Karen And Mother
by Carole Wilson 


Chapter 1 

Janice Cartwright slowly untied the knot on her yellow, bandana-like 
bikini bra. She blushed, tingling strangely at the feeling of letting her 
firm, taut-nippled breasts be exposed this way, open to the world as if she 
didn't have any morals or scruples. She hesitated, cupping the cloth which 
dangled by its now untied string and her heavy, ivory-smooth breasts, 
feeling the hot flush of embarrassment warm her otherwise naked skin from 
her breasts up. 

"Come on, Mother," her daughter, Karen said in that peculiar impatient 
urging of a teen-ager. "Take your suit off and join me. I told you that I 
wanted to sun in the nude, and I'm going to do it, but - " and here she 
giggled lightly with the innocence of youth - "I need encouragement!" 

Already beautifully naked, she wriggled slightly with girlish spasms of 
pseudo-fright, as if there might really be something wrong for a mother and 
her only child to be in the nude together, naked and unadorned as the day 
one bore the other in love and tenderness. 

Karen Cartwright, fifteen, only child of Janice and Harlow, had been the 
instigator of sunning themselves like this. It titillated her to think that 
she was going to return to school with a tan all over! One which in the 
girl's shower room would get "gasps" and "ahhs" from the others who hadn't 
had the chance to be like this, shielded from prying eyes, for only her 
father was a real estate broker who could arrange a summer cabin surrounded 
by fiberglas screening. She wasn't going to say anything as her girl friends 
glanced embarrassedly at the swell of her breasts which would be bronze 
instead of white, at her sparcely covered pubic mound, with its thin, still 
virginal young cuntal slit and curly hair, which would be the same deep 
shade as the rest of her, as she would skip into the showers and let them 
watch her firm, smoothly rounded little buttocks bounce as she washed 
herself, knowing that they were all eating their hearts out in envy that 
their own buttocks weren't as tanned, but showed the tiger stripes of 
bathing suits. 

And she'd not tell then it was all innocent, either. Oh no, not that it 
wasn't, being here with her mother and nobody else, but she wasn't going to 
give her friends that satisfaction. She'd just smile lazily and nod her head 
knowingly, as if maybe she'd been on a wicked, debauching beach somewhere 
where boys and girls did things like this ... ran around naked, laughing and 
free, their lithe bodies glistening in the sun and water ... before they 
spent an evening in pagan worship of their bodies, with couples writhing 
together in the tumult of making love .. . 

Karen Cartwright couldn't help tingling all over at the thought, the 
forbidden day-dreaming which she, as a budding young woman, occasionally 
allowed herself in the privacy of her room. Not that she'd ever allowed a 
boy to actually do anything like that to her ... 

She pirouetted once on tiptoe, spreading her arms wide and letting the warm 
sun smile down on her and spread its rays like the blanket of one of her 
imaginary lovers, then turned back to her mother, amused that she hadn't yet 
shed herself of her bathing-suit, or her false modesty. She recalled last 
year when it had taken so much coaxing to get her mother just to buy a 
bikini - a,nd a quite prudish one at that. Oh, her father had been appalled! 
Well, the old goat was appalled at anything, even her strapless formal gown. 
The dried-up old fuddy-duddy, why couldn't mother have married somebody more 
alive? More on the ball? I bet they don't even make love anymore. 

"Don't you look fine, Mother!" Karen said, with genuine admiration in her 
voice as she studied the still magnificent form, the ripe body which, closer 
to forty, still retained the proud, unsullied firmness of a girl in her 
early twenties. She smiled encouragingly as finally her mother dropped her 
bra to the sun deck and arched her back tentatively; her breasts, high and a 
perfect 36C, stood out in all their alabaster majesty. 

"Karen, I feel positively wicked doing this," Janice gushed, but somehow she 
seemed to blossom with this tantalizing freedom. 

"Nonsense," Karen exclaimed, "Why, you know that in some European beachs, 
nobody wears anything, men or women!" 

"Karen ! " 

"It's the truth, mother, and you shouldn't be afraid of it. There's nothing 
to be ashamed of either, especially not nudity; nothing could be healthier 
than a naked body in the out-of-doors. After all, God gave us our bodies and 
we should be both good to them and proud of them." 

"I know, dear, but still ..." She sighed. "I'm an old woman, dear. A woman 
who can't get over her teachings by her mother, and you know the way your 
grandmother was." 

Karen sat down on one of the towels, previously spread for their afternoon 
of sunning. "Humph." she said. "You're not an old woman at all, Mother. You 
only think you should be because of the way Grandmama brought you up, in 
black ankle-length skirts and whalebone corsets - " 

"I'm not that old!" her mother shrieked in mock shock. 

"Well, you might have been. And then Father and his ways." 

Karen sat down crosslegged, bending forward and pulling at some of the cloth 
of the towel between her legs. Her breasts hung down until her cherry-tipped 
nipples nearly brushed her still pale-skinned legs, and as she picked she 
could see that her sitting position had stretched open the thin little 
cuntal valley between her thighs, had spread her still unbroken vaginal 
slit, showing its coral smoothness and the little, now limp, clitoris that 
she sometimes rubbed. Seeing it there gave her a sudden jump inwardly, a 
tingling in the loins that always precluded her guilty bouts always 
lostwhether she should rub her finger up and down her pussy until waves of 
pleasure came. She never went inside, even though the hole of her sweet, 
innocent, blushing-pink cunt flowered provocatively, seemed to want to draw 
her finger inside, to widen the cavern so that she could explore new and 
better sensations ... she had always managed to resist that, for it was 
there she was going to have a boy first, a boy who would have placed a ring 
on her finger even before that. But now, looking down and seeing her 
twitching vaginal lips swell with unwanted, automatic desire, seeing the 
beginning droplets of lubrication form on them like dew on the petals of a 
rose, she inwardly blushed at the way she couldn't control her chemistry, 
the glandular changes of puberty, and quickly turned her eyes away, back to 
her mother. 

"... Your father is a hard-working man, Karen," her mother was saying. Karen 
tried to bring her thoughts around to bear on what her mother was talking 
about, hands on her still cloth-covered hips, a worried frown on her face. 
"Harlow has been building up his business so we can live in comfort and 
security, to go to a nice summer place like this - " she waved a hand 
vaguely in the direction of Lake Stephan, out of sight over the green 
plastic fence to their left "to give you the finest education and chances." 

"Mother." Karen sighed, not w a n t i n g to argue. After all, he was her 
mother's husband, not her's, and her mother picked him by choice, "Mother, I 
only mean that for all his working, he is still back in the Victorian era 
when it comes to treating you and me like human beings. The day when women 
are chattel and property to be hid when not in use is over, that's all. Look 
at you! Having to screw up your courage to be what you always have been - a 
real live woman! Feeling that your body is to be kept in the dark, to deny 
that most of you is somehow to do with your being a woman.. ." 

"Karen, where did you learn all these awful things?" 

"In that best education my father has given me," the daughter replied 
matter-of-factly. "Where truth is explored and what you are is more 
important than what you should be." 

"I'm shocked! I've never heard you talk like this." 

"Maybe it's b e c a u s e I haven't been old enough or mature enough to be 
able to express it. Maybe it's because we haven't had the chance to really 
be close, to be more than just mother and daughter. Maybe..." and here even 
Karen, for all her pretense of being a modern, independent girl, had to 
pause... "maybe because when we strip ourselves of our clothes, we also 
strip ourselves of our inhibitions ... Do you suppose?" 

Janice Cartwright was disturbed at this moment, disturbed because her 
daughter had, at the tender age of fifteen, put into words what she had 
learned and felt only after ten years of marriage. What then she had only 
dared to suspect because of Harlow's lack of interest in her any more as a 
woman, as a sexual mate, and she had turned in desperation to books on the 
subject of marital relations, and they had said the same essentially. 

Still .. . She looked down at her lovely offspring, gazed tenderly at the 
way Karen now lay unprotected on the towel with her golden corn-silk hair 
fanned out behind her head like a radiant halo; at her sweet, snub-nosed, 
freckled face with its wide, full lips she inherited from her father; at the 
way her conical young breasts beat with the rhythm of her heart, solid and 
upright even when in a supine position, not as large but still not fully 
undeveloped and would someday rival hers, Janice's; at her flat belly and 
the cute navel and the gentle sloping to her thighs, where a triangle of 
softly curling pubic hair covered her vagina; then down, in shapely tapering 
legs to her feet and small, thin toes then back up to where her daughter's 
blue eyes held hers locked in the solumn seriousness of y o u t h f u l 
opinion. Still, as she smiled, Janice couldn't help fearing that perhaps her 
daughter had been given her education her emergance into mature, healthful, 
expressive womanhood a little early. Isn't there, she said to herself in 
that instant, a time when a child is supposed to be a child? To be innocent 
and foolish? To be uneducated and free of the responsibilities of being and 
adult? Has Karen grown up too fast? 

Then she couldn't help but laugh. The world was simply spinning faster these 
days, that's all; and if a girl of fifteen could be what her own mother 
still wasn't at thirty-six, then just think what Karen can be when she gets 
to thirty-six! Stop worrying, for Karen has still the physical innocence, if 
not the mental ... 

"Oh, my darling little Karen, I love you so!" Janice smiled musingly and 
almost as if she were Karen's age again. "Your father may be old-fashioned, 
but then again, he is your father, and the only one you have. Do try and 
treat him with the respect he needs. He does love you, too, you know." 

Karen laughed and stood up and in a gesture of whim, seeing that once more 
her mother was happy and carefree, spread her arms and legs in a horizontal 
cheerleader jump, a spread-eagled swoop of joy. The cool mountain air 
whispering off the lake and dipping over the fence blew against her 
momentarily open vagina, sending a chill racing up her spine and making her 
pull her legs together again ... She gasped, shuddering as the breeze played 
with her young silken pubic hair ... 

"What's the matter, darling? Are you cold?" 

"N-no, mother," the daughter replied, trying to cover the lurid sensation 
that flicked up between her legs, her flash of sudden prurient feelings. 
"N-no, only tremendously glad that we're here for two glorious weeks, with 
nobody to bother us. Just you and me, Mother, just us together." 

But they weren't. Hiding in the thick scrub beside their sun deck, his hands 
straining oar the supports so that he could lean up and see through, the 
pin-hole in the green fiberglas screening, was a stranger... a man who now 
felt his giant penis throb against his swimming trunks as he gazed with 
gleaming eyes at the exciting sight of two beautiful women nakedly sunning 
themselves, his mind churning with lascivious ideas to how best bring them 
both under his control, under his body ... He moved away silently, thinking 
of his camera ... 

Janice, unaware that her and Karen's naked bodies were being spied upon by a 
man, who would have been horrified had she known, but without that fatal 
knowledge had to agree with her daughter. It was nice up here, nice and 
peaceful and free. "Yes, Karen, just us." 

"In that case, take off those bottoms and join me." Karen said exuberantly. 
"Here's the oil." She sat up, holding the plastic sun-tan lotion bottle. 
"And here's the towel." she added, patting the terrycloth. "Come on." 

Janice licked her lips, strangely dry all of a sudden. She stood over her 
naked young daughter, hesitating because never before had she purposely 
exposed herself so completely in front of anybody except Harlow. Anybody, 
that is, except Jackson ... and the image of his suave, handsome face and 
muscular body arching toward her waiting and palpatating nakedness, his 
thick, excitedly throbbing penis sliding into her wet, eagerly waiting cunt 
... Jackson Trendell, her lover ... She gulped at the idea that she had one, 
had actually entered into such a clandestine relationship with a man, known 
intercourse with a male other than her husband, made her knees buckle. She 
brought herself back in time to again smile shyly at her daughter. "Yes ..." 
she said absently. "Yes, it's about time. I think." 

"That's it, Mother," urged Karen. 

Yes, it's time, as Karen says, to own up to being a woman. I can't be one 
with Harlow like I can with Jackson, and I certainly should be with my own. 
daughter. Almost as if she was undressing for her lover rather than merely 
removing her bikini bottoms to sun in the nude with her daughter, Janice 
Cartwright, still a victim of nearly a life-time of repression from her 
mother and husband, put her thumbs behind the elastic hipband of her bikini 
and peeled it slowly down over the full rounded spheres of her buttocks. 

The effect of her unconsciously seductive, slightly embarrassed, strip was 
electrifying on two people. One was her daughter, who found herself catching 
her breath in the pit of her lungs. She leaned on her elbows, u p r i g h t 
enough to peer with complete, unhampered vision at her mother. Somehow she 
couldn't take her eyes off the softly moving strands of her pubic hair that 
slowly became apparent as her mother worked her bikini bottoms down over her 
curvaceously shaped legs. Her hair, a natural coal-black unlike her 
daughter's blondeness which also came from Harlow, was a glistening spray of 
darkness, a blatant exhibition of her sexuality against the long, downy-soft 
columns of her thighs and legs. As her mother kicked the suit away from her 
and stretched, Karen felt as if there were suddenly a marble stuck in her 
throat. 

There, she groaned inwardly, there between my mother's legs, is where I came 
from. Karen stared at her mother, her heart pumping wildly in her chest for 
some unknown, unthinking reason. She had never been so enamoured with the 
sight of naked girls, her own sex, before - in the showers and when she'd 
stayed overnight at her friends' houses she'd seen breasts and nipples and 
thighs and vaginas, but she'd never reacted this way. It was because this 
was her mother, her own flesh-and-blood, she dared to explain to herself; an 
instinctive drawing to the womb which had produced her, an innate curiosity 
about the secrets of sex which her girl friends, whether they did or didn't 
know, wouldn't be able to explain to her, legs splayed apart, was the heart 
of her conception, the place which had accepted a man's penis and had urged 
it on until its seed was sent shooting up deep inside her. There, softly 
protected by the curve of hip and soft triangle of pubic hair, were the pink 
little pussy lips peeking coyly out, the vaginal protuberances which had 
clung to that surging, hungry penis, just as hungry and demanding as the 
male who pumped his sperm into her. Karen, trance-like, not realising that 
her subconscious bond was as strong as it was, could only sense the 
empathetic ache in her own genitals, feel the personal identification with 
her mother's sexual responses with her own, barely tried ones - the ones 
which were like a volcano inside her, ready to burst but held in check by 
the morals and fears of a virgin. She could project her wishful fantasies as 
she looked at the vaginal mound and fluted pink cunt of her mother, for 
there, so close as to almost be able to touch, was the solid essence of all 
of her unrequited emotions. 

The other person engrossed with the hesitant, insinuating-through-slowness 
removal of the bandana-looking yellow bikini bottoms was the stranger who 
peered so intently through the hole in the wall. The stranger had a name: 
Ellery Quinn, and he had an occupation: the difiliation of every 
decent-looking woman who could be had in a fifty mile radius, and some women 
who weren't so good looking but were more-or-less available. Ellery Quinn 
was a bachelor by choice, a rou by nature, and had spent his life in the 
pursuit of new flesh, new sensations, new conquests. 

When he had been retired; a result of him, president of Quinn's Lock 
Company, being caught by the vice-president sodomizing the vice-president's 
wife in the rectum, he had moved to Lake Stephens, bought a cabin, and 
settled down to pursue his life's true avocation. "Locked Rooms Our 
Specialty," his company slogan read; Quinn's personal one was, "Getting in 
locked pussy is my specialty." He had been near the point of turning over 
the control to the vice-president anyway, had groomed the man in that 
direction, so the incident of flagrant delecto was merely making the change 
a little sooner, and considering the scandal which might have occurred, 
Quinn was glad to sell out and come to this lake where it was private yet 
amazingly fertile. Why husbands would think that they could send their wives 
and daughters here in complete safety, in contrast to the "wicked" cities 
was beyond Quinn, but who was he to look a good thing in the mouth and 
complain? 

Who was he to look at these lovely, naked, two women and turn his back? And 
they were available! He heard that the husband and father wasn't with them 
from Arnold Hutter, the boy at Stephan's landing's only grocery store, who 
passed on such information in return for a share in the prizes, and who, in 
this instance, had already put in his claim on the younger one, the daughter 
who Quinn had heard the mother call Karen. Well, that was fine by him; just 
look at that woman! That lovely voluptuous mother of the girl standing 
there! Quinn's loins actually pained him from the frustration of not being 
free, of his cock not being able to jut out and then plunge into the sweet, 
black-haired cunt which he leered at though the fence hole. This was almost 
more than a virile man could stand, those two sunning in unabashed 
nakedness. And Quinn stifled a groan as his hard penis spasmed with growing 
pressure, and he raised his expensive Polaroid camera to the peephole, 
squinted through the view-finder, and snapped a picture ... the first of 
many, full-color shots of the lovely, naked and unashamedly unaware young 
women. 

Quinn was a man to whom women were drawn, as if his heathen ways had given 
him a patina, a musk-like aura which a woman could catch the way a bitch in 
heat can sense a male dog. It was a factor which stopped them from realizing 
what they were doing until it was too late and he had laid them, a fog which 
anesthetized them into wanting at all costs to know what so many other women 
had found pleasure in. And they soon found out, and almost to the one never 
forgot and never wanted him to stop. He was a master of the sensations, a 
magician at bringing all of the latent physical emotions their husbands and 
boyfriends had not surfaced to the top, and he knew, knew with the jungle 
instinct of a predatory lion that once he showed the pictures he was taking 
now, the mother would be his next victim. 

And more than that, he was utterly transfixed by Janice Cartwright. She 
stood, now totally unclothed, smiling at her daughter, her mouth parted and 
her teeth slightly bared, the tip of her pink tongue showing slightly. The 
petallike, hair-lined lips of her vagina were presented to his eyes and 
camera lens as if she was waiting for him to take her wantonly exposed 
portrait of sensuality, and the black triangle of her pubic hair somehow 
seemed to catch the sunlight and listen lewdly and invitingly. Her high, 
startlingly white, invitingly round breasts jutted out like twin, 
ruby-capped mountains, waiting to be climbed. Her legs, so slen der, so 
smoothly curving into her inner thighs and firm buttocks seemed to beg him 
to step across and bury himself between them. 

Laughing now, Janice held her pose for a long moment, thumbs pressed against 
her slender, sculptured sides, fingers splayed across her belly. "Well, 
Karen dear, I'm naked like you now." 

"See? It didn't hurt at all, did it?" Karen said, trying to control her 
strangely swimming head. "Now, come on; there's not to much sun left today. 
I'm sorry we didn't get an earlier start up here this morning." 

"There's always tomorrow," her mother said, sitting down beside her daughter 
and lovingly gazing at her. And I vow, she promised herself, that tomorrow I 
won't allow myself to feel so foolish being around my daughter naked, and 
that this wonderful freedom I've so long let myself miss won't stop me from 
sunbathing nude every day while we're here. 

And Ellery Quinn, unable to move, unable to speak for fear of being caught, 
could only stare at the two women for the total afternoon, at their twin 
lovelinesses as they spread the sun-tan lotion over each other's back, and 
then over themselves individually - a concession to modesty; as they 
stretched or sat up or walked in and out of their cabin for magazines or 
food; as they just were, so close to him and yet so far. Quinn loved it like 
this; the chase, the chance, he challenge, even though his cock was 
pulsatingly maddened the whole time by the absolute lustfulness of the scene 
he was witnessing. His camera was almost hot with the amount of film which 
had passed through it, and the pile of lewd, enticingly prurient poses he'd 
collected made him only want to snap more, which he did as the sun slowly 
wended its way over the sky and the many nerve-wracking hours passed so 
delightedly. 

"Mother.. ." 

"Mmm?" Jancie was on her back, her face cradled in her arms, her eyes closed 
as the hot summer sun roasted her skin in the heat of late afternoon. The 
oil seemed to be fairly bubbling on her, like basting on a turkey, but she 
didn't care ... nothing mattered as the sun drew all energy out of her, as 
her mind drowsed in semiconsciousness ... it was so good like this, without 
restraining cloth ... 

"Mother, would you mind if I went down to Stephan's Landing." 

Janice didn't even bother to move. It was too much trouble in her presently 
lethargic state. "No, Karen. I don't mind. Why?" 

Karen didn't reply at once. Puzzled, her mother stirred herself by the 
silence and turned over and raised herself up on one elbow, shielding her 
eyes with her other arm. "Karen?" 

Karen was sitting up now, bending over and rubbing at her feet absently, and 
Janice focused on the curve of her spine, its tiny ripples and the small 
pocket just at the top of her buttocks. She had tried not to seem to stare 
at her daughter's breasts and vagina, as she recalled that when she was that 
age she was overly sensative about her sex; but that was silly, she had told 
herself a while back - it was Karen's idea to be in the nude in the first 
place. Still, it was a matter of propriety, so she watched the back and arms 
rather than the way her breasts and nipples bob freely and the curl of 
sparse blonde pubic hair peek over the top of her thigh. 

Nonetheless, the revelation had finally come to Janice Cartwright that her 
little baby wasn't a baby any longer. She was a woman, in body and mind. 
Karen had been menstruating since she was eleven, but even then it was only 
an entrance to puberty. But now ... 

"Karen?" she repeated. "Is there something we forgot at the store when we 
shopped?" 

Karen let her feet go and turned to smile. "Well, in a way, mother." and 
then she averted her eyes. "In a way." 

"O-ho!" Janice suddenly caught on. Her daughter was certainly grown all 
right. "The boy there, the boy who was behind the counter. You want to see 
him, is that it?" 

"Well ..." 

"Well, go ahead. Don't let me stop you," Janice said. "I think it's a fine 
idea that you meet a boy of your own age up here." 

"You mean it, mother? I mean, we did come together, and I'd be leaving you 
all alone, and that really isn't fair. But, gee, he's awfully cute, and he 
likes me. He told me he'd like to see me while we're up here." Karen 
furrowed her forehead, worried. 

"He did, did he?" the mother smirked. "Fast worker. I bet while I was 
picking up the frozen foods, he was talking a blue streak to you. Well, 
don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Bring him back here, if you want, for 
dinner." 

"Oh, I will," Karen said, skipping to her feet, her breasts bouncing. "He 
doesn't get off work there until eight o'clock; he told me so, but I thought 
... well, I thought I'd talk to him until then anyway. If he can't come to 
dinner, I'll still bring him by. To introduce you, sort of. You know. It's 
only right." 

"It's only right that you have a good time up here, dear," Janice said. "How 
go on and get dressed. I'll sun myself some more and be all ready if and 
when he arrives." 

Karen bent down and kissed her mother tenderly on the cheek. Their breasts 
touched fleetingly, nipples against nipples, and then Karen was walking into 
the house, singing some unde-, finable tune under her breath. She dragged 
her towel with her, leaving the lotion for her mother. At first she had been 
really afraid that the two weeks up at Lake Stephen were going to be a drag, 
but then, her summer vacation from school had been turning into a bore 
around home. What was there to do in a city, with its burning concrete and 
soft macadam and stultifying, humid heat? Nothing. The friends she liked the 
most had all gone to camps or in the country the few that were left were all 
drips and weeds. 

But two weeks up in the nowhere with her mother? The two weeks her mother 
got off from work as manager of a department store dress department were the 
first two weeks in August, the most miserably hot time of all in the city, 
and it was that more than the desire to spend fourteen days with her mother 
which had convinced her to go. After all, a few dumb friends were better 
than none, and up at Lake Stephen there wasn't a movie or a dance or even a 
small town nearby. But leave it to Father to pick such a place. If he 
couldn't go along - and he never could because of some deal or another 
cooking he was going to make damned sure his wife and daughter stayed out of 
trouble, had nothing around to distract them from wanting to go home after 
it was over. 

And then when she and her mother had arrived in Stephen's landing, stopping 
for gas, instructions to their rental cabin, and food, Karen had met a boy 
her own age. What was his name? Karen briskly scrubbed herself in the 
shower, using a sponge to lather her body free of the oil, running her hands 
over her breasts and vagina, her mind intent on what he'd said was his name 
when he'd come up to her and asked to see her. Ernie ... Henry ... no, 
Arnold! Arnold Hutter, that was it! 

Her nipples seemed to stiffen at the thought of the good-looking, muscular 
boy in his Teeshirt and jeans, his curly brown hair and sparkling brown eyes 
as they looked at her, made her feel as if he was undressing her on the 
spot, right in the market. It was exciting, in a way, boldly provocative, 
and as he told her about himself she felt the wierd, spontaneous response to 
his ways. He was about eighteen, a good age for her, and even though he was 
so forward to her, Karen reflected that all the boys she knew in the city 
were just as much. Only maybe in the country they didn't try to hide it as 
much, were more open and honest and unsophisticated nd that appealed to her. 

All in all, she was extremely happy she'd decided to come. As she toweled 
her slender, young skin dry, she smiled at the reflection of herself in the 
tall dressing mirror on the door. She'd gotten closer to her mother than 
ever before. had discovered her mother to be more a person than she'd 
suspected, and it had been fun to be naked side-by-side with her. And naked 
like that, letting the sun gild her with a tan, her mind had turned to the 
boy, Arnold Hutter, and the almost challenging way about him. The excitement 
of first thinking about him - deciding that the spark of excitement seeing 
her mother naked had aroused in her was only because of her interest in 
Arnold coming out - then thinking about what he would do if he knew she was 
here, totally naked, lying out defensless, made her tingle all over. Then, 
as time passed, Ar nold had become stronger, had become a pervert peeking at 
her from a hole in the fence and wanting her, then had become a naked boy 
standing over her ... naked, naked, with his thing - his penis - long and 
hard and straight the way she'd seen her father's once in the morning as he 
was going into the bathroom. She'd clenched her thighs together, feeling the 
tiny rivulets of moisture once more form excitedly on her cuntal lips and 
pubic hair, knowing that she wanted to see him again. 

And that had led up to her asking her mother and of course her mother 
understood. She might be old and no longer interested in sex, but she had 
been young once and knew how her daughter felt ... Karen busily d r e s s e 
d in bra, pink panties, and short-skirted jumper. The top of the jumper was 
high enough so that it hid her breasts, but she still gave off the 
impression of being naked underneath. A summer dress, good for the heat. 
Good for getting a boy like Arnold Hutter interested. Oh, she could handle 
him. She was from the city, wasn't she? She could certainly stop the crude 
passes of some backwoods young stallion like him. No, Karen promised 
herself, she wasn't going to get into any trouble up here with Arnold 
Hutter, but she was going to have loads of fun getting up to that point ... 

After finding her scuffed loafers, she went out to say good-bye to her 
mother, who was nearly half-asleep again on the towel. 

"I'm going now," she called out. 

"Mmmmm," Janice replied sleepily. "Have a good time. Don't bring him back 
too early or I won't be dressed." 

"I won't. I won't bring him back until eight at the earliest." She giggled 
anticipatorily. "That is, if I can get him to come at all. You know, I don't 
know what might happen." 

Truer words were never spoken, child, the insidious Ellery Quinn chuckled to 
himself from his vantage point. Yon don't know what might happen - what is 
going to happen. - to yon and your mother. But you're going to find out, my 
pretty thing, and very shortly 

Quinn settled himself, contemplating what he was going to do now that the 
daughter was out of his way until eight o'clock. What a stroke of luck! But 
leave it to Hutter to get that little sweetheart jumping like she is. Now, 
let's see what her mother is going to do, all alone the way she is. All 
alone except for me and my camera. And if she's alone this evening, I'll 
come calling, with a surprise which will shock the clothes right off of her! 

Chapter 2 

Janice Cartwright continued to enjoy the sun, not thinking of anything 
except the wonderfully salient pleasure of her nakedness. Occasionally she 
could hear a distant motorboat on the lake, its engine angrily surging 
through the crystal blue water, or the sounds of birds twittering and cawing 
in the High Sierra pines, or the rustling of a chipmunk or other small 
creature in the underbrush. But she took little notice, her mind imbued with 
the general peace and contentment of the lake-land retreat. 

The sun beat steadily, and longer the shadows became .... 

Janice shivered as the impending cool evening touched her with tendrils of 
gray. She turned around and saw the sun had finally sunk so low as to be 
cresting the green fiberglas fence, still spilling its radiance on the wood 
slat patio, but over farther, nearer the house. At first she thought she'd 
go in, take her shower and dress, so she rose from her towel and padded 
barefoot to the small table where she kept her bikini and watch. She picked 
up the watch, and saw the time as she was about to put it on. Why, she 
thought, Karen had left awfully early, for it wasn't even six yet, still 
early afternoon at this time of year. The green fence, built high to protect 
her from prying eyes, had also blocked out much of the still-good tanning 
light. 

Janice looked down at her body, glistening from her many applications of 
suntan oil. She had been determined to get a tan when she'd agreed to come 
up here, a badge of her vacation to show off to her employees at the 
Emporium when she returned; well, she wasn't going to look like a South 
Seas, Islander standing in the cold, giving up before the sun did! She 
turned and changed the location of her towel and settled back down for 
another hour or so of baking. She had plenty of time .... 

But the break had awakened her, and as she lay on her back, supine to the 
gentle loving of the day, she no longer was able to drift into the comatose 
state she had been earlier. She tried to, but it was impossible - impossible 
for a number of reasons, all of them mental. Her mind probed and mulled over 
things as if she was an insomniac tossing in bed at two in the morning, some 
of her thoughts fuzzy and indistinct, and others long trains of ifs, ands, 
perhaps, and maybe. 

Janice Cartwright, both as wife and mother, was not a completely contented 
woman, and her troubles ran deep and still like a brooding well. She thought 
of Karen, her darling young daughter, thought of how alone she was without 
her companionship now, without the comfort of her nearness. It was as if she 
had come to a strange town without knowing anybody, arriving the way they 
had at the lake and having Karen hurry off to meet a boy. Not that the boy 
bothered her; she wasn't worried that Karen couldn't handle herself. Karen 
had been running around with the kids in her school, and P.S. 36, Torrance 
High, was considered a rough place, and if Karen had been able to stay a 
virgin in such an untamed, sin-spawning environment as thatwell, one gawky 
teenager up here wouldn't phase her. And Karen was a virgin, of that Janice 
was certain; Karen had sworn she was, and the family doctor had privately 
agreed after her last physical checkup. Karen was a good girl, a very good 
girl, and Janice was proud to be her mother, to have raised a fine, moral 
youngster as she in these chaotic times. 

Janice, faced with a husband who was more wedded to his work than to his 
family, had tried to keep current with the generations, had become both 
mother and father in a sense, as she became increasingly aware that Harlow 
wasn't taking on the responsibilities. From discussions, magazines, and 
television shows, she felt she'd gained a pretty true picture of how things 
are; to wit, that this generation was smarter, maturer, and more seeking of 
truth than any previous one. They could, too, because the pressure of making 
a living wasn't as keen in modern society, the money easier to get and 
credit a way of life, and more emphasis could be given to how one should 
live rather than how one can scrape by as best he could. Karen was of a 
lucky generation, in spite of the turmoil, Janice believed; while startling 
to her, she had to take a deep breath and admit she admired her daughter for 
suggesting the nude sunbathing, for honestly stating her healthy conviction 
that the body is beautiful and shouldn't be worshiped carnally, nor loathed 
for being the earthy container of one's soul. 

Karen would make a good wife for a man someday, Janice thought. And as 
lonely as it is, as sad as I feel not having her here, it is selfish not to 
let her be with boys her own age. No, it's best that she went to see the boy 
at the grocery store ... and best that I put up a brave front. 

The thought of Karen fused with the thought of Janice's husband, Harlow. 
Karen was the healthy one, preserving her body for the joys of love, yet not 
bound by the restrictions of a bygone, artificial code of Puritan ethics. 
When she found the man who would appreciate the extent of her gift, then she 
would give totally, completely, forever. Which was one hell of a lot more 
than Janice could say for her attitude when she'd married Harlow. Her mother 
had warned her about sex, about the nastiness inherent in men and the way 
her own body could betray her, and the result had been a sad farce of 
marital bliss. The wedding night had been one of stark terror for her as for 
the first time she'd seen a man's penis. The limp little worm on a baby boy 
when exposed during a diaper change was one thing; but the turgid, 
blood-filled pole which had stuck out from Harlow's loins had made her cower 
under the covers and whimper. Whimper! It almost made her cringe now 
remembering that incident. 

Harlow had taken her that night as he had on every other subsequent night 
he'd had the urge to make love. Make love? - no, to pummel her, to somehow 
punish her with a vengeance, as if he was striking back at his own brand of 
male frustrations, and it wasn't until too late that Janice found out that 
he had also been a virgin. His attitude had diminished in frenzy after he 
became used to the idea he could have what he wanted whenever he wanted; by 
the end of five years he took her the way he ate his breakfasthe didn't care 
what was served as long as it didn't take a long time to prepare. His 
interest in her had become less and less, until now he never touched her at 
all. She was that chattel and property Karen had so scorned, was a maid and 
cook and hostess for his cocktail parties. He was all work now, building 
himself and his company into an economic and political force, and she and 
Karen had been relegated to the status of subsidiary companies. 

And thinking of Harlow, knowing that he had insisted on her and Karen taking 
this vacation to get them out of his hair more than a genuine affection and 
concern for them, nauseated her, and her mind turned to what her physical 
body had already led her - to the warm, welcoming, loving arms of Jackson 
Trendell. 

Before she'd met Jackson Trendell, she'd become worried that Harlow's 
increasing disinterestedness was because of her, and after reading books, 
becoming increasingly aware of other women's lives and their problems, she 
woke up to the twin facts about her relationship with her husband. One, 
there wasn't another woman in Harlow's life as she'd suspected at first; for 
whatever emotional problems he had and wouldn't confide in her about, he had 
lost his desire for sex. He was content, at thirty-five, to live out his 
life with perhaps eight or ten orgasms a year. 

Two, a startling discovery that she, at thirtyfour years of age, had 
suddenly become sexually responsive. She didn't want sex every night, but 
her education had made her aware of the damage her mother had done, and this 
awareness peeled from her the false veneer of her frigidity. She needed 
loving, and she was re- fused it by a eunuch of a mate. She knew that the 
original fault lay much with her, though not all, not considering Harlow's 
peculiarities -but her continual frustration until the time she met Jackson 
Trendell was directly and totally Harlow's as far as she was concerned. 

Then, last year, Jackson had walked into her department to buy a dress for 
his current girl friend. He was a rangy man; chronologically older than 
Harlow, but younger in spirit and body; lean and hard-muscled, his darkly 
tanned face and bold walk more at home on a ranch than in the tailored suit 
he wore. He was alive and virile, and Janice could no more have resisted him 
if she'd wanted to than stopped breathing. She hadn't resisted, not the 
least, for a look passed between them with the intensity of a forest fire, a 
look which ended that day with Jackson forgetting his girl friend and buying 
the dress for her. 

And the look had blossomed into action a week later, at his apartment. She 
didn't care that he was an ill-paid insurance salesman, or that his 
apartment was cluttered and run-down, or that his car had a broken front 
seat. She'd found a man, a real man for the real woman she'd so recently 
discovered in herself. And she'd willingly made love with him, sensual and 
brazen, proud that he seemed to soak in her beauty with his eyes, then 
feasted on it with his hands, his mouth, his penis. That wonderful, 
irov-rigid, life-giving penis .... 

I have a good body, she said to herself as she lay in the sun. I really do. 
But it never brought me happiness in all the years of my marriage, but it 
does when I'm with, Jackson .... And her mind conjured up the last time 
they'd been together, the week before when Jackson told her not to go up to 
the lake, but to run away with him .. . and she almost had before she 
considered her daughter, Karen. If it wasn't for her daughter, Janice would 
long ago have left Harlow, but until Karen was on her own, that was 
impossible. 

Jackson had beet waked, as she had been, straddling her thighs as he learned 
over her, kissing her as his excitedly erect cock rubbed against her 
quivering, wetly aching pussy .... She tried to spread her legs, but his 
imprisoned hers, making her desire build even more. 

Janice quivered on the towel, shocked at her prurient remembrances. Then she 
let the dream come back, as if Jackson was here with her now, leaning over 
her on the porch of the cabin. She arched her loins in her mind, remembering 
... his buttocks had moved so that his penis would slide up and dozen iv the 
trembling, pink valley of her lusting cunt, and then the way it felt as her 
fingers reached down and touched it, slid the stretched foreskin back and 
forth, making him groan with similar delight to the teasing sensations he 
teas causing her .... 

Oh, God, I shouldn't think thoughts like this! Janice's mind screamed. It's 
sick! Lewd! But she continued to lie in the afternoon sun, her guilt 
assuaged by the belief she was alone with her sinful reveries, her stomach 
involuntarily churning with a series of fluttering sensations as the 
exciting images filtered vividly through her brain. Jackson was once more on 
top of her naked body, only lower, his breath hot in her ear, his turgid 
cock just inside the warm, straining lips of her vaginal mouth. She was 
straining harder toward him, her inner thigh and buttock muscles clearly 
visible as she slipped more of his blood-swollen penis inside her cunt, her 
womb dilating so she could take his great length all the way, deep ... deep 
up inside her aching stomach. 

A tender aching began in her pulsing cunt as Janice could almost feel her 
lover's penetration o n c e more. Unconsciously - because she couldn't 
control herself - she raised her hand and touched her jutting breasts, 
rubbed her nipples with her thumb, found that they were already hard; her 
tactile contact intensified the throbbing in her loins and the moistness 
that was wetting her excited pubic lips. 

"Oh, God, Janice, Janice ... take me ... take me ..." Jackson's words 
reverberated in the mind of the distraught young wife. She almost could feel 
again his body fall upon hers, pressing her breasts flat and crushing the 
breath within her as his cock soared up into her waiting vaginal tunnel. 
"Milk me, lover ... milk me ... Ooohhhh!" 

A spasm of shame made Janice momentarily halt in her fantasizing but there 
was no use deluding herself. She was aroused, highly aroused, and she was 
alone. If only Jackson was here, for she needed release now desperately. It 
had been a mistake to shed her clothing in front of Karen, allowed her to be 
talked into her nude exhibition, for see what it has now led to ... but no, 
it was wrong to blame her daughter for her own inability to control her 
sexual urges. Karen was the right one, the healthy one, displaying her 
lovely nudity innocently and without any prurient thoughts ... it was 
herself, Janice, who was wrong for turning the purity of the body into evil 
thoughts of sex. But sex wasn't evil, it was good, so good even with her 
lover in the guilty relationship of their adultery .... 

Janice continued to massage her breasts, and slowly she capitulated to her 
physical urgency, her need for the release which was growing like a cancer 
within her loins and belly, until only the reassuring knowledge that she was 
alone and wouldn't be caught at her salacious actions was left ... that and 
the building waves of her remembered embrace with Jackson that afternoon a 
week ago. 

They were going to cum, to explode hi the fiery constellation of ecstasy. 
She felt herself taut, her eyes clenched tight, her cant clenched around his 
lunging penis like tiny lips around a hungry child's all-day sucker. "I'm 
cumming ... I'm cumming..." was the chant which sang through, her mid. 
"Cumming ... cumming ... cumming...." 

Janice's other hand moved to her now widesplayed thighs, matted with her 
excited vaginal secretions, and gently she fingered her soft, writhing 
flesh, manipulated her still softer pubic hair and inner lips until she was 
nearly overwhelmed by the tingling passions. Her finger came in contact with 
the trembling bud of her clitoris and she began to gasp in total 
abandonment, rolling nakedly about on the towel with the delight of her 
impending release. Faster and faster her hand rubbed her seething pink 
vagina, her mind a torrent of Jackson's body, Jackson's penis pumping into 
her, his arms, his mouth. Nothing existed except her lover, and herself as 
they mounted their surging bodies toward their mutual climax .... 

Ellery Quinn's mouth gaped wide in astonishment as he watched the woman play 
her fingers across her naked breasts, while her lower body seemed to jerk 
and lunge as if devil-possessed from her other hand swirling among the dark 
black hairs of her widestretched pussy. He heard her grunt and sigh, saw her 
tongue running wildly along her open lips. 

"Oh, God! Oh ... God!" he heard her cry out as she bucked her hips, forcing 
her fingers into the warm tunnel of her cunt. 

Quinn leaned forward, gripping the side of the porch, feeling as if frozen 
to the wall. His penis was hard against the wooden supports, and he worked 
the shutter of the Polaroid as fast as he could, snap ... wait ... rip off 
the negative strip ... snap ... wait ... and rip, over and over, and all the 
while his breath was harsh, his mind enraptured by the lovely woman's body 
spread so revealingly before him, and his own breath rose and fell as her 
body lifted off the towel and fell back again, and the rigidity of his cock 
was so hard that he imagined it pressing against the velvety texture of her 
downy, flesh-pink slit between her legs rather than against unyielding wood. 
Wild shocks of pleasure stabbed through him at the sight of her lasciviously 
grinding away, at the idea that she would soon be reacting like that to him. 

He saw Janice's eyes grow glassy and a sticky fluid seep from between her 
smooth, fleshy buttocks as they bumped up and down from the wild ecstasy 
swirling within her. He felt his buttocks tighten and he groaned 
inadvertently himself as he pushed yet harder against the porch, imagining 
the tingling inside his gut as the rubbery tip of his prick pressed into 
her, its blunt head replacing her fingers which he could so thoroughly watch 
as they slid in and out of her tight, elastic vagina. His cock would fit so 
nicely in there, would work its way so perfectly against the wet, 
hair-fringed little ring of flesh ... his cock was entering now, he thought 
through a heated haze of desire, slowly slithering into the warm, throbbing 
moisture .... 

Then he sucked in his breath as he saw a rippling shudder break in jerking 
waves across the lust-filled surface of the woman's excitedly f l u s h e d 
body. "Ahhhhh ! Ohhhh, Jackson!" came the wail, the arching of her back, as 
Janice Cartwright imagined her illicit lover bringing her to her climax .... 
And Ellery Quinn's prick suddenly ejaculated as his imagination let him 
enjoy the fiery sensations of orgasm waft over him, burst from the head of 
his pumping cock to fill his bathing trunks with the sperm that he, in his 
mind, was shooting far into the yielding flesh of the frenzied, 
black-pussied woman he was spying upon. The wild ache in his loins erased 
momentarily, Ellery Quinn choked back a gasping sob and fell back onto the 
ground, hardly able to hold onto the camera. 

As her orgasm began to ebb, Janice Cartwright's firm, quivering buttocks 
sank to the towel and her hand stilled its mad fingering of her wet, 
bursting cunt, and she lay still. Her chest heaved with the charge of her 
release, and her eyes were tightly squeezed shut as sanity slowly returned 
to her mind, and the image of Jackson making love to her faded slowly, like 
the sun above her. And in its place came utter humiliation, the shame of 
guilt for her actions. 

Her masturbation would have been the cause of an indignant, wrathful scene 
had she caught Karen self-abusing her body that way. What was the matter 
with her? Were her long years of sexual starvation so harsh that Jackson and 
his love couldn't fulfill her? That she now had to resort to arousing her 
own breasts and vagina for satisfaction, as if she was a nymphomaniac unable 
to control her own emotional stability? Stop this self-torture, she told 
herself; it was useless to chastise herself - she couldn't go back in time 
and not do it. She'd have to watch herself more closely in the future, 
that's all, and after another five minutes she felt better, calmer. After 
all, nobody had seen her, nobody knew .... She rose and walked to the cabin, 
gathering her things on the table and then opened the sliding glass door, 
stepping inside. 

The cabin, a new redwood and pine Alpine type, made with a peaked roof so 
the winter snow wouldn't cave it in, was darker than the outdoors, strangely 
silent in its bare furnishings. H a r l o w had rented it sight unseen, 
through another real estate agent specializing in summer retreats, and it 
hadn't been a bad choice. It lived up to the color brochures as much as 
anything lives up to its advertising; nicely decored in the rustic, woodsy 
idea of bare walls, beam ceilings, and black wrought iron legs on the 
pseudo-hewn wood t a b l e s and chairs. But the carpet was matting, a grass 
fiber which tickled her feet as the wool shag in her own home didn't, and 
she couldn't find things easily - what little there was in the way of 
glasses and dishes and other accoutrementsunused to their location as she 
was. It was fine for two weeks, but there was still an air to it of 
belonging to somebody else, and she didn't feel totally settled as she would 
have if this was hers. 

The cabin was also much cooler than the outside, and Janice hugged herself 
by crossing her arms and rubbing her shoulders, noting that she was getting 
goose-pimply all over, even on her breasts. 

She walked over to where a kitchenette of stove, refrigerator, and sink, all 
in one porcelain unit, was set into an alcove at the far side of the living 
room, next to the bathroom and across from the one, tiny double-bed bedroom. 
She had planned to put some coffee on, figuring it would have perked and be 
ready by the time she'd finished her shower, but after a moment's 
reflection, she decided a drink would settle her nerves and warm her body 
better. Janice wasn't a drinker, though she had been drunk occasionally like 
most, but her doctor had prescribed having a drink before dinner as a way of 
settling her nerves - which was what she'd gone to him about before she'd 
realized the true cause of her emotional upset, her lack of a meaningful 
sexual relationship. The idea had been tried, and in time turned to a 
custom, and she'd packed a new bottle of gin in her suitcase for just that 
purpose. 

The bottle neck rattled against the glass as she poured the liquor, a sign 
that she was as nervous as she thought; she poured a good dol- lop, better 
than usual, and drank it down with only a slight grimace. Then she showered; 
it took a long time to wash the muscilage of her secretions from her pubic 
hair and inner thighs, and still longer to shed the crawly feeling which 
still festered coldly between her shoulder blades as she thought about what 
she'd done to herself on the porch. 

Dressed in a pair of colorful culottes - a body-fitting, one-piece robe with 
flared legs and a big zipper from loins to neck - -she sat down in a chair, 
and finding herself trembling, poured herself another gin. She sat, drinking 
slowly, with nothing else to do .... 

Janice wasn't drunk, but she wasn't feeling bad, either, when her daughter 
arrived with Arnold Hutter at eight-fifteen. The mother immediately approved 
of Hutter, was impressed by his manners and warm openness and the way he 
obviously liked Karen by the way he kept looking at the girl and was so 
solicitous of her wishes. 

"He drove me home after work," Karen said, her own eyes flashing. Evidently 
things had gone well down at Stephen's Landing, Janice mused; the two of 
them seem very happy with each other. Too happy? No ... no ... a young 
innocent summer romance at the most .... 

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Janice asked. "I haven't started 
cooking yet, but I can have something whipped up in a jiffy." 

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Cartwright," the boy said, smiling graciously, 
"but I sort of asked Karen here if she'd like to go with me around the other 
side of the lake to some friends of mine. They're having a barbecue on the 
beach, and afterwards we'll dance. That is, if it's okay with you." 

"Oh, it is, isn't it, Mother? It is, isn't it?" 

Janice steeled herself, somehow managing to keep her bright smile on her 
face, hiding the sinking feeling inside her. "Of course it is, Karen. I 
think that sounds simply marvelous. I'm sure you'll have a good time. Don't 
you want to change first, though?" 

"No need," Arnold Hutter said hastily. "The others will be dressed just as 
casually. I mean, look at me!" He grinned infectiously, holding out his 
jeans. The last thing he wanted was for Karen to put on something difficult 
to remove; the wild jumper she had on now would slip off of her like the 
peel off a banana when the time came. His cock gave a little jerk of 
anticipatory excitement as his mind had the flash of this lovely teenager 
moaning and mewling out her passion underneath his pistoning body. "She's 
just fine. Honest!" 

"Well ... all right, then," Janice Cartwright said. "Now, you don't stay out 
too late, Karen," she admonished motherly. 

"Aw, Mom," her daughter grumbled. "I'm not a kid anymore." 

"Come on, or we'll be late for the feed," Arnold said, grabbing her arm. 
"You're hungry, aren't you?" 

"'Bye, Mother!" Karen shouted as she raced out the door. 

"'Bye-" But Janice's words were lost to the slamming of the front door and 
the surge of Hutter's open-exhaust car. She settled back in her chair again, 
morose, feeling lost and more alone than before. Her eyes blurred slightly 
with a film of water, and she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. 
Get a hold of yourself, she admonished herself. You're just being 
self-pitying, knophig around feeling sorry for yourself for no reason. Get a 
book and read .... But Janice didn't feel like reading. Take a walk... . But 
the lonely, a g i t a t e d young mother didn't feel like going out. Well, 
do something ... ! So, she poured herself another touch of gin. 

Crickets sawed a mournful dirge outside, and a grayness settled over the 
house. Janice sipped the gin in the growing darkness, then got up to turn on 
the lights. The brightness didn't cheer her at all. She was alone, and the 
strange cabin and unknown country oppressed her with their unfamiliarity. 
Her husband wasn't here, and would only have been a body grouching about 
everything had he been; Karen had deserted her, and logically knowing her 
daughter hadn't done it intentionally and it was the better thing for her to 
do didn't help dispel her gloom; Jackson was back in the city, and she 
wondered if her lover was missing her, alone in his shabby apartment, as 
much as she was missing him .... There was a sudden knocking on the door, 
interrupting Janice's reverie with a start, making her nearly spill the 
glass of gin. "Who ... who is it?" she called out. 

"Ma'am?" a husky, deep, rich voice came through the wood. "Ma'am, I'm your 
next door neighbor. I'm in the cabin just up the road, the one set back 
aways." 

Janice crossed to the door and opened it, stood there as she looked at her 
caller. He was tall, almost as tall as Jackson, she thought instantly. Not 
as tanned, either, but with a wide face marked by two long dimples and a 
little, light gray moustache and pointed beard. His face was creased with 
lines and a broad smile that revealed the startling whiteness of his even 
teeth. His eyes were a deep, lustrous gray, and he had a long nose which was 
hooked a little at its bridge. He was dressed in a pair of red swim trunks 
which were so tight that Janice couldn't avoid seeing the bulge of his 
genitals, the outline of his large penis against the round sac of his 
testicles, and over his massive shoulders and chest he wore a terry cloth 
beach robe, tied at his waist with a rope cord. 

"Yes? What can I do for you?" the young wife and mother managed to say. 

His smile grew wider, and his eyes seemed to catch the light of the room and 
flash back. "Ma'am," he said, "my name is Ellery Quinn. Mind if I come in?" 

Chapter 3 

Karen Cartwright looked around at the other couple and laughed, "This is 
really a keen place, isn't it?" 

Arnold Hutter grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, it sure is. Ham's Old Man must own 
half this side of Stephen's Lake, I bet. He built this house as a retreat 
long before all the tourists discovered it." 

Ham - a nickname for Hammond Ellisonlooked up from where he was sitting. Ham 
was slightly older looking than Arnold, about twenty, Karen guessed, and was 
big as if supporting his nickname in size as well. He had long blonde hair 
and small, ferretlike eyes which also seemed to have a hint of yellow to 
them and which were always moving as if he was watching for some- thing to 
strike out. Beside him was his girl friend, Lola Aubrey, a short teen-ager 
perhaps a year older than Karen, built with that Southern European 
voluptuousness of large, rich-swelling breasts like melons and curving hips 
with seductively swaying buttocks and limber legs. She liked to giggle a 
lot, Karen had noticed, even when there was nothing apparently to find 
funny. They were all sitting on the flagstone patio of the large brick 
house, having retired to the warm outdoors after dinner, which had been 
served when she and Arnold had arrived a short time before. The house had 
impressed her from the start, the size and way it sprawled across the 
timberland, and the long gravel drive from the road which ran around the 
lake to its circular entrance and parking lot. 

Karen and Arnold had hit it off right from the beginning, right from when 
she'd gone back to the store at Stephen's Landing and stayed around until it 
closed. Usually she'd never have considered "throwing herself' at a boy like 
she was at Arnold, but what the heck - it was vacation, wasn't it? She was 
only going to be up here a couple of weeks, and there simply wasn't time to 
play cay, not if she wanted to be taken places and do things with such an 
exciting guy like him. 

And so far it had been swell. He'd talked a blue streak, but about all sorts 
of interesting things and not the usual silly junk that boys she knew talked 
about - cars and other girls. No, Arnold Hutter was a find, as far as she 
was con cerned, and she wasn't about to screw it up by playing hard to get. 
Unless he started getting overly fresh. 

Perhaps a kiss tonight, she'd promised herself on the way up. A little 
necking and that was all. Later, like next week, when it was too late for 
him to get her any farther, she'd allow him to take her bra off and play 
with her titties. She liked that, even though she hadn't let a boy do that 
to her until last year, and she'd found that her breasts were extremely 
sensitive, especially around her nipples. She'd learned in health class that 
contrary to general opinion, many women aren't excited by having their 
breasts felt, and some don't like it at all - but not her. Boy, the way a 
hand on her breast made her squirm with heat! She peripherally wondered if 
her mother was the same - -0r had been when she was interested in such 
things years ago. 

But that was far from her mind now as she sat in the comfortable porch swing 
with Arnold, holding hands, still fascinated by the ivy-framed french doors 
which seemed to cover the whole back of the Ellison home, and the broad set 
of steps leading down to the water's edge. She turned her head from the 
inspection of the house, and looked out over the dark expanse of water as 
Arnold continued his graphic description of the property. 

"... Ellison imported eight tons of sand just to make the beach, and see the 
dock over there?" He pointed to his left, where a wooden pier jutted out 
into the lake. "In the boat house is a brandnew Century inboard-outboard 
cruiser. A twentyfour footer, and maybe one of these days Ham will take us 
water-skiing." 

"I ... I never learned how to," Karen admitted, hanging her head in false 
modesty. 

"Ah hell, pal," Ham said expansively to Arnold, "if your chick wants to 
learn, bring her around. Lola and I will teach her." He snickered slightly 
and Lola giggled, holding her hand to her mouth. 

"Bullshit! If anybody teaches Karen to ski, it'll be me on my day off. How 
about it, honey?" he asked, turning to her. 

"Sure," she gasped. "I'm a good swimmer, and ... and I do a lot of ice 
skating at the rink back home." 

"Yeah, that's the stuff," Arnold said, and took his hand from hers and 
placed it around her shoulder, squeezing her protectively. There was an 
instant which Karen froze, and then she snuggled to him, feeling safe and 
warm and not at all as if Arnold was trying to get more than he should .... 

Arnold winked at Ham, who caught the sign and winked back. Arnold let his 
arm dangle, not wanting to scare his little pigeon by being overly forward 
until the right time, but as he moved in a gesture of consideration, he let 
his fingers brush her breast "accidentally," and felt her gasp slightly. He 
smirked to himself as he thought what was in store for Miss City Bitch as 
the evening progressed, what he was going to do to this inexperienced little 
virginand that she was a virgin he was confidentonce she reached the stage 
of helpless submission. The dinner had been planned with Ham and Lola, who 
both got a big kick out of seeing one of Arnold's dates succumb, in the same 
style other dinners for other girls had been set up. Lots of hot Mexican 
style food which Lola was a whiz at preparing, with lots of salt and things 
to make one hell of a thirst. And then there was the beer and sangria. 

 The first time Arnold had been exposed to sangria had been when he'd been 
here on a date with a girl Ham and Lola had introduced him to. He'd ended up 
fucking her on the living room rug, drunk out of his ever-loving mind to 
where he didn't care if Ham's Old Man had walked in, instead of just being 
in front of them. And then he'd let Lola suck him off .... That had been the 
start, the introduction to Ham and Lola and how they got their jollies, and 
between them and Mr. Ellery Quinn, he'd had quite a summer up here. It had 
been a full, if draining, season for Arnold and he figured he'd had his 
pants down as much as he'd had them up what with one girl or another. Just 
like with Quinn, if things worked out with Ham and Lola tonight, he'd end up 
taking on Lola, who'd fuck your ears off with that insatiable box of hers, 
while good old Ham pounded into what was left of Karen's virginal little 
hole. 

And leave it to an inexperienced girl like Karen to guzzle the sangria like 
it was an inoffensive sweet wine, not having the faintest idea what sangria 
would do to her. They'd told her it was just wine when she'd refused the 
beer and tried to make do with water during the dinner, but the saltiness 
and hotness of the food had finally gotten to her, just like it eventually 
got to them all, and the chilled red liquid went down so easily .... She 
never caught the other tastes the base of red wine hid; the Contreau, the 
regular and apricot brandies, the little bit of lemon-line fizz to get it 
into her system faster .... 

"Let's go down to the beach, everybody," Ham said, standing up and hefting 
his pants around his waist. That was all he wore, a pair of dirty tan 
dungarees, and his large stomach sort of bulged over the belt-line, his 
navel prominent and slightly obscene-looking to Karen. Lola agreed, 
giggling, and jumped up beside her boyfriend. She was wearing tight black 
toreador pants but because of her figure, which Karen snidely prophesied 
would become blowzy in another ten years, any pair of pants would have 
accentuated her hips and buttocks with a second-skin look to them. As she 
stood, Karen gulped with the unnerving view of the girl's vaginal slit, a 
view she'd tried not to stare at unmannerly all evening, but how could a 
person not notice that the pants were so tight through the crotch that they 
actually followed the contours of her cunt lips and mound, creasing along 
the vertical line of her well-developed pussy? Karen swallowed, driving from 
her mind the image of exactly what Lola's relationship with Ham was, but 
instinctively knowing in the bright, honest way she considered things that 
Lola and Ham were not strangers to each other's bodies, that in the terms of 
the cruder boys in her school, she and the boy "fucked." Fuck ... the bald, 
gutter word chilled her, and as she stood up with Arnold, she let her mind 
think for a second that the word had popped into her mind only because of 
the wine. 

"And don't forget the sangria," Ham called over his shoulder as he ran down 
the steps to the beach. Lola grabbed the seemingly ever-full pitcher and two 
of the glasses. Arnold smiled at Karen, picked up the one she'd been 
drinking from and handed it to her, then picked up his and down to the beach 
they went, arm in arm. 

She stumbled once, groping for Arnold, who caught her with ease. Hot damn, 
he thought, she's had a few, all right, and she's going to have a lot more 
... and maybe a little something to smoke too just to really get her mind 
blown. Yes sir, by the time he took Karen home, she'd know what fucking was 
all about! 

From a weatherproof locker at the back of the beach, Ham took a half-dozen 
canvas cushions, and in a minute the four of them were sitting on them and 
talking and joking. Arnold poured Karen more sangria, and insisted she drink 
it all down in one swallow. 

"What's the matter," he challenged when she balked. "You drink, don't you?" 

"I have been, Arnold," she replied. "I ... I don't want to get sick, that's 
all." 

"You won't," he promised. "This wine is so mild a baby can take it. See?" He 
tilted his head and drank his glass with a loud gargling noise. "Now, go on, 
be a sport." 

"Be a sport," Karen murmured to herself, and then stiffening her resolve to 
be just that, to not ruin Arnold's opinion of her, and trusting that it was 
just alight wine, she drank the sangria quickly. She'd become a little 
thick-headed during dinner, as if the "wine" had begun to affect her, but 
she'd passed it off as the heaviness of the delicious meal and the fact that 
she was so excited. The warm evening air had done much to clear her mind - 
or so she thought, not realizing she was being slowly brought past the point 
when she would care how she felt, and her euphoria at being in so wonderful 
a surrounding, so magnificent for a city-bred, apartment-raised child as 
herself was making her not notice the insidious effects of the alcohol as 
much as anything. 

"Whoo!" she breathed, taking a deep gasp of air and setting the glass beside 
her, empty. Her head was whirling, and the lake was churning before her eyes 
in slow, sweeping circuits. 

"Here, have a cigarette," Ham offered, leaning over Lola and Arnold to 
extend a pack. 

His hand covered the brand name, and Karen, who didn't like non-filtered 
kinds, only saw the loose, tobacco-filled end of the cigarette sticking out, 
and she shook her head. 

"No, no thank you, Ham. I've got my own." 

"Aw, go ahead. They're a special type Lola got when she was in Mexico, and 
they've got a lot more flavor than the usual. Besides," he added with a 
smile, "you didn't bring yours with you, did you?" 

"No, I didn't, but=" 

Arnold, who'd made sure that her purse had been conveniently forgotten 
inside the house, snorted derisively. "For the love of God, take one, will 
you, Karen! I ain't going all the way up to the house to get yours, let me 
tell you, and Ham looks awful stupid just holding the pack like that. 
Je-zus!" In emphasis, he took one out of the pack and then another, almost 
slapping it in Karen's hand. 

Karen felt like biting her tongue. How uncool could she be? She put the 
coarse cigarette in her mouth and let Arnold light it. She inhaled as she 
usually did and came up coughing. Arnold laughed. "A little stronger than 
those hernia-causers you suck on normally, aren't they?" The others laughed, 
and Karen fought back a blush of embarrassment. She'd show them! They were 
all sucking on theirs, so she'd do it too, somehow. The second breath was 
easier, and Ham was right, the tobacco was tastier, giving off a strange, 
sour-sweet aroma that was very pleasant. She exhaled, looked around with a 
smile of triumph at the other three, but they were all engrossed in smoking. 
There was a small warning bell tolling in the back of her mind, and the 
feeling of an odd discomfort that somehow she'd gotten involved with more 
than she'd originally bargained for, and the bell continued to warn her to 
watch out ... watch out ... that the others were showing too much concern 
over a simple cigarette. 

Frowning, she looked at the cigarette which by this time she'd halfway 
smoked. "What ... what kind did you say this was?" 

For a city girl, you're awfully stupid or awfully damned blind, Arnold 
thought contemptuously. But he chuckled disarmingly and answered: "Mexican, 
honey, and the tobacco they grow down there is darker because of the soil. 
That's all." 

The sangria was pulsing through her bloodstream now, a cumulative punch 
starting with her first dinnertime sip and culminating in that last 
chug-a-lug glass, and her brain wasn't functioning the way it should, and a 
warm loginess had settled between her eyes, spreading a similar contentment 
through her young, sweet body as the sun had done that afternoon. The 
warning bell became fainter, more distant, and the realization that she was 
actually smoking marijuana never penetrated the headiness she was 
experiencing. Another time, another place, hit cold with the cigarette she 
now smoked so placidly, and the innocent teen-ager would have remembered her 
school lessons, remembered the films and pictures and lectures about the 
drug and immediately caught on. But the completely callous, totally corrupt 
Arnold Hutter and his two compatriots had counted on this and had set their 
devious course well ... too well for a mere fifteen-year-old virgin to have 
foreseen and counteracted. 

A girl of Karen's age can be educated beyond her tender years, can be raised 
and taught a maturity which makes her see things with a wisdom of an adult, 
and can be instilled with a healthy outlook on herself and life which can 
save her many bitter problems over her lifetime. But a fifteen-year-old girl 
is still not twenty, or thirty, or older. She has just plain not lived any 
longer than those fifteen years, and she can't be expected to have the 
experience which time, and time alone, can give. Her deportment and opinions 
may make her seem to be that experienced, but it is only a facade; the 
difference between experience and intelligence is the difference between 
making a first mistake and learning from it, or continuing to repeat that 
mistake. 

Karen Jackson's mother was wrong - Karen was not able to take care of 
herself. Karen herself was wrong - she was a child, and a child heading 
toward a disastrous confrontation between the myth of her maturity and the 
facts of reality. 

But at the moment, lounging on the beach cushion, smoking the marijuana 
cigarette, she was oblivious to anything except the present situation. The 
curling fog in her lungs and the alcohol had been working their insidious 
ways, just as Arnold Hutter and Hammond Ellison and Lola knew it would 
because of their years and experience. She felt good, staring out at the 
lapping water, laughing and talking with the others on the quiet beach. 
Another glass was passed to her - how many did this make? Who knew? Who 
cared? - and then a n o t h e r cigarette .... 

The lovely teen-ager rested her chin against her drawn-up knees and d r e a 
m i l y leaned against Arnold to let him know she was having fun and was 
happy being here with him ... and the delicious, dulling illusion of liquor 
and marijuana pervaded her slim, untouched body, and there was a delightful 
tingling deep inside her, so deep that she couldn't even imagine its bottom, 
its end .... 

Lola giggled after Ham told a dirty joke about a farmer, his daughter, the 
traveling salesman, and a big brown bear. She jumped up, whirling around as 
if in worship of the blinking stars above. "You can all sit here on your 
asses if you want, but I want to go for a swim! Wheee!" she yelled, and 
romped over the sand, down to the water. "Hey! It's really warm! C'mon, you 
bums!" And then she giggled again. 

Karen squinted through the darkness, seeing Lola only as a black spectre 
against a gray backdrop of sky. But she seemed to be doing something to her 
clothing ... Karen tried harder to focus, especially after Ham roared to his 
feet and raced after his girl, yeowling that he was going to join her and 
dunk her in the water. He, too, was pulling at his clothes. 

The teen-ager was tempted to follow. "It's too bad I didn't know we would 
swim, Arnold. You said we were going to dance, so I didn't bring a suit 
along with me." 

Arnold lay on his back. "Neither did they, honey. They're skinny-dipping." 

"Wh-what?" Karen gasped, jerking upright. "They're naked?" 

Arnold felt his young, naive date jump from the sudden and unexpected 
realization that a few feet from her was a blatant display of male and 
female nudity. He curled an arm around her waist, rubbing her stomach and 
thigh with his hand. "Yeah, naked, honey. What the hell, why not? They've 
been fucking each other, so why not swim together? You want to try it?" 

Karen was at a loss for words. She stared at the water, not wanting to 
because of her instinctive morality, yet drawn to it by the prurient 
sensation which Arnold's revelation and his utter calm acceptance and casual 
use of the four-letter word seemed to generate in her belly. She could see 
the outline of Lola and Ham as they splashed and frolicked in the lake, 
shouting and laughing and swimming, and even though their forms were 
indistinct, she could see the pile of clothes on the shore and hear their w 
o r d s. Their words ... their lust-inciting words .... 

Come on, you bitch, let me grab that tit again .... Yon do, anal I'll bite 
your cock off . ... Yaaa, your cunt is full of seaweed .... I'm going to get 
it full of something, Daddy-o, just as soon as I get hold of it .... 

"No, no, I couldn't Arnold," she finally managed to stammer. But through the 
intoxicating haze of alcohol and marijuana came the salaciously exciting 
desire to do just that, to strip her clothes off and jump in after them, and 
in sympathy her drugged and alcohol-plied body began to twitch 
spasmodically. She pressed her thighs tightly together, worming them down on 
the cushion, only to find that the rough material of her dress bunched 
together and grazed the sensitive, panty-covered lips of her vagina, and 
more throbbings of secret pleasure darted in the bud of her clitoris, try as 
she might to hold them back. 

But it was to no avail. The lulling, sensual effects of the combined drugs, 
and the lecherous tableau before her innocent, wide-staring eyes were too 
much to be controlled, and it worked its debauching influence in the 
undefiled teenage child. She couldn't resist the overwhelming fire swelling 
her breasts and loins, and she moaned and squirmed, terrified that should 
Ham and Lola return to the cushions in a dis play of nakedness, she'd do 
something she'd be sorry for the rest of her life. 

Arnold didn't attempt to force the issue about the naked swimming, knowing 
that it would only stiffen a weakening resolve which had to be overcome by t 
e n d e r n e s s. The sight was enough to work its magic on her; he could 
feel her heat and trembling fever, and secretly gloated over what was sure 
to follow. Instead he continued to stroke her, and then with his other hand 
he took her shoulder and made her lean back, down on the cushions beside 
him. 

"Shh, now, honey," he whispered into her quivering ear. "If it bothers you 
so much, don't watch them. Hell, I didn't know they would get so drunk to do 
this, but don't let it get you this way, so worked up, so frightened. Gee, I 
thought a girl like you would know about things like this, being so hip ... 
." 

Karen cuddled in Arnold's arms, feeling his hot breath on the side of her 
face, his hands so soft and comforting on her back, her hair, her sides. She 
thought about her speech to her mother that day about how naked bodies 
aren't to be considered evil or dirty, and the marijuana- and liquor-filled 
youngster let herself fall more into the carnal trap by mentally allowing 
herself to rationalize that Ham's body and Lola's body weren't any less 
clean than hers or her mother's - and then the remembrance of her mother 
standing over her, her breasts with their brown-areoled nipples and white, 
globu lar tautness, and then the sweet, black curls of pubic hair with the 
slight hint of her pinkrimmed vagina made Karen shiver with still more 
emotion, the emotion which had been released from her inner soul by the twin 
demons of sangria and marijuana. 

"Baby, baby.. ." Arnold c r o o n e d in soft tones, and his hand moved in 
small circles on her back, then around to the front, almost touching her 
breasts, but not quite. He thought about her breasts, how they were begging 
to be taken out of their tight restraining brassiere and suckled, and his 
cock swelled in his pants, the tension grinding in his testicles until he 
thought they were going to burst. He could barely contain his impetuousness, 
for this sweet, tight, little virgin in his arms was going to be one hell of 
a fuck once she let herself go, but he was going to have to take his time, 
let nature do the work for him so he wouldn't lose it all. Slowly he tilted 
her face up to his, sensed that she was breathing harshly, moaning with her 
inner passions which were being unfolded like a flower in the morning sun as 
her mind whirled with the drugs and the alcohol. Her lips were moist and 
parted, her eyes shut ... and then he kissed her. 

His kisses made her surge with excitement, seemed to set off the rocket 
which had been so tenuously held in check until then. Karen mewled under the 
pressure of his wetly grinding lips, but after one panicky moment, fell 
limply to him, savoring his lips and darting tongue worming by her teeth and 
into her mouth; she had never dreamed that a boy kissing her could stir her 
so much, could arouse her the way Arnold did, and then his hand crept up and 
touched one of her breasts, and for some unexplainable reason, they were 
twin comets of fire tonight to her, and she couldn't have stopped his gentle 
massage of her sensitive young flesh for anything. 

"No ... no..." she murmured through his kisses, trying to force herself to 
stop him before he tried anything further, and she squirmed back, but he 
only pressed his hands harder against her palpitating young breast, fondling 
the soft tender globe through her brassiere. Oh, God, she wanted Arnold to 
like her, wanted to be his girl friend, and wanted his hands on her breasts 
... yes, wanted her breasts touched and fingered ... and the euphoric 
sensations allowed to be fully awakened by the moralbreaking marijuana made 
her desires seem the most important thing in the world at that moment, and 
she pressed her thighs tighter together in a vain effort to cut off the 
maddening tingle which again invaded the wetly aching valley of her cunt. 

Arnold Hutter massaged the teen-ager's breasts and knew Karen was excited 
almost beyond control. Everything was working perfectly: the sangria, the 
marijuana, the naked swimming ... and he could tell the stupid little virgin 
was responding by the way her nipples were hardening under the cloth, 
puckering her bra and jumper as he took the tiny buds in his thumb and 
forefingers and rolled them. Karen gasped and let her head roll back, 
uplifting her swelling mounds to his hands and looking out at the water with 
drug-glazed eyes. 

Sensing his victory with impatience, Arnold moved his other hand inside the 
open back of her jumper and fumbled with her bra snaps. Karen labored for 
breath and squirmed harder, which only pushed the swollen, tingling lips of 
her pussy down harder against the cushion again and made her more excited 
than ever. 

"Oh ... no ... please, no ... I've never done this before ..." 

"Always a first time, honey," he whispered lewdly into her ear. "Relax, like 
you're a big girl now, aren't you? I mean, take a gander at Lola and Ham. 
They've come back from swimming." 

"Lola ... Ham..." she moaned, and then her eyes cleared for an instant, and 
she stared up in shocked disbelief. Lola Aubrey was standing by the cushion, 
giggling, with a weird fire dancing in her black eyes. Droplets of water 
were covering her naked body, and her long, dark hair was dripping on the 
sand. She was fondling her own left breast with one hand, making the 
globeshaped flesh stand out invitingly, the wide nipple a huge dark button 
that was hard and erect - as hard and erect as Karen's. Her young 
haircovered vagina was caught in the dim light of the lights from the patio, 
shining iridescently in a lewd, debauched display of her sex. Through the 
curling, almost satin-looking covering was the rich, round, ruby-colored 
lips of her vagina, a vagina that seemed to be swelling with prurient 
welcome to her boyfriend who stood beside her. 

Karen couldn't keep her marijuana-dilated eyes off the other girl's pubic 
area, and for what seemed like centuries she studied the resilient flesh of 
Lola's inner thighs, the way the lake water slowly rivuleted down her smooth 
skin from the obscene spectacle of her open, moistly writhing slit and the 
darker shadow of her elastic cuntal mouth. It was almost like looking up at 
her mother again, at the way her mother might have been when she had 
approached the bed the night of Karen's conception! The black hair and 
sensitive-looking p u s s y of Lola blended with a picture of Janice 
Cartwright in Karen's mind ... and then Karen shook herself free of the sick 
image and turned away, only to stare at ... at.... 

The fully erected, hardened penis of Ham - the second time in her life she 
had ever seen a man's cock ... and Lola had her other hand around its 
lengthy shaft! She was fondling Hammond Ellison's cock! "Oh, no," Karen 
moaned. "Oh, God, no!" 

She hadn't expected this. She couldn't believe it - or the tremendous 
feelings of lurid, lusting sensuality provoked by the sight of the boy and 
girl fondling one another in front of her, playing with his cock and - and 
now Ham had inserted his fingers into the wet, pulsating opening of Lola's 
quaking vagina, was stroking rhythmically in and out of her as if it was his 
... his penis! They were looking at one another as they did so, pleased with 
their lewd, perverted display! Karen whimpered, her raw, immature teen-age 
body a bundle of nerves, a furnace for the seething, licking flames of her 
own desire. 

Then Arnold, his cock crying out from the torture of his own excitement, 
trying to control his lust so that he didn't tear the jumper off the 
virginal young girl and fuck her then and there, groaned and pulled Karen to 
him, slipping his hand up her leg and locked his lips once more hotly 
against hers. She tried to twist away again, but the pressure of the 
excruciatingly erotic scene and his mouth were too much. His hand snaked 
upward, stroking her ivory smooth thigh, and his mouth engulfed the 
distraught girl's soft red lips, and an uncontrollable tremor surged through 
her as she wilted to the pillage of the boy's hand, and Karen relaxed 
against his heaving body. He held her tightly, his hands hot and tingling on 
the bare skin of her lower buttocks and thighs, and he ground his hard bulge 
into her vaginal area, and she sensed his penis was as rock-like as Ham's, 
bursting to be out of his pants and up between her thighs. 

In a spasm of terror, envisioning where this was inevitably going to lead at 
this rate, Karen s u m m o n e d the last of her strength, and squirmed free 
from his grip. "Stop! Stop, please, before ... before... ." She swallowed 
hard, gasping for breath. "Let's calm down, please. I'm ... I'm not just 
some little slut you can make the first time out." 

"I know you're not, Karen," Arnold breathed in her ear. God, how his balls 
hurt, how his cock longed to slide up into her tender young pussy. His 
panting, ragged breath transmitted his excitement to Karen, and forcing 
herself against her will she sat up--and gasped in total horror at the sight 
that suddenly met her unbelieving eyes. 

Ham was lying on his back now, on the cushions, his hardened pole of a penis 
standing high in the air like some giant tree stripped of its branches. 
Straddling him was his girl friend, Lola, the roundness of her naked 
buttocks poised quiveringly over the burgeoning penis, and her hand was 
still on it, still stroking the shaft up and down, but she was also guiding 
his cock into the moist, open flanges of her cunt. With a slight, soft, 
"Oooohhhhh" she ground her hips downward, sinking until all of Ham's 
excitedly hardened cock was swallowed by her clasping vaginal lips and Karen 
could only see with tormentedly-wide eyes a tiny bit left at the base of the 
boy's loins. Karen wanted to scream, to suddenly jump up and run down the 
beach from this lewdness, this filthy debauch of everything she'd ever 
considered good and pure about bodies and sex and love ... but the 
tranquilizing effects of the sangria and the marijuana and the high-pitched 
arousal caused by her emotions and the actions of the young boy holding her 
wouldn't permit her to. Instead, she sat frozen and watched helplessly as 
Lola began a slow, grinding motion with her buttocks rising in the clear, 
evening air until just the tip of Ham's now wet-slicked penis was left 
inside the warm sheath of her fleshy cuntal tunnel, and then the girl 
dropped heavily back down upon his widespread thighs, impaling the boy's 
shaft again and again with each smooth stroke. 

Karen shuddered violently, for she'd never seen two people engaged in sexual 
intercourse before, not even in the dirty pictures some of the girls at 
school tried to show her, and instead of finding herself revolted as she'd 
imagined she'd be, the little virgin teen-ager pulsed with a deep quivering 
between her own moist, excitedly swollen vaginal lips ... and then Arnie 
pulled her roughly to her again, his hands, his tongue, his whole enveloping 
body enflaming her as the sounds of the lovemaking next to her drifted 
through her brain. She gasped from the wantonness and utterly overwhelming 
craving which was rapidly blotting out any degree of denial to her 
instincts. Arnold's hands traveled teasingly up her leg again, around the 
soft, white flesh of her trembling buttocks and thighs once more, and this 
time she didn't even consider stopping him. Then his fingers snaked into her 
thin, sheer nylon panties, and a thought raced through her befuddled brain 
that he was going to take them off, to touch her between the legs, where no 
one except she had ever touched there before. But her blood boiled too 
heatedly, and his fingers felt so good, so warm, and she undulated her 
thighs with the rising tide of passion roaring through her tender body, as 
if she was another girl responding to him, rather than Karen Cartwright. 

"Oh, Arnold ... Arnie..." she moaned as he reached further inside her 
panties and into the rich, pulsating valley of her teen-age pussy, stroking 
the hair-lined fringes of her vaginal lips until they seemed to spasm from 
delight, seeking yet deeper .... Karen involuntarily raised her hips, 
rotating her sex-starved cunt in helpful deliberation, spreading her legs 
wide until he was able to tease the moist, pink folds of her inner cunt, 
parting the soft young flesh carefully with his fingers until he was able to 
make ecstatic contact with her throbbing clitoris. Her brain screamed with 
emotional agony of sensual desire, and Karen moaned and mewled, wrapping her 
arms around Arnold's neck and trailing sibilant, hot kisses across his face. 
There was an odd sensation of weightlessness as Arnie moved, and then 
Karen's pot-drugged mind caught on to what he wanted, and she lifted her 
hips higher off the cushion and clenched her legs moistly together so that 
he could slide the wetly stained panties down ... down her thighs and her 
legs, and off. They lay limply on the sand, a soft flimsy flag of abject 
surrender .... 

And then he was by her again, continuing his teasing and fondling of her 
soft, defenselessly twitching vagina. She lay back, caught in a delirious 
whirlwind of unwanted passion as he fingered her throbbing cunt better than 
she had ever been able to do to herself. But there was suddenly an alien 
sound, a cursed hissing, the unmistakable noise of a pants zipper being 
lowered. She could feel the boy struggling in his effort to open his pants, 
and in a blast of terrified comprehension, the shattering impact of what was 
going to happen to her seared through to her tortured brain, and she opened 
her eyes. A scream came low in her throat as she stared at this boy she'd 
only known a few short hours, stared at his face and then down at the 
hardened, blunt-headed penis he held high in one hand! 

It was that; his long, hard penis bearing down on her in lewd concentration, 
its angry, blood-red head pressing against the softness of her tender inner 
thighs as he endeavored to break her naked virginity that sent Karen into 
hysterical, frenzied mindlessness. The almost forgotten vestiges of her 
principles, the morality her mother had taught her burst to the fore 
instinctively, even as her pussy angled upward in its own betrayal to her 
prurient demands. 

"No! No. Arnie! Don't!" The girl fought him savagely, trying to lock her 
thighs together and pull away, the fog of alcohol and marijuana dissipating 
from her like a bad dream. 

Arnold pressed on, gritting his teeth in desperation. "It's too late, baby! 
God damn it, you can't stop now! I'm ready to cum! Don't back out baby, 
you'll love it up inside your cunt!" 

To Karen, all this boy was after was to shove his lust-hardened penis into 
her pussy and brutally snap her hymen uncaringly like a twig, and defiantly 
she squeezed her legs as he worked the throbbing head eagerly into her 
cuntal slit, locking her smooth young thighs tightly around his invading 
penis as it endeavored to part her wetly pulsating vaginal passage. His 
every stroke between her clamped thighs sent wild sensations through her as 
the rigid length of his prick rubbed excitingly against the erect bud of her 
clitoris, and as she grasped his thick, pummeling member with her body, he 
continued to pump wildly, and then he emitted a harsh cry: 

"I'm c u m m i n g! Oh, you bitch, I'm ... I'mmmm ... ahhhhhh !" 

Karen felt the boy's prick expand between her trapping inner thighs, and 
helpless gasps of passion poured out of him as a hot, surging fluid 
inundated in thick spurts from the hidden head of his penis. White, sticky 
semen boiled from between her legs, wetting her inner thighs and spilling up 
and out from along her pink, quiver ing cunt and golden fleece of pubic 
hair, flooding her lower abdomen and trickling down the cheeks of her 
smooth, arching buttocks. Then Arnold, groaning over and over as if in some 
anguishing pain, rolled over on the cushions, panting with his subdued 
frenzy. 

Karen looked down at the white-hot puddle of male semen as it covered her 
vagina and pubic mound. She couldn't touch it, couldn't do anything but 
stare at the slowly drying cum which blanketed her innocence, and in 
mortification, she said: "Take me home." 

"Oh, Jesus, Karen, I'm sorry," Arnold said, unable to look at her, just 
lying there with his penis still in full view, though rapidly deflating. "I 
... I don't know what got into me." 

"It's as much my fault as yours, Arnie," Karen said dully. She realized even 
in her hysterical stupor that Arnold Hutter was physically a man, and that 
his sex drive was too great to allow him to stop after a certain point. She 
should have done more to control the situation, and felt soiled and 
humiliated that she hadn't been able to for the first time in her life. She 
couldn't understand it, and at the moment didn't want to. She only wanted to 
go home. "Please, Arnold. Take me back or I'll walk." 

Arnold sighed. He looked over at his friends, but Ham and Lola were so 
engrossed in their totally wanton lovemaking that they were entirely 
oblivious to what was happening with Arnold and Karen - and wouldn't have 
cared if they had been aware. Arnold turned back to his girl, realizing that 
he'd blown his chances for tonight by being too fast, too insistent, just as 
he feared might happen. That made him want this sweet little cherry 
trembling next to him that much more, and in a false display of chagrin and 
remorse, he stood up and zipped his pants up. "Yeah, maybe you're right, 
Karen," he said. "I'll - I'll get a towel to clean up the mess and then 
we'll go. But ... but I want to see you again." 

"I don't know, Arnold. After this=" 

"It just happened, honey. We both got carried away, and that's all." 

Karen thought about it for a few moments, and knew he was telling the truth, 
and she couldn't stop the still-gnawing desire to see him again. "All right, 
Arnold. All right, we'll see about tomorrow." She avoided looking at him or 
the writhing couple so close, their groans and grunts and heaving of breath 
and bodies, once so exciting, revolting to her now. "But take me home!" 

"Sure, honey," the boy said, grinning. There'd be another time, another 
chance ... . "Sure, anything you say, Karen." 

Chapter 4 

Harlow Bixbee Algernon Cartwright considered himself as a pillar of the 
local community, a man who was forcefully leading the direction of his 
neighborhood's economic and political future, and whose respectability was 
unimpeachable and opinions avidly sought by other responsible figures both 
in the area and downtown. His friends considered him a pompous ass. 

He was a short, chunky man the color of library paste, with course 
greying-black hair parted in the middle of his rather pointed head and 
slicked back with a patent leather shine, and prominent age-lines around his 
watery, wet-marble small eyes and sagging flesh of his chins. He was only 
eighteen months older than his wife, Janice, yet was one of those kind who 
are almost senile when they're born; ancient in his ways, his beliefs, his 
prejudices and hatreds - a tradition to him was something one kept on doing 
for no other reason than because it was traditional, and some of the men who 
had worked closer with him than others swore that Harlow Cartwright had 
never had an original idea in his life, hauling out platitudes and proverbs 
from a tattered bag of ancestral cliches to justify whatever he did or 
thought. Nobody could recall when he'd ever been trim and youthful, for his 
school mates still remembered him in his dark, formal clothes and 
steelrimmed spectacles and paunch-bellied dignity; as a man he had merely 
become more conservative in his dress, sticking to bow-ties around 
too-small, too-starched high c o l l a r s, and pleated pants and waistcoats 
to his gabardine suits, even at the height of the summer. 

He belonged to and supported every Anti-league around, for he seemed to 
resent the fact that since he wasn't having any fun out of living, nobody 
else should either. In the name of Civil Rights, he'd personally emptied the 
local libraries of Little Black Sambo and Huckleberry Finn; and in the cause 
of decency, he'd stopped the bookstores and movie houses from selling or 
showing anything depicting life as it is or people as they are or other 
important, vital subjects which would have to do with sex, the wicked human 
body, all other basic interpersonal rela tionships. 

People other than his friends not only called Harlow Bixbee Algernon 
Cartwright a pompous ass, but added the words "conceited, bigoted prig" as 
well, when they were feeling sociable about him. His parents, a gentle, 
elderly couple living close by, couldn't understand where he'd gotten his 
attitudes from, for both Bixbee and Clara Cartwright (her maiden name was 
Algernon) were the type who might not approve of how another person lived, 
but defended the right to live that way so long as it wasn't harmful to 
others; Harlow's meddling, as they called it, had not been a product of 
their teachings. 

They would have been shocked to learn that because Harlow's first puppy-love 
affair in grade school had ended with the girl laughing at him after he'd 
taken his pants down at her insistance, Harlow had never trusted another 
women beside his mother. Only his mother had ever loved him, it had seemed 
to him, had ever accepted his old-man ways and unyouthful looks; he had 
reverted subconsciously to the Oedipus complex, and without realizing it 
began to consider all females other than her dangerous and potentially 
subversive. He had married Janice because he had reached an age where it was 
the thing to do and she was the only one inexperienced and withdrawn from 
the sinful wiles of womankind to have him - -she treated him, in other 
words, like his mother had. 

Sex with his wife had been unconsciously to him like having sex with his 
mother, and since that ruined the pure relationship, sex became a 
punishment, both to Janice because she was a wicked woman, and to him 
because he was mentally making love to his mother. Freud recorded almost a 
volume's worth of case histories about the unadjustment of men when they 
didn't outgrow the Oedipal complex; Harlow Cartwright was not unique either 
in his derangement or his actions. 

Punishment delivered to himself and his wife, he had stopped the sex and 
devoted his time to other things like business and the stamping out of 
normal, healthy objectives by mature people who just wanted to be left 
alone. His family became no more than a possession, a badge of his 
solidarity and a rational for "cleaning up" his community, and never 
received his love, affection, or interest - they were possessions to be used 
for his own warped drives, but like most embittered persons, Harlow 
Cartwright was jealously protective about Janice and Karen. Egotistically 
immature, he couldn't stand others having what he didn't or others taking 
what he only wanted as decoration. He'd rather smash his property than hand 
it over to someone who would genuinely cherish it, and it was this sad, 
sordid psychosis which made him buy a shotgun and shells of heavy buckshot, 
and set the stage for murder. 

Harlow had long convinced himself that his wife was having an affair and 
often dreamed of catching her and her lover in the act. Of course he didn't 
want to warn her, so his veiled accusations had been in snide, underhanded 
comments which half the time went over her head, and sneaky shadowings and 
investigations of her actions which often puzzled her but never proved 
anything. When at last Janice did succumb to the repressed longings of her 
natural instincts and started seeing Trendell, she had been living around 
Harlow's odd behavior long enough to cover her tracks automatically. 

She had made only one mistake, but it was the mistake Harlow had been 
waiting for for nearly two decades; she had left the sales slip of the dress 
Trendell had bought for her in her handbag, in case she had to return it for 
alterations, which was in another department and which required proof of 
purchase before doing any altering. Harlow had copied the number of the 
slip, gone to the credit department of the store, and unknown to his wife, 
had said there was some mistake, he didn't remember this item. The credit 
department had pulled their copy, apologized for having somehow put a 
purchase by Jackson Trendell on his account, and Harlow, gloating with 
vengeful satisfaction, had the name of Janice's lover. Trendell was in the 
phone book, and after waiting one night to make sure Janice was in his 
apartment. Harlow had slunk back to his office, savoring the agonizing 
relish of being a righteously indignant cuckold. 

His wife was as he'd often suspected: a libertine, a harlot and adulteress, 
and not at all like his saintly mother. Her lover was a seducer and 
fornicator, and Harlow had every traditional right to strike back in defense 
of his family honor. 

They had to pay. 

Murder? Harlow Cartwright had laughed scornfully at the label, for what he 
had in mind was extermination, the removing of two more insideous destroyers 
of the American Virtues who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as he and 
other Good People did. But, afterall, this was an Age of Decay, Harlow had 
told himself; he had to plan well so as to not jeopardize his business and 
reputation, to become a target for ridicule and scorn and perhaps prison by 
those who held the strings of authority. He couldn't confront Janice and her 
lover in his apartment, not with so many witnesses around in other 
apartments and the street ... he'd have to lure them away, to someplace 
which was unknown and untraceable. And so he had surreptitiously rented the 
cabin at Lake Stephens, figuring that since he couldn't go there with his 
wife, his wife would arrange things so Jackson T r e n d e l l would ... and 
when they were there, animalistically coupling in lewd abandonment of the 
holy marital sacraments, he'd wreak his rightful vengeance. 

He had been taken aback a bit when Janice had persuaded their daughter to 
come along, but after a moment's contemplation, he'd concluded that it was a 
cover, a cleverly constructed ruse by which Janice hoped to convince him 
that she was innocent of adultery; after all, with fifteen-year-old Karen 
along, certainly she couldn't be seeing another man. But Harlow had seen 
through the veil, knowing it only meant Trendell would be in a local motel 
or another rented cabin, and when Karen was conveniently away, Janice would 
revert to her whorish self and join her lover in the sybaritic worship of 
carnal pleasures. The only difference to his calculations was that Karen 
would have to be told that Janice ran off with Trendell, that he, Harlow, 
had heard rumors about them but didn't believe his wife and her mother 
capable of such things, but with Karen left up at the Lake all alone... 

All alone, all right; when Karen returned to the cabin, he'd have already 
buried the bodies and returned to the city to wait for the hysterical call 
his daughter would surely make when she realized her mother was gone ... 
gone to the perdition she so richly deserved. 

Shotgun and shovel in the trunk of his Buick, Harlow Cartwright set off for 
Lake Stephens as the evening began to settle over the city buildings like a 
grey sheet being pulled over large, blocky furniture. He detoured to the 
other side of the city to make sure that Jackson Trendell wasn't home, and 
as he'd have bet - if he had been a gambling man - Trendell's bang-fend ered 
Plymouth was gone from the apartment house garage. Eagerly, Cartwright 
headed toward the four-lane highway which would take him upstate, upstate 
and to the vacation cabin. He glanced at his watch: by midnight he should be 
there, and the itching urgency he felt made him put his foot to the floor. 
The Buick responded, surging along over the speed limit, something Harlow 
had never done before... 

* * * 

Jackson Trendell had spent the same day sitting in a bar, drinking beer and 
wishing that he wasn't. What a life, forced to work at a job he detested and 
wasn't any good at, and unable to be with and openly love the woman he 
cherished. If he only had Janice, he could start fresh, have a reason and 
purpose for striving, but as it was, well... 

Trendell had been raised in the farming country of Southern Illinois where 
his widowed father raised horses; his heritage and yearnings sprung from the 
soil, from the roots of Nature, and he didn't feel happy when he looked at 
his roughhewn hands and didn't see dirt under the nails. His father was dead 
now, and the ranch long gone, but Jackson Trendell would still have been out 
there, pitching and digging and tending, if it hadn't been for Samantha. 
Samantha Russ, daughter of a wheat grower, the perkiest, brightest, 
flashing-eyed female hell-cat in ten states, and Trendell had fallen ass 
over stirrup for her, just like all the rest of the boys. The difference had 
been that Jackson Trendell had the misfortune of marrying her, unlike the 
others, and his slide downhill had commenced from the moment he slipped the 
gold band on her finger. Samantha had wanted his virility, the hours-on-end 
fucking which Jackson had gladly given her; she knew every trick in the book 
of sex, and a few more never recorded, and it seemed to him that their 
marriage had been one never-ending spewing of his cum up inside her 
demanding and ever working little pussy. 

Samantha had also wanted money, lots of it, and city things and city ways, 
and it had taken Jackson almost three years to discover she was so hungry 
for them that she was fucking every man who passed through their back-woods 
town of Enterprise who had the balls to tell her about Chicago or New York 
or LA. He'd loved her so much that when he'd finally woken up to her 
promiscuity, he'd packed their bags and dragged her to the city lights, 
setting out to be that slicker-man she desired. But he hadn't been cut out 
for suit wearing and sidewalks, and after another year Samantha had left him 
flat. 

He'd found her once, and after that never tried again. She was working out 
of an expensive hotel suite, and she laughed at him when he pleaded with her 
to come back to him, sneering at him as she related how she made a hundred 
dollars a night lying on her back, how she was saving her money and in 
another couple of years would be able to spit in the eye of every male in 
the world by going into the wholesale prostitution business, managing a 
string of houses for her bosses. She'd talked big and ruthless, and he saw 
that her insides were as hard and brittle as the make-up which caked her 
cheeks. And he'd seen the needle marks on the insides of her white, slim 
thighs, and knew she'd never make it, that her bosses had her going to their 
tune, and the tune would eventually become a funeral dirge. 

Sickened, he'd left the city and gone back to the country life he knew and 
loved, but it hadn't worked. The long, lone hours on different ranches had 
made him think about her, for it had been in just such a kind of life that 
he'd been happy with her - and the good memories linger on in a man's soul 
after the bad ones have perished. Eventually he'd worked his way to this 
city, where in his misery he could retain his sanity by reliving the 
wretchedness of his later days with Samantha. And he knew that he would 
never be able to return to ranching until Samantha was out of his system. 

He'd tried d r i n k i n g, but that had only drowned his sorrow on a 
temporary basis, and Jackson was too healthy inside to ever get used to the 
idea of using a crutch, shaped like a bottle or otherwise. He'd thrown 
himself into different kinds of work, but his employment record was of such 
a nature that the only work he could find was the type which didn't pay 
unless he produced: selling on straight commission. Magazines, used cars, 
funeral plots - he'd tackled them all, and after a few months they all 
appalled him so much that he would end up in bars, unable to force himself 
to knock on one more door and paste on one more false smile. This latest, 
selling insurance for Bridgeport Mutual and Life, was following the same 
road, and it was only a race to see if he quit or he was fired first. 

Jackson Trendell was still a man, however, down at the heels though he might 
be. Women still loved him, and he'd taken his share to bed in hopes that 
this one, or the one after this one, would be the woman to replace Samantha. 
He never came close .. . until he walked into the dress department and Mrs. 
Harlow Cartwright waited on him. Janice - just his damn-fool luck that he'd 
fall in love again with a married woman, and the only thing which made the 
sordidness and frustration worth-while was the unalterable fact that Janice 
loved him just as passionately. Even Samantha hadn't been as eager for his 
body, his long, hard penis - and while he was sorry that Janice wouldn't do 
all the things that his ex-wife would, he found a satisfying relationship 
with her in every other respect, and that was a hell of a lot more important 
to him than variations between the sheets. He had hopes of melting her 
shyness and resistance, and she had become wilder as time passed. Why just 
last week - 

No good torturing himself with thinking about last week and the way she'd 
made love with him; it only caused his eager cock to swell up as he sat on 
the stool and bulge his pants to the point he didn't dare walk to the men's 
room. If only she wasn't married! And to what? A bloated little snit, a 
stuffed-shirt with a reputation for hypocracy and contemptuousness, a 
supersilious bastard who had forced the warm blooded young woman to live an 
un-natural life of celibacy. Jackson alternated from clenching his beer 
glass as his loins ached with the pent-up desires he had for Janice, and 
drinking the beer in an effort to put out the flames of passion which 
stirred every time he so much as thought her name. 

He'd wait. Somehow, he vowed as more drunken he became, that Janice was a 
good woman unlike that bitch Samantha, that Janice was worth waiting for; 
the fact that she wouldn't leave her husband until her daughter was grown 
and out of the nest proved to him just how inherently decent she was and how 
she disapproved of her uncontrollable love for him. He'd wait, and then when 
he finally had her for good, he could return to the life he loved and be the 
man he had so long rejected. And he'd fill the time until then with stolen 
hours and snatched opportunities to be with her 

He banged the glass down, causing the bartender to turn around with a frown, 
interrupting his watching of the evening TV news. After a day of drinking, 
Jackson didn't care about the bartender, only about the lewd, throbbing pain 
in his cock and swollen testicles, about his avid lust for the pretty, 
slim-waisted, taut-breasted, raven-haired woman he loved, and where was she? 
She wasn't there with him where she belonged, she was up in the mountains, 
at some damned cabin retreat at Lake Stephens, where for two weeks she'd 
bask in the sun and swim in the lake with her daughter. Her daughterand then 
with a gleam in his eye, Jackson thought: with her daughter but not her 
husband! Janice had told him not to come there when he'd suggested it, to 
stay away because it wasn't right, not with the daughter there, too, but 
shit! How much can a man take? He had to have her and to hell with the 
consequences; once she saw him, once she felt his mouth on hers and his 
hands on her hard-nippled breasts and his already steel rod of a cock in her 
sweet, tenderly pulsating, cunt, she'd want him to stay: yeah, he'd go there 
and surprise her, daughter or no daughter, because she was his, Goddamnit, 
his no matter what her frigging marriage certificate said. 

He had a couple of more beers as he thought over his audacious plan to drive 
up to see her, and by the time they were added to the vast amount of alcohol 
he'd consumed over the past eight hours, he was ready to walk into her own 
home itself and take on her husband. Unstead ily he got off the stool, not 
caring about the prominant bulge of his erection or the slight seepage of 
seminal fluid which had made a large, wet ring on the front of his trousers. 
He flipped some bills and change noisily on the polished counter, staggered 
into the toilet to relieve his bladder, and then walked out into the same 
darkening shadows which Harlow Cartwright was seeing on the way to 
Trendell's apartment. Jackson considered going to his apartment, then said 
to hell with that, he wanted to get to Janice as soon as he could; and it 
was a wise decision on his part to not go to his apartment, or he would have 
run into Harlow Cartwright, their timing being as close as it was. 

With that earnest, somber expression of a drunk trying to appear sober, 
Jackson slowly walked to his Plymouth. He dropped the keys once, but then 
started an engine, and with an impatient jerk of the wheel, started on his 
way to Lake Stephens. Lake Stephens, Janice Cartwright, and destiny. 

Chapter 5 

Ellery Quinn, for all his aching desire to delve into the hot, tingling, 
moist cunt of Mrs. Janice Cartwright, knew that to suddenly hit her with his 
threats, his demands and evil proposals, could very well sour an otherwise 
wonderful set-up. He had learned the secret of timing, of how to mix honey 
with vinegar so as to lead an unwilling little bed partner not only into 
bed, but into becoming a seething, hungrily demanding partner as well. He 
was having a difficult time controlling his cock from again leaping into 
full erection just at the sight of the lovely fully clothed young wife, for 
she was as delicate as heather mist to him, the way she half-lidded her eyes 
and sensually cast them downwards, and he longed to tear his bathing trunks 
off and thrust his hard, throbbing penis into the narrow, teasing slit of 
her warm, moist pussy that he'd seen and photographed that afternoon. But he 
knew that this was not the moment, that before the physical conquest of her 
resilient flesh had to come a stage of mental submission, a lessening of the 
barriers one stranger automatically erects toward another, and when that 
spirit of softness was reached ... a relaxing that was almost there. 

"I'm so glad you asked me to stay," he purred over the table, smiling at 
Janice Cartwright. "It's so much better than sitting around all alone, isn't 
it?" 

"Yes," Janice replied. "Yes, it certainly is." She raised her drink and 
sipped from it. Her mind was still confused, still a whirling morass of 
conflicting emotions. It was better, she had to admit honestly to herself. 
It hadn't been good for her to sit here brooding by herself, becoming more 
depressed as if the cabin was a tomb, vacant as if filled with the dead. 
Yes, company was better, but that hadn't been her intention when she'd 
opened the door to him. 

How had it happened? There she had been, slightly afraid of this Mr. Quinn 
as he had stood there, a little intimidated by a neighbor who was so 
handsome, so masculine, so ... well, she hadn't been able to put her finger 
on it, other than he had seemed to be overwhelmingly magnetic. In that 
respect, he reminded her of Jackson, of her lover's forceful personality and 
pervasive muskiness, and the same sort of tingling of animal attraction had 
hit her in the pit of the stomach when she'd met Mr. Quinn. Even now, as 
they drank and talked in a civilized, adult, and very respectable manner, 
she found herself looking at him with a detached interest, not as a 
potential sex mate, but just as a very good-looking man. 

His presence bothered her in some inexplicable way, in an ethereal, uneasy 
fashion which she couldn't put her finger on, but which had been unsettling 
to her from the very first, from the moment she had stepped aside to allow 
him to enter the cabin, as he'd requested. She knew that his being here with 
her was perfectly all right, that in this day and age a lone woman is not 
considered bad if she enjoys the company of a nice man, as it might have 
been in her mother's day. She knew that nothing would happen, nothing could 
happen; she had been on her guard and would continue to be, and Mr. Quinn 
had been the very soul of gentlemanly discretion. But still there was the 
pervading air of something wrong, something deliciously wrong as if she was 
skirting danger and relishing her brush with fate. She tried to think back 
to what had caused it, but as she recalled from the time he'd introduced 
himself to the present, she couldn't remember the conversation, much less 
what was behind her apprehensions. 

She'd had a hard time meeting his frankly brazen gaze, she remembered that 
clear enough, but how had the conversation evolved from Mr. Quinn being out 
of sugar for a special drink he was preparing to inviting him to stay 
awhile? There had been the talking in the kitchen alcove and then he'd mixed 
her a sample of his drink, which had been delicious and luckily used gin as 
its base - but who had first suggested that sampling? Had she? It was all 
hazy .... And was she the one who had felt it so sad that he, too, was all 
alone that evening and had thought up the idea of mixing a pitcher of his 
specialty? It must have been, for Mr. Quinn certainly wasn't the type to 
invite himself. It was so unclear in her mind, leaving only the ambivalent 
feelings that it was a natural, innocently gracious gesture to have him 
stay, and that in spite of his manner, she couldn't escape the weird 
impression that he was mentally undressing her all the time, and she was all 
but naked as she sat there across from him. 

Quinn had been with Janice for almost an hour and a half, and she'd found 
the time flying, and as she drained the drink in her hand, she shrugged off 
her apprehensions. He was witty and could converse artfully on a dozen 
different subjects, and even his only slightly naughty risqu jokes hadn't 
been offending, but set her laughing delightedly. And as she set her glass 
down she decided to relax and stop being such an old wet blanket, that the 
sensations in the depths of her belly were the result of one too many 
glasses of his excellent gin drink, and that what the hell, she was having a 
far better time in the company of this Mr. Quinn than if she was alone. 

And the carnal, lust-raging Ellery Quinn caught the almost imperceptible 
relaxing of Janice Cartwright's natural defenses, and gloated with a satyr's 
evil satisfaction. This was what he'd been waiting for, had with the 
consummate skill of a devilish master of seduction steered the conversation 
artfully from the innocuous excuse of being out of sugar, to finding out 
what kind of liquor she had available, and then miraculously having a 
"special" using it as a base - which in actuality was a quick selection of 
one of the numerous recipes that his years had awarded him then to being 
invited to stay, and finally a slow and inexorable channeling to other, more 
intimate talk. He was experienced in the sensing of the most subtle of 
moods, knowing when to retreat or advance, just as now he stifled a smirk 
having sensed this passionate young woman's release of her qualms. 

"I could use another refill, Janice," Quinn said, glancing at the pretty 
Mrs. Cartwright and picking up the nearly empty pitcher. "How about you, 
hmmm?" 

"No, no thank you, Mr. Quinn. I better not." 

"Ellery, please. After all, we are neighbors." 

"El-Ellery. But please, no more right now." 

Janice's head was woozy from the unaccustomed heavy amount of alcohol she'd 
had over the past few hours, both from her own hand and the specials of the 
man across from her. On an empty stomach, the gin had gone straight to her 
head, and she realized belatedly that she was nearly drunk, that much 
besides not being able to remember the conversations with Mr. Quinn - Ellery 
- -she couldn't even recall the number of drinks she'd consumed. Her empty 
glass was on the coffee table, empty from five, six, perhaps seven 
"specials." Worse, she didn't really care, but she knew that she had to 
stop. But Ellery was already pouring some in her glass - after she'd 
specifically asked him not to! 

"Please, Mr. - Ellery, I told you I didn't want any more to drink. I'm ... 
that is, I think I've had enough before I get something to eat." 

Quinn chuckled, appraising the lusciously figured wife and mother, and he 
was renewed with a burgeoning desire for the raven-haired beauty with her 
damnably provocative innocent appeal. Quinn was nearly unable to sit back in 
his chair as his cock stiffened into a throbbing, painful erection again and 
bulged his pants. 

"Janice," the lecherous rou said, his face now opening into a lewd, 
salacious grin of desire, "Janice, I have to admit that there was another 
reason I'm glad you asked me to stay." 

A clammy iciness crawled up the lovely wife's slender backbone, as if in his 
tone and sudden leer she was able to perceive what was in store for her. Her 
throat was suddenly dry, and the gin pounded in her temples parasitically, 
but somehow she managed to stammer: "Wh-what, Mr. Quinn? I don't 
understand." 

"No, I'm sure you don't," he mused darkly. "But you will, Janice, you will. 
And do call me Ellery." He arched his loins and from the inside of his 
bathing suit he produced a flat envelope; he'd carried it there the whole 
time he'd been with Janice, both because he wanted to be sure she didn't ask 
premature questions about it if she'd seen it before he was ready, and 
because even the close proximity of the pictures the envelope carried 
excited him, made him dwell on the salacious finger-fucking scene he'd so 
thoroughly photographed that afternoon. He placed them on the coffee table, 
beside the glass. 

"Here," he urged. "Open the envelope and see for yourself." 

Trembling with anxiety, Janice slowly leaned forward and picked up the 
envelope as he'd ordered, and after one chilling look at the obscenely 
glittering eyes of Quinn, she'd hurriedly ripped open the flap and removed 
the pictures. "Oh my God!" she croaked, sucking in her breath as blood 
rushed from her face and leaving it deathly pale. In horror she shuffled 
through them, through the top ones in which she was standing, frontally 
naked to the camera, her hands on her hips and all of her breasts and pubic 
mound displayed, and not only her, but her daughter as well, almost lewdly 
sprawled on the towel by her feet, her legs wide, and her young, tender, 
pink-lipped vagina nakedly apparent in close detail. The pictures didn't 
seem to end but go on and on ... her and Karen lying, sitting, rubbing oil 
on one another. Even before she got to the bottom half, she had the horrid 
revulsion gorge her throat that she knew what was coming ... what the 
pictures surely must show. And to her utter and total horror she was right. 

"Isn't this a fine one of you, Janice?" Quinn chortled obscenely as he 
pointed out the first of her alone, alone and spread-eagled on the porch, 
fingering herself. Her hands were on her breast, squeezing the hard, round 
globe, and tangled in the p u b i c hair of her own moist, splayed-wide 
vagina. Every sinew of her beautiful, quivering body had been caught by the 
fine eye of the Poloroid, catching every detail of her exquisite, 
self-caused torture as she strained for physical fulfillment, and her mouth 
was open and her face contorted with crazed, raw lust. 

"Or isn't this a jewel?" Quinn tortured her with his tormenting words, 
indicating another of the lewd photographs, describing in minute detail 
Janice's actions. His breath was heavier, for the photos and the humiliation 
he was inflicting upon the shocked, mortified young wife made him desire her 
even more. "I was there all the time, you see, Janice," he cruelly added. 
"There's a hole in the screening which I know about. I know - -but you 
didn't. I think this one is the best, don't you? The one where you were 
teasing that pretty little anus of yours while the rest of your fingers were 
digging in your cunt so frantically." 

Janice Cartwright's head reeled from the abject humiliation of sitting 
before this stranger while his now beady eyes absorbed the views of her 
self-seeking gratification, at the way she was jolted with tearful anguish 
by each new posture of her passions and shuddering under the degrading 
monologue he uttered, using the most obscene words to d e s c r i b e what 
he'd watched and photographed in lurid, full-color precision. She wanted to 
vomit, hit and slash and tear herself away from the reality of her 
situation, and in a hysterical act of defiance, she ripped the photos in 
half, then half again, until there wasn't anything left of them except a 
pile of tiny, flesh-tinted squares. 

Janice looked up, trying to stop the quaver in her voice, the unreasoning 
desire to scream at this wretched, sick, Mr. Quinn. "Get out," she gasped, 
choking. "Get out of this cabin and take your dirty, pornographic filth with 
you! Get out, you hear?" 

"Don't shout, Janice," Quinn said calmly, sitting back and crossing his 
legs. "I hear you, and I'll go. That is, if you really want me to." 

"I do! I do!" The nearly mindless housewife blurted. 

"But if I do," Quinn said, suddenly turning grim and threatening, "Your 
husband will re ceive a set of you playing with that tender little pussy of 
yours. That's right, Janice; I have others. Many others. Those you have are 
only a sampling of them, and not even the best. And let me see, what about 
the ones of you and your daughter nakedly fondling each other. 

"No! Not Karen! You wouldn't involve an innocent child - ?" 

"Oh, yes I would. And I will. I'll have enough prints of these pictures made 
to blanket every bar and book store from Seattle to Miami. I will make sure 
that some of the sets are sent to your husband's friends. Believe me - I 
will." He grinned maliciously again, bursting with the gloating satisfaction 
of grinding this proud woman down to being his slave. "This is, if you want 
me to leave. Think about it, and maybe you'll ask me to stay." 

A light tremor of goose-flesh rippled over Janice as she stared at Quinn's 
eyes and clearly saw there was no denying the lust-filled gleam in them or 
the truth of his threats. She swallowed tightly, her throat and lungs 
constricted with effort. 

"Do you want me to stay?" Quinn leered expectantly. 

"Y-yes." 

"Ask me, Janice. Ask me nicely," Quinn commanded savagely. 

"PI-please stay, Ellery. I want you to stay very much." 

Quinn's smile broadened. "Well now, that's better." He picked up her glass 
and offered it to her. "Better drink it, Janice. Make it easier on you." 

She stared at him for a long moment, dread coming alive in her. She took the 
drink and lifted it to her lips nervously, taking a small sip and then the 
rest of the glass, feeling it burn her mouth, her throat, all the way to the 
pit of her nervously throbbing stomach. My God, she couldn't believe that 
she was sitting here, ready to bargain with her body for her only child's 
happiness ... . She was trapped and she would have to submit to this crude 
man's demands, to get whatever he wanted over with quickly and get those 
pictures of her innocently touching her daughter and her later sinful 
disgrace. If Harlow ever got hold of such p h o t o s, Janice wouldn't know 
what he'd do, considering his fierce pride of ownership. And if Jackson 
should ever learn of this, he would be humiliated beyond belief, and she 
would lose his love forever. How could she deny, explain, justify the bitter 
calamity of herself and poor, sweet Karen in every dirty old man's trembling 
hands from coast to coast? She couldn't, and if she didn't submit to Ellery 
Quinn for her own safety, she'd have to for her daughter's well-being and 
future. Perhaps, afterwards, she could begin to forget and live a normal 
life again. 

"Now, this film and my time are expensive, Janice," Quinn sneered 
rapaciously from his chair. "If you want the pictures back, as I'm sure you 
do for obvious reasons, we'll have to come up with some way of repaying my 
expenses and perhaps a little extra for the value of my silence." 

"Blackmail!" Janice cried out in horror. "How much? I'll pay somehow ... 
name the amount, name it ... ." the raven-haired wife mewled helplessly. 

"I don't want money," Quinn spat. "No, I think there's other ways. Better 
ways, Janice, if you see what I mean." 

The terrified, hapless Mrs. Cartwright looked over at Ellery Quinn, 
endevouring to portray an outward calm by a sheer force of will, while deep 
inside her body was the whirlpool of knots and convulsions. She knew exactly 
what he had in mind now, knew that he meant to force her to submit her body 
to him and work off the debt of those photos, and the only question was 
regarding exactly what perversion, what foul act of degrading, whorish sex 
was to happen to her should she be agreeable. Still, she sought to play 
naive. 

"Wh-what do you have in mind?" Janice asked hesitantly. 

"You're a smart woman, Janice," Quinn chuckled and stood up, and she saw now 
the extent of his excitement, his lecherous desire for her now that victory 
was at hand. The bulge of his hard penis stretched the tight nylon fabric of 
his bathing suit almost to the breaking point, and a dark, widening stain of 
his seminal emissions was plainly evident on the front, right where the 
throbbing head of his cock pressed against the fabric. "I want to fuck you, 
fuck the living daylights out of you starting right now." 

"I ... see," she flinched at the lewd words, but forced herself to continue. 
"And if I ... I let you, what then?" 

"Why, tomorrow you get all the pictures. No fuss, no muss, and nobody will 
be the wiser." 

Janice felt her lips twist into a harsh, cynical smile as the galling 
acidity of her choice poisoned her mouth. The ghastly truth of submitting to 
this handsome but beastial man in exchange for the avoidance of a worse fate 
seemed inconceivable to her, but it was a fact, and she knew that she was 
going to do just that. She felt nauseous as she imagined what was going to 
take place, the sensation of Ellery Quinn's obviously huge cock buried in 
her defenseless pussy, and momentarily the threat of vomiting returned. 

Quinn read the symptoms and forced another glass of gin into her trembling 
hands. "Here, Mrs. Cartwright, drink it. Drink all of it." 

She felt the liquor sear her throat as it spilled into her stomach with a 
warming sensation that slowly began to spread through her chilled blood. The 
big man was sitting beside her now, and had his arm around her; she could 
smell the heavy scent of his male excitement and then his hand tightened, 
his fingers toying with the tender flesh of one breast beneath the quilted 
material of her culottes. 

"You ... you better give me another drink," she heard herself say, and then 
the gin once more glowed in her belly. Maybe if she drank enough it would be 
endurable ... . Dear God! All this to make up for her own miserable mistake, 
and the future of her only daughter! 

"Feeling better, Janice?" Quinn smiled lecherously, removing the glass from 
her hand and drawing her to him. The tormented young mother found courage 
from the burning liquor in her body and said, "Oh no, oh Lord, no, not here, 
please. Don't make me do it here, because my daughter might come home and 
see us." 

Ellery Quinn, aware that since the daughter was out with that Arnold Hutter, 
the chances of her appearing before morning were damned slim, didn't tell 
the distraught lovely woman that her daughter was probably being fucked half 
senseless right at that moment. Instead he grinned, removed his pawing hand, 
and pulled her upright out of the chair as he stood. He looked at the 
totally capitulating Janice and snickered, "Fair enough. We'll fuck in your 
bedroom." 

Still in a half-comotose shock of disbelief, Janice allowed Quinn to take 
her by the hand and guide her to the small bedroom, still utterly at his 
mercy with his base and brutally obscene demands. How could this have 
happened? How could she have become the victim of such ugly perversion? 

"Take that thing off you're wearing," Quinn commanded crudely. "Strip down 
to your bare ass, the same way you were this afternoon, you hear?" And he 
laughed raucously. 

Her mind tried to formulate thoughts but she struggled against them, wanting 
only blankness, only a total void of what was being done to her and by her. 
Obediently she zipped down the culottes and slid out of her all-enveloping 
wrap, then unhooked the meager bra she wore, threw it on top of her 
culottes, and after a hesitant, shuddering second of revulsion, sent her 
thin, white lace panties on the same pile. She lay down on the strange, cold 
bed and saw Quinn had removed his robe and trunks, and she gasped 
involuntarily as she studied the size of him, the wealth of hair, and his 
great, thick cock which stood out from his flat, muscled abdomen like a huge 
ram-rod, his weighty testicles swaying between his inner thighs as he 
lightly stroked his penile shaft back and forth. 

Butterflies filled her stomach as she tried to hate herself, but as he moved 
toward her on the bed, unwanted tongues of prurient desire began to tickle 
her loins and moisten the mouth of her vaginal tunnel. Oh God, oh God, what 
has she become? First her inability to stop fingering herself, and now this 
... she is sick, sick and no better than this terrible man about to rape 
her, she thought through the thick taste of the gin. "Where's the gin?" she 
cried out suddenly. "Please, please give me another drink!" 

Quinn laughed and walked into the living room, his stiff cock swaying in 
front of him as if pointing the way. He returned with a full glass of his 
"special," which he handed to her saying: "That's all there is, Janice. 
Sorry, but you've just about drunk a full bottle of gin." She swallowed the 
glassful thirstily, thinking that one bottle hadn't been enough, not now, 
not considering ... . Quinn was on the bed now, stroking her naked flesh, 
sliding his hands provocatively over the awakening mounds of her breasts and 
down over her belly to the soft, fleshy folds of her cunt. He wanted her 
excited as he was, for then his mastery and control over her would be 
complete. And he knew just how to do it, to draw the unwanted passions for 
sex from the very depths of her soul, and he continued to caress her flesh, 
her moist, pink vagina, her tender and quivering little clitoris as she 
unconsciously spread her legs to his large hands until her skin seemed to 
her to be a hot sheet of molten steel. 

Her eyes clenched shut, her mind battling the reality of who was teasing his 
hands up between her thighs and what was happening, she could only sink 
deeper into the seething pit of sensitivity. Her body ached to be touched 
gently, the way Jackson did so well, the way the hands on her now were doing 
... oh yes, so gentle ... gentle ... that way ... her brain swam! She'd 
drunk too much! Good! Good! She kept thinking of Jackson in her boiling 
fever, Jackson whom she loved, and once more it was his fingertips playing 
over her defenseless skin. "Aaahhh, yes, darling," she crooned deleriously. 
"Ahhhh, Jackson, Jackson, darling ... ." She knew it wasn't her lover; she 
wasn't that drunk, but if she could imagine it was him, perhaps she could 
hold onto her sanity. "Jackson... ." 

"It's Ellery, Janice," Quinn exclaimed, his greedy eyes feasting on her 
lewdly squirming nakedness. He edged around, pushing her milkywhite thighs 
wider apart, and then he slithered between them, his face a panting few 
inches from the hair-covered slit of her pulsating vagina. His mouth watered 
as he gaped at the sensual rotation of the deliciously narrow opening of 
pink flesh, and his hot, moist lips lowered to her soft mound at the base of 
her belly and he planted tingling, soft kisses on the still snug apperture, 
his tongue lashing teasingly at her quivering pussy. 

"Aggggggggh !" Janice deleriously cried out, jerking insanely. "Jackson! 
Jackson! Oh God ... you've never done this to me before!" 

Her own hands moved uncontrollably down over her throbbing breasts and along 
her heaving stomach to rest at her hips, her fingers stroking softly for a 
moment at the flexing hollows of her inner thighs. Then, unable to stop her 
mounting spiral of passion, the black-haired wife moved her hands again and 
spread. the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her moist cuntal fur row apart, 
allowing the stranger complete access to her wet, quivering clitoris. She 
tossed her head from side to side as his searing wet lips sucked and drew 
the warm, soft folds into the hot cavern of his mouth, while his tongue 
continued its maddening licking against the straining bud of her pink 
clitoris. She groaned unashamedly, and her hips ground hungrily around on 
the cabin bed, soft mewling animal sounds occasionally escaping as in her 
passion, she clenched her teeth together. 

The big, muscular Quinn worked demonically, feeling her dark moistened pubic 
hair brush tantalizingly against his cheeks. Christ, he'd never seen 
anything like this woman! The way she was squirming under his tongue, and 
from what she said, this was her first time at being sucked ... she really 
loved it, and her groans were driving him wild! He worked his tongue faster 
up and down her steaming hot cunt, and he ached for the moment when the 
proud young wife would beg for his cock to fuck her, beg for it as she most 
certainly must at this rate, and the time wasn't far off. 

Her hands tangled in his hair, forcing his face closer to the tight little 
hole of her squirming, pink-edged hole. She guided his mouth so that it 
covered the clasping viscous opening, and he thrust his tongue deep within 
it, raising a low gutteral moan from Janice whose soft, warm thighs closed 
convulsively around either side of his head, and the walls of her invaded 
vagina opened and closed spasmodically, attempting to suck his tongue deeper 
and deeper into it with a volition of its own. Her heels pushed back on the 
bed and her body was lost in the fire of the moment and the imagined embrace 
of her lover, every muscle she had tensed as she strained upwards toward the 
maddening probe between her legs. Jackson was magnificent! She had never 
dreamed that her lover could bring such pleasure from her! 

And then suddenly it stopped. The head between the lust-trap of her clenched 
thighs was suddenly gone, and no matter how hard she arched her back or 
widened her flame-seared cunt, the gluttonous licking didn't begin again. 
"Oooohh! Ooohhh! Jackson! Jackson, darling! Don't stop! Go on! Go on!" she 
pleaded. "Oh God, don't stop licking my cunt now!" She splayed her legs and 
kicked wildly. "Jackson! Where are you, darling?" 

"D a m n i t, my name is Ellery!" Quinn howled. Her passionate craving to 
have her pussy licked had sent him to the point of not being able to control 
his desires. The woman was too much for him! He had to stop or he'd explode 
all over the g o d d a m n e d bedspread! "Damnit, I'm Ellery, not Jackson," 
he snarled, "and you're going to suck me now!" 

Then Janice opened her eyes for the first time since she'd been assaulted, 
and her mouth gaped as she realized where she was and that it teas a man 
named Ellery and not her lover on top of her. She tried to cry out as he 
crawled over her writhing body, but he lifted his legs over her and 
positioned himself with his buttocks squeezing her aching, hard breasts, his 
knees nearly to her arm-pits. And his throbbing, angry-red penis pulsed in 
front of her face. 

"Now, it's my turn, Mrs. Cartwright," Quinn hissed down at her, taking her 
head between his hands firmly and maneuvering it so that her mouth leveled 
even with his cock. "Suck it, bitch! Damn it, suck my cock like I sucked 
your cunt! " 

Chapter 6 

"Good-night, Arnie," Karen Cartwright said as she stepped from Hutter's old 
Ford. 

"Gee, Karen, I - " Hutter licked his lips, abashed. 

"Don't apologize anymore, Arnold. I told you I'd see you again." She sighed 
and closed the door, for in spite of the fact it was still relatively early, 
the close call with losing her virginity to this boy had exhausted her 
mentally and physically. "Maybe I'll walk down to the store tomorrow, all 
right?" 

"Yeah, Karen. That'll be fine." 

The cabin was well lit as she walked up to the front door; she paused, 
Hutter's car moving from where he'd parked in the drive slowly, as if he 
didn't want to leave her. Oh God, Karen thought as she looked at the door, 
Mother's still up, and I'll have to say goodnight to her. She hoped she'd 
gotten all of Arnold's hot, sticky semen off her thighs and dress - she and 
Arnold had both cleaned her as best they could - ,and there weren't any 
tell-tale stains left which would raise questions. She trembled, her head 
still swirling from the madness which had overcome her and the enveloping 
whirlwind of her own emotions as she'd seen Ham and Lola naked in the water, 
later copulating before her on the cushions, and then Arnold nearly raping 
her with his large, throbbing penis which had ejaculated his cum all over 
her pussy ... and the effects of her traumatic evening and the marijuana and 
sangria still were there, filling her blood with tingling, effervescent 
tendrils of desire, a quaking impulse to lose her precious virginity and 
lustily partake of flesh-reveling lewdness. 

She gripped the doorknob, sucking in her breath so that when she confronted 
her mother, she'd have some semblance of control, as if nothing had happened 
and her insides weren't still seething with barely banked fires of sexual 
frenzy. It had taken everything she had learned from her mother to stop 
herself, everything her love for her mother demanded she honor, to fight off 
her urges and Hutter's insistences, and she tried to will herself to 
calmness so that she could somehow rationally examine what had happened and 
why so that next time she was with Arnold it wouldn't happen again. 

But her mother wasn't in the brilliantly lighted livingroom. Strange, Karen 
thought as she looked about, seeing the cigarettes and empty pitcher and the 
small pile of ripped photos. Very strange ... and then she caught the light 
from the bedroom through the slightly ajar door, and figured that her mother 
had gone to bed to read or something. Brushing her jumper reflexively, she 
steeled herself for the encounter and walked across the cabin to the 
bedroom. 

A harsh groan stopped her in her tracks. It was a male voice! Then another, 
followed by her mother's slurred voice desperately pleading in a tone Karen 
had never heard before! 

"Agggg! Jackson, oh Jackson, darling! Oh God..." 

The teenage girl paled, her hand rushing to her wide open mouth, frozen with 
uncertainty what to do. 

"Jackson! Ohhhhh, yes! Yes, lick me that way! Ohhh ..." 

Her mother was asking for it, for whatever torture was being inflicted upon 
her! Karen had to find out what was going on ... she slowly tip-toed to the 
door, her whole body tense, and then she eased the door wider until she 
could see the whole bedroom, the bed in the middleand she recoiled, her 
beautiful young face draining of blood! She choked back a cry of horror in 
her young throat as her vision swam with the lewd exhibition of depravity 
her drunken mother and a strange man were intensely embraced in; her mother, 
her prudish, virtuous mother who Karen had figured had given up sex years 
ago, was lying on her back in a sensual position of un-natural lovemaking, 
her legs raised high in the air as the big, tanned man buried his head and 
made loud wet sucking noises between her inner thighs. She was clutching his 
hair and grinding her pelvis desperately up against his face, and the man's 
large, wet tongue lashed like a snake, disappearing into the soft, hairlined 
slit of her wide-splayed vagina, and Karen heard the resultant murmuring 
encouragements mewling from her mother's passioncrazed mouth, words broken 
and swallowed. 

The horrified teenage girl couldn't believe her ears, and a tightening 
sensation caught her in the depths of her muscle-taut belly while she 
blinked her eyes still hazy from the marijuana and sangria, trying to bring 
them into proper focus to assure herself that what she was seeing was 
actually taking place. The horrible scene was beyond her comprehension, and 
she stepped backwards as if struck by a blow. Karen shook her head in an 
effort to think straight, the almost overpowering thought blazing through 
her that she should intervene, should rush in and tear this vile, 
disreputable man from her mother's vagina and end the wanton debauchery of 
everything holy. My God, she'd never wit nessed such a spectacle of 
unadulterated lust ... even the pagan display of salaciousness which Ham and 
Lola had done in their craving to fuck each other on the beach wasn't as bad 
as this, for Ham and Lola were like animals, but this ... this was ... 

This was her own mother! 

Karen Cartwright, temporarily hypnotized by the c o r r u p t i n g sight of 
seeing her beloved mother making carnal love to a complete stranger, was 
suddenly and totally shattered by the full import of the revelation of who 
the woman was. Her mother - a crazed nymphomaniac, no more than some slut 
rolling abandonedly in naked lust with the first man who came along, a man 
she kept calling Jackson. Some mother, always lecturing Karen on not giving 
away her body, on watching out for hands and mouths, always talking about 
the purity of love. What a bunch of crap it had been, a load of hypocracy! 
Karen told herself she should turn away and let the night have her mother, 
but she couldn't - she found herself listening and staring and instead of 
being absolutely revolted by seeing her mother's naked body spread-eagled in 
depravity on the bed, a strange, light-feathered quivering began deep 
between her thighs. 

It was almost as if ... as if the scene excited her! 

It was. Karen, unbeknownst to her conscious mind, was being affected by the 
tremendous subconscious drives of her inner soul. The years of building a 
filial bond with her mother, drawn more intensely because of her father's 
alienation of both her and her mother and his thinly veiled fear and 
contempt for women in general, was beginning to break through the tender 
crust of the young teenage girl's immature control. The sangria, the 
powerful marijuana, aided and abetted by the lust-provoking actions of 
Arnie, Lola, and Ham, had released many of the restraints her moral 
upbringing had instilled in her, and now this - this shattered the last of 
Karen's resistance. For as she watched her mother's cunt being sucked, she 
was mentally watching herself, so strong was her empathetic projection of 
her personality with the writhing, passionately subjected woman on the bed. 
She felt each lash of the big man's tongue just as if he was licking her own 
enflamed pussy, and as her mother moaned and shuddered, goosebumps rippled 
across Karen's full, pulsating breasts, now beginning to fall and rise 
heavily, the nipples distended against the sheer netting of her bra. 

She watched in wild-eyed, lewd fascination as the man worked animallike at 
the widespread tightness of her mother's cunt, and she could see the 
contortions on her face above the white mounds of her breasts. Suddenly, he 
raised Karen's mother by the legs, his hand down in the furrow between her 
buttocks, exposing the whole flat plane of her vaginal slit. He flicked his 
tongue into the tight little anus, and Karen stared as if mesmerized by the 
sight as a long, low wail escaped from Janice Cartwright's mouth, her lips 
bared back over her teeth at the obvious sensations racing through her 
heated, uncontrollably shaking body. 

"Ohhhhh, Jackson, don't stop? Don't stop"' Janice whined, writhing her hips 
furiously at the hot, slavering tongue licking without mercy between the 
open cheeks of her uptilted buttocks. "I like it! I like it so much! Ohhhh!" 

Karen hardly dared breathe now, the rasping bubbling from her throat and 
lungs having become so loud she feared she would be detected. The insides of 
her mouth was parched and hot, and the prurient sensation between her inner 
thighs caused her to clamp them tightly together, making her own wetness 
apparent to her. She reached down, unable to stop her hand as if it was 
separate from her, a life unto itself, and she stroked her tender, young 
pubic mound sensuously, the way Arnold had done a short while before. Never 
before in her short life had she experienced such a repulsive sense of 
fascination, and the obscene sight and wetly exciting sounds held her 
spellbound, and a throbbing of agonizing desire built in her virginal cunt 
and hard breasts, and she realized that she was wishing in the back of her 
mind that it was she lying naked on the bed, that the big man with his thick 
cock was licking her cunt ... 

Suddenly Karen saw the man lower her legs and raise himself up to kneel in 
front of the other's face with his knees straddling her body on either side. 
His long, rigid penis stood out in the air, all but brushing her mother's 
trembling lips. "Ohhhh ..." Karen heard her mother chant, hips, thighs, and 
wet, black-haired cunt revolving and arching madly off the bed, "Jackson! 
Where are you darling?" 

"Damnit, my name is Ellery!" the man cursed. Karen gulped as the man who 
called himself Ellery, not Jackson as her mother kept repeating, rubbed the 
glistening, massive flesh of his cock-head in the mother's face. "Suck it, 
bitch," she heard him hiss, "suck my cock like I sucked your cunt!" 

Janice Cartwright had her eyes wide open now, but all she could see was the 
quivering, blood-enraged head of Ellery Quinn's penis glistening wetly from 
its sheen of lubrication. The yellow light of the bedroom's lamp fell across 
his cock, adding to its fascination, and she reflexively tried to resist by 
rolling her head from side to side. But Quinn pressed his hands tighter 
around her head, imprisoning her, making her stay before the nearing shaft 
of his cock, and the hard, spongy head finally touched her lips, rubbing 
lightly across her teeth. The terrified mother hesitated, sickened by the 
thought of her mouth being used as a receptacle of lust by this stranger, 
but then the lewd threats he'd made and the images of the pictures flashed 
through her mind, and she parted her lips to receive his thick pole of 
flesh. She had never had a man's penis in her mouth before, never allowed it 
in all her years of marital relations; she considered it dirty and 
degrading, and when Jackson had wanted her to do it to him, she'd said that 
it defiled the purity of their love. Just as she had when he'd desired to 
kiss and suck her genitals - -an act which in her mind her lover had just 
performed, assaulting her cunt with intense pin-points of needle-sharp 
sensations. 

To suck Ellery Quinn's cock now only accentuated the terrible entrapment of 
her mind and body, was the very act of abhorrence which signified her 
humiliation and anguish and complete capitulation to the lewd outrages which 
she had brought upon herself, and as Quinn gasped and leaned forward, 
sliding the gland of his giant head wetly up the full length of her tongue 
and she tasted the salty pungency of his secretions filling the warm cavern 
between her cheeks, her mind wandered in an alcoholic deliriousness again. 
She would suck his cock, suck as hard and passionately as she could to 
please this beastial and cruel blackmailershe had to until those pictures 
were safely in her hands and she could destroy forever the lurid depictions 
of her and her daughter. 

She ran her tongue wetly around and around the shaft of Quinn's cock, 
flicking the tip into his tiny open slit at the head of his blunt spear, 
feeling it swell and pulsate with life. She would show Quinn, she drummed 
through her gin-fogged brain, she'd show him she could please; he wanted her 
to suck, she'd suck ... he wanted a whore, then a whore she'd be, doing all 
the tricks a whore can do. Her tortured, confused mind droned on 
senselessly, the very helplessness of her position excusing away the wierd 
masochistic sensations arising erotically in her belly and loins. 

Janice Cartwright sucked and licked in earnest, and as she did, the powerful 
stimulations Quinn's tongue had sent coursing through her body began to 
build in her pussy again, and though a great shudder passed through her and 
a wave of revulsion ran along her spine as she realized what she was avidly 
doing, the exquisite madness of being totally at Quinn's mercy coupled with 
her abject acceptance of his kisses on her triangle of moist, hair-covered 
vaginal lips was enormous, quickly overcoming any and all opposing emotions. 
She felt the hair of his pubic area against her chin and lips, his testicles 
sweeping against her with every thrust, and as the previous sensations of 
abandoned ecstasy grew again to hotly burn her seething loins, nothing 
mattered but the sweet agony of lovely swirling fire which once more rippled 
over every inch of her naked flesh. She writhed and twisted beneath Quinn as 
he buffeted her, using her helpless body as the obscene vehicle for his 
crazed, cruel lust. 

"Squeeze my balls!" Quinn rasped down at the lovely wife. "Take them but be 
gentle. And suck! Suck, baby, suck harder!" 

Janice cupped his soft, semen-filled testicles and sucked demon-like, 
swishing her tongue with vengeance around and around the throbbing head 
sliding in and out of her widely ovaled lips, the masochistic response to 
knowing that she was completely helpless and could do nothing else 
permeating her flesh in tingling, spiraling thrills, making her mewl 
submissively from her tightly locked mouth filled with pumping cock, and she 
shivered inwardly in forbidden blissful delight. 

Karen Cartwright saw her mother's lips nibble forward with an eagerness as 
the man thrust forward with his muscular hips, and slid his wetly glistening 
cock within the confines of her warm, wet mouth. The girl stared at the tiny 
ridges of soft pink flesh pulling from her mother's rounded lips as he drew 
back and forth in a lewd burlesque of the sex act, sliding his rockhard 
shaft into her voraciously sucking cavity and rhythmically sawed back and 
forth. She heard her mother moan, and Quinn order her to squeeze his balls, 
and then her mother reach up between his wide-spread thighs and cradle the 
softness of his testicles in her palms, stroking them gently as she 
voraciously sucked his thick, wet, glistening piston of flesh. And once more 
Karen caught the overwhelming sense of involvement and touched her own 
tender, moistly pulsating cunt with her fingers, sliding her hand up and 
down the throbbing flesh of her slit in time to the methodically ramming 
cock. 

Abruptly, an electric jolt shot through her making her remove her hand, for 
suddenly another pair of hands were slipping around her and curling their 
fingers over her hard, tingling breasts. 

"Shhh!" the voice of Arnold Hutter warned. "They'll hear you." He whispered 
in her ear as he drew her back against him, pressing his already hardened 
cock into the crevice between her buttocks. "I stopped by Ellery Quinn's 
place after dropping you off, Karen, but he wasn't there. Some pictures 
were, though, and I figured this is where he might be." He snickered softly 
at the recollection of the pictures. "Yeah, and I was right. Quite a show, 
ain't it?" He breathed hotly into the young girl's face. "I've been standing 
here, behind you, watching too. She's really sucking him off, ain't she?" 

"Don't talk that way!" Karen hissed shrilly over her shoulder. "She's my 
mother!" 

"I know," Hutter snickered again. "I've seen her before." 

"And ... and another thing," Karen ordered, "take your hands off me this 
minute!" She tried to squirm free of his clutching hands on her breasts, 
feeling once more the numbing excitement from his touch grind in her loins. 
She didn't want anything to happen, not now with her mother but a few feet 
away. 

But Arnold wasn't about to release his hold, and he shoved his hardened 
penis into her buttocks, pressing her skirt into the soft, quivering crevice 
while his hands continued to massage her breasts. "Now, why you getting on 
your high horse for? I told you I've been here, and I saw you stand and 
watch them suck and lick each other for ten minutes, and then put your hand 
inside your panties and play with that sweet little pussy of yours. You know 
what I think? I think you wish you were in there and sucking on that big 
juicy cock." 

"No ... Oh God, Arnold, stop it! You're sick!" she whispered but as he 
pressed forward and she could once again watch the utterly despicable 
performance going on in the bedroom and he continued to squeeze and caress 
her breasts, his palpitating cock throbbing between the cheeks of her 
buttocks. She found that she was more beside herself than ever with near 
uncontrollable mixture of rage, abhorrence, and unfathomably smoldering lust 
which the combined obscenities were enkindling in her. 

"Hot damn, you're luscious," Hutter hissed, and he slid one hand gently over 
her stomach, down ... down to gently apply pressure at the mound of her 
pelvis while the intensifying sensations surging through her nerves reigned 
unchecked. She shut her eyes, fighting against it with all her strength, but 
Hutter had her in a position where she couldn't fight back and he knew it; 
if she resisted too strongly they were bound to be discovered like this, and 
the last thing she ever wanted to happen was for her mother to find out the 
way her daughter had been spying on her, excited to the point of no return 
by the lewd, carnal fuck show on the bed. Good Lord, but she must fight, 
Karen said to herself, she must! But his soft fingers gently teasing at her 
breasts and the hardness of his penis in her unresisting vaginal cleft and 
the fingers of his other hand slowly, tantalizingly gathering the hem of her 
skirt up was too much for the teenager to bear, and all she could do was 
whimper helplessly as lasciviously devilish tingles rippled across her skin. 

"Ohhhh, no, no, don't touch me there ..." 

Arnold had a hard time swallowing a harsh, brutal laugh. "A fine one to say 
that," he whispered wetly. "That's where my hand was before ... where I saw 
you rubbing up and down ... heh, heh, damned right I'm going to touch you 
there again, and I'm going to do a lot more to that sweet little cherry cunt 
of yours, Karen." 

The virgin girl moaned and tried to pull away, using all her willpower to 
overcome the myriad of strange feelings billowing up against her will deep 
in her belly and vagina, but then, gasping, she felt the hem of her dress 
reach the top of her thighs and a cool rush of mountain lake air suddenly 
came in contact with the searing heat of her soft, naked flesh. A ravishing 
shock rippled along her white, bare legs as the second time that night 
Arnold Hutter slipped a finger under the tight elastic of her thin panties. 
She squirmed against him, but he wasn't to be denied, not this time, and she 
chokingly held her breath helplessly as he inserted a fingertip in the 
narrow, sensitive slit of her pussy, slowly thrusting into it, parting her 
soft blonde pubic hair and once more making delicious contact with the 
throbbing head of her clitoris. 

Oh God! There was nothing the silently sobbing Karen could do as she held 
back a groan of unwanted pleasure which rose from deep in her chest, and to 
her horror, she found herself as before, reacting to the fantastic desire 
his caresses of her breast and vagina gave her. She was excessively wet 
between her trembling white thighs and her hips jerked in unintentional 
rhythm to' the teasing of her clitoris and pink, moist, hungrily demanding 
cunt. 

Weakly she rolled her head back and forth in limp protest, and then he 
forced her to kneel down on all fours in front of him on the floor, still in 
such a position so that she could watch her mother suck the large man's 
brutish penis sawing in and out of her mouth, and unable to fight her raging 
emotions any longer, Karen allowed the boy behind her to slide her wet 
panties over the full ripeness of her voluptuous thighs, exposing to his 
lustful gaze the full beauty of her white, quivering buttocks and the 
crevice dividing them with its soft pubic-hair covering that only partially 
concealed the now swollen, aching lips of her virginal pussy. 

"Oh, God, please, Arnold. Let me up ... no boy's ever put his thing inside 
me before. Nobody! " 

"There's got to be a first time for everything, honey," Arnold hissed in 
uncontrolled passion. "See? See there on the bed? Your mother knows all 
about fucking. She knows what to do with a real man's cock!" 

Karen gaped, her attention rivited momentarily on her mother and the evil 
Ellery Quinn as in a blood-filled moment of panic, she was certain she and 
Arnold had been heard. But Arnold knew that wasn't what was taking place, 
and as she watched in captivation, Karen saw what he meant, for her mother 
and the man were moving around on the bed, the man sinking down on her 
mother, hand between them, and then she saw her mother, gasp and lurch, and 
the thick, fleshy column of his cock slid upwards so that the underside of 
its shaft, wet and glistening, was visible to the hypnotised young girl. Her 
mouth dropped open as she watched her mother's legs come up and wrap tightly 
around Quinn's hips, her heels pulling against the cheeks of his buttocks to 
pull him farther in, the cords on the inside of her thighs flexing as she 
ground her hungering soft-haired pussy up over his cock, still wetly 
glistening from the saliva of her mouth. A wet vicious sound drifted out to 
Karen's shocked ears as her mother's open cunt slithered wetly up the man's 
smooth, hardened rod, and her heaving thighs and b u t t o c k s began a 
rhythmic tempo, his soft, hairy balls slapping in time against her faintly 
puckered anus. 

"See that?" Arnold taunted, loosening his own pants, his urge to fuck the 
little girl beyond all rational control. "See that? She's got her long legs 
wide open so Ellery can fuck that cunt of your mother's right up to her 
belly!" 

"Ohhhh, Dear God," mewled the abjectly delirious girl. She had seen Hutter 
slide his pants down from the corner of her eye; saw his thick, hard prick 
in his hand, like before; then felt him force his way between her legs 
behind her, spreading her buttocks unmercifully as he guided his penis 
forward, the thick rubbery head of his cock parting the full fleshy lips of 
her expectantly quivering little cunt. She groaned as the first hard 
pressure against the tight elastic opening of her vaginal lips made her 
recoil in terror, petrified into utter subjugation by the unwanted, 
involuntarily flowing, heat of her sensitive little vagina. 

He pushed. 

"Aggg!" she cried out as the tip slipped through, stretching cruelly her 
resillient passage until she felt as if her thighs were splitting wide apart 
from the almost unbearable pressure. "Agggg!" 

"Shut up, baby!" Arnold blurted in a soft voice. "Christ, they'll hear us if 
you shout like that! " 

"It hurts, it hurts," she murmured pityingly. 

She and Arnold froze in their lewd, depraved position, for suddenly Ellery 
Quinn rose up on his arms and frowned. "You hear something, Janice?" he 
asked, holding Karen's mother tightly to him by the long shaft of his cock. 

"No," Janice sobbed, "no, but I don't care. Not now, not after all this. 
Finish me, you bastard," she gasped, arching up. "You wanted me so damned 
bad, well, take me. Fuck me, Ellery, fuck me in my cunt ... Oh God, that's 
it, that's right ... Ohhhhh, you feel so good inside me ... oooohhhh... ." 

Arnold Hutter, seeing the danger pass, drove heavily into the once undefiled 
cunt of young Karen Cartwright, spearing her without tenderness or regard, 
ripping away her hymen as if it were a tissue of nothingness, his plunging 
cock sliding into her cuntal passage with a roaring fury, pushing the soft, 
moist flesh of her vaginal walls in pulsing waves before it. There was no 
stopping him, until with a mighty slap of his testicles against the 
underside of her upraised vagina, he buried his white hot pole deep inside 
her, up to its hilt. He lay unmoving for a moment, his face contorted in a 
grimace of sheer, raw victory at the debauching sight of her helpless and 
utterly exposed beneath him, with the entire length of his young penis sunk 
lewdly in the tight, wet sheath of her widestretched pussy. 

Karen felt an agony like an explosion of dynamite in her belly, her soft, 
sensitive flesh one mass of living fire from his attack, and she was shocked 
insensate, unable to stir for fear of the pain it would cause. Silence, save 
for the moanings on the bed and Karen's labored breathing, hung in the cabin 
for a long moment, and then the boy flexed his virile cock inside, and the 
length and breadth of her penetrated vagina jerked with shooting torture. 

"Nnnnnggg!" she moaned through clenched teeth, and then Arnold began a slow 
rocking motion between her thighs, and she spread her legs in an 
uncontrollable effort to relieve some of the agony, flexing and unflexing 
her inner thighs and buttocks as he slid in the moist wet hole of her 
invaded cunt. She wriggled and undulated, hoping to find some way of 
withstanding the screaming pain lancing up from the shattered remains of her 
virginity, wondering through the haze of her anguish how her mother could 
want any man to do what Arnold Hutter was doing to her. But as Arnold sawed 
with his long, burgeoning penis in and out of her widestretched vagina, 
little by little the original pain subsided, and in its place came lewd 
flames of desire, and without realizing it at first, Karen burst out in a 
warm sweat and her body twisted and writhed, bucking against his loins as if 
demanding more of his cock, more and longer strokes. 

Arnold complied feverishly, moving above her and cupping each buttock with 
his hands, and he drew his cock nearly out of the teenager's clasping pussy 
on the b a c k s t r o k e only to plunge forward again into her uplifted 
buttocks until she felt his balls slap harshly against the exposed pink 
flesh of her cuntal valley. She closed her eyes, slavering her tongue around 
her lips, low hums of velvety pleasure emitting from her throat as fervently 
she began to understand the magic of sexual response. There was no longer 
the slightest thought of resistance, and she surrendered her soul and mind 
to the delicious sensation of lying before this boy who was fucking her 
against her will and giving back to him what he was giving her. 

Glassy eyed, she raised her head, drawn by the similarity between her and 
her mother, for both she and her mother were being fucked at the same time, 
fucked by brutish men who neither had seen before this day, fucked good and 
loving it, wanting it ... and as if inately res p o n d i n g to her 
daughter, Janice squirmed lewdly on the bed in her throes of passion beneath 
Ellery Quinn. Karen's own enrapturement from Hutter's penis pumping madly 
into her upturned vagina was heightened as she watched completely absorbed 
as her mother spread her legs wider and higher and the man's hand curled 
beneath her pumping buttocks and the tip of his middle finger tantalizingly 
circled the puckered ring of her anus. It played there for a long, teasing 
moment, then suddenly brought a tortured wail from Mrs. Cartwright as it 
slipped through the protective fleshy sphincter ring and disappeared inside, 
just as Arnold's cock had burst through Karen's maidenhood. Legs kicking, 
toes curling, Janice tormentedly squealed, and then suddenly, with a sigh of 
contentment as the pain eased, she locked her legs up behind his back once 
more, pumping viciously against both probing instruments ... 

Karen's vagina seemed to gape in greedy response, swallowing the whole of 
the boy's penis that was plunging mercilessly to her very core, and he 
quickened his thrustings, hot and pulsating and deep, and the torturing 
agony made her thrash, opening the plane of her crotch still wider to the 
pile-driving pounding of his loins. She was vaguely aware of his hands 
running over her like searing tendrils of fire, his body hot friction 
against hers as he swarmed over her raised, widespread buttocks. This was 
it! This was it! This was what she'd been denying herself, and why? It was 
so good ... how could anything this wonderful be bad? It was too good..." 

"Oh God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Arnold," she chanted under her gasping 
breath. "Harder! Harder! " 

She panted and writhed, then heard him suck in his breath just as a long, 
gutter wail came bursting from the grimacing lips of the man on top of her 
mother. She saw Quinn shudder and quicken his pumpings, jerking his loins as 
her mother mewled and cried out; behind her, Arnold's cock, like a huge 
unrelenting animal, suddenly expanded and a wetness hurtled into the depths 
of her womb, filling her with something that made her want to scream and 
shout with delirious joy, a raging and hurtling of a thick, heavy body which 
she knew was his cum, the white, sticky seed which she'd foolishly made him 
spill between her thighs earlier that evening. It was a dream ... a heavenly 
nightmare! Oh, it was beautiful! 

Then came that scream she had so ardently swallowed, but not from her lips 
did it erupt, but from her mother's - and clenching her eyes shut, the 
teenager Karen dropped all of her fears of being discovered and joined in 
her mother's wild shout of climax as wave after wave of her own orgasm 
flooded her mind of all else. 

"I'm ... cummmmmiiinnngggg! Ohhhhhhh! Ohhh God! Ohhhh ... . !" 

And even as she jerked and bucked against the wildly fucking boy, she felt 
his cock still pumping out his hot, thick sperm, and her quivering vaginal 
walls soaked up his juices in a mingling with her own secretions that she 
never dreamed could possibly exist. At last her legs grew limp, and she 
started to slide to the floor, her heart pounding in her chest as though it 
would burst. Her body was beaten, bruised, and satiated; and then 
temporarily the sense of shame and humiliation returned as she remembered 
who she was and that she'd been fucked and no longer could claim to belong 
to the select few known as virgins. Tears flowed from her eyes to stain her 
cheeks as she looked up, but as she did, her inner torment was replaced by 
something else, something far worse. 

Fear. 

In terror, Karen Cartwright looked directly into the bedroom, and there, 
sitting up with her thighs bent in such a way as to show her soft black 
pubic hair still glistening between her legs with the surging cum of Ellery 
Quinn, was her mother. And her mother, with eyes as wide as saucers, was 
staring straight back at her. 

"Karen "Mother!" 

Chapter 7 

Karen Cartwright's cry of orgasm, as loud and tremulous as it was, didn't 
pass by her mother's satiated brain, even though her own spiraling climax 
shot through her like a speeding train. The mother was unaware for a split 
second who had joined her in the lewd climax of her cumming, and she pivoted 
under the still surging loins of Ellery Quinn to raise up and see who it 
was. Her mind was shattered with fright at the idea of being caught in lewd 
adultery like this, and shaking the vestiges of her satiation from herself 
as she thought wildly of how to escape. 

Then, with terrifying clarity, Janice saw her daughter. 

Karen! She had been discovered by Karen! Oh God, this was the worst thing 
imaginable, to be seen like this by her innocent then Janice Cartwright's 
emotions tumbled drastically as she saw her daughter as she was, not 
standing in gaping-eyed horror at her mother's indiscretions and ready to 
bolt in tear-filled wretchedness, but as her beloved Karen really was! On 
her all-fours like a bitch in heat in the doorway of the bedroom, writhing 
in some lascivious sexual dance macabre! 

"Karen!" the mother screamed, comprehending in sheer torment and agony the 
whole incredibly filthy scene, for as Karen looked up in a mirrored 
expression of her own horror and cried out Mother! Janice also saw Arnold 
Hutter move back on his haunches and slide his long, reddened and glistening 
penis out of the still undulating buttocks of her daughter. In one blinding 
flash, Janice realized that her daughter - her innocent, virginal teen-age 
offspringwas no longer innocent and virginal, but had been watching and 
allowing the boy to fuck her from behind as she did. She stared at Karen's 
rumpled skirt, her ivory white thighs and buttocks which were quivering with 
her spent passion, heard the final, unstoppable mewlings of desire bubble 
from her tender, swollen young lips, and Janice Cartwright thought the earth 
would open up and send them all to the hell they so richly deserved. 

Yet s o m e h o w she managed to gasp out, "Karen, Karen ... why?" 

Karen, b e a t e n and in abject humiliation, slowly tottered to her feet.. 
She couldn't reply, for the shock of seeing her own mother being fucked to 
crazed, screaming orgasm by this stranger named Ellery Quinn, coupled with 
her own loss of her virginity, was too much for her dazed, benumbed senses 
to handle. The only burning thought in her reeling mind was to flee this 
cabin, to run and run and never to return, for although she had caught her 
mother in the act of adultery, she knew that it hadn't given her the right 
to do what she had done with Arnie. She whirled around, tears of 
self-abasement streaming in a torrent down her cheeks, and if it hadn't been 
for the strong arms of Hutter restraining her, she would have fled out the 
door. 

"Not so fast, baby," snickered the young boy. "The evening's still not 
over." He turned to grin evilly at Quinn. "Right, Ellery?" 

Quinn, watching all of this with eyes like burning coals rubbed his moist, 
naked flanks and rubbed a tongue around his lips as he heard Hutter speak. 
That boy was really on the ball, Quinn thought, and in a hoarse, trembling 
raucousness, he said, "Right, Arnold." Then in a cynical taunting manner, he 
asked, "Do you or Karen know about the pictures I took today?" 

"She don't, I don't think. And I didn't know about them until I stopped by 
your place." 

"Wh-what pictures?" Karen moaned. "Whwhat are you talking about?" She was 
motion less for a moment, indecisive and quizzical. 

"My darling, my darling child," moaned her defeated mother, hiding her face 
in her hands and weeping, her shimmering coal-black hair covering her 
shuddering face. "No, Ellery, I did what you wanted. Leave her out of this, 
I beg of you. Please, don't - don't tell her!" 

But Quinn only laughed low and ugly. "Your daughter's in the photos, isn't 
she? Hell, she has a right to know about them," and then he continued his 
corrupt and salacious words by adding: "Yeah, and Arnold's right, the 
evening has just begun. Since she's in them, this sweet little Karen ought 
to help you earn them back." 

"Oh, Lord, no," groaned Janice, and sunk defeatedly to the bed. 

"What p i c t u r e s?" Karen demanded, wriggling in the emprisoning grasp 
of Hutter's embrace. "And let me go, let me go!" 

Hutter gripped her tighter, and hissed in her ear, "Not by a long shot, 
bitch. Now listen to me, Karen. Ellery's got pictures of you and your mother 
in the nude - " 

"Naked!" The horrified girl recoiled as if Hutter was a snake. 

"All pussy and tits, Karen. Taken today, from a hole in the green fence. But 
what the hell, you ain't the only ones he's done that to. You ought to see 
his collection." 

"And the prints I make of them to sell," the corrupt and depraved older man 
sneered lustily. "Like I told your mother, Karen, if you don't co operate, 
you don't get the pictures back. Hell, this is a little extra dividend, 
mother and daughter together, but I'm all for taking what's offered. I 
couldn't have planned this better if I'd tried. So, you better decide to do 
what Arnold and I want, unless you want your father and all his friends to 
see you two in full-color, and some of them are pretty damned hot. Like the 
ones where your mother - " 

"Ellery!" Janice gasped, "no, don't tell her that!" 

"Shut up, you slut!" Quinn spat, and gripped Janice's quivering arm in a 
talon-like hold, glaring menacingly at her. Then he snickered gleefully. 
"Like the ones where your mother was fingering her luscious pussy after you 
left. Fingering it and rubbing her pink cunt until she came all by herself, 
right out there on the porch! " 

"Mother!" Karen's jaw dropped, stunned by the revelation. 

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." Janice moaned, the final point of no return 
having been reached, bitterly grieving at this shattering confrontation. Her 
mind spun dizzily at the thought that no more could she take her baby girl 
in her lap and cuddle her with warmth, security, and motherly advice. 

"Your lovely mother's naked and now I want you to strip, my little tender 
child," Quinn breathed hoarsly at Karen. "Let me see that sweet little pussy 
of yours which is still warm and moist from Arnold's hot cock." 

Janice moaned the tortures of the damned, and tears burst from her eyes as 
she looked at her trembling daughter standing defiantly before the lusting, 
incredibly repulsive pair of beasts. "God forgive me," she mewled abjectly, 
"God forgive us both, Karen darling." 

"Hurry up," Hutter commanded, releasing Karen's body so he could strip off 
his own remaining clothes. "Hurry up and do as Ellery wants, or by God, I'll 
rip that dress off of you." 

"Yes," Karen said in a tone of low, even resentment. "Yes, I'll do it." She 
started unzipping her jumper with unsteady but determined hands. "We have no 
choice, Mother. It would ruin you and father if we didn't get those pictures 
back, and I'll go through with it no matter what." She stepped out of the 
jumper and stood in full splendor, with only her thin white bra covering her 
otherwise naked young body, and tried not to react when Quinn gasped at the 
salaciously enticing sight of her lithe legs and thighs, her sparse blonde 
pubic hair matted with the juices of Arnie's recent ejaculation. "Don't 
worry, Mother, because I'm no better than you, not now, not after I let 
Arnold do it to me while I watched you on the bed. And ... and I liked it, 
Mother, I really did." 

"Damned right you did," Hutter breathed harshly, and he fingered the 
once-again acing sac of his testicles, already feeling lewd, prurient 
desires r e k i n d I i n g his lust-hardening penis. "And for a starter, I 
want to see you and your mother play with each other." 

Janice gasped suddenly in horror and revulsion at the incredibly sick 
demand. This young boy was demanding lesbianism, a terrible perversion by 
itself, but worse, he was demanding it with Karen, her own daughter! She 
just couldn't do such a perverted act! She regarded Karen with agonized eyes 
as Karen came slowly forward to crawl on the bed beside her, face lined with 
sweat; she swallowed heavily as she studied her lovely daughter's quivering, 
hardening breasts and pink rosettes and chip-like nipples, and then down 
lower, to the now experienced hair-lined lips of her vagina and the dainty 
pink clitoris nestling sweetly in the trembling, fleshy folds. "Karen, my 
Karen," she mewled in undisguised misery. 

"Take me in your arms, Mother," Karen said softly. "Take me and love me, for 
I would rather have you make love to me than one of them ... ." She sunk to 
the bed, spreading out to lie alongside Janice. 

Janice stared into the other's pain-flecked eyes, and the mother knew 
instinctively that she and her child were both the same, having committed 
sins of the flesh, and were now enslaved in their own web of physical 
weakness. The immoral ties bound them in mute bonds of sympathy and love, 
and somehow that helped blank out the hoarse urgings of the lewdly naked men 
as they hotly eyed the two exposed women; things somehow seemed a little 
less terrifying if together, and perhaps together she and Karen could fight 
off the effects of this insane night of ravishment and sexual debauchery. 

Slowly Karen pressed the soft, young, curling fleece of her golden pubic 
hair into her mother's loins, arching her back, and then she kissed her 
mother fully on the lips but not as she always had kissed her, but as she 
had always secretly wanted to, as a lover, the way she had kissed Arnold 
earlier that same evening. Janice stiffened, painfully aware that her 
daughter was kissing her with agile, pliant, yet demanding lips, but 
resolving that if Karen could go through with it for her sake, then she 
would have to as well. She fluttered her tongue out, entering the moist hot 
mouth, pressed to hers as she had so many times when Jackson had kissed her, 
and when Karen's lips ground back hotly in answer, she sucked the girl's 
pink-tipped moist tongue deeper into her mouth. Then she felt the first 
tentative touchings by her child on her skin, and a hot, electric shock 
rippled over her, for Karen's fingers were so much softer and lighter than a 
man's thicker, tougher hands; Janice melted with the love she had for her 
and allowed the swiftly moving tongue and familiar hands to send out their 
urgent, teasing messages along her body, her breasts and nipples, and 
hesitatingly, she let her own fingers rub along her daughter's satin smooth 
buttocks as Karen trembled with strange forbidden ex- citement. The mother 
and daughter couldn't help but squirm excitedly on the bed, locked in their 
lewd, perverted embrace, and when Karen's tender, pink-ridged anus parted 
inadvertently, the girl moaned low in her throat when her mother touched the 
tiny puckered little hole. 

"Yeah! More! More!" Quinn panted crazily. "Hutter, you sonofabitch, what an 
idea, teaming this mother-daughter pair together! Jesus! More! " 

Spurred on by Quinn's lewd and salacious demands, Janice and Karen 
Cartwright rubbed and caressed each other's turgid breasts until the globes 
of throbbing flesh were swollen with unwanted sensations and the puckered 
nipples were distended and biting the other's tormented body. Janice felt 
Karen's fevered breath on her face and her mind cried out in futile 
rejection, but then her hands once more were moving of their own volition, 
down over her daughter's hot, anguished little belly, down to the wet, 
parting lips of her blonde-haired vaginal mound. 

Karen tensed her small, quivering body as her mother's fingers sought out 
her pink, palpatating slit, moaned with the lancing and undeniably exciting 
pleasure from the spasming contact, and in reply, she extended her middle 
finger and located her mother's hard, throbbing clitoris and tweaked it, 
rubbing it around and sliding her other fingers up and down the wet valley 
of moistly open cunt, her mind a revolv ing whirlwind of thoughts, of dreams 
of herself masturbating and her mother beside her, fingering herself too, 
the way Hutter had said her mother had done on the porch ... . 

Hutter drooled uncontrollably as he watched the mutually subjegated mother 
and daughter now voluntarily fondle each other's genitals, and he glanced 
over at Quinn, whose thick, hirsute body was sprawled beside the women as he 
reveled in the lewd display, his blood-sated, pulsing cock rigid, his hand 
stroking it lightly. "God, Ellery, I can't stand to wait! Get them to suck 
each other off now!" 

"Sure, A r n o l d, sure," Quinn panted obscenely. "You heard him, Janice. 
Get upside down on top of her and lick your daughter's little cunt." 

"Nooo!" Janice howled. in piteous protest, but her cry was cut by Quinn to a 
strangled sob. "You fucking slut!" the man snarled, "you will! Do what I 
tell you or I'll never give you those pictures! Now start sucking Karen's 
pussy, you hear?" 

A tortured gasp burst from the mother's throat, but she rolled over and got 
on her hands and knees and straddled her daughter's desirecontorted face, 
her own face just above the softly curling strands of her pubic hair. Her 
head dipped forward and her hot breath blew like searing flame down into the 
deep, coral-pink well of Karen's vagina, and then her tongue snaked out and 
she heard a muffled intake of air from Karen as she felt the tingling 
contact of the blonde-haired girl's fiery wet cunt lips against her mouth. 
After a quick shudder, Janice burrowed deeper, licking molten wet paths from 
the tip of Karen's impassionedly quivering clitoris down through the soft 
moistness of her curling pubic hair, to the pulsating orifice of her hungry 
little vagina, plunging with a hopeless dispair at being unable to avoid the 
calamatous act of burying her face in the furrow of her child's soft, gently 
pulsating cunt. 

"And you, Karen, you start sucking your mother," Arnie croaked, 
lust-drenched in his debauched role of tormentor. "Lift your face up and 
lick your mother's pussy, just like she's licking yours." 

Karen stared up at her mother's vagina and the enticing pink flesh which was 
honey-dewed with droplets of moisture, and she breathed the musky perfume, 
then tongued teasingly the rich folds of flesh, hearing her mother groan and 
her buttocks squash back against her face unintentionally, her ivory body 
quivering from the grazing tickle of her daughter's mouth and lips. Karen 
kept telling herself that this was disgusting, and a ripple of terror and 
shame made her tighten her inner thighs against her mother's tongue 
momentarily, but the lascivious delights racing through her blood from her 
vagina couldn't be denied. Her mother kissing her did feel good, and she 
began to pant explosively from the salacious and unwelcome passions which 
were flowing in her convulsed loins, then to her horror, she found that she 
received still more stimulation by returning the liquid caresses, and unable 
to stop herself, the girl lashed out everywhere, her pink, wet tongue 
invading her mother's pussy frantically. 

Janice twisted in the grip of her daughter's increasingly voracious 
mouthings, writhing as Karen refused to stop, wretchedly aware that she 
herself was unable to break the open nibbling mouth which was gluing itself 
to her insanely responding cunt. In a strangled mixture of a sob and a sigh, 
the mother heaved with the ambivalent emotions of wanting yet not wanting 
her daughter to stop, and as if of a body separate, her thighs widened and 
she pressed her loins downward, allowing Karen fuller access to her burning 
cunt, tangling her lips and mouth in her daughter's richly wet pink pussy 
below. 

"Ohhhh, man, I've got to fuck one of them," Arnold moaned, rolling back and 
forth as if in great pain. "I gotta! I gotta! I can't stand just watching 
any more!" 

Quinn, eyes flashing beacons of perversion, chuckled lasciviously. "Take the 
mother, then. Take her any way you want - because I want a little of her 
sweet young daughter's hot little cunt!" 

"Ohhhh, man, yes!" Arnold intoned frantically. He came around to where the 
smoothly rounded buttocks of Mrs. Cartwright waved and undulated tormentedly 
above her blonde teenage daughter's hungrily teasing mouth, and after a 
moment of indecision, spurred on by the electric thrill of the lewd sight 
before him, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to fuck the mother in 
the ass! Yes, right in that exposed little rosebud of an anus, while her 
daughter still licked her cunt from below! He cried out in heaving, 
uncontrollable passion: "Karen! Lick her rectum! Lick your mother's asshole 
now! " 

Moaning undefiably, Janice couldn't tell which, her daughter raised her head 
and began to tongue the tender, slightly clenching opening, bringing 
dartings of acute tinglings shooting through her, which Janice, in spite her 
sudden abhorrence, couldn't ignore. The idea of a girl, any girl, doing this 
strange perversion to her was degrading, but the knowledge that it wasn't 
just any girl but her own flesh-andblood made Karen's teasing of her 
buttocks and anal opening totally abhorrent ... but ohhhhh, did it feel 
wonderful, so wonderful ... and Janice slipped downward still more so that 
her daughter had still greater access to the tiny, excitedly pulsating hole. 

"Kneel up, Mrs. Cartwright!" the young boy commanded crudely, eager for this 
perverted testing of her shaking body. She hesitated, then lifted her 
buttocks higher, away from Karen's warmly sucking mouth, but her daughter's 
lips followed and were once more locked tightly on her naked, fleshy slit; 
in a surge of responsiveness she doubled her own fevered task in licking the 
delicious tasting cunt before her mouth, new salacious thrills coursing 
through her body as she kissed Karen's smooth, creamy thighs and bit her 
tingling pink flesh with small, sharp nips, feeling her daughter eagerly 
splay her legs wider so she could lick the crevice between them. Then, she 
sensed a sudden strain on her anus as the young boy pressed the skin around 
it outwards with his thumbs, and though she felt obscenely naked with him 
hovering behind her defenseless little anal hole, it didn't matter. Nothing 
mattered any longer to her! 

Then, Janice Cartwright felt an alien finger probing the puckered inlet 
which her daughter had so beautifully kissed and moistened with her lips a 
moment before. The finger prodded, making her wince and jerk forward 
slightly as Hutter burrowed at her anus, and then suddenly his fingertip 
slipped lewdly inside, not hurting her as she'd anticipated, but rather 
sending a new and strange sensation of surprised pleasure through her. 
Hutter moved his finger gleefully around in the tight but expanding hole, 
moving it in and out, widening her tiny rectum. And, in spite of her shame 
of being subjected to the lewd perversion, she found herself wiggling her 
hips back against it, her mouth digging into her daughter's pussy harder, as 
excitedly she responded to the strangely appealing subjugation sweeping over 
her as the boy deliberately stretched her now unresisting back passage wider 
and wider. 

"I ain't ever fucked a woman in the ass before," Hutter groaned. "Ohhhh, 
I've never had the chance before, but this is it!" 

"Ohhhh," Janice mewled back in an echo, still slavering in the churning pink 
cunt between her daughter's wetly oscillating thighs. She felt him remove 
his finger, the rubbery skin of her anus clinging to it and making an 
obscene hissing noise as it popped out. She quivered, drawing her knees 
wider apart and up, so that she could present him with the fully stretched 
moons of her buttocks, and she felt his hot, hairy body move in between her 
thighs, and a shiver of lewd anticipation surged through her. Then the blunt 
head of his hard cock rested menacingly in the wide split crevice of her 
upturned backside, and she held her breath as he clutched the top of her 
thighs and placed his excitedly throbbing penis against the tight, hairless 
little opening so lewdly displayed to his bulging eyes. She felt him begin 
to prod and realized in that instant that his cock was too big! It was way 
too big, and her dreamy state of arousal was shattered as the boy's pulsing 
weapon strained against her virginal asshole, suddenly bursting through her 
vainly resisting spinchter and popping into her rectum. 

"Oh dear God! Stop! It hurts! It hurts!" the mother cried out, trying to 
pull away from him, but unable to. "Ohhh, stop!" 

But Hutter only ignored her pleas, grinding mercilessly forward as he hugged 
her hips in his savage attack, and he growled: "Christ! Two virgins in the 
same night! A virgin cunt and a virgin asshole! I must be dreaming! Shove 
back, Mrs. Cartwright, shove back just like your daughter did when I popped 
her cherry!" And maniacally, he began to laugh. 

Janice could hardly think, for every way was pain and more pain. "Aggggg," 
she groaned as his pelvis smacked hard against the softness of her white 
buttocks and his huge prick surged into the spongy, resilient flesh of her 
rectum, and she heard his laughter change to a harsh whine of passion as the 
boy began to fuck rhythmically, deep into the soft confines of her upturned 
anal passage. By degrees the pain lessened and a certain stimulation began 
to blend with the slavering caresses her daughter was still ministering on 
her pussy below, the magic touch of the young girl's tongue and lips on her 
wetly quivering cuntal channel and clitoris driving her wild. It can't be 
... It can't be she groaned to herself over and over, her head flaying in 
open humiliation in Karen's steamingly hungry cunt, and she tongued her 
daughter's pussy from side to side and up and down, spearing in and out of 
the involuntarily clasping lips of the teenager's hotly pulsating pussy. In 
spite of the young mother's terror and revulsion at the horrible things 
being done to her de fenseless genitals, forbidden excitement purled deep 
down in her quaking belly, and her firm, round breasts jiggled sensuously 
from the buffeting her lower backsides were undergoing. 

Sweat poured off of the face of Ellery Quinn as he watched the pink flesh of 
Mrs. Cartwright's rounded little anal hole draw back with Hutter's penis, 
her anal ring clasping his sawing cock greedily as if to keep it from 
escaping. He stared in sadistic delight as his young friend's balls smacked 
resoundingly against the woman's daughter's nose below, each time Arnold 
sunk his prick to the hilt in her wide-split crevice and then draw it out 
almost to its tip, her flesh puckered around it. And below, whining in 
ecstasy, her eyes wide to catch each second of the long, smooth stroking of 
the lustthrobbing cock in and out of her mother's tight, elastic rectum, 
Karen sucked and licked the tender black-haired slit of her mother's 
pinkfleshed vagina like a crazed child, her beautiful face flushed and her 
breath coming in pants like an animal in heat as she threw her loins deeper 
into her mother's face, to get more of the wonderful tongue assaulting her 
own throbbing cunt, undulating her buttocks in maddening, circling motion. 

Yes ... yes, mother dear, I Love you ... I love your pussy, I Love kissing 
your cunt where a man's cock went in and I came out ... . Karen nuzzled the 
soft, sweet-smelling flesh, returning her mother's liquid embraces on her 
own va gina by running her tongue from the base of Hutter's ramming cock, 
down around his testicles, then taunting the half-inch of exposed penis not 
yet swallowed by her mother's pulsating, open rectal passage, finally 
downward again to suck her inner lips and clitoris, delighting in the 
abandonment of her body to such lewd, carnal desires. 

"Ohhhh, Jesus! Shit, that kid's licking me as well!" Arnold Hutter blurted, 
and Ellery Quinn was spurred on by the absolutely lustblinding enhancement 
of Karen tonguing the boy's prick and testicles as she continued to suck her 
mother's cunt. Violent spasms surged through his loins as he peered with 
wide, sexcrazed eyes at the girl pressing her flowering vagina wetly against 
Janice's wildly sucking tongue, his unsated passions building and building 
until he could hardly breathe without ejaculating on the bed. 

"You ... you want a little cock, Karen?" Quinn hissed in his ecstasy. "You 
want a little more in that pussy of yours than your mother's kisses?" 

"Ohhhhhhhh," the girl writhed in piteous abandonment, for at that moment she 
was too delerious to know what she wanted beyond the unquenchable desire for 
more ... more ... more... . 

"Then stop sucking your mother and come here, precious child. Come here and 
suck my cock ... and then I'll fuck the living hell out of your tender young 
pussy - cunt, so lovely and wet and ready." 

Karen Cartwright shuddered with the abominable thought, but then she 
wriggled expectantly, for that was Ellery Quinn's cock! ... the cock her 
mother had sucked so voraciously once tonight! ... now she would suck it, 
suck it like her mother had ... ohhhh,h,... . She twisted around, leaving 
her mother's wonderfully soft, warm pussy, but then, rearranging herself by 
sliding under the kneeling woman up into a sprawled sitting position, legs 
wide and thighs parted and buttocks poised directly in front of her mother's 
lust-contorted face. She leaned back, propping herself up by her arms, her 
young, taut breasts with their hard, distended nipples quivering as they 
stood proudly out from her chest. "Kiss me more, mother," she g r o a n e d. 
"I want you to kiss my pussy more ... ." 

Janice looked at her daughter wild-eyed for an instant. Karen wanted her to 
kiss her, wanted her to make love to her with all of the Sapphoic skills of 
two women together ... her own daughter was more than complying to the lewd, 
depraved demandings of the two evil men, but actually desiring to have her 
mother put her mouth and lips and tongue deep, deep in her young pussy! A 
fevered shaking overtook Janice, but then as her mind was filling with the 
horrible pleasure billowing from her tortuously impaled rectum, she was 
forced to admit that she had liked having her daughter in her arms that way 
- that gripping the tender white flesh of the girl, kissing her white thighs 
and trembling vagina had given her tremendous pleasure, and that she had 
secretly reveled in the physical joys Karen had given her own pussy. She 
sensed an odd wetness in her cunt as her mind surfaced these weird 
confessions, and she realized that this night, of all nights, she could not 
saddle herself or her daughter with false guilts or hatreds manifested by 
social conformity. Tonight she had to be totally honest with herself and her 
daughter, and in that blinding flash of self-truth, Janice Cartwright found 
her belly churning with desire, and a tremendous wave of love and devotion 
swept over her, inundating all other emotions. 

"Oh yes, yes, Karen, darling, I want to kiss your belly, your breasts, your 
pussy. I want to ... I think perhaps I always secretly wanted to." And with 
those shocking words spoken, she lowered her head to the fragrant young 
hair-covered vagina, and salaciously sucked the wetly engorged pink lips and 
widened slit offered up to her, wallowing lewdly in the pleasure of her 
debasing confession, happily entering into an incestual relationship for the 
first time, no longer fighting her inability to prevent her wild, 
passion-mad body from demanding its fulfillment. 

Karen's eyes fluttered to Ellery Quinn, and she saw through her satiated 
gaze the great girth of his swollen cock sway back and forth before her 
mouth, just as it had earlier in front of Mother's lips. Her tongue 
voluntarily snaked out and tasted for the first time the bittersweet flavor 
of male secretion and flesh; with a groan of sheer beastial lust, Quinn 
jerked forward, and Karen's mouth parted and she accepted the lewd offering 
of his cock, guiding it inside her mouth with one stroking hand on its base, 
beginning to suck him, suck him as she'd seen her mother suck him, running 
her tongue wetly around his slippery cockhead, easing the tip of her hot 
probe into the open slit of his glans. Her head pumped abandonedly to and 
fro, slavishly taking every inch of his thick shaft, sucking harder and 
harder, her tongue twirling faster and faster, and as Quinn's buttocks began 
to flex forward and add their own movements to her pistoning head, her mouth 
and his cock were fucking together like a well-buttered machine. Karen 
continued to respond with heaving thighs and loins to her mother's 
honey-like sucklings, shattered shafts of undiluted pleasure crashing 
through her belly and stomach and breasts like shrapnel, and the seminally 
slick shaft battering against the back of her mouth made her react with 
fervid and abandoned lust, her subtlely tender body a sex-crazed joy ride of 
maddened abandonment. 

The throbbing pulses of her daughter, her once innocent darling girl, going 
stark raving mad the way she was made Janice lash out and lick and kiss 
Karen's sweet-flowing pussy with still more impestuousness. Hutter's cock 
sunk in her anus united with the thrashing wetness of her passionate mouth 
in a tempoed team of obscene delights, making the flesh between her tongue 
and her hotly clenching rectal passage melt and flow with tingling ambrosia. 
Outrageous defiliation surged through her boiling bloodstream, and her full, 
rounded hips which had once carried the child she was now kissing so lewdly 
and unashamedly commenced unanticipated gyrating motions in a lewd cadence 
with the increasing speed of the sodomistic penis fucking into her rectum. 
It seemed to Janice Cartwright that everywhere were the lusting pleasures 
she had so long denied herself, for her flesh was amassed with the stinging 
needles of her miraculous, indescribable elations. 

So lost was she and the others, including her daughter, that they never 
realized in the billowing heat of their rising climaxes that the door to the 
cabin was opening and another man was entering ... . 

Chapter 8 

Jackson Trendell arrived in Stephen's Landing a little after eleven-thirty 
that night, having rashly driven at break-neck speeds with the uncaring 
recklessness of a drunken maniac. To recharge his courage, he'd stopped 
along the way at an all-night grocery store and bought two sixpacks of 
half-quart cans of beer; the balance of the trip had been strewn with the 
twelve cans, tossed negligently out the car window. By the time Trendell 
reached the small, vacation lake town, he was inebriated beyond reason, the 
roadway to him a blurring and weaving ribbon of black, illuminated briefly 
by yellow headlights in between rapid.blinkings of his dull eyes. 

The more he drove and the more he drank, the more intense did the handsome, 
tanned man become. His lips were set in a grim thin line, and he hunched 
over the wheel with a determined frown on his craggy face, every muscle of 
his lean, virile body tensed. with the immediate job of keeping his old 
Plymouth on the road and the more important future reason of seeing his 
lover, his one true love, his Janice. Janice ... her name was like the 
carrot before the proverbial donkey, whipping Jackson Trendell along with 
the single-tracked attentiveness of a psychopathic lunatic. He veered into 
the one lonely service station, screeching to a halt before he sideswiped 
the front gasoline pumps, and the summer dust rose like a cloud of angry 
smoke from underneath his suddenly braked car, pluming up and over the 
Plymouth, inundating him momentarily. 

The old, white-moustached man in the service station took his feet off the 
cold pot-bellied stove, put his "Righteous Raider" western story magazine 
down and slowly got to his creaking stance. Before he could get to the door 
of the small office, Trendell had burst in, nearly bowling him over. 

"Where - where is she?" Trendell demanded, clutching the door. 

"Where's who, sonny?" the man asked, taken off guard so much that he fell 
back in his chair. "Nobody's here but me." 

"Janice, Janice Cartwright, you fool!" Then Trendell put his hands to his 
head and shook hirpself, remembering through his stupored fog where he was 
and what he wanted. "No ... no, I'm sorry," he groaned. "Had a few on the 
way, and ... and I'm a little drunk, I'm afraid." 

"On the way where, sonny? Or you want gas, is that it?" 

"No, no gas, pal," Trendell said. "I want to know where a woman and her 
daughter are staying up here." 

"Heh-heh," the old-timer chuckled warmly, settling himself again. "Lots o' 
women and kin up here at the lake, sonny. What's their name? I've been here 
nie on forty years in Stephen's Landing, so I knows them all." 

"Cartwright, I told you!" Trendell exploded in an alcoholic rage. "Damnit, 
Janice Cartwright ! How many times have I got to tell you, you old coot!" 

"Calm down there, sonny. And m'name's Balshazar," the old man said, 
tightening his toothless jaw. "I can hardly understand you, your tongue's so 
thick. Now let me think. Cartwright ... Cartwright.... Nope," Balshazar 
said, shaking his head, "nope, no Cartwrights here." 

"They've ... they've rented a cabin for a couple of weeks. I . .. I don't 
know which one, only that it's around the lake someplace." 

Balshazar picked up his magazine and started to fan himself, his eyes turned 
upwards in reflective consideration. Trendell tried to hold his impatience 
in check, his loins aching with the urgency of his desire. Finally the old 
man turned to him and said, "Well now, if the woman's real pretty, and her 
daughter's blonde, I do recall a couple stopping here early this morning 
and=' 

"That's them! I know it is!" Trendell cut in breathlessly. 

" - asking directions to 1224 Piney Wood Circle, which is where a lot of the 
summer cabins are up for rentals. I told them how to get there and they went 
their way, but I didn't catch no name." 

"Where's, where's this cabin?" 

"Well now, you take the first left and go down about a half mile, turn left 
again and follow that road that's Piney Wood Circle, see - and about where 
it comes into Sundown Court, you'll see a tall, A-frame set back in the 
trees a bit, with a green fiberglass fence running around its porch. That's 
it." 

"Thanks, Bal ... Bal whatever it is." 

 "Balshazar, sonny. Balshazar Murphy. You can see m'name over the door, if 
f'n you want - " His words were lost in the slam of the old wooden office 
door. He peered over the maga zine and watched as Trendell stumbled to his 
car, lurching against the fender as he groped his way to the driver's door. 
"Huh," Balshazar Murphy muttered. "He's old enough to have some manners. 
Damned got a snort goin' to his eyeballs, he does, and seems like he's in a 
ter rible hurry. Well, no concern of mine, no case. Just hope he finds the. 
cabin and don't pester my old bones no more tonight." He glanced at the 
octagonal Seth-Thomas clock over his cluttered roll-top desk. "Only 
half-hour more and I can close up," he sighed, opening the western magazine 
to his place. "Damned fool, he's just heading for trouble in his condition 
.... 

Jackson Trendell, uttering the simple directions over and over in his 
fevered, liquored mind, turned left on the first road, but was going so fast 
that he had to cram on the brakes and back up after he'd passed the second 
turn. Piney Wood Circle wound its way through the dark, tree-lined lane, and 
he had to slow down, itching at this extra waste of time impestuously. 
Janice ... Janice ... look for an A-frame with green fiberglas ... God, 
Janice, please be there, please ... . 

Then he saw it, set back as the service station owner had said, and he knew 
it was the right one. Janice's car, a two-year-old Pontiac Firebird was in 
the driveway and all the lights were on in the house, their glow glittering 
oddly like fluorescent moss as it filtered through the tall, green paneling 
which ran around the extended porch. But ... but there was another car in 
the drive, a beat-up old Ford, raked and decked like a kid's hot-rod. What? 
Who? Puzzled, Trendell swerved off the narrow road onto the soft, 
needle-encrusted shoulder. She had visitors. Another man? No . .. no, Janice 
loved only him, he was sure of that. It couldn't be another man, not just 
like that. Her daughter? Perhaps, her daughter might be entertaining a boy 
around her own age, which would account for the Ford being the way it was 
... yes, that was it . . it had to be.... 

Trendell got out of the car, swaying from the cool evening air again as he 
deeply breathed its cleanness, his head a whirling, hot carousel from the 
dizzying tumult of his mind being hit by the freshness and by his panting 
exertion. The alcohol and stimulation of his furious passions rendered his 
brain almost insensate to rational thought as he staggered up the driveway, 
his head and torso high and arched in his attempt to stay upright and look 
sober; the wide, shallow steps to the front door were narrow, wobbly ladders 
to him, his feet slipping, his hand clutching the railing, and then he was 
at the door, fumbling with the knob. 

He stopped - -should he knock? Yes, that was the polite thing to do, but his 
hand wouldn't form in 'a fist properly or hit the wood door with more than a 
muted tap. He heard sounds from inside; Janice was there, Janice and her 
daughter ... but they wouldn't answer the door . .. and unable to control 
his longings a moment longer, ground to the very foundation of his emotions 
by the long drive and flood of beer, Jackson Trendell wrenched the knob and 
walked in the cabin, trying to put a hearty, devil-may-care smile on his 
lips. 

Across the cabin was the bedroom, its door wide open. One look, one wild, 
blinding vision of what was going on in the bedroom on the wildly creaking 
bed, and Trendell dropped his smile like it was splinted glass. He stopped 
short, air surging from his lungs in shock, his whole body weaving from the 
carnal degeneracy which seemed to hit him like heat from a suddenlyopened 
blast furnace. He took a step backwards, stifling a cry of horror, his mind 
a complete shambles, unable to do more than stare at the lewd foursome in 
unblinking fascination, mumbling incoherently under his breath, engrossed 
with a stupefaction caused by the shock of what he was witnessing and the 
tide of alcohol pumping through his brain. 

Oh Lord! That can't be ... the black-haired woman couldn't be his beloved 
Janice, his lovely, modest Janice! And the girl, that beautiful little nymph 
with her golden hair and young, firm body couldn't be her daughter . : . no, 
not her innocent young daughter, Karen! But oh, Lord, they were, and Jackson 
gulped aloud, afraid of what he might do or say, and thanking God in the 
back of his tortured mind that he was fogged with enough liquor to 
anesthetize him to this for without the beer, he knew that to have hit this 
perversion cold would have sent him out of his mind forever! 

Jackson's face grew a livid red from the heat of watching his woman being 
pummeled by a young boy, and not even in her cunt, either, but up her 
asshole! God Almighty, Janice was being brutally sodomized! and liking it! 
And there ... there in front of her was her own daughter, the girl Janice 
had sworn just a few days ago was a virgin, and she was sucking hungrily on 
another man's cock, not only swallowing it greedily but slavering with all 
her teenager's vigor as the cruel hard cock fucked crazily into her tiny, 
ovaling mouth! The child's eyes were glazed with a wild, ecstatic film of 
lust that sent a shiver through both her and her mother's bodies, and Janice 
was gyrating her own naked flesh back against the turgid, slick penis of the 
sadistically grinning boy behind her! And ... and Jackson couldn't see 
Janice's face, to see if she was as caught up in the sexual fury as her 
daughter was, because her face ... her face ... Good Christ! 

As if it wasn't punishment enough for the unsuspecting lover, his mind 
finally allowed him to become cognizant of what Janice was doing with her 
mouth and lips and tongue. Goddammt ... goddamv ... she's sucking leer own 
daughter's cunt! Jackson stared incredulously at the sight of Janice's 
bobbing head almost completely absorbed by the writhing, undulating hips of 
Karen, her tongue twirling at her daughter's wetly matted pubic fleece and 
pink, widespread vaginal flesh, the edges of her pubic slit quivering as 
Janice clung greedily to them, nipping them, licking them, sliding her lips 
from the apex of the girl's throbbing clitoris to the tenderly peeking pink 
bud of her hairless anus. Trendell's whole head was splitting from the 
mind-shattering picture of orgy and incest, hearing the combined mewlings 
and groanings of the naked foursome in their prurient bliss. How goddamned 
naive he'd been! How utterly stupid he'd been again, just like he'd been the 
first time with that bitch of a wife, Samantha! 

Jackson moaned to himself, a torrent of diffused, irrational, widespread 
emotions, as he continued to stare at the nightmarish debauch. Janice, the 
woman who'd been so modest and prudish with him - it had all been an act, he 
realized that now! She'd fucked others before him, probably hundreds of 
others by the way she was carrying on now ... and she had kept him from 
enjoying the fruits of her experience with some cockeyed bullshit about 
feeling guilty going out on her husband and having never done such things 
before because they made sex dirty. Dirty! He had never dreamed of such 
rampant abuses, much less suggested them to her, and she had been faking her 
puritanical behaviorthat was all too obvious to him as he watched her 
hungrily sucking at her daughter's cunt and getting ass-fucked from behind 
at the same time! 

Trendell's mind reeled with insanity, and all he could think about was that 
Janice Cartwright had made a fool out of him, taken his love and affection 
and twisted around to make a mockery out of it, to scretly laugh at his good 
intentions and honestly given love. She was no better than Samantha! She was 
worse, for Samantha wouldn't have considered making love to a girl, a 
teen-age girl who was her own daughter! Janice was the absolute bottom of 
the pit, the one woman who was the worst possible person for him to have met 
and considered as his own. Seething with anguish, fuming with rage, wracked 
with torture and sickness of heat, Jackson Trendell found his already 
drunken eyes now blurred with tears. He had to punish Janice for this! He 
had to strike out and soothe the misery of his soul, and the only way he 
could, the only way he wanted to was by joining in the lewd rape of her 
body, to take her and extract his vengeance by fucking her, too just like 
the dirty gutter-whore she was! 

He stripped with lightning speed, throwing his clothes every which-way in 
the living room, and then he ran into the bedroom, his cock jutting from him 
like an angry lance leading the way. Crazily, he clambered on the bed, and 
for a moment, his presence stopped everybody dead, for all that Quinn, 
Hutter, and Karen saw was a strange naked man, a leering grin on his open, 
bubbling mouth and a demoniacal contortion to his features. But Janice knew 
him, and when she looked up, her mouth and cheeks glistening wet, her voice 
echoed the terror and humiliation suddenly surging through her. 

"Jackson!" 

"That's right, bitch! Jackson!", And he began to laugh again hysterically. 
"I've come to join in! I've come to fuck you and ... yes, and your daughter, 
too! Ha-ha! How do you like that bag of apples, my innocent little Janice?" 

Janice moaned in mortification at her lover seeing her like this, seeing her 
daughter like this, nakedly and shamelessly cavorting on the bed. She 
started to sob, and then choked out, "Yes, Jackson, yes, I deserve this. 
Fuck me, darling, fuck me good - but only remember that I love you, and I 
always will." 

"Janice..." Jackson stared at her incredulously, not believing his ears. 
"But.this ... this, I don't understand!" 

"Buddy, I don't know who you are," Quinn said, glaring at Trendell, "but all 
the time I was fucking this lovely woman, she kept calling me by your name. 
Jackson, Jackson," he mimicked, screwing up his face. "She wants you, 
Jackson, so what are ;you going to do about it? Are you with us or what?" 

"Yes! Yes, of course I am," Trendell cried out, still not aware of what the 
exact situation was, but deliriously uncaring, for it was enough to know 
that Janice, his Janice really loved him. "God damn rights, I'm in this!" he 
crowed, and as he looked at Janice and the boy behind her, he realized that 
he was fantastically excited, that it didn't matter that his love was being 
sodomized and getting physical pleasure from another male; she was a woman, 
all woman, devoted to him but hotly passionate in her throes of sexually 
coupling, a writhing and twisting act as old as time itself. He felt his 
cock throbbing and aching with new intensity, his testicles swollen and 
angry and small droplets of cum oozed from the rubbery tip, wetting the 
blunt head and long, hard shaft. "Yes ... I want to fuck!" 

"Not back here, you ain't, mister," Hutter snarled, and to show his 
dominancy over Mrs. Cartwright's lewdly naked backsides, he jerked his 
pulsing cock into her stretched, pink anal opening, making her grunt. 
"Ohhhhh," Janice mewled, the lickings of her insane lust-fire wrenching her 
flesh spasmodically from his surging rod. "Ohhhhh, God, that's nice!" 

"Fuck me! Fuck me, Jackson," Karen panted, looking up into the bronzed man's 
deep eyes. "You love my mother, don't you? Well, love me, too! Love me in 
the cunt, just like you would mother!" She squirmed around so that she, like 
her mother, was on her hands and knees, her beautifully vibrant buttocks 
spread lewdly before him in a wanton dance of desire. "Fuck me hard, 
Jackson," she repeated, and then took the still rigid penis of Ellery Quinn 
back into her young, tender mouth, mewling contentedly as she began to suck 
him again. 

Jackson groaned, unable to resist, and he slid to his knees behind Karen - 
directly in front of Janice - and fingered the flowering wet pussy Janice 
had been kissing so ardently. Then his prick made jolting contact with the 
satiny pubic flax covering Karen's slim folding of vaginal flesh, rubbing 
its moist pink smoothness up and down, touching her quivering clitoris under 
her, causing the teen-ager to jerk and undulate and moan passionately around 
the cock skewering into her tightly locked lips. Then Karen reached under 
her trembling young body with one slim hand and her fingers lovingly guided 
his thick shaft to the warm, moist flanges of her cuntal hole. 

"Mmmmm," Karen sighed. Jackson has given mother his cock ... now he's giving 
it to me, and like my mother I'm receiving the joys of his love .... 

Jackson felt the softness of the child's sparse curly pubic hair tease his 
aching cockhead as he entered her tight young cunt. The driving luridness 
which the scene had instigated had made him lose all sense of decorum, and 
unable to do more than accept and partake of this lewd ruttishness, he threw 
back his head and smiled at Janice behind him, then speared forward, ramming 
his jutting penis deep, deep up into her daughter's wet, fevered young 
vagina, convulsively reaching forward with his hands to clasp her tender 
buttocks and narrow waist and hold the girl tightly to him, a low, dragging 
moan of ecstasy erupting from his soul as he battered Karen with long, hard 
strokings in her wide, palpitating vagina. 

Janice felt the pit of her belly hot and trembling as the savage brutality 
of Hutter's rapaciously pumping cock jerked in and out of her torturously 
stretched rectum, and with fogged eyes she gazed on the flexing buttocks of 
her lover with fondness and love, knowing that with each driving surge of 
Jackson's penis, he was breaking down the shackles that Hutter and Quinn had 
over them. It didn't matter what those evil maniacs wanted to do with the 
Pictures, because now she had Jackson and Karen for good, and they were the 
only two things, she now realized heatedly, which meant anything to her 
life. "We're together, Jackson ... oh, we're just like a family ... I love 
you ... I love you both so much ...." She knew she was babbling 
incoherently, that she was pouring forth the very foundations of her being 
and deepest meanings of her spirit and will, but at the same time the 
rolling tide of sensual delight was making her disembodied and free of all 
her artificially restraining bonds. Her natural instincts and honest 
appraisals which she'd tried to suppress for so long were now on top, and 
there was no more meaning to pretense, either to herself or to her loved 
ones. It was all out in the open, and she was soul-naked as well as 
physically naked. 

And as if her daughter sensed the mother's release from torment, Karen 
turned her head slightly, just enough so that she and Janice could exchange 
a look - split-second glance which told all there was to tell. They knew one 
another for what they were, what they had always been, and what they would 
always go on to be, and the handsome and virile Jackson Trendell saw that 
look, smiled to them, and was emancipated along with them, understanding and 
accepting it all for what it was. Deliverance! 

Now that the message had been passed between them, Janice sighed and let 
herself go, for now everything was going to be all right, and whatever they 
were doing now, whatever might happen in the future couldn't destroy the 
bond cementing the three of them. And Karen, Jackson, and the lovely wife 
and mother behind them were freed of their mental pressures and tensions and 
abandoned themselves totally to the enticing pleasures of their orgiastic 
revelry, striving pantingly for climax, the heat and rapture billowing in 
their bodies with intense headiness. They were all far too gone in their 
bliss, all of them including Arnold Hutter and Ellery Quinn, to notice the 
rotund, beady-eyed face pressed to the pane of glass at the bottom of the 
bedroom window, the old man's face which was flattened to the glass so that 
it resembled a kid's nose and cheeks buried to a candy-store display .... 

* * * 

Harlow Cartwright was livid over his foul luck. A flat tire, of all things, 
and the stupid idiot at the service station didn't want to fix it just 
because he was closing for the night. An idiot! and if he had been a 
swearing man, which no decent protector of morals was - Cartwright would 
have called the old fool far worse. He didn't know where he'd picked up the 
nail, but in a miserable one-horse flea-bag of a town like Stephen's 
Landing, it could have been in the main street as much as anywhere. Main 
street! The only street! And the only service station around was that 
lean-to shack run by Methusala himself, a tottering and feeble wheezer named 
Beezlebub - no, Balshazar Murphy, who should have had the public decency to 
go in some field and die ten years ago. And all the time talking about how 
the lake has been growing and new houses and new people all the time, as if 
he, Harlow, gave a fig about that. 

Harlow was interested in only one thing, getting to the cabin he'd rented 
for his wife just as fast as possible, because midnight was a good time to 
catch her with her lover. Infuriated to apoplexy, Cartwright had left the 
service station after his tire had been repaired and drove to the cabin, his 
face ruddy with anger over the delay, but when he arrived, a smile peeled 
back his lips across his teeth, for he saw the old Plymouth along the 
roadway. Jackson Trendell was here! Cartwright gleefully thought to himself. 
But what about the Ford in the driveway, behind the Pontiac? Who else was 
here? Cartwright considered possibilities furiously, and concluded it would 
be the best to reconnoiter first, see exactly where the adulterous trollop 
he'd unwittingly married was wallowing in harlotry with that obscene 
panderer, Trendall. Where, yes; for when he entered with the shotgun, he 
didn't want them to have a chance, not one to somehow carry their shameless 
nakedness and perhaps escape the retributive justice he had condemned them 
to. And who, for in case Karen was there, or whoever owned the decrepit 
Ford, then he would have to postpone the execution, somehow stifle the 
impulse to strike out and wait impatiently until that libertine and her 
whoremongering seducer were alone .... 

Despotic thoughts raged out of control, and Cartwright saw through a 
blood-red haze of vengeance as his psychotic sickness ran rampant through 
his mind; to kill Janice and Jackson Trendell took on more of a holy crusade 
against the sins of the flesh with every passing second, and Cartwright was 
forced on by a warped mind bent on purging itself of any taint it might have 
gotten by being tempted with fornication. What he was determined to do was a 
sacrificial washing of the hands - washing his hands free of complicity in 
the blood of others. 

Sweat rolled off his body, staining his suit, as Cartwright made his way 
slyly around the house, slithering through the underbrush like a ferret. He 
peered in the window at the side of the living room, saw nothing but 
scattered clothing. Good ... good.... That meant the bedroom, and that meant 
- Cartwright rubbed his Goldfish hands together, and a strange, errie 
tingling made his loins tremble as he anticipated the salacious, 
pornographic sight he was surely to see as soon as he made his way to the 
next window. His mouth was open, his breath heavy, his rubbery lips moist 
with beads of perspiration ... careful ... carefully step up to the window 
... that's it ... now raise up on tiptoe and press against the glass to see 
through the slit at the bottom of the shade ... yes ... yes... 

Great Jehosafat! Harlow Cartwright stared with huge, bulging eyes, rigidly 
frozen in his position to the window pane as his already fomenting mind 
became dangerously close to the point of total paroxism. He saw what was 
transpiring in the palely lighted bedroom, and the hideousness of it was 
like throwing the circuit breaker on a shorted electronic device, for there 
.. . but a few feet from him was to him the very base incarnate, the 
absolute lowest level of everything he'd ever despised. He mentally recoiled 
in utter loathing, his hands gripping the sill of the window so hard that 
his fingertips turned white and his nails clawed furrows of splinters in the 
wood. His heart hammered in his chest, pumping the blood faster and faster 
through his distorted, crazed brain as the sights and sounds of the 
bacchanalia ruptured Cartwright's final, tenuous thread with sanity, with 
the real world. A small, frothy foam appeared on his bloodless lips, and an 
unnatural trembling fell over his limbs like the last stages of a plaguish 
fever, and his whole body was gripped by the desperate need to kill ... kill 
his wife, and kill that debaucher who was having intercourse with Karen! 
Jackson had even gotten his precious little daughter caught up in this tar 
pit of depravity! Yes! Kill all of them! They were all bad! Harlow 
Cartwright sucked in his breath, staring in absolute disbelief, as lewdly, 
Trendell swung his head from side-to-side, pumping his lust-hardened penis 
into the teen-ager's widestretched and hungrily moist pussy, seeing with his 
own sparkling eyes Karen's sucking, fish-ovaled lips around the other man's 
huge, thick rod as it pumped lewdly in and out. He reached down and softly 
rubbed the girl's distended, twitching pubic mound, seeking out her clitoris 
and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and he was unable to stop a 
grin of triumph and lewdness from spreading across his features. Karen 
Cartwright writhed and undulated in return with maniacal fervor, allowing 
herself to be buffeted between the two older men and following their 
increased tempo with the swirling of her tongue around Quinn's nearly 
exploding cock. And behind the trio, Janice Cartwright heaved her thighs and 
loins against Hutter's hammering body, relishing the tingling heat in her 
pussy; she moved her left hand under her, along her taut-muscled, rippling 
belly, across to the saturated mound of her hot vagina and the quivering 
button of her clitoris. She rubbed her finger over her clit, churning her 
hips against the groaning, panting boy fucking her harder and deeper in her 
ass, and then she leaned forward uncontrollably and nuzzled her mouth and 
lips in the superbly thrusting buttocks of Jackson, slicking his tiny 
puckered anal ring teasingly with her tongue, causing him to moan 
deliriously. 

Suddenly a blind and consuming rage of insanity took hold of Harlow 
Cartwright, seizing control of his actions the way a terrier shakes a rat's 
neck. He emitted a low, animallike snarl of hate and disgust, whirled from 
the window, and ran back in staggering, stumbling leaps to his car. He 
fumbled with the keys, shakily opened the deck lid, and grabbed his new 
Stevens model 77 pump shotgun and three 12 gauge shells. He ran back, 
fumbling with the shotgun, trying to load the shells as he went - a, 
foolish, dangerous action only a man unaccustomed to handling guns and a man 
too nervewrought to think straight would ever attempt. He slipped on the 
pine-needled ground, losing his balance, using the shotgun as an emergency 
crutch to save himself from a headlong fall, and he reeled back, taking a 
deep breath and wiping the barrel, rib, and adjustable choke with his coat 
jacket, too crazed to consider the long, dung-colored slash of adobe and 
clay on his suit or the fact that the barrel had gone into the packed, dry 
earth. He was an avenging angel, bent on being the apocalypse to those five 
savages in the cabin, their own personal Second Coming; all else was 
secondary to the now insanely fanatical desire to stand in the bed room 
doorway and fire the three shells as fast as he could, and to hell with the 
consequences. 

Still unaware of their fate, the hedonistically entranced ravagers were 
struggling with their building, spiraling orgasms. Janice Cartwright rode 
the superbly expanding cock of the Hutter boy, burying his thick, slippery 
shaft of hard flesh deep and long in her rectal passage while her breasts 
danced furiously under her, and faster and faster she tickled her clitoris 
and vaginal hole, her buttocks writhing in maddened salaciousness. She could 
see her pretty teen-age daughter buffetted between the swollen cocks of her 
lover and Ellery Quinn, and that spurred her on, her body fired with passion 
which she'd never dreamed existed. She dug another finger into the hot, 
soaking wet passage of her cunt and moaned insensibly as she strove for her 
own release, once more returning to kiss and lick the tantalizingly heated 
little anal hole of Jackson Trendell, her Jackson. 

Karen Cartwright rode the hammering prick of her mother's lover, mewling as 
she sucked spasmodically the hot, hard penis of Ellery Quinn, as if she were 
some pagan horsewoman astride a racing steed, so proud and haughty and 
determined. She heaved herself with increasing fury up and down the powerful 
rod filling her young, steaming cunt, her hips undulating madly, 
frantically, her left hand dipping between her legs to fondle and caress 
Jackson's swinging balls as they slammed down in rhythmic slaps against her 
smooth, moistly splayed thighs. Quinn's fingers were cruel and merciless on 
her throbbing breasts, squeezing her nipples painfully with thumb and 
forefinger until she thought she would cry out in painful delight at his 
manipulations. Sweat streamed off of the tanned body of Jackson Trendell, 
rivuleted down to the white strip where his beltline started, then down to 
mingle with the juices of Karen's vaginal passions and his own seminal 
emissions as he neared his bursting point. 

For long, frozen moments the five naked lovers remained that way, each 
straining every fiber and nerve of their beings for the orgasms, their only 
sounds grunts, mewls, and sighs of desire, and the wet, slapping sounds of 
naked flesh against naked flesh. It seemed as if they would go on throughout 
the night, striving for but never quite achieving their releases .... 

And then ... 

A deep, inhuman cry erupted from Arnold Hutter's throat, and he howled: "I'm 
there! Oh, Christ, I'm ... I'm ... cuuummmming!" He suddenly stiffened with 
his glistening cock pulled almost free of Janet's clasping anus, the 
puckered skin pulling out around his thick, knobby head, and then he levered 
forward with a crazed brutal lunge, still screaming out his climax, and 
Janet felt as if the boy's cock was ramming all the way through her body and 
to her throat. A great, burning surge of hot, swirling semen flowed in 
spurts into her rectum as he jerked convulsively, and the boiling fluid 
filled the lovely young wife's belly like an enema, and Janice moaned 
soulfully, bucking back in order to arrive at her now split-second away 
climax. 

"Now, Jackson, now, fuck me harder..." her daughter moaned writhingly, and 
the rhythm of her twin lovers lewdly increased, faster and faster, until 
Jackson could no longer control his own voice, and he shouted: "Yes! Fuck 
faster! I'm ... I'm cumming tooooo! Aaaaagggg!" 

His cock was jammed to its hilt in the raging tornado of the teen-age girl's 
hotly milking vaginal tunnel, and his own impending orgasm swiftly 
approached, while Quinn growled from the bottom of his belly, locking his 
hands around the back of Karen's head, drawing her fully onto his pulsing 
shaft until all that Jackson could see was a small bit of his base 
protruding wet and glistening from the daughter's hungrily sucking lips. 
Jackson gazed in fascinated awe as suddenly her throat constricted and she 
began to desperately gulp, and he knew that the warm wet cavern of her soft 
young mouth was being filled with a wildly spewing river of Ellery Quinn's 
orgasm, her cheeks bloating outward with his white hot cum as she tried to 
keep up with the never-ending torrent, and then he saw white ooze burst from 
around her flowering lips and form trails of viscid liquid which ran down 
her bobbing chin and drop to the bedding, and then his mind reeled with the 
almost inhuman squeal of delight from behind him, and the feel of a 
shuddering tongue and he knew that his beloved Janice was now in the final 
throes of her own climax. 

Janice's frantically pumping buttocks contracted uncontrollably as she was 
torn apart by her climactic upheaval. She screamed again and thrust her ass 
back toward young Arnie Hutter's still jackhammering cock as it ejaculated 
into her bowels with unbelievable force. Her stomach quaked and her thighs 
trembled, and her brain spun with the sensual reactions she felt, and then 
she saw Jackson's buttocks clench tightly together, flexing spontaneously as 
he arched his spine and gripped the plunging buttocks of Karen's desperately 
quivering backsides. Janice knew that this was his moment, when her lover 
was shooting out his full load of hot, white sperm, only this time it wasn't 
in her, it was in her darling daughter, and this realization only added to 
her blissful lightheadedness, and over and over she thought: so good, so 
good .... 

Jackson Trendell clenched his teeth together and felt his testicles erupt 
like great cannons, shooting his hot seed into the young girl's expectantly 
dilated cunt, far, far up into her quivering little belly like liquid 
arrows. He ground his pelvis hard into her churning buttocks and dug his 
penis further into her tiny womb as he continued to pour out his heated male 
semen against her soft inner vaginal walls, and Karen whimpered, her own 
orgasm nearing its end, and Quinn's cock slipped from her lips, limp and 
expunged, leaving a thin trail of sticky white spider-webs between its 
spongy head and the teen-ager's mouth. Karen groaned, and only Jackson's 
hands on her waist and buttocks held her to his penis as he strained to 
empty the last of his cum from his jerking testicles, and then, he released 
the child and let her collapse limply forward, his own shrinking cock 
sliding from her wet, flooded vaginal hole with a soft, sibilant sound, 
until she lay half conscious across the loins and chest of Ellery Quinn, her 
own slim legs unable to support her. She lay displayed in shameless 
abandonment, her soaked pubic hair and pink vaginal flesh glistening 
temptingly in the overhead light. 

Jackson turned and smiled peacefully at Janice. "Christ, I love you," he 
murmured, falling on his side and kissing her fondly on one, hard, 
sweat-slickened breast. 

"I love you, too, darling," she whispered in return. 

"I ... I still don't understand what happened tonight, but somehow I can't 
help thinking that whatever the reason, it was for the best." 

"Someday, I'll tell you all, Jackson," Janice grinned at him. "For now, just 
accept the fact that we're together, really together. I've found myself, and 
- " 

"A family, Jackson," Karen said, looking up from her warmly curled position. 
"We're a family, the three of us. I wish you were my Daddy. You were so nice 
to me." 

Quinn groaned and rolled over and stared balefully at them. "My God, that 
was the finest fucking I've ever had. That kid's really got a set of lips, 
let me tell you." 

"We get the pictures back?" Karen smiled provocatively. 

"Christ, yes. You sure earned them. I=" 

There was a tremendous crash as the front door burst open, and the five on 
the bed were frozen in startlement as they heard the thudding of feet and 
then the appearance of a deranged, wild-haired man, his coat open and 
tattered and streaked with dirt, a fire of some unholy brilliance dancing in 
his otherwise opaque eyes. They all shuddered and sucked in their breaths, 
cowering together in the moment of comprehension that this man who'd burst 
in on them was holding a heavy shotgun in his trembling hands. "Aha!" he 
cried. 

"Harlow!" Janice cried, flinging the back of her hand to her mouth in sheer 
mortal fright. "Harlow, wh-what is this?" 

Cartwright stood in the open doorway, his face a bright red, his stubby legs 
spread and spittle flecking his lips. "You Jezebel!" he shrieked madly. "You 
... you adulterous slut! And the rest of you! You're all the same! Shameless 
violators, incestual gluttons, vermin of all that's clean and pure! You're 
not fit to live, any of you! Not one, not even Karen now that you've defiled 
her with your obscene and bestial abuses! Die, you filth, you carrion!" He 
swept up the shotgun, fitted it to his shoulder in such a swift motion that 
they were all caught off guard, stunned by his archaic swearing and sudden 
appearance. Janice had time for one, long wailing scream: "Noooooooooo ..." 
before the gun blasted into the remnants of the night. 

Chapter 9 

"Blowback," the sheriff's deputy said condenscendingly. "I'm terribly sorry 
about it, but accidents will happen." 

Weeping openly into a small hankerchief, Mrs Cartwright heard and nodded her 
head. Standing beside her was Karen, and on the other side of her chair was 
Jackson Trendell. Sitting on a long, wooden bench with sullen, still 
half-shocked expressions were Ellery Quinn and Arnold Hutter. All were 
dressed, all were tired; it was four in the morning at the County Sheriff 
substation in Lockingville, at the base of the hills. Above, some 
thirty-five miles away, was Stephen's Lake, and the blood-spattered walls of 
the cabin. 

"Do you know what caused the blowback yet, sir?" Jackson asked. 

"Oh yes, and that's why I called you here now, for I've received the report 
from the lab. I thought you'd want to know as soon as possible so you could 
go home." 

"Go ... home?" Karen said in a soft voice. "The ... we're free, and no 
charges?" 

"No, of course not. I didn't think there would be, but naturally we have to 
make sure about these violent deaths." The deputy cleared his throat and 
ponderously settled his arms on the desk and opened the folder in front of 
him. "Hmm yes," he said mostly to himself. "You were all having an evening 
together, the six of you, sitting around and having a drink or two and 
generally relaxing, is that right?" 

Everybody nodded; that was the story they had decided to tell after - after 
Harlow died. Janice shivered at the remembrance, the tremendous flash of b u 
r s t i n g light, like the flash-bulb of a giant camera going off in front 
of her eyes, and the sudden hoarse cry of agony from her husband, and the 
way he toppled backwards, the gun landing on top of him. The entire upper 
third of his body was covered with black scorch marks and ribbons of blood, 
his head was nearly severed from his body, a bloody stump of pulp which had 
once been nose, eyes, mouth, and a brain. And the shotgun clutched by the 
corpse was like a banana, its barrel curled back in three blackened strips. 
The air was foul with cordite and charred metal and human waste. She had 
screamed and screamed and screamed, even after Jackson had led her out of 
the cabin and Harlow's shattered body was draped with the bedspread. 

The deputy was still talking, and Janice wrenched her mind back to what he 
was saying. "... Jackson a friend of the family's, and Hutter and Quinn two 
neighbors you'd met that day. Mr. Cartwright was showing off his new 
shotgun, and unthinkingly pulled the trigger as a joke." The policeman 
grimaced. "Some joke." 

They had dressed hurriedly, had to before they could go to the authorities, 
and none of them wanted to explain how they'd been confronted by Cartwright, 
even if they could somehow explain his crazy threat to kill them all. The 
living still have to go on, after all .... 

"Blowback is what happens when somebody fires a gun like Mr. Cartwright's 
with a solid blockage in the barrel; the unreleased load causes the gun to 
explode, splitting and peeling back so that the shooter receives a full 
charge in his face. It happens to hunters occassionally because they're not 
careful, and from what you've told me about Mr. Cartwright, he was most 
inexperienced with the handling of weapons. We had to test, and we did, and 
we found particles of the thick clay we have around that lake in the muz 
zle. We also found where it looked as though somebody had slipped on the 
grass outside and used the shotgun to stop himself from falling, for there 
was a hole like a small, round cookie cutter might make in the adobe there. 
An accident, a tragic accident caused because Mr. Cartwright made two 
careless errors. One, using the gun that way, instead of taking the fall and 
throwing the weapon aside; and two, firing the gun in the cabin without 
making sure it wasn't loaded." The deputy shook his head, and closed the 
manila folder. "That's it. That's the report I'll make to the coroner's jury 
when the matter comes up, and if you want, you can have your insurance 
company contact this office for a similar deposition." 

There were a few other formalitites, but then the five were free to leave, 
which they did with great sighs of relief. Nobody spoke for a long time, and 
Hutter Quinn went their separate ways with only a shuddering nod of the head 
and a promise to mail the incriminating pictures to Mrs. Cartwright the next 
day. They'd had enough of this fracas. 

"Jackson, what are you going to do now?" Karen asked. 

Trendell stopped beside his car. He looked back at the lights around the 
substation, and pulled his jacket tighter around his neck with one hand. "I 
don't know," he said slowly. "Go back to my place, I suppose." 

"I'm not going back to the cabin," Janice said, "not for anything. But would 
you like to come back home with us, Jackson? Karen told you just before ... 
well, just before Harlow came in that we were a family now. You ... still 
want to be one?" 

"Very much." 

"I couldn't be happier," Karen said with the enthusiasm of her youth. "I 
think you'll make a wonderful father." She licked her lips expectantly, 
knowing that the ache in her loins, the fire in her quivering pussy was the 
same as Jackson and her mother felt. "You marry mother and we all live 
together. Just as close as we can ... ." 

Janice turned and put her arm through Jackson's and hugged him. "You 
mentioned wanting to ranch, didn't you?" Jackson nodded, and she went on, 
"Well, since this was an accident, Harlow's life insurance policy will be 
doubled, and we should get about fifty thousand I imagine. Think you can 
find a ranch somewhere for that?" 

"A fine one, lover, a real fine one. And when we're there, there's nobody 
going to bother us. No matter what we do." 

And as the three of them climbed into Jackson's car, they had the thrilling 
feeling that from then on, they would be doing all sorts of things together, 
all sorts of wonderful things, mainly in the bedroom. And ... it started 
later that very night, as they climbed naked into the warm double hotel bed 
and snuggled close to gether, and already the erotic flames were beginning 
to smoulder, to burn on for the rest of their lives. 


The End
