 
a restraining hand on his arm, preventing the boy from hurtling in 
chase for the girl. "Let go! Let go, you son of bitch!" Clyde roared at 
the man. "I've got to get to her before--"

"Before nothing," Preston said sternly. "There's not a thing you can do 
for her right now, and you'd only make matters worse. Believe me. Stay 
here."

"But--"

"Her mother is the one who should go after Wendy."

From the quivering, wretched woman lying on the ground came the 
murmuring, trembling chant, "No ... No ... No."

"Yes, Marleen," Preston said, hunkering his naked body down beside her. 
"You must talk to her, somehow convince her that what she saw and did 
wasn't some horrid sin."

Mrs. Franklin felt as if she was made of molten lead, her muscles ties 
of spasming knots which made her want to jump, but the pain in her mind 
throbbed with an irrational heat which forced her to lie still. She 
couldn't think, couldn't act ... everything was secondary to the shame 
and remorse she wallowed in, the indelible self-accusation that she was 
everything her daughter had called her far more damning than Wendy's 
invectives. What difference did it make whether Wendy was being made 
love to, what excuse was it that her child was doing it first? None--
for that was what Wendy was, a child, easily led astray; she as her 
mother should be there to save her, to defend her innocence from 
sensuality instead of becoming a lewd partner in the wild debauchery. 
Her long entombed desires, bursting into freedom from the erotic 
presence of Preston, the brandy, and then the lascivious sight on the 
beach were the reasons for her actions, but not exonerations. She 
wanted to die ...

"Listen to me, Marleen," Preston said softly.

"No, go away," she mewled defenselessly. "Leave me alone ..."

"You want your daughter to forgive you, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, but she won't. She can't."

"Nonsense! She shouldn't have to forgive you, because there's nothing 
to forgive ..."

"Oh God, there is," she croaked fervently. "I was like an animal, just 
like your dog's bitches in heat, just like Wendy said."

"You were a human being. A woman, enjoying a man the way nature 
intended you to, and built half of your body to, and regulates your 
chemistry too. I told Wendy to be honest with herself, and I'm telling 
you the same thing, and if you'll be honest, you'll see that you had 
one hell of a good time and nobody was harmed, not as long as you don't 
go around thinking sex is dirty."

"I never had another man except my husband," Marleen groaned. "Marriage 
... love ... fidelity ..." she babbled in a husky broken shell of a 
voice.

"Sure, and when you find a man to love again, then the sex you have 
will be fuller and more meaningful than any other, but there's also the 
sensible truth that sex for physical gratification is also an important 
part to a healthy person's life. Now stop blaming yourself for being 
what you are and go after Wendy. She needs you ..."

For a moment, the mother hesitated in mindless turmoil, trying to sort 
out her upheaval of moral outlook. The amorality which Preston was 
propositioning was against everything she'd ever believed in or taught 
Wendy to revere, and he was wrong ... And yet, she had liked seeing her 
daughter and Preston making love, liked it and became excited by it and 
had reveled in Clyde's young penis driving hotly up inside her vagina--
and it had been all too obvious that her daughter had loved Preston's 
cock inside her, too. She shook her head; how could she even admit that 
she wanted it this way? The revelation that she did made matters even 
worse, bothering her still more, for now she was sure she was sick and 
perverted, feeling no true shame for her actions, but only an emptiness 
and ache inside her belly which was even now crying out for more. Her 
flesh had not only betrayed her, but she knew intuitively it would 
again and again, if and when the opportunities arose.

Slowly, like an automaton, she rose and straightened her wrinkled 
dress. She averted her eyes, wet and puffed, from Clyde and the man who 
had taken her daughter's virginity, a shiver of nausea rippling through 
her as she considered once again Wendy and her hatred. But in the one 
fact that she had to go after her daughter again, Preston was right. 
She had to make every effort to reconcile their disgraces, to rebond 
the tight adhesion between them. It was with that one slim hope, and 
the prayer that Wendy would have cooled down a little by the time she 
reached her, that made Marleen lurch forward in the direction her 
daughter had fled.

"What do we do now?" Clyde asked, puzzled.

"We wait," Preston said confidently. "We wait and let nature take her 
course. And then, in a little while, we'll go looking for them. You, me 
... and King."

*   *   *

Wendy Franklin, once virgin, once so sure of herself, slumped to the 
moss-covered ground in a small glade, panting exhaustedly from her 
running exertion and emotional frenzy. Her skin was pale and flowing 
with cold water in place of blood, and she was as confused a little 
girl as any could have been. She lay down, letting the last warming 
rays of the sun filter through the trees and dapple her soft skin, and 
she tried to sort out her ambivalent feelings now that the first, 
blushing shock of all that had transpired was wearing off.

Mentally she was enmeshed in the guilt of having succumbed to 
temptation and allowed herself to display her sweet; tender pussy to 
Clyde last night, and abandon herself to David Preston today, and she 
swallowed and looked ashamedly down at her young, firm body with its 
snowy breasts and flat stomach and dark triangle of fleecy pubic hair, 
and she had to admit that there weren't any signs of dissipation, that 
outwardly there was no way of telling that she had just been soundly 
fucked--except for the dried patches of Preston's sperm on her matted 
pubic hair and white, trembling thighs. Miserably, she realized that 
although her dream had been hopelessly shattered, that now her husband-
-whoever he might be someday--would no longer be able to tenderly enter 
her and possess her as a virginal bride, she wasn't entirely filled 
with abomination. There were the long-standing agonies to contend with, 
but they were in the back of her mind now, all of the warnings she'd 
been weaned on so much hot air after seeing her mother and Clyde.

Her mother. She couldn't believe it about her, a woman so prim and 
proper about sex and morality, suddenly rolling in lewdness as if she 
was ... she was ... Wendy sat up, her eyes wide open and her mouth 
agape at the shock of the realization which tore through her reveries. 
Say it, she commanded herself; be honest with yourself if with no one 
else--and to the woods and the silent world around her, she said it out 
loud:

"My mother was acting like me!"

The trees bounced her words, making them echo in her ears, and for the 
first time, the young teenager saw the wisdom in Preston's remarks. 
There was no difference between her and her mother; both of them were 
capable of sex! She saw now that her lashings were irrational, her 
accusations unjustified, and her mother's anguished plea to be forgiven 
and understood the really important thing. She bit her lower lip, 
wishing she could go back and change what had happened, and beg her 
mother for forgiveness and understanding and love in return, and then 
perhaps the two of them could make a joint effort to face their 
collective lives ahead with meaning and pride.

Wendy was no longer filled with anger or loathing, but with a new and 
consuming closeness and love for her mother who had also just been 
fucked soundly by her boyfriend, just as she had been fucked by 
Preston. She wanted to rush back and tell her mother this discovery, 
for she vowed that from this second on, there would be no more false 
pretenses, no guilt or shame about what they were or would be in the 
future, and this knowing and sharing would bring them together closer 
than ever before.

The lovely young child smiled, suddenly free, and she stretched out and 
thought that later, when things had calmed down, she and Mother could 
have a real heart-to-heart talk privately and openly. And she would 
tell her mother all about how she had lost her virginity today and 
wasn't sorry about it, any more than she was sorry that Clyde and her 
mother had been watching her and doing it at the same time. It was 
exciting thinking about that ... about the way David Preston had split 
her little hymen, ravished her cunt, her breasts swollen and aching 
from his hands and lips, and the way she'd willingly allowed the man to 
fuck her over and over ...

And hidden behind her had been her mother, on all fours, her dress 
hiked around her waist, writhing in some lewd dance of lust, her body 
arching and quaking from the glistening hard cock that was being pumped 
demonically into her vagina--the vagina which had produced Wendy ...

The marijuana, fed in such large quantities into her system, but 
temporarily balanced by the trauma of being found by, and finding out 
about, her mother, came back stronger than ever, making the erotic 
scenes vivid in Wendy's mind. Once more her heated blood beat headily 
with its effects, forcing her brain to dream and her flesh to react ...

She looked down at her nakedness once more, the little girl exploring 
her breasts and loins as the salacious thoughts filtered behind her 
eyes, and she found her body still sensitive in a delightful, tingling 
way, her moist young pussy still swollen and pink, her soft fringe of 
curling pubic hair parted to show her wet, tantalizing little vaginal 
hole. She slowly drew a finger there in curiosity, wondering what it 
was like now that a man's penis had invaded it, and she concluded that 
it was only slightly larger and far more sensitive than before; she let 
her finger draw its way from her tiny hairless anus to her throbbing 
little clitoris ... David's cum is still wet and deep in my tight, 
newly awakened pussy, she thought warmly, no longer subject to the 
shameful feeling of sordidness she'd felt before.

Wendy placed a hand on her tender breasts then, and she recalled how 
she'd watched with lewd fascination as her mother had massaged her own 
breasts while masturbating last night, and then she remembered how 
Preston had taken hers and made them come alive. Yes, alive, taut and 
puckish in uplifting supplication, and made her beg for his huge, 
ramrod cock to salve her palpitating cunt. She squeezed her breasts, 
feeling the surging of passion, and her thumb flicked gingerly over the 
hard, quivering nipple ...

God! What is the fire I feel? Wendy gulped, her breath ragged and 
pulsating. Control yourself ... She gazed at her nude loins, seeing 
them outwardly calm but sensing them to be already burning with newly 
kindled desire. I just got fucked ... I can't be wanting more ... But 
she was, partly because of her freedom and introduction to the adult 
world of sex, and partly due to the aphrodisiac qualities of the 
marijuana which the unscrupulous David Preston had tricked her into 
smoking, and which was a rampant fog obliterating her normal 
tendencies. Her pink-rimmed cunt lips twitched and spasmed through the 
slight covering of pubic hair, and as sore as her vagina was, she 
spread her legs and drew the lips apart so that her pink flesh and 
clitoris were visible to her, and she gazed spellbound by the darker, 
wetter opening where Preston had so recently shoved his merciless cock 
over and over, and into which he'd spewed his continual loads of 
seething white cum. Groaning, she lay back on the soft mat of grass and 
moss, the blood fermenting as still more memories of Preston's thick, 
pulsing cock and heavy testicles and her mother's full-breasted and 
desire-hot body responding ...

Her hips dug into the earth and before Wendy could gather the strength 
to resist the compelling flames in her belly and pussy, she began 
rubbing her hand up and down her dark, moist vagina and smooth, satin-
soft inner thighs, her fingers moving gently over her coral-tinged 
pussy lips. A roaring tide of arousal flowed over her as she did, and 
she started to heave and pump as she became more engrossed in her naked 
abandonment.

I can't stop myself ... But I don't want to, not any longer. I want to 
do everything, feel everything ... and this isn't wrong, it can't be 
wrong ... because Mother was doing it to herself ...

Marleen walked in a sort of stumbling, determined lurch, coming upon 
Wendy wide-splayed under a tree before she really knew what she was 
witnessing. She sucked in her breath, her eyes bulging as she saw her 
daughter jerking her hips off the ground and exposing her moist, hair-
rimmed cunt to the world, and she was horrified to see Wendy's slender 
fingers pistoning with the regularity of a penis inside her throbbing 
hole. She stared, enamored for some unknown reason, unable to tear her 
eyes from the wanton display of self-arousal, at where she'd seen 
Preston's cock slide in and out and overflow it with his sperm, and 
which now was being ruthlessly manipulated by Wendy herself.

The teenager was unaware that her mother was watching, whipping her 
fingers deep in her lust-dampened furrow, her legs bent wide to allow 
herself full access as she desperately massaged her slim youthful 
pussy-slit, her pink vaginal flesh red with excitement and her breasts 
rising and falling as she clenched her teeth, her head back and eyes 
shut.

"Wendy," her mother moaned at the depths to which her daughter had 
sunk.

Wendy looked up dreamily but never slackened her throbbing rhythm. She 
didn't care that her mother saw her like this, and in fact was glad, 
for this was the only way they could ever get together as she so 
fervently desired now. That, and the exquisite pleasure in her loins 
and flaming cunt was too good to halt; she had to continue to her 
climax. She smiled warmly, her answering voice throaty and in gasps.

"Dear mother ... I love you ..."

"You don't! You're doing this to torture me!" Marleen wailed. "You saw 
me last night doing this, and now ... now you want me to feel even 
worse than I already do. Stop it! I beg of you to forgive me and stop 
torturing me!"

"You ... you don't understand, Mother. I love you, I really do ... and 
I'm fingering myself because I enjoy it. We both know we play with our 
pussies, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. Love me ... please come 
here and love me ..."

"You, you don't hate me?" Marleen asked incredulously.

"No, no longer--we're alike ... Ahhhh, this feels good, almost as good 
as a cock inside me ... We're the same, you and I ... you've got the 
same right for sex ... as I do!"

"Darling!" Marleen cried out, and dropped beside her daughter, hugging 
her naked body to her, unable to comprehend the sudden change, but too 
relieved to question it. Her child didn't hate her ... and that's all 
that mattered. Still Wendy didn't stop her manipulations, nestling 
close to her mother's breast, but her hand a burning, surging slave to 
her physical drives. Marleen tried to avert her eyes from the splayed 
cunt, at her child's loins undulating against her and the tender 
agitated pussy.

"Stop it, darling." she moaned. "You must, really."

"No," Wendy gurgled ecstatically. "I watched you ... last night I 
watched you do the same thing to your cunt and I ... I got excited as 
hell. Doesn't this excite you?" She panted breathlessly and parted her 
thighs wider and rotated her naked buttocks around, her fingers moving 
and encircling her sparse pubic curls and swollen vaginal lips as she 
pumped madly into her cuntal tunnel. Her brain was on fire from her 
delights, and goaded on to faster and faster action by the marijuana 
Preston had made her smoke. She couldn't stop--she didn't want to stop-
-and she had to make her mother understand this.

Marleen's gaze was fixed on her daughter's cunt, her belly a thousand 
butterflies. She was awfully mixed up, because she had expressly gone 
after Wendy to try and be open and honest with her, only to find out 
that she was now the one who was being afraid to face reality. She'd 
lain in her bed last night and listened to Preston having his penis 
sucked and done the very thing her daughter was doing now, and she'd 
loved the feeling then ... and as she watched now, she was drawn 
strongly by the natural attraction of flesh and blood, and she cringed, 
only to be pulled yet closer. It scared her, and made her throat go dry 
and as if trying to comfort herself, she soothingly caressed her 
daughter's naked back and shoulders, smelling the young, sweet hair and 
feeling Wendy's taut breasts against her bra-encased mounds. She 
suddenly realized that her child's question had to be answered, and it 
was with wrenching terror that Marleen sensed that her thighs were 
actually tingling with some kind of unwanted, perverted response to 
Wendy's immorality.

"Tell me ... tell me, Mother," Wendy demanded. "Doesn't this excite 
you? Ahhhh, it feels so goood ..."

"Wendy--" Her mother moaned, a deep moistness pervading her empathetic, 
dilating cunt, and little droplets of desire started to form on the 
fleecy pubic hair covering her softly swelling vaginal lips. She 
groaned and tried to fight off her natural inclinations, clenching her 
inner thighs together. "Wendy, darling ..."

"I'm being honest! I'm being grown-up enough to admit it," the drug-
driven young teenager moaned. "Please Mother, please if you value our 
love ..."

"Wendy--" She shuddered as she stared harder at her child's glistening 
lips and rosette of her rectal opening, for she was excited, becoming 
more excited all the time, and she was forced to admit that she was 
strangely attracted by her daughter's dainty pink flesh and nestling 
clitoris and the delirium of Wendy's whipping masturbations. "Wendy," 
she heard herself say chokingly, "Yes, Wendy, I'm excited. Oh God, I'm 
excited by you!"

"Mother ... Dearest, loving Mother ..."

She took her hand from her breast then, unable to control the 
insatiable desire to touch her mother, and one trembling finger brushed 
against Marleen's satiny, firm thigh, moving upwards under the short 
summer dress. Wendy had always considered love between women as 
abhorrent, but as her hand massaged her inflamed pussy and clitoris, 
the teenager was charged with the contact of her mother.

"Wendy!" her mother gasped, a sudden electric shock convulsing her body 
from the lancing touch of Wendy's fingers on her burning loins. It was 
the soft, feather-light creeping to her quivering vagina, the sight of 
her child's sensitive pink flesh and the way it flowered to the rubbing 
hand, the sights and sounds of Wendy making love on the beach and the 
joy of the young boy, Clyde's, penis fucking her ... It was everything 
mingling with her strong, maternal love--and it was not to be denied. 
She trembled and moaned from the salacious and unwelcome passions 
gripping her belly and breasts, for now Wendy had reached her moistly 
hot cunt and was moving up and down as she was in her own pussy, and 
Marleen was unable to stop from arching her buttocks and letting one 
leg slowly bend in response.

"Stop, darling ... Ohhhh, stop this. It isn't right ... We're women, 
we're mother and daughter ... Ohhh, it isn't natural ..."

"Pleasure is the only thing natural," Wendy said thickly. "The rest is 
artificial and false ... Look at all of the pain and suffering we've 
gone through. No longer, Mother ... I love you too much to allow it to 
happen again."

Marleen couldn't reply, her voice caught in her throat, and her body 
wracked as her mind cried out in rejection.

"Yes, you are excited, Mother. You like this as much as I do, and your 
pussy's so hot that you can't stand it." She stopped her own fingerings 
now, intent on sliding her one hand in and out of her mother's cunt and 
using her other to unbutton the dress. "You love me rubbing your 
vagina, just like you love fingering yourself or having a man's cock 
inside you ... I want you naked, naked and beside me, because I want 
you to love me, love me deeply ..."

Marleen's face grew crimson. It's true, she thought miserably. She 
trembled with the ecstasy from her child's hand, realizing what the 
admission meant. Ripples of loathing coursed through her, but all was 
over-ridden by the inundation of her passion. No ... not my own 
daughter ... But her body heaved and pumped against Wendy's invading 
thrusts, her thighs widening as she was slowly undressed by the slim 
trembling fingers of her daughter. She was writhing on the moss now, 
more abandoned and out of control than ever before in her life, and she 
opened her mouth so that she could breathe better, only to find herself 
kissing Wendy's small ear tenderly. A thrilling desire to be released 
from the burning flames of the stimulation flooded her tormented mind, 
and unable to stop herself, she raised herself up and crossed her arms, 
removing the partially opened dress. It was a mute but unmistakable 
signal of surrender to the forces which were fully controlling her body 
and senses, and she didn't care ... she couldn't have avoided it if she 
had.

Wendy unclipped her mother's brassiere and threw it aside, and trailed 
a moist hand across Marleen's trembling skin, pressing her fingers 
harder into her cunt and then bending forward and kissing the tender 
nipple of one throbbing, white breast. She sucked as if she was a baby 
again, feeding at the bosom, nibbling with her teeth and feeling her 
mother's flesh palpitate as she curled her tongue around the enflamed 
tit.

Marleen sighed from the intense stabs of pleasure which cascaded from 
the tingling white flesh of her inner thighs as Wendy's fingers rubbed 
up and down her open vaginal valley and grazed her erect clitoris as it 
teased the moist, clenched hole of her rectum. She whimpered as her 
daughter slid down beside her, nuzzling her whole body with hers, 
breasts to breasts, thigh to thigh, cunt to cunt, and she looked into 
the innocent, sweet face and saw the smile and sparkling eyes and she 
quivered with expectation.

"Kiss me, Mother," Wendy whispered, breathing heavily.

What's possessed me? her confused mind chanted. What's possessed us 
both? She stiffened as Wendy's warm lips closed over hers, and a 
darting tongue probed along her slightly parted mouth. After an instant 
of hesitation, the mother surrendered totally and opened her lips and 
let her daughter's tongue slide in, and their mouths fused hotly, and 
she found herself responding with all the passion she had ever had for 
her husband, sucking and drinking the warm saliva from Wendy's tender 
mouth.

"Yes ... Yes ... Yes I want you, darling Wendy," she murmured as they 
broke apart, the wild abandonment to her own lewd desires making her 
head roll and her mind abandon itself to lesbianism--to incestual 
lesbianism--her brain totally destroyed by the lewd and perverted hot 
fire of lust consuming her cunt and breasts and mouth. After all the 
pain and suffering she'd gone through, beginning with the slow, 
torturous progression of years of denial, the culminating in shame and 
unleashed drives in one searing moment of libertine freedom, now 
nothing mattered except surrender to the crazed desires that charged 
electrically through her--and her daughter's--wildly undulating bodies.

"Ohhhhh ..." Wendy mewled with rapture.

"I want to kiss you, Mother ... I want to kiss your cunt ..."

"Oh, no, darling," Marleen Franklin whimpered. "Not that, that's awful 
... I never even allowed your father to do that to me."

Her daughter shivered and moaned, but began to slide away, kissing her 
mother on her heaving breasts and running fire-hot trails of tongue and 
lips down her soft, flat stomach and rounded abdomen, down farther to 
where her fingers were pumping with maddening bliss. Marleen raised her 
head to watch in half-revulsion, half-captivation as her voluptuous 
child moved around--she didn't think Wendy could do it, would do it--
but the teenager was already wriggling her lovely young moon-shaped 
buttocks over her face, her legs and thighs straddling Marleen's 
panting mouth and nose, and the mother stared with wide eyes up at the 
young, barely mature pink slit of her child's cunt, and the moist 
wetness of Preston's sperm still gleaming on her soft, dark pubic hair.

Wendy gasped torturedly, all thoughts of right or wrong melting in the 
blast-furnace of her depraved emotions. She breathed in the beautiful 
bouquet of genital aroma coming from her mother's softly pulsating 
cunt, her own pussy below generating devils of sensuality and lust, and 
while she kept telling herself mindlessly that this was disgusting and 
that she had gotten carried away with the intensity of her love for her 
mother and should stop this, the small tendrils of shame and loathing 
which still clung to her soul only made what she wanted to do all the 
more lasciviously delightful and ravaging. Unable to control her secret 
longings any more, she dropped her head forward and blew a searing 
flame of hot breath into the open, pink well of her mother's naked 
vagina.

"Aggggghhhhhh ..." Marleen gritted through clenched teeth. But even as 
she tried to break free from the warm embrace she and Wendy were in, 
Wendy was planting long, fevered kisses around her thighs and lower 
belly, all around her passionately throbbing cunt which was roaring 
with unrequited needs, swelling and expanding the inner walls and outer 
lips. Marleen's mind whirled with indecision as her child caressed her 
loins with hands and mouth, but she was able to pull some semblance of 
resistance together long enough to clench her thighs and buttocks 
together. The whole concept of mouth to genitals had sickened her 
previously--now it was a hundred times and hundred worse, for it was a 
young girl wanting to kiss and suck her vagina, a girl who was her own 
daughter!

Wendy stared at her mother's tightly closed slit, at the way it 
quivered with desire, at the enticing pink flesh just hidden by the 
honeydewed black curly hair that her own fingers had raised to a froth 
of excitement, and she couldn't hold out any longer. She shuddered and 
moaned: "Open your legs, Mother dear."

Her soft, urgent voice broke the strands of Marleen's will power, and 
she did, moaning slightly as Wendy touched the sensitive, blood-
pounding skin and flesh. Wendy flicked out her small, wet tongue and 
teased one fold of her vaginal lips, and Marleen rose off the ground in 
involuntary reaction, and rotated her body slowly from side to side 
from the grazing tickle of her daughter's mouthing ... Wendy eased more 
of her lips inside the wide-stretched cleft and found to her sublime 
horror that she got an enormous thrill from the contact, and she lashed 
out suddenly in a torrent of action, her tongue and lips invading with 
complete freedom, and she forgot where she was or what she was, or who 
was under her as her mind soaked up the ambrosia of excited female 
juices which poured forth from her mother's open split.

Marleen groaned from deep within her belly, exploding from the 
salacious and unwelcomed passions which were surging from her tingling 
flesh. She heard Wendy gasp for air and then bury even her nose in the 
hungrily grinding mouth between her legs, and she begged her daughter 
to stop ... stop before she couldn't endure the sweet agony and 
depraved immersion of her cunt. "No ... No ... No ..." she chanted 
weakly, twisting in the grip of her child's increasingly voracious 
tonguing, writhing as Wendy refused to stop, horridly aware that she 
herself was unable to break free from the open, hungry mouth which was 
glued to her insanely responding pussy. She wanted Wendy to stop ... 
but at the same time didn't.

She gazed upward at the triangle of dark, wet pubic hair undulating a 
few inches above, at the swollen ruby vaginal lips of the girl who was 
kissing her own pussy, and the lascivious sight of her daughter's 
cuntal area became beautiful and sublime. She tentatively brushed her 
fingers across the quivering stomach and saw that this made Wendy 
tremble and little droplets of secretion appear at the coral-hued edges 
of her vaginal slit. The skin felt so soft and hot to touch ... Marleen 
let her hands rove up and down her daughter's body, circling her thighs 
and buttocks, though not having the nerve to dip into the pulsating 
crest of hair and flesh between the widened legs. She couldn't ... she 
just couldn't!

And then she was, finding to her shocked surprise before she knew what 
she was doing that she was clutching her child's firm white buttocks 
and drawing her head upwards, her face tangling in the softly tickling 
wisps of pubic hair with near spastic strength. Guilt at their actions 
surged through her for a fleeting moment, but all was overridden by her 
love--by her physical love--for Wendy, and her lips and tongue burrowed 
in the soft, recently sperm-filled cunt that was now resting upon her 
face, and she licked molten swaths all the way from her child's anus 
down to her vaginal hole and to her tiny, quivering clitoris, tasting 
the remaining male essence of David Preston's male ejaculation as she 
did so.

"Ohhhhh," Wendy cried in a muffled voice. "That's it, Mother ... 
Ohhhhh, that's it! Faster! Faster!"

Wendy strained her loins downward into her mother's mouth with all her 
might. The marijuana was now working its full effect on her and coupled 
with the abandoned welcome to her unmentionable wish, she was beyond 
the point of comprehending anything except what she was doing. She 
salivated as never before as she tongued and kissed and slicked the 
pink, trembling flesh, and all the while Marleen was busy with the 
clenching confines of her wet, down-turned pussy as well. Wendy was 
about to burst from the volcano of lust inside her, and she thrust 
harder and harder, every inch of her on fire, and she felt herself 
cumming. The walls of Marleen's vagina grasped hungrily around her 
daughter's swirling tongue and her clitoris trembled from the driving 
lips and teeth. The muscles in her inner thighs and buttocks flexed 
against the torture of her untapped, unrestrained fury and she choked 
and gasped as she strove to bring her child to the same climax she was 
nearing ...

*   *   *

And at the edge of the clearing stood Clyde Brooks and David Preston, 
and beside Preston sat the nervously whining King. They were all 
beadily watching the mother and daughter simultaneously absorbed in 
their writhing, undulating sucklings of each other's wildly squirming 
loins. Preston and Clyde stared bug-eyed at the matted pubic hair and 
pink vaginal slits and the licking, sliding tongues that slicked from 
the apex of their respective clitorises to the tender pink rose-buds of 
their anal orifices.

Preston patted King's head affectionately. "What did I tell you, Clyde? 
They're together again. Heh, heh--and really together this time."

The boy could only groan in reply, his cock a straight, erect post 
throbbing painfully from the astounding, lust-provoking sight. He'd 
never seen two girls eat each other out before, much less dreamed of a 
mother-daughter combination! It was more than his young mind could 
absorb dispassionately, and he watched with increasing arousal on his 
own part as the slaving twosome bucked and spasmed insanely in their 
incestual orgy.

Preston also was stimulated, his great penis trembling, its cock-head 
opening oozing seminal lubrications, and he stroked his fleshy shaft 
lightly, afraid that if he beat his cock too well, he'd cum all over 
the ground. Fiery sperm boiled in his testicles as he stared at the two 
on the grass, and then he turned to Clyde. He took his hand and began 
to stroke Clyde's prick as well, feeling the boy stiffen and then jerk 
his loins in a lewd pantomime of the sex rhythm.

"You fucked Mrs. Franklin," Preston said as he saw the glitter of 
savage desire light the boy's eyes. "And I fucked the girl. Now let's 
each take on the other. What do you say?"

"Yeah ... Yeah ..." the boy croaked.

"Only let's do something different this time," Preston suggested. "I've 
a surprise waiting for that teenager's cunt, so have her suck your 
cock--like she's sucking her mother's pussy now."

"Ohhhh, yeah, yeah," Clyde breathed mindlessly.

"And I'll shove my cock into that tight little asshole of the mother. 
How does that sound?"

Clyde didn't answer. Already he'd broken free from Preston and was 
charging across the grass, his penis waving out in front of him like a 
battle standard showing the way ...



Chapter 7


Wendy rolled and flung her tortured body crazily over her mother's 
face, hanging on to the black-haired pussy below her with joyous 
determination, driving her fiery tongue harder and faster and deeper 
into the clasping, sweetly melting channel of her mother's vagina, her 
own cunt burning with the intensity of a forest fire out of control and 
fanned by winds which made it roar through the whole of her firm, young 
flesh. Then she sensed another's presence, a shadow cross over her, and 
her heart almost stopped beating. She flailed her head a moment longer, 
then stilled, and she fought against the pressure of looking up, filled 
with the dread certainty that she would see somebody. But she did, and 
she saw Clyde--and something else, something long and glistening and 
jutting thickly toward her ...

Clyde Brooks stared at the abandoned girl below him, stroking his 
throbbing, blood-erect prick in long, deliberately tantalizing strokes 
the way Preston had done to him. He crouched down beside her on his 
knees, coming ever closer until his balls were touching her forehead, 
and he extended his hard, youthful penis with one hand while with the 
other he raised Wendy's head harshly.

"Suck me, Wendy," he ordered breathlessly. "Suck me like you're sucking 
your mother and make me cum!"

In one gasping, shuddering moment the teenage girl realized that what 
was being thrust toward her wet, glistening mouth was his cock, huge 
and swollen and palpitating. She wanted to scream, to fling him away, 
and yet she couldn't, for the passion from her mother's sucking of her 
cunt mingling with the aphrodesia which was steaming rampantly through 
her nerves made her incapable of anything except wanting to be a slave 
to her body. She couldn't reason how or why the boy was there, beside 
her ... but she didn't care. Only she didn't want to suck his penis! 
She wanted her Mother!

She tried to twist her head away, but he held her roughly in his grasp, 
and he pressed his cock forward still more, until his thick glans was 
against her cheek; he raised her head until she was feeling his 
secretions teasing her lips, and she wanted to gag.

Marleen Franklin was no longer asleep to the situation. She was now 
fully cognizant of what was happening to her daughter, even though her 
position made it impossible for her to react, trapped as she was under 
the still demanding, still undulating white and pink skin of Wendy's 
quivering vaginal slit. Even though her passions had been spiraling in 
spite of her best efforts to reject them, Marleen was shocked 
speechless by the impact of Clyde's demand. God! He was there, wanting 
her child to suck his cock! They'd been discovered, and the horror of 
what she and Wendy were engaged in made her moan in further shame, and 
she wanted to somehow run as Wendy had run, escape from the naked and 
shameless cavorting against nature and man ... She started to sob, but 
her hot breath only inflamed Wendy's pussy more, and the child ground 
her cunt onto her mother's face reflexively; Marleen realized then that 
her daughter, while tragically terrified of this new event, was still 
hotly aroused, and she could only lie there and feel Wendy's warm, 
excited young secretions around her mouth and smell the feminine 
perfume of her daughter's sex. She deliriously began to kiss and lick 
as before, her brain refusing any command other than the overwhelming 
need for gratification. It was as if her return to her lickings and 
tonguings was a form of circuit breaker, stopping her overloaded mental 
system from shorting out, her only path to keep the smattering of 
sanity which still held her together. She worked slavelike below, her 
tongue lashing and making Wendy moan in one continuous stream of 
bubbling pleasure, unable to stop what was now an obsession, an 
overwhelming, crushing need ...

Wendy's cunt flowered open wider and her lubrications increased with 
the resumption of her mother's sucking mouth teasing her wide-stretched 
vaginal slit, and warm trickles of saliva ran down from her mouth and 
pursed lips, and she rotated her wet buttocks onto the woman beneath 
her harder and faster in a lewd dance of desire. But she still couldn't 
take Clyde Brook's penis in her mouth! She'd never allow herself to 
lower herself to this degrading act, as low as she was already by her 
actions.

"Ohhhh, God damn you, Wendy, suck it!"

"No! Don't make me!" she pleaded, "Please don't make me!"

"Did she cum?" Preston asked, standing beside them.

"Hell no, only stubborn."

"She's never sucked cock before, my boy," the older man chuckled 
lewdly. "She's never had any cock anywhere until today. You'll have to 
force her--like this!" Preston came over and took his hands to her chin 
and jaw and pried open her unwilling mouth. "Now, shove your cock in, 
Clyde! Shove it in fast!"

The boy thrust forward quickly, and filled the warm, wet cavern between 
her cheeks, and she could feel it slither the full length of her 
gagging tongue as he filled her with his thick, fleshy hardness.

"You'll love it, Wendy," Preston soothed. "Try it and see ..."

Wendy closed her eyes, feeling numb to the world. In a trance-like 
state she felt harsh, pubic hairs at the base of Clyde's penis rub 
against her chin and lips, and she ovalled her lips as he began to 
screw his cock in and out, Preston's hands still holding her head in a 
viselike grip. "Suck, baby, suck ..." she heard dimly and she did, not 
knowing what else she could do. Her lips slowly began to nibble the 
thrusting shaft, and she coughed and sputtered from the unnatural 
invasion, trying not to think of what she was submitting to. The boy's 
testicles bounced against her and her nostrils filled with a new odor, 
a male odor that was stronger and not as sweet as her mother's 
secretions, but still piquant and spicy and attractive to her.

Underneath her, Marleen sucked and teased faster and faster as she 
thought of her daughter having a cock shoved into her lovely face, and 
her hands stroked the firm, heated flesh and her tongue lolled in the 
moist pink flanges of Wendy's cunt.

The saliva grew in the girl's mouth, becoming slightly sticky now from 
the emissions of lubricating fluid from the head of Clyde's sliding 
cock. She sensed his hips jerking and straining against her bobbing 
mouth, and his long, hard fingers were curling in her dark hair, 
holding her fast as his penis stretched and expanded until there wasn't 
any more room left. But instead of the sickness Wendy imagined she'd 
have, she began to enjoy it. Her brain savored the electric touch of 
her tongue on his cock, and the throbbing, tantalizing taste of his 
shaft. She balanced herself on one hand and took the other up to the 
base of his testicles, crooning a little now as she sucked 
rhythmically, twirling the softness of her young tongue maddeningly 
around the glans and coronal ridge. She'd never dreamed of this before! 
God, it was exciting, and Preston had been right again! Had he ever 
been wrong? God, she loved to suck this cock! She opened her mouth 
wider and took still more of the penis inside her butter-soft interior, 
swirling faster and faster, causing Clyde to cry out in pure delight.

"Ohhhhh, I love this! I love this!"

Marleen sucked in subservient lust, and heard her daughter's moaning of 
agony change subtly to a tone of enjoyment. It was a strange kind of 
masochistic joy which filled the mother now, for the lewd, obscene 
picture of her child being sucked and sucking in return was too much. 
She was falling into deep, unmitigated desire now, the perverted menage 
a' trois no longer causing her shame or remorse. What was the use of 
deceiving herself? Wendy was loving what she was being forced to do, 
and her own flesh was swamped with churning, waving prurience at the 
mere thought of it. Desire--she was truly reveling in the salaciousness 
she was partner to, and vanished were her inhibitions and prudishness 
then, for she was obliterated by desire, and there couldn't be anything 
more important at that moment than the heavenly feelings which were 
flowing through her like warm claret. Desire--Dear God, how could she 
not have desire!

Clyde looked down at the beautiful young girl, and the sight of his 
hard shaft absorbed in between her ovalling lips increased his 
sensation a thousandfold. She was massaging the soft, resilient sac of 
his balls and running her thumb and forefinger around the hardened 
base, and he could feel the softness of her tongue twirling crazily 
over his cock as he pumped in and out, her head beating in the same 
tempo as simultaneously she worked her still wide-splayed little cunt 
in hungry undulating circles over her mother's mouth. Wendy sensed the 
boy's throbbing reaction and sucked his prick still more fervently, the 
tips of her teeth digging gently into his hard, rubbery surface, 
leaving small white trails where they had scraped slightly. She was 
responding from instinct alone, and felt herself the most blessed of 
teenagers to have his cock in her mouth while her mother tongued her to 
certain orgasm beneath her, and the ecstasy rose and billowed in her 
... She loved this, and strove now to suck his sperm into her throat 
and belly, the powerful stimulants of the marijuana and her mother 
churning in her flesh with a spasming need that she'd never dreamed 
existed and which was driving her to climactic madness ...

David Preston removed his hands from her cheeks, knowing that they were 
no longer required, that the girl was filled with the crooning pleasure 
and was insensate with her own greedy lusts. He wondered that she 
didn't choke as she continued to suck on and on, and he could see tiny 
rivulets of sweat rolling down the side of her face and body as she 
bobbed over Clyde Brooks like a female demon. The muscles in his own 
stomach tightened, great swirls of heat building in his testicles as he 
gazed with lewd intensity at Wendy's thin pink ridges of inner mouth 
flesh pulling and clinging to the boy's throbbing, thrusting penis. He 
had to join in now! He had to ...

"Marleen!" he cried out, "Marleen, I want to fuck you!"

"Ohhhhh!" the mother replied abjectly, still pressed to the warm, wet, 
undulating cunt of her daughter's pubic slit.

"Move from underneath ... No, you don't have to stop sucking Wendy's 
pussy, just move your lower body out ... Then you can get fucked and 
suck her at the same time ..."

Marleen hesitated, her body quivering with the agony of her 
degradation, but only momentarily before she slipped her legs and 
buttocks out from beneath Wendy's body, sliding without hindrance now 
that the child had one hand around her boyfriend's genitals. She thrust 
her hips and loins toward Preston, still on her back, her mouth glued 
to Wendy's vagina, and she raised her legs and stretched them wide, 
bending them as close to her chest as she could so that her displayed 
pussy was a helpless toy for this man to use in his animalistic quest 
for satisfaction ... She groaned and squirmed, the pink, smooth flesh 
glistening from her daughter's saliva and her own secretions, the 
lessening of her anguish and fear a release from her mind's horror and 
the result of her sexual frenzy. She felt a rising bowl of passion 
building deep in her belly, in her very soul, as Preston knelt between 
her wide-splayed legs, and her red cunt lips throbbed with 
anticipation, making her automatically ease her rear farther upwards 
and widen her thighs still more to allow him full, salacious viewing of 
her open pussy.

Preston gaped at the ivory moons of her buttocks as they were offered 
up to him in sacrifice, and at her hair-ringed cunt, moist and 
palpitating in uncontrolled lasciviousness. God, he was excited! He 
couldn't wait to feel her squirm and cry beneath him, and his balls 
tingled and hurt with the desire racing through his groin. He moved 
forward, aching with lewd thoughts, and pried her wider with his 
fingers and thumbs until she was unprotected and stationary before him. 
He held his blood-heavy, bloated penis in the crevice of her vaginal 
slit, its angry red cock-head poised mercilessly before the tight, 
elastic opening of her anus. He taunted her, rubbing his prick up and 
down the sensitively spread channel, then introduced his massive shaft 
into her saliva-coated pussy, constantly pressuring until his entire 
length was submerged by slow, tormenting inches into the depths of her 
womb.

She tried to cry out, not knowing why, only that this devastating, 
constant plunge was what she wanted. He was ripping her internal organs 
... and she wanted it so, and then the man spread the soft curls of her 
pubic hair and caressed the tiny throbbing bud of her clitoris, 
stroking and taunting it as she thundered his massive purplish penis 
lasciviously between her open cunt lips.

Dear God ... I want to die with this in me!

Preston removed his hardened penis then, the purpose of his penetration 
accomplished--to lubricate it well. He lowered his pulsing shaft until 
its unseeing eye was leveled with her tiny hairless anus. He might have 
prepared her further seeing that she was a virgin in her rectal opening 
by stretching the sphincter ring with his finger, he thought lustfully-
-but the pleasures derived were better unannounced.

He fucked his hips forward, driving his throbbing cock-head into the 
resisting, tight rubbery anal mouth. Marleen winced as she felt the 
lips around her rectum being forced open, its elastic snugness 
resisting momentarily, then giving way before the harsh, brutal 
pressure. The agony shattered her and she endeavored to mechanically 
resist, squealing out with a choked, muffled cry. Preston reveled in 
the elation of hearing her painful groans, and rammed forward again, 
sinking more of his lust-inflated cock into her rectum. He felt his 
testicles thud against her upturned buttocks as she ground against the 
earth in an attempt to escape the cruel impalement, and her legs jerked 
out wide on either side of his long, lean body, kicking futilely in the 
air.

"God! Nooooo! Not back there! Nooooo!" she choked, her naked, white 
body pinned between her daughter and Preston's impaling cock. She was 
helpless, and with every surge of his penis she seemed to be forced yet 
more firmly onto his sodomizing penis. She was certain that her body 
was being split up the middle and that she would rent in half from his 
giant plunging shaft, its blunt head thrusting in her bowels in 
excruciating waves of torture. All sense of balance had long since left 
her, her brain a maze of distorted thoughts, the only feeling that of 
searing, hot pain from his sudden entry and cruel tearing of her rectal 
tunnel. She flexed her buttocks tightly together in an attempt to hold 
off further invasion, but the throb of her internal sinews only incited 
Preston more, and he plowed his way deeper and deeper into her vainly 
resisting passage. She sensed its every ridge and vein as her nerve 
ends transmitted its enormous form in minute detail to her muddled 
mind, and the hard, spongy shaft pressed relentlessly on, folding her 
rubbery flesh along in front of it. "Agggghhhh!" she groveled. Then she 
held her breath as the buried cock expanded more, stretching the narrow 
passage walls farther and farther apart. Then, he was all the way in, 
and the tickling hairs of his loins and the full weight of his 
testicles grazed her buttocks, and she became united with it.

"Ohhhhhh, noooooo ..." she mewled in horror, and she shuddered as 
Preston began to saw rhythmically and without the slightest mercy deep 
up into the soft confines of her back channel.

She dug her nails into her palms as slowly the pain eased a little, 
although it was still a mixture of hurtful discomfort and stimulation, 
and she felt strangely wet between her buttocks and also strangely 
ashamed. She was being sodomized and she tried to concentrate on this 
thought, but each time her concentrations were destroyed by a skin-
splitting thrust which jolted her and made her squirm in a weird, 
masochistic joy. She realized that she was heaving backwards to meet 
the forward thrust of his loins, and she was undulating her hips and 
moving her buttocks in tiny lewd circles, beginning to feel excited 
through the pain.

Her tongue snaked out and started licking her daughter's cunt once 
more, the pungent odors of Wendy's secretions flaring her nostril. Her 
whole body twitched and writhed under the two persons, and she groaned 
incessantly up into the moistness of Wendy's vaginal orifice, thrusting 
her lips and tongue deep into her crevice. Low hums of passionate, 
servile acceptance came in torrents from her throat, her beautiful face 
twisting with erotic arousal, her mouth working like a fish out of 
water, her neck straining as a light sweat broke out over her flesh. 
Her head rolled from side to side as her hips began an unwitting surge 
beneath the man's impaling cock, and her hungry anus screwed itself up 
tighter against his hair covered pelvis, forcing Preston to clench his 
teeth tightly in an effort to control himself.

There was no longer pain, she reasoned nebulously. Her body was surging 
and vibrant, raw electricity rippling through her rectum and out her 
nipples, whirling in a vortex of madness through her belly and legs and 
mind ...

"You like it, you like it now, don't you?" Preston grunted.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, keep fucking me in the ass! Ohhhhh!" she babbled, the 
thought of her own lips spewing such sick words into her own child's 
cunt sending a new lascivious thrill swirling through her. She revolved 
her buttocks around his thick, rigid penis, her anus dilating in time 
to its rhythmic beating. Furiously she lapped at her daughter's 
delicious tasting pussy, her unsated passions building until she 
couldn't breathe, and she thrust her white, round buttocks as high as 
she could for more of the cruel fucking that Preston was pumping into 
her ass.

David Preston looked up and watched avidly as Wendy's soft, ovalled 
mouth clasped greedily at Clyde's growing wet penis, her thin, tensile 
lips clinging to it as if held there by some unseen clamp. The boy 
grinned lewdly and winked at Preston and then ogled once again the 
lust-contorted face as the teenager sucked his cock like it was the 
last piece of candy on earth. Preston could see thick, oozing seminal 
fluid trickling now from the corners of the girl's mouth, Wendy 
reveling in the cruel humiliation that she was being subjected to, a 
strange light shining in her glazed eyes.

Then the man watched the reddish skin of Marleen's little round hole 
draw back with his cock, clutching it as if it didn't want him to ever 
come out. At first, the pressure of his penis had been almost too much 
to bear, but now it was just tight enough and exhilarating, the type of 
squeeze that promised to draw his sperm out of his testicles with the 
ferocity of a sump pump. Intensely he leered at the thin, pink ridges 
as the gleaming length of his prick was consumed into the salaciously 
quivering opening, and he let her strain up to him for awhile, watching 
the complete abandonment to her labors, a dazed ecstasy making her body 
tremble.

He grinned to himself as he felt the raw slap of his naked testicles 
against the unprotected valley of her anus. It was time for the further 
subjugation of these delicious bitches ...

"Wendy!" he called out to the girl. "You're sucking like mad; you want 
to be fucked as well?"

"Mmm hmm!" the teenager mewled, nodding as best she could while 
slavering at the ramming cock in her mouth. "Mmmmmm!"

"Then raise your ass up and get ready! You're going to get the best 
fuck of your life!"

"MMMMMMM!"

Preston whistled. Suddenly, the large German Shepherd stood from where 
he'd been on his haunches at the side of the clearing, his ears pricked 
up, his body tense and eager. Preston whistled again and King trotted 
over as Wendy's little whines grew into deep-chested mewls, her hips 
gyrating above her mother's face in her need for fulfillment. The great 
dog went straight to her hair-covered crotch, his training long and 
complete by his master, and King began sniffing, his tail wagging and 
his brain remembering previous pleasures from past commands. A bitch in 
heat! Wendy moaned as his cold nose rubbed wetly against her tiny, 
cringing pussy, unable by her position and the fetter of Clyde's cock 
in her tender mouth to turn around and identify her new lover, but not 
caring who he was so long as he could satiate the seething cauldron of 
lusts which was burning and scalding her hungry little vaginal slit.

King began to lap the narrow pink slit between her thighs, running his 
enormous tongue wetly the full length of it, from the tightly clenched 
anus down the fluted pink ridges to the tiny erotic bud of her clit. 
His thick, rough tongue spread through her soft, fleece-covered 
swelling like a keen blade through butter, and it slaved relentlessly 
between her widened legs, pausing to curl deeply into her cunt hole. 
Wendy spasmed convulsively as she writhed under the masterful beast's 
tongue as it lapped and sniffed at her loins. Soft moans of delight 
filtered from around her sucking lips as his tongue unfurled up her 
moist channel like a red runner-rug, ravishing her upthrust crotch 
mercilessly. King worked like the vicious animal he was, the primeval 
lust of the jungle motivating him.

Marleen stared upward in utter horror, mumbling incoherently as she 
watched in wild-eyed disbelief at King lapping lasciviously at her 
daughter's pussy, and Wendy's obvious enslavement by the huge panting 
dog, her young body offered to the thick, slithering lizard-like tongue 
in her exposed vaginal crevice and white buttocks. She knew that more 
than ever before she should do something to save her child, but somehow 
the total subjugation and helplessness of Wendy shaking with erotic 
bliss beneath the beast sadistically fascinated her, and she couldn't 
look away. The lewdness was so overwhelming, that shivers of revulsive 
curiosity erupted along her flesh, and she felt terribly cold, but then 
Preston surged again inside her rectum and the wet ring of her anus 
responded with a hot, urgent, stabbing delight. Her mind was recoiled 
by the venial bestiality, the fact of what was being done to Wendy so 
awful that it was almost desirable to her, and she couldn't do anything 
except respond to the magnified pumpings of Preston's cock in her 
rectum, drawn to the perverted scene a few inches from her. It was like 
a magnet of sex, and the sight of King licking the girl's pussy made 
her both nauseous and craving, the pull of both poles threatening to 
split her brain apart.

Preston moved so that he could thrust more of his penis into the pink-
rimmed fist of the mother's ass while he watched with gloating eyes as 
his wonderful dog, King, worked the girl into the proper mood. Already 
the brute's large animal penis was stiff and red and sliding from its 
hairy sheath like some round, tipped, wet sword which trembled with 
unquenchable fire. And then he called out the order, the final command 
which would send the dog into its well-trained act.

"On King! On, you husky!"

Wendy never heard the command, for in her drugged state, she was no 
longer human. She was a quivering mass of flesh that wanted to be 
released, and she was only interested in grinding her buttocks back 
against whoever was tonguing her so magnificently and have him sink his 
cock deep inside her agonized cunt. Suddenly she felt a furry clasping 
around her waist and something hard and wet slip along the valley 
between her buttocks. Again and again it floundered as she spread her 
legs wider and her hips higher in an effort of supplication to the 
stranger's penis. My God, get it in! Get it in! Why does he torture me 
like this? My pussy is on fire!

Marleen was too engrossed with the incredulous ramming attack on her 
defenseless daughter to be able to breathe. The dog was mounting Wendy 
and holding her to his belly as if she was a bitch in heat, and she saw 
the animal's glistening, scarlet penis hard and free of his hairy 
covering, the tapered point of it dancing in its endeavor to bury the 
rock-like shaft into the young, impatiently squirming body. Sobbing 
now, she stared stony-eyed as the sharp tip missed and missed again, 
and heard Wendy cry as the evading, upthrust animal penis hit her soft, 
hair-nestled clitoris, the hot scarlet of the dog's jabbing cock 
contrasting lewdly with the fevered pink of the girl's passion-inflamed 
cunt. And to her startling shock, she saw her child shift her quaking, 
round buttocks in an effort to capture the lengthening animal prick and 
lead it to her voraciously grasping vagina, spreading herself wider as 
his still unsheltered organ rubbed around her slit.

In obvious desperation and frustration, Wendy reached between her legs 
and took hold of the slippery rod of bestial flesh, guiding it to the 
entrance of her throbbing, wet hole, arching her backsides so that 
there would be no further trouble with being speared by the cock she 
had to have. Marleen groaned in terror and sickness as she saw the huge 
dog hump forward then and bury its cock into her daughter's hungrily 
accepting little pussy with a rush until it was interred to the hilt 
and his hairy, canine testicles swung below her wetly matted pubic 
hair.

It was when she reached back and grasped the dog's penis that Wendy 
finally realized who and what was fucking her. King jerked forward, and 
as she felt the strangely thin, long prick soar into her, spearing her 
hungry, wet vaginal walls like a flint-tipped arrow, she pictured the 
furry case that she had felt with her fingers and the hairy abdomen and 
long, muscular shanks, and the true nature of the cock she'd sought so 
avidly came to her with a crushing impact.

Oh God! It's David's dog. It's King! The teenager choked on the cock 
sliding wetly in and out of her mouth, a scream changing to only a 
small wail of anguish. King's penis is inside me, getting bigger and 
bigger ... Ohhhhh ... my God, it's like a jack-hammer! Oh, Christ, 
forgive me, but it feels so goooood ... It's beautiful!

The beast behind her was hammering with pile-driving thrusts that were 
reaching her very womb, the thin cock swelling to fill all of her cunt. 
It was a miracle, dispatching the maddening demons which had been 
driving her crazy with desire, and she licked and sucked shamelessly at 
the delectable cock in her mouth, wanting to be fucked by this hairy 
monster if it would make her cum. She thrust her loins back against 
King as if she was another animal, and felt the tiny rivulets of 
moisture building in the crevice between her cheeks and sensed them 
dribbling down the sides of her inner thighs, the mounting pressure in 
her belly and cunt signaling that the dog was rising her excitement to 
orgasm ...

Marleen could no longer contain herself at the lewd, ruttish sight of 
her daughter being willingly raped by Preston's dog. She looked upwards 
at the dark, sparsely haired pussy, its long pink slit trailing to 
where King's animal cock split it, its length pulsating in and out of 
the slippery vagina, his hairy balls swinging below. She could see 
Wendy's hungrily working little cunt lips clamping hotly around the 
surging penis, and the beautiful moon-shaped buttocks as they swayed, 
and the enticing young flesh that sparkled with her passionate droplets 
as they clung to her pubic curls. The musky scent was overpowering and 
suddenly Marleen lashed out with her tongue again, going around her 
child's clitoris and cuntal petals, and then with uncontained lust, she 
reached higher and nuzzled the canine testicles, taunting the dog's 
half-exposed member with the tip of her tongue as she swallowed the 
open cunt, sucking inner-lips and clitoris and the bestial penis 
simultaneously. She raised her own buttocks off the ground so that 
Preston could shove more of his sodomizing cock into her insatiable 
rectum, furiously tasting the sweet delicious cunt and the tangy 
saltiness of King as he fucked, her own unsatisfied passions growing 
and growing ...

Suddenly Clyde Brooks screamed shrilly. "I'm ... I'm there! Suck me 
harder, baby! Suck me harder!"

In her quest for her own climax, Wendy sucked as never before while the 
boy's pummeling instrument fused with her mouth, his testicles bouncing 
off of her chin below. Then, as his climax rolled out from his balls 
like a bursting dam, Clyde jerked his cock from her sucking lips, 
holding his huge red shaft about two inches away from her pleading 
mouth.

Before the girl could protest, the boy's penis spewed forth with hot, 
white sperm directly into her ovalled cavern, the thick creamy seed 
streaming from his cock-head to her lips like milk from a cow, filling 
her waiting mouth. Wendy swallowed, not wanting to lose a single drop 
of the delicious, lust-inciting fluid, her throat working rapidly in 
its attempt to keep up with the wild ejaculations.

Preston groaned at the obscene picture of the young boy pumping out his 
semen into the humiliated girl's face, and at the way the thin 
streamers of his cum splashed her cheeks and nose and trickled down 
like splatters of paint. The gushing torrent as Wendy felt the first 
taste of male sperm deep in her gullet and stomach was a billowing wave 
of heat which set off her own climax then, at the same time that 
Preston began to jerk convulsively and send his boiling cum into her 
mother's soft, unresisting rectum.

The depraved man thrust the last of his length into Marleen's wide 
stretched anus, and she felt his hot surge of seed spurt into her belly 
violently, ricocheting against her heated passage walls, its steaming 
heat setting off her long overdue orgasm. She was there! At last! She 
screamed and screamed again, heaving her buttocks against Preston's 
penis as he continued to empty his throbbing testicles into her, her 
brain shattering into a million reflective shards that dazzled her with 
pinwheels of internal light.

Wendy's climax made her body contract as if in an epileptic fit, and 
the young teenage girl buffeted back on King's brutish shaft, gulping 
Clyde's semen as her vaginal muscles milked the dog's superbly 
expanding cock like an angry glove. She gurgled through her mouthful of 
sticky seed, suddenly without a feeling of time or space--only the 
unbelievable pleasure of her orgasm as she was hit again and again by 
King's tempestuous release of his canine semen. The dog howled 
mournfully, baying to the twilight above as he pounded her pussy and 
unleashed a torrent of alien juice in thin jets, making Wendy's belly 
quake and ripple, her insanity traversing all bounds. There was nothing 
save that wonderful beast's jack-hammer lunges and fiery liquid ... 
nothing!

Wendy's mother, heaving her thighs and buttocks against the last of 
Preston's cock's ejaculations, continued to squeal out her tremendous 
orgasm, shaking as if hit by bullets, thoroughly lost in her world of 
lusting release. She gazed in sweet fascination as her daughter's 
vagina flowered with the thick white ooze as Wendy milked and squeezed 
the dog's penis with her contracting cunt muscles, the animal's viscid 
liquid bursting from the small hole in which it had shot so much, and 
rivulets of bestial cum ran down the quivering ivory columns of her 
girl's legs to puddle on the grass below. King was magnificent, Marleen 
thought deliriously ... like a wonderful machine ... and as she thought 
of the brute filling her child's womb, she wildly licked and kissed 
Wendy's flooded slit, tasting the alien seed on her tongue and lips and 
finding an odd pleasure in its peculiar flavor. She couldn't rid 
herself of the tremendous desire to clean all of Wendy's cunt, even as 
the dog slipped its now deflated cock out of the draining orifice, and 
she swallowed the still hot cum and secretions from the warm, pink skin 
and matted pubic hair, on a pinnacle of delight that threatened to 
burst her mind from the sheer physical pressure of the dizzying height.

Finally, she collapsed, allowing her daughter to do the same. Her 
stomach was burning, and she thought with satisfaction that it was the 
blending of King's seed and her child's juices, all flowing in a 
swirling flow of abandoned carnal satiation ... She rolled over and 
wearily smiled at Wendy, who smiled back in return, and the mother knew 
that there was no longer shame or remorse or the slightest binding 
restraint between them. She and her daughter had joined in the most 
perverted, pagan exhibitions of the flesh, and what had been could 
never be again ... she never wanted to return to the old ways, the 
incomplete and unsatisfying ways, and from now on she and Wendy would 
live for each other.

Later the four of them and King returned to her apartment, and through 
the wee hours of the morning they alternated in frantic searches for 
lust, until at last Wendy went to sleep, exhausted, and King curled up 
contentedly on the bed beside her. Marleen, filled to capacity by then 
with the semen of Preston, Clyde Brooks, and the dog, went off to her 
own room, and cuddled naked with the two men, a happy and satiated 
woman of the flesh.

In the morning they'd start all over again, she told herself drowsily. 
In the morning and forever after ...



Chapter 8


The hot water of the shower cascaded over Marleen as she lathered her 
firm, full breasts. She hummed to herself, recollecting to herself the 
wonderful time she'd had last night--the wonderful times she'd had most 
every night and during the day as well since the evening two weeks ago 
when she and her daughter had given themselves over to a life of sexual 
pleasure. There was nothing better, she admitted happily, and thank God 
she had found herself--and Wendy--before more delay could have parted 
them forever. She soaped down between her legs, widening her thighs to 
let the rich froth of soap bubbles cleanse her black pubic hair and her 
pink cunt lips, remembering how David Preston had washed them with his 
tongue last night, only to moisten them again with his next load of 
shooting sperm ...

David was sharing the apartment now, an integral part of the Franklin 
family, which one day might become the Preston family. Wouldn't that be 
nice, she mused ...

Her reverie was interrupted by David, who thrust the shower curtain 
aside and stepped in beside her, grinning hugely. "Morning, lover," he 
said, and cupped one of her still soapy breasts.

"Stop it," Marleen giggled, not meaning it. She laughed and kissed him, 
and fondled his penis and brown sac of testicles provocatively, sensing 
that he was getting an erection ...

"Three's not a crowd, I hope," came another voice, and naked Wendy, 
happy and smiling, squeezed her lovely young body into the stall. 
Marleen shrieked delightedly, for the girl placed her hand familiarly 
on her mother's pubic mound, fucking her finger inside her vaginal slit 
and digging for her little clitoris. "Mm!" Wendy said, rubbing her 
buttocks against David's now firm cock. "Looks like we'll be making a 
little sex under the shower!"

"Jesus, don't you ever get enough?" the man taunted.

"Why do you think Clyde gave up and won't see me anymore?" Wendy 
retorted. "I wore him out."

Marleen started soaping her daughter, tenderly but with those motions 
she knew would raise the fervor for lust, filled with that special 
possessive love only a mother can give and receive. And she had given 
and received wholeheartedly and would continue to, with every sinew and 
muscle of her and Wendy's bodies. She opened her legs a little wider 
letting her child have more room in which to stroke and play with her 
cunt, using her other hand to guide David's hard, pulsating penis into 
Wendy's ass cheeks ...

When the hot water ran out, and they had to run laughing and wet from 
the sudden inundation of ice-cold spray, they found the dog waiting, 
wagging its tail. Marleen patted King affectionately, and he licked her 
pussy hair, nuzzling her loins with impatience.

"I think he wants to be fed," David observed.

"What'll we feed him?" Wendy asked slyly.

"Oh, I don't know," the man said, grinning lewdly. "Whatever's handy. 
He'll eat most anything. Or anybody ..."


The End
