Uncle Tim
by Barbara Cranston
(LLP-444)


Chapter 1 

It was unusually chilly that afternoon in mid-September as Candy Allen 
dashed home from school. Neighbors attempting to garden in their postage 
stamp sized lots looked up as the pretty fifteen year old bounced up the 
hill past dozens of identical square houses toward her home, her books held 
tightly, her short pleated wool skirt rising tantalizingly with the bay area 
breeze, her thighs still tan from summer, her budding adolescent breasts 
obviously constrained beneath last year's blouse which she had almost grown 
out of. The twinkle in her eyes, the smooth clean shine of her long brown 
hair made the older women of this San Francisco suburb long with nostalgia 
for their own youth, while their husbands, glancing up from a magazine or a 
gardening tool, didn't fail to notice the unusually mature fullness of the 
Allen girl's figure. 

Candy, however, didn't even bother with her usual `hellos' to the neighbors. 
Her thoughts were centered only on getting home as quickly as possible. She 
didn't have time to reflect, as she usually did, on the words to the song 
Ticky, Tacky Boxes which had finally brought a measure of fame to Daly City, 
the dull peninsula town where she lived. Within minutes she had arrived at 
the front door of her home, tossed her school books on the table, and 
hurried to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her, strolled over to the 
bed, and picked up a record album that was lying there. The brown-eyed 
fifteen year old gazed at it for a moment almost as she would have at a 
living person, so compelling was the face on the cover. She opened the box, 
put the first record on her portable stereo. Then she lay back on the bed, 
opened the book of lyrics to the one which corresponded, and breathlessly 
read as she listened: 

How long have I waited 

Spring, summer and fall? 

It seemed through the winter 

I'd n'er see you at all! 

Oh, Julie, my darling! 

Oh, Julie, my pet! 

It's time for the wedding, 

We'd better get set! 



With a shudder, Candy closed the book and rubbed the beginnings of a tear 
from her eye. She had read and listened to that particular song over and 
over since she got the album three weeks ago, and every time the emotional 
impact 'was astounding. 

It's so perfect, she thought to herself as she lay back against her pillow, 
pressing the lyric booklet against her full young breasts. She turned to 
look out the window of her room, gazing at the familiar sight of the Pacific 
coastline which was almost visible on these clear, bright fall days. The 
young brunette could scarcely believe she had only read the words to the 
song two weeks before when her uncle brought it home for her from the 
station. She had heard the record, of course, on the radio like everybody 
else. The album had been a hit almost from the day of its release, but the 
lyrics went so quickly and indistinctly that she had not fully appreciated 
the sensitivity of the message until she read the words for herself. It had 
been on the Top Ten list for weeks now and showed no sign of letting up. The 
song writer, Kris Sherman, an unknown before this publication, was now a 
national celebrity. 

Candy picked up the album cover to look at the photo of the writer. It 
showed a lean, blond-haired young man with penetrating eyes and surprising 
good looks, even though his skin appeared scarred by a childhood case of 
smallpox. He was dressed in a suede jacket and khaki wash pants, and was 
shown hunched before a vintage upright piano in his cluttered San Francisco 
apartment. The adolescent girl thought he was one of the most handsome men 
she had ever seen, and certainly one of the best songwriters in the entire 
world. He must be, to be able to write lyrics that touched so many people so 
deeply. 

"And tomorrow, Mr. Sherman," she whispered to the photo, "I'm actually going 
to see you in person!" 

When her uncle had first told her that the radio station where he worked as 
a disc jockey had arranged for Kris Sherman to come for a personal 
appearance and to autograph copies of his album, Candy was overwhelmed; and 
she had begged and pleaded with her uncle to let her cut school and go to 
work with him to meet her favorite song writer. 

At first her uncle was hesitant to give his permission, and Candy became 
pouty and silent. He had been no fun at all lately. In fact the relationship 
had become almost impossible between him and Candy ever since her aunt had 
died the previous year. He seemed unwilling even to let the attractive 
teenager go out on dates, giving only the flimsiest excuses; and it had only 
been after Candy begged and resorted to tears that he agreed to let her meet 
Kris. His wife's death was the second tragedy in Tim Allen's life, and Candy 
was beginning to believe that he would never make an adjustment. 

Ten years ago Tim had been involved in a plane crash from which he emerged 
with only a broken wrist. But the disaster took the lives of his twin 
brother Tom, and Tom's wife. So it seemed only natural that since there were 
no grandparents on either side of the family, Tom's only daughter, then five 
years of age, should come to live with her Uncle Tim and Aunt Shirley. 

And the two foster parents had attempted to truly replace his departed 
brother and sister-in-law; perhaps being especially eager to assume the role 
since their own marriage had not been blessed with any offspring. But things 
had changed recently. 

"He treats me like an infant," she murmured to herself as her thoughts 
centered on her Uncle Tim. "He just can't seem to accept the fact that I'm 
practically an adult now." 

But the pretty youngster also knew that there was another problem between 
them. There was a secret, a forbidden knowledge that they shared, something 
sexual they had never spoken of together, but that had pervaded their lives 
constantly ever since her aunt's death. Candy closed her eyes as if to shut 
out the painful invasion of this troubling thought from her consciousness. 
She tried to put it out of her head. She didn't want to worry about it now, 
not when she was feeling so at peace. After all, her dream was coming true 
tomorrow! She would actually meet and talk to the writer and singer of 
Julie. The excited teenager had even bought a new sweater to wear, and she 
memorized what she would say to him; how she would tell him how much she 
liked his songs, and that she had decided she was going to be a song writer 
too. She even wondered if she should bring some of the lyrics she had 
written so he could look at them. 

Suddenly she heard the front door slam, and Candy knew that her uncle had 
come home from work. 

"Candy, you home?" he called from downstairs. 

"Yes, Uncle Tim," she called. He's probably checking up on me again, like 
always. 

Turning her thoughts away from her uncle, she deliberately opened the book 
again and began to re-read it from the beginning, starting with another of 
her favorites, the title song, With a single rose. 

Downstairs meanwhile, Tim Allen, her uncle and foster parent, was in the 
process of mixing himself what he called a martini, gin on the rocks with an 
onion and an olive. He was an attractive man in his late thirties with 
prematurely graying hair and a great suntan which he maintained all year by 
racing his tiny El Toro sailboat on the bay. Probably it was hiking out . on 
the little single hander that kept his body so youthful, especially his 
totally flat, tight stomach muscles. But the previously gentle face now 
contained traces of bitterness and melancholy. 

He sat in his favorite easy chair in the living room, wondering why lie 
didn't sell the house. He leaned back, and slowly sipped on his drink, 
thinking about the hard day with the management climbing his frame about the 
appearance tomorrow of Kris Sherman. Usually his little FM station was as 
quiet as a morgue and bore little resemblance to anyone's idea of being a 
performer, including his. But the visit the following day of Kris Sherman 
had caused a flood of questions about where guests would be seated, when the 
song writer would arrive, whether the outside press would be welcome, and so 
forth. Even Mr. Mason, the executive vice-president, had made a special 
point of taking Allen aside to impress on him how important the hit song 
writer's visit was from the standpoint of publicity. 

"I want you to be sure that the young man is treated with every- courtesy, 
Tim," the somber executive had added. "After all, the station could use a 
little more life; and the publicity this is bringing is worth millions when 
it comes to soliciting new advertising clients." 

Somewhere the attractive disc jockey knew he wasn't really looking forward 
to the big event, even though it had been his idea to invite Sherman. And it 
wasn't only the idea of being confronted with mobs of listeners, or having 
the executives breathing down his neck which bugged him. It was something 
more personal. Somehow he resented Kris Sherman, even though he had never 
met him. He had heard the album With a single rose before its release and 
personally found it adolescent and sentimental. He frankly couldn't 
understand why it had become such a smash hit, or why his niece Candy was so 
carried away by the prospect of meeting the guy. From the photo on the 
record cover, the young song writer looked like just one more press agent's 
creation to him, another acne-faced beatnik with an updated version of 
Hearts and Flowers to peddle to the masses who were suddenly tiring of songs 
of protest. 

Oh, I'm probably being unfair, the weary stepfather thought to himself. 
There's been too much pressure lately. It wasn't only the job, he knew that, 
but the relationship between him and his rapidly developing young 
stepdaughter, which was becoming more and more strained lately. Ever since 
Shirley, his wife, had died; the atmosphere in the house had become one of 
tenseness and mistrust. Maybe a guy like him just couldn't raise a teenaged 
girl alone, especially when he wasn't her real father. Sipping his drink, 
Tim recalled the untimely tragedy of his wife's death, a kidney ailment that 
took her life with the swiftness of a summer storm on the bay. With no 
preparation, uncle and niece found themselves suddenly alone together. 

Of course, if that had been all, the trauma might not have been so brutal. 
Both of them had known that there was a hereditary predisposition to kidney 
ailments in Shirley's family, even though she had herself shown no signs of 
illness until the tragic weekend when she collapsed while he was away 
crewing on a weekend yacht race for a wealthy friend. 

"Oh, Shirley ... Shirley," he whispered to himself, "why did it have to 
happen like that ... why? Why wasn't I there?" 

A wave of guilt flooded him as he thought about his late wife; guilt not 
only for her death, but for something that had happened a few weeks earlier. 
It was something he struggled to keep out of his mind, but couldn't. And 
even if he could, he knew his niece would always be there to remind him. 
Strange as it seemed, Shirley had been able to show a warmth to Candy that 
she could never display to him, and the little girl had returned the love, 
almost from the first day she entered their home. 

"This is morbid," he admonished himself. Putting down his drink, he rose 
from his chair, and headed to his niece's room. He knocked at her door. 
"Candy?" 

"Yes, Uncle Tim?" Her tone was even, unemotional. 

"How about our putting some dinner together? I'm starving ... " 

"Okay," she replied reluctantly. Moments later, she opened the door, smiled 
perfunctorily at him, and kissed him dutifully on the cheek. "I think 
there's a roast defrosted in the `fridge'." 

Tim Allen followed his niece downstairs and into the kitchen. 

"What did you do this afternoon?" he inquired, trying to make conversation 
as he mixed spices for a marinade for the roast. 

"Oh ... nothing much. I read the book and listened to the record."' 

"Oh, With a single rose? I thought you'd be sick of it by now." 

"Well, I'm not," she replied coldly. "I still love it, especially the song, 
Julie." 

"Well, you'll get to meet the writer tomorrow. Did you arrange things at 
school?" 

"Yes ... I took the slip in to the office." 

Her uncle, growing somewhat annoyed at her cold responses, turned to her. 

"Look Candy, what's wrong? I told you it was O.K. to come tomorrow. That's 
what you wanted to do, isn't it? Why are you acting so strange and distant 
with me?" 

"Strange? I don't think I've been strange," she replied, avoiding his eyes 
as she peeled the potatoes. 

"You have, baby ... for a long time ... ever since ... " 

"Ever since Mummy died?" And somehow it still bothered him that Shirley had 
immediately become `Mummy' to her while he, who was the identical twin of 
her dead father, had never replaced her daddy, but had remained `Uncle Tim'. 

Uncle and niece looked directly into each other's eyes for the first time 
that afternoon. For a long time neither one of them spoke. Then Candy went 
to the oven, put in the roast, and closed the glass door. 

"Dinner won't take long," she said as she turned on the automatic timer. 
"I'm going back to my room to read. Just call me when the timer goes off." 

"Candy," Tim said softly, stopping her as she headed out of the kitchen. 
"You don't have to go away. Why don't we just talk for a little while until 
the dinner is ready?" 

"Talk? But Uncle Tim, there's nothing to talk about, is there?" 

"No ... no, I guess not." 

"The roast'll be done in about half an hour," she said curtly, heading out 
of the room. 

Sighing deeply, her uncle sat down at the bright blue table which Shirley 
had bought at a garage sale and refinished herself. He began to rub his 
temples slowly with his fingers. His brain seemed to reel with images, 
loosened by the gin; and a rapid montage flashed before his mind's eye: He 
saw his wife with glowing blonde hair, delicate features, and 
peaches-and-cream complexion. The tormented husband could see her performing 
routine household tasks in his mind, her ravishing figure in cut-off jeans 
and halter top as she swept the kitchen floor. Even in her early thirties, 
she had the energy and beauty of a much younger woman. So many events from 
their life together tumbled through his brain like glass fragments in a 
stereopticon. He could vividly see his wedding day, and their long honeymoon 
camping in Mexico when they first experienced their sexual difficulties. 

He asked himself again for the thousandth time why Shirley had been so cold 
and aloof in the bedroom. In every other way she had been a model wife, 
cheerful, affectionate, and a creative housekeeper. But in bed she had been 
an iceberg, tormented by the guilt and shame that her extremely religious 
parents hammered into her about sex and physical love. 

He remembered Candida's adoption, and how her arrival seemed to bring 
harmony into their lives again. It seemed so easy to ignore their sexual 
difficulties when they could concentrate on their playful little girl; so 
sweet, that Shirley insisted on shortening her formal name to Candy, which 
seemed more appropriate. But then Candy began to grow up and search for her 
own life; and soon Tim's sexual frustrations with his wife were harder to 
hide. He found that over the years his desire for her had not abated at all; 
in fact, he seemed more potent and ardent as he matured. But with his wife, 
it was a different story; she all but retreated from her duties as a 
bedmate, to the point where she finally refused to let him fuck her at all. 

She claimed that the doctor had warned her that her somewhat delicate 
condition might not stand the strain of too much physical activity. But Tim 
had visited the doctor later, and discovered that the man had given no such 
advice to Shirley; that according to the examination, she could lead the 
life of any normal healthy woman. He had only suggested that she not perform 
strenuous labor. 

Furious at this discovery, Tim had confronted his tearful wife, demanding 
that she at least make an effort to revive their life together as lovers. 

"I should have let well enough alone," the memory-laden man brooded. "I 
shouldn't have forced the issue like that ... maybe if I hadn't, she ... 
she'd still be here refinishing her junk furniture and being a good mother 
to Candy ... " 

Burying his face in his hands at the kitchen table she had lacquered so 
carefully, Tim let the anguish run its course. Suddenly it was almost as if 
he were in a time capsule, returning to that night in late June when he had 
come home from work half-drunk after too many martinis at the local bar near 
the station. Christ, he hadn't wanted it to happen, but he was so 
frustrated, he couldn't help it. He remembered coming through the front 
door. Candy was asleep in her room, and Shirley was reading a leather-bound 
book, curled up on the living room sofa. If only he had stopped then, if 
only he hadn't been so drunk. Like a terrible vision from hell, he 
remembered the rest ... exactly as it happened only a little over a year 
ago. 

"Is that you, Tim?" his wife had inquired coolly as her well-soused husband 
came through the front door. 

"Yeah," Tim had mumbled in reply, his voice thick from the booze. "Who the 
hell else would it be? Are you entertaining lovers?" 

"Keep your voice down, for heaven's sake, Candy will hear," Shirley 
requested, hardly lifting her eyes from her book. 

Tim Allen stood for a moment at the entrance to the living room, . his 
liquor-dimmed eyes taking in the sight of his coldly beautiful wife dressed 
in a clinging dressing gown on the osfa. 

As was the case lately, his feelings toward her were mixed. On the one hand, 
he still admired her beauty, for she was as voluptuously attractive and 
desirable to him as on their first date. 

His cock began to throb spontaneously with sensual arousal at the sight of 
her, his responses heightened by the alcohol; and the handsome husband noted 
with pride that his male potency had diminished not one iota from his 
younger days. Yet, on the other hand, he felt resentment toward Shirely for 
her constant aloofness, her icy superiority that always made him feel a 
little shoddy for no real reason at all. She had a way of cutting him so 
subtly, yet so effectively, that he always felt almost guilty just for being 
alive. He knew he still loved her, loved her deeply; and yet there was 
something desperately wrong with their relationship. 

"Candy asleep?" he asked, weaving slightly as he came down the hall. 

"Yes, I hope so. She wasn't feeling well, so she went to bed early. So 
please, dear, try to control yourself. I'd rather she didn't know you came 
home drunk at night." 

A surge of anger mixed with frustration tore through Tim Allen's mind and 
body, making him tremble in reaction to her bitchiness. 

"What's the matter, Shirley? Can't I even have a drink or two with the guys 
now without its making you uptight?" 

"A drink or two? Really, dear, let's face realities, shall we? You look and 
sound like you've had a great deal more than one or two drinks." 

With a smug smile on her face, his wife turned him off with her eyes and 
returned to her reading. Her angered husband found himself smouldering with 
resentment, and a sense of deep inadequacy began to take over his 
alcohol-fogged brain. 

"You bitch," he finally said, resorting to name-calling. "Who the hell do 
you think you're talking to?" 

"Please, Tim," his wife replied curtly, "if you must use that kind of 
language, please close the hall door. I'd rather Candy didn't hear such 
words." 

Suddenly her husband reached out and grabbed the handle to the door and 
slammed it shut with a bang, leaving him alone with his wife in the living 
room. In his excitement, he didn't notice that the door, instead of closing, 
bounced open slightly from the force of the slam. 

"You're such a good mother," he snarled, "so damned concerned about your 
daughter. You don't give a shit about your husband though, do you?" 

"Don't be silly, Tim. You're just drunk. You don't know what you're saying." 

"I may be drunk, but believe me, I know exactly what I'm saying!" 

He stared at his wife, who remained unperturbed and somewhat detached 
through his outburst. His long-unsatisfied cock throbbed hungrily in the 
snug confines of his trousers, and his brain reeled with a strange mixture 
of raw desire and bitter anger. It had been nearly two months now since his 
wife had let him make love to her, and that last time had been anything but 
satisfactory. 

Taking refuge behind her feigned illness, the self-satisfied beauty had 
withdrawn from him into her private world of literature and philosophy, 
arguing that she had no ability or interest in `carnal' pleasures anymore. 
But her husband knew differently. He knew she was stubbornly refusing to 
fulfill her wifely duties to him, treating him almost like a stranger whose 
duty was to earn money and stay out of sight. 

He knew that is why he had been drinking more and more lately, to compensate 
for his feelings of uselessness, and to stave off the sexual tension that 
was building daily in his still-potent body. Sailing a small boat on San 
Francisco Bay may help to get your rocks off; but in Tim's case, it didn't 
seem to be doing the job. He was tired of being made a fool of; and now, in 
his drunken condition, the rage and anxiety that had been building steadily 
were reaching a boiling point. 

"Maybe you should just go to bed, Tim, and sleep it off." 

"Oh, no," he replied ominously, his eyes narrowing as they stared greedily 
at her sensuous form, "not tonight, my dear wife, not tonight!" 

He began to advance towards her slowly, like a tom cat on the prowl, and for 
the first time Shirley began to respond with alarm. There was something 
about the look in her husband's eyes that had changed, that told her this 
time he meant business. And he was drunk as well, more drunk than she had 
even seen him before. The tips of her scarlet fingernails seemed cold, and 
her breath came faster and faster as he approached her. 

"Tim ... what's the matter with you? Please, Tim, what's wrong?" 

* * * 

Unknown to either parent, Candy, in her bedroom, lay wide awake, straining 
to hear what was going on in the living room. The fourteen year old had been 
startled out of a sound sleep by the sudden slamming of the door, and she 
knew that her step parents were arguing again. A little knot of tension 
began to form in her stomach as she heard the muffled shouts from below, and 
her young body shook in fear. She hated it when they quarreled like that, 
and it had gotten so much worse lately. Why did he treat her like that? And 
the young girl thought she heard her step-mother accuse him of drinking too. 
Candy thought it was disgusting; and she clenched her fists angrily as she 
lay on her bed, listening intently, and wondering if her real father who 
looked exactly like him was like that too. 

"Oh, please stop," she whispered, "please don't fight! I hate it! I hate 
it!" 

* * * 

Unaware that they were being overheard by their teenage charge, the Allens 
continued to hurl fierce accusations at one another. 

"I've told you, Tim, the doctor insisted I refrain from any kind of physical 
activity." 

"You're a liar! I talked to him myself ... " 

"You ... what?" 

"You heard me, damn you! I talked to Dr. Crane and he said nothing of the 
sort. He said you shouldn't spend ten hours a day horseback riding, but he 
didn't say you couldn't fuck your husband!" 

"How dare you check on me, Tim Allen! You are no better than an animal! A 
rutting stallion!" Bitter tears began to form in the woman's eyes, as she 
uttered the cruelest insult she could think of. "You want me to submit to 
your bestial desires, that's all. Well, I'm sorry, I can't! I don't care 
what you or the doctor says, there are some depths I cannot and will not 
stoop to." 

"There doesn't seem to be a damn thing you can stoop to!" the enraged disc 
jockey spat. "Christ, it's been months since we've had any kind of real sex 
together. You're thirty-five years old, damn it, and you act like a woman of 
eighty!" 

"Just because I won't participate in ... obscene activities? Is that what 
you're so upset about? I don't think it's my problem, Tim, and I'm sure my 
parents would agree with me. You apparently haven't gotten over your need to 
prove your masculinity. But, as I say, that isn't my problem." 

Tim glared at his frigid wife, standing only a few feet away from her as she 
sat on the wide sofa. The blinding rage that had been building inside of him 
threatened to explode in vicious fury at any moment. His imprisoned penis 
throbbed with angry passion, and it was all he could do to keep from 
slapping Shirley violently in frustration. 

"Obscene activities, huh? That's all I ever hear from you, no matter how 
hard I try to be gentle." The long deprived husband was almost past the 
point of reason now; and the alcohol level in his blood heightened his fury 
even further. "Well, my darling wife, I think it's time you stepped off that 
goddamn pedestal of yours and got around to enjoying some of the obscenities 
us common mortals enjoy. And there's no time like the present!" 

With no preparation, the enraged husband suddenly unbuckled his belt, 
unzipped his trousers, and pulled down his pants and shorts so that his 
fully erect, hotly pulsing cock swung upward, stiff with vicious desire, 
while his heavy, sperm-swollen balls swayed menacingly beneath. 

"What are you doing?" his shocked, disbelieving wife cried, closing her eyes 
to shut out the sight of the fleshy hardness that was suddenly exposed to 
her eyes. "Have you gone crazy?" 

"Yeah, maybe I have! Maybe it's about time I have too!" 

Shirley was terrified to see him undressed right in the living room. Tim had 
always had the decency before to make his sexual advances in the bedroom 
beneath the protection of a blanket. She couldn't believe how he was staring 
down at her, his green eyes flashing fury and contempt, while his hands 
gripped the lewdly thickened girth of his stiffened penis. 

"Tim ... no ... what ... what are you doing with that thing?" 

"It's not what I'm going to do, bitch, it's what you're going to do! So 
you're too tired to get fucked, huh? Okay, fine, let's try something new! I 
don't even have to touch your precious cunt! " 

"I don't ... don't understand," she murmured, shaking with alarm. 

"Then I'll explain it to you in words of one syllable, sweetheart. I WANT 
YOU TO PUT THOSE HOT LITTLE LIPS AROUND IT AND SUCK MY COCK!" 

Shirley's brain exploded in terror at his words, and she couldn't believe 
her ears! Her husband had never suggested such an obscene act to her before; 
but she knew instinctively that he meant business. Her still ravishing body 
grew cold as ice, and the humiliated wife tried to make herself as small as 
possible on the sofa as her drunken spouse approached her, his stiffened rod 
of male hardness drawing closer like some frightening instrument of torture. 

"Oh, my God, Tim. No ... noooooooo!" 

* * * 

Meanwhile, their fourteen year old step-daughter crouched in fear by the 
door wearing only a thin shortie nightgown, and listened to the quarrel. She 
still had difficulty making out the words, but she knew from the intensity 
of the shouts that something was really wrong between her adopted parents. 
Anxious and almost in tears, she had crept quietly out of her bed and now 
huddled silently, straining to hear what was happening. She wanted to rush 
into the living room and beg them to stop, but she couldn't. 

The innocent adolescent was paralyzed, staring wildly at the closed doors of 
the living room, wishing they would stop fighting. Then, as she suddenly 
heard her dear Mummy cry out in alarm, she began to creep slowly forward, 
holding her breath and trying not to make a single sound that would give 
away her presence. 

What she saw made her jaw drop open in sheer terror, and it was all she 
could do to keep from crying out in total shock. The sensitive young girl 
watched in frozen dread as her uncle gripped her aunt's head by the hair and 
pressed his quivering, blood-engorged cock against the tender softness of 
her full red lips. 

Inside the room, Shirley, knowing there was no escape from her drunkenly 
aroused spouse, shuddered in revulsion arid drew back from the forced 
contact with her husband's rigidly erect shaft. She had tasted a drop of 
slightly tart moisture at the tip, and Tim had seen her recoil in fear and 
disgust. Everything in her was screaming in protest at what her frustrated 
husband was forcing her to do. 

He knew it, but he didn't care. In fact, the sight of his trembling wife 
cowering before him, uncertain of what he might do to her if she refused, 
only fed the fires of his rage and lust. She might hate him for this later, 
but tonight she had to submit! In a last bid for mercy, she raised her 
tearful eyes to him, hoping he would retreat from his demand; but one glance 
at his leering, bloodshot eyes told her that her hopes were futile. 

"Open your mouth, or I'll force it open for you!" he snarled sadistically. 
"Now!" 

Shirley, her shuddering body already drenched in. fearful perspiration that 
made the clinging folds of her dressing gown hug her dampened body, knew she 
had no choice. Closing her eyes tightly, she opened her trembling lips; and 
with great effort managed to encompass the very tip of his penis. 
Involuntarily she tried to draw back, but her lust-incited husband gripped 
her hair tightly with one hand, while with the other, he encircled the thick 
girth of his eagerly throbbing penis, pulling the foreskin back fully with 
his thumb and forefinger. Then he shoved forward, driving the massive rod 
half its blood-bloated length into the warm wet recesses of his tortured 
wife's resistant mouth. 

At first Shirley choked on the lewdly pulsing shaft as it worked its way 
farther and farther into her mouth; but her husband's firm grip left her no 
choice but to endure the ordeal as best she could. Mercilessly he drove 
forward, plowing the rest of his heavily burgeoning column, every lust-heavy 
inch of it, far back into her defenseless throat. His pendulous balls 
pressed obscenely against her chin, and her nostrils were filled with the 
pungent male odor of his loins. 

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, this time from the uncontrollable gagging 
sensation she felt as Tim began to slowly flex his hotly aching penis, 
lasciviously drawing it in and out of her helpless mouth, savoring the warm 
pull of her tensely ovalled lips each time he withdrew. 

Unaware that he was being observed by his step-daughter, the drink-sodden 
husband reveled triumphantly as his frigid wife submitted to his demands. At 
last he felt as if some measure of his manhood were restored; and the 
exciting sensations in his loins were ample proof that this is what he had 
needed for months, even years. Fifteen years of marriage, he thought, and 
this is the first time she's sucked my cock! Hell, it's about time! The 
normally conservative husband, consumed by waves of pent-up frustration and 
anger, drove his wetly swollen cock in and out of his humiliated but 
submissive wife's wetly sucking mouth with mounting enthusiasm. 

In fact, once the horrified shock of feeling his feverishly hot rod of flesh 
plowing into her mouth began to abate, Shirley seemed to find that, by 
relaxing slightly, she could at least endure his battering intrusion. Her 
lust-incited husband felt her mouth begin to open and close instinctively 
around the fleshy column stuffed up inside it, tentatively at first, then 
with an increasing, unconscious deftness. Her tongue began to dart over the 
tiny opening at the tip, then downwards over the sensitive underside, 
covering the length of the rapidly plunging shaft with an electrifying 
wetness. 

Indeed, despite her obvious feelings of shame and mortification, she was 
responding better than he would have thought possible, as though she were 
discovering that the forbidden act was not as terrible as she had 
anticipated. Even though she was deeply resentful of Tim for forcing her to 
do it, she seemed startled to find that somewhere she possessed an instinct 
that helped her to please him, even though this was the first time she had 
ever taken a man's penis into her mouth. Later she would admit that, 
strangely, an unusual warmth began to churn inside her vagina, a bizarre 
kind of empathic excitement that slowly extended to her entire body, 
penetrating the tension, fear, and coldness that generally held sway over 
her body and emotions. 

But for the moment, her lewdly thrusting husband knew only the intense 
pleasure he felt at his rock-hard penis plunged in and out of her wetly 
clasping mouth. 

"Aaaannnnggghhh," he moaned crazily above his kneeling wife's head, his eyes 
closed in sensual delight as she sucked him. His heart was thundering like a 
cannon in his chest in time with the erotic pulsing in his blood-engorged 
member; and he groaned like an animal and twitched convulsively as spasms of 
long-denied sexual urgency quivered through his loins, driving him wild with 
desire. 

Meanwhile, observing them silently at the door, Candy could scarcely believe 
what she saw. Nor did she understand her own reactions. She was horrified, 
true. How could her Uncle Tim do such a disgusting thing, particularly when 
he knew Mummy didn't want to do it? It was also the first time she had 
actually witnessed a sexual act; and although the astonished child knew from 
classes at school that such things took place, to actually see it happen, 
and between her own foster parents, was more, much more than the young girl 
was prepared for. Her adolescent body, huddling at the door and shivering in 
her thin nightie as she peered through the narrow opening in the door, was 
still with icy terror. 

Yet another reaction also seemed to take place within her, an unusual 
feeling of ... of warmth and pleasure. Down there ... between her legs ... 
in her vagina. Even though she hated Uncle Tim for what he was doing, there 
was an undeniable thrill rippling through her nearly naked body, as she 
watched him thrusting his hotly swollen penis in and out of her abused 
foster mother's mouth! Watching him standing there, his pants and shorts 
shoved down to his knees, flexing his powerful hips back and forth and 
groaning in delight, his innocent young step-daughter was surprised to feel 
a twingle of bizarre envy, as if, despite her revulsion, somehow she almost 
wished it were her mouth her Uncle Tim was fucking into! The odd paradox of 
her feelings troubled Candy deeply, and she wished the strange sensual 
warmth would go away from her virginal young pussy. It was wrong, terribly 
wrong, particularly when her sympathies lay with her step-mother. Yet still 
she watched, unable to tear her eyes from the lewd spectacle in the living 
room; and unconsciously she found herself opening the door a little more, 
silently, so she could see more clearly. 

Shirley, now totally surrendering to her husband's assault, found that as 
she knelt on the couch sucking his cock, salacious ripples of dark eroticism 
sizzled through her previously unresponsive body, making her grow almost 
wanton with sensuality. She knew instinctively that these were the sort of 
feelings her religious parents had always warned her against, and that she 
had struggled through fifteen years of marriage to fight. 

But now with her resistance finally battered down by her husband's 
unexpected drunken demands, she found herself, however unwillingly, carried 
away on a rising tide of throbbing sexuality. A wanton animal pleasure that 
she had never before known began to overwhelm her, and she found herself 
opening her mouth wider to receive his rampaging cock. She began sucking 
voraciously, while her vagina grew hot and wet with an excitement of its 
own. Maybe, she thought dimly, maybe I've been wrong all along. 

"Oooooooohhhh," Tim growled lustily above her, sensing the change in her 
attitude and reveling in it. "Suck my cock, yeeesss! SUCK MY COCK!" 

His vulgar words increased his normally frigid wife's unexpected surge of 
passion; and she pulled greedily at his lust-distended member. Spasms of 
sharp lewd heat surged upwards through her hotly throbbing cuntal interior, 
dilating it, and making her body ache with a totally new delight. Eagerly 
she gripped his twitching cock with her cherry-red lips and squeezed the 
wrinkled surface of his hardening testicles in her slim hands, driving her 
husband wild with added delight. 

"OH CHRIST," he shouted suddenly in a frenzy of bestial thrills, "I'M 
CUMMING ... CUMMMMMIIINNNNNGGGG! UN ... UNNNN ... UUGGHHH!" 

And he was there! A thick jet of white hot liquid suddenly burst forth from 
the swollen head of his fiercely plunging cock and gushed like a viscous 
flood into Shirley's mouth. The unexpected explosion of sperm made his 
tormented wife shiver and tremble, but as gush after gush of hot male cum 
filled her mouth, she knew she had no choice but to gulp it down all the way 
into her now excitedly receiving belly. Strangely, even this 'vas not half 
as difficult as she had imagined, and soon she was draining his slowly 
deflating cock with an animal urgency that made her triumphant husband groan 
with pleasure. 

Finally, his orgasm completed, Tim pulled his softened penis out of her 
trembling oval depths. Somehow he knew, despite the vulgarity of what he had 
done in his alcohol-sodden state, there had finally been some kind of 
response from his wife. Finally, after fifteen years, there had finally been 
a breakthrough between them. 

Turning away to pull up his pants, he suddenly glanced to the door of the 
living room. The exhausted husband gasped in shock when he saw, through the 
slightly parted door, the waif-like figure of his fourteen year old 
step-daughter staring at him with a strange heated look on her face. In the 
next instant, however, she was gone, and he could hear her slippered feet 
padding quickly up the hall to her room. 

So she had seen everything! His heart sank, and the young step-father felt a 
stab of misery in his stomach. Glancing down, he saw his wife laying back 
against the sofa, telltale droplets of white cum glistening lewdly around 
her mouth. Thank God she hadn't seen Candy; she didn't know. 

"Shirley," he whispered, kneeling on the floor before his wife. "I'm sorry. 
I'm sorry." 

Slowly his wife opened her eyes and glanced at him. But strangely there was 
no look of contempt, as he had expected, but a soft kind of satisfaction 
that she had never displayed before. 

"It's all right, darling," she said in a low voice. "Maybe I needed that. I 
haven't been such a good wife, have I? Maybe things will get better ... now 
... " 

* * * 

Slowly Tim Allen's mind returned to the present, and he lifted his head as 
the sad memories faded away. It was only a short while after that night when 
Shirley had passed suddenly away. Candy and he had never spoken about what 
happened that unspeakable night, yet father and step-daughter since then 
lived together in mistrust and unspoken tension. How could he explain to her 
that Shirley had finally had a breakthrough that night and that she didn't 
hold his drunken assault against him? In fact, their sexual relationship had 
started to improve until ... 

The oven timer went off with a clang, and Tim glanced at the clock. Time had 
slipped away in the rush of guilty remembrances. Wearily he got up from the 
kitchen table, turned off the timer, and went to the door to call Candy to 
dinner. 

 Chapter 2 

At two o'clock the next afternoon, the small audience studio of KCFK was 
filled to overflowing with an eager crowd. The focus of the talkative 
crowd's attention was a special platform set up toward the rear, where a 
young man dressed in a suede jacket, blue denim wash pants, loafers, and a 
work shirt was seated autographing books and parrying questions with 
reporters who stood around him scribbling on pads, while photographers 
flashed pictures of the best-selling song writer recently turned performer. 

The young man, Kris Sherman, seemed completely at ease, brushing strands of 
his straight long blonde hair away from his eyes as he smiled and bantered 
with the crowd. He had a handsome, somewhat rough face, but unusually 
sensual lips, which immediately drew attention away from his rather scarred 
complexion. 

Behind him, in a semi-circle, stood Tim Allen, his step-daughter, Candy, and 
several company executives who smiled approvingly. 

"Tell me, Mr. Sherman," a severe looking woman from the San Francisco 
Chronicle asked, "how do you feel about your spectacular success?" 

"Well," he replied in a low-pitched, masculine voice, "it feels great. You 
know, everybody's been saying how I've had this overnight success, but 
actually I've been at this game a long time, and I've got a basketful of 
rejection slips to prove it." 

A ripple of amused laughter went through the crowd. 

"Let's just say I'm very glad people have liked the songs in With a single 
rose ... and I hope they like my next album as well." 

"Are the names in your songs based on real life people?" a male reporter 
asked. "Particularly the girl Julie." 

"Well, naturally I like to draw from personal experience. But Julie could be 
any young girl who is on the brink of womanhood." He paused for a moment, 
glancing to his right where Candy stood, dressed in her new ribbed sweater 
and pleated skirt, her eyes shining with breathless excitement. Kris, who 
had been aware of the girl's presence from the minute she arrived, locked 
his eyes directly with hers. 

"For example, it could be that pretty young girl right there. I like to 
think that the character might be someone just like that ... " 

All eyes turned to Candy for a moment, and she blushed with embarrassment. 
Yet she was also deeply thrilled that the famous song writer had singled her 
out like that. In hearing and reading the song lyrics, Tim Allen's naive 
daughter had identified completely with Julie, and she thought that Kris's 
singling her out meant he could see it too. 

Her father, on the other hand, standing uncomfortably next to her, was 
annoyed by the remark, and wished he had never thought of inviting Sherman. 
He hadn't liked him any better in person than he had expected to; and he 
thought he detected a note of smug sarcasm beneath the casually dressed 
author's easy charm. He was also aware that the young man had been glancing 
with unusual interest at his step-daughter, and the concerned father in him 
didn't like that one bit. 

"Mr. Sherman," a lady reporter queried, "several of the critics have 
suggested that your album, despite its success, is riddled with cliches. How 
do you feel about that?" 

"To tell the truth, I don't give a damn." Another amused giggle went through 
the crowd. "I don't pay much attention to the critics. What matters to me is 
what the people think ... the real people, not the intellectual snobs. And 
apparently the people like my work. Frankly that's enough for me." There was 
applause from the crowd. 

What bull shit! Tim Allen thought to himself. 

A station executive sitting next to him leaned in to whisper in the jealous 
step-father's ear. "The boy's fantastic, Tim. A real charmer. Worth a 
fortune to the station, eh?" 

Allen smiled back artifically, and sighed. 

"There have been comparisons," another reporter said, "between your work and 
that of Rod McKuen. Do you consider yourself in the same vein? And do you 
consider yourself primarily a song writer or primarily a performer?" 

Kris glowered slightly at the reporter, then answered, "I don't consider 
myself anything in particular. I write songs. Sometimes I sing them; 
sometimes other people do. As for McKuen, he's good, but I consider myself 
better. Does that answer your question?" 

"Yes, thank you very much." 

The executive next to Tim Allen, a thin, gray-haired man in a blue suit, 
stepped forward. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid that's all the time 
we have for questions. We're leaving the air now to switch to our other 
studio for the news. Of course, we'll let Mr. Sherman finish autographing 
these albums. There's a table with refreshments just over there, and I hope 
you will avail yourselves, compliments of KCFK." 

Applause broke out, then excited chatter as the crowd began to talk and mill 
around the table set out with Cokes and sandwiches. Immediately Candy moved 
over to the song writer, holding her well-used copy of his album. 

"Could you ... could you autograph this for me?" she asked shyly. 

Kris glanced up at her, smiling warmly. 

"Sure, it'd be my pleasure." He took the box of records and turned it at an 
angle so as not to cover his own face as he wrote. "To what name?" 

"Julie ... I mean, Candy... " Allen's step-daughter laughed in acute 
embarrassment. 

"Candy ... pretty name." He wrote something quickly on the cover and handed 
it to the excited girl who read it at once. 

To Candy; may she find her love like Julie, and may she be happy always. 
Kris Sherman. 

"How's that?" he asked. 

"It's perfect. Thanks so' much. You know, my step-father's the disc jockey 
who invited you, and I couldn't believe it when he told me you were really 
coming. I love your album, really And I wanted to thank you." 

"Believe me, Candy, it's me who should be thanking you. I wouldn't be where 
I am today if it wasn't for my listeners." He smiled at her with his winning 
grin, and affectionately squeezed her arm. Candy's step-father, noting this 
from a distance, felt himself grow somewhat tense. 

"I want to be a song writer too someday," the girl said. "You've been a real 
inspiration to me." 

"You want to write songs? I'm delighted to hear that. If there's any way I 
can help," he let his eyes quickly travel up and down her appetizing young 
body, "please say so." 

"Maybe some other time," Tim Allen said suddenly, stepping towards them, 
"but I think Candy has to be getting home now." 

His step-daughter shot back, her eyes flashing angrily. "Can't I stay a few 
minutes and talk to Mr. Sherman?" 

Before Tim could protest further, the station executive joined them, having 
overheard the conversation. 

"I'm sure you can, Candy," he said solicitiously. "After all, Tim, it's a 
great honor having Mr. Sherman here and a fantastic opportunity for Candy to 
get some pointers. We might even get a story in the Chronicle about the 
famous song writer helping a local girl." Then he added in a confidential 
whisper, "And we could use the extra publicity." 

"Perhaps another time," Allen said evasively to the young song writer. 

"No time like the present," Kris volunteered, rising from his chair. "Why 
don't you and I go off and have a Coke, Candy, and get away from this crowd? 
I'd really be interested in talking to you." 

"Oh, I'd love it. Please." 

Tim felt cornered. He knew old Mason wouldn't like it if he objected. 
Goddamn radio station after all. And he didn't want to deepen the rift 
between him and his step-daughter by refusing to let her go. Still he was 
extremely wary of the self-impressed song writer and suspicious that the 
guy's interest in Candy was not necessarily of an artistic nature. 

"Very well," he said finally, "I'm sure it'll be all right." 

"There's a coffee shop around the corner," Mason said, "and I'll see to it 
that the crowd here doesn't know you're headed there." 

"Great," Kris said. He put his arm around Candy's shoulder and let her 
through the crowd of admirers. "Tell me, honey, what kind of songs do you 
want to ... " 

Candy's step-father watched them sternly as they left the studio. He knew 
his impressionable daughter was a sitting duck for the kind of smooth line 
that Sherman handed out; and it was all he could do to stifle an impulse to 
follow them. 

"Well, Tim," the executive said, "it's been a great success. It should 
attract a few more advertisers to the studio. Frankly, you know, sales have 
been falling off, and we've been somewhat concerned about how to revive 
them. Things should be better now." 

"I hope so," Tim replied in a low voice. "I certainly hope so." 

* * * 

A few minutes later, Candy was sitting in a secluded corner of the coffee 
shop, sipping a lemon Coke and waiting for Kris to return from the men's 
room. The pretty fifteen year old could hardly believe her good fortune. Not 
only had she actually met her favorite song writer and singer, but she was 
now having a Coke with him and talking to him like a friend! To the 
impressionable girl, he was even better looking than his photos. She loved 
his handsome strong face, and his longish hair that fell straight down over 
the collar of his suede jacket; and he had a way of smiling at her and 
talking in that deep, raspy voice of his that thrilled the young adolescent 
beyond measure. She was positive that he was just like the hero of his 
songs, deep feeling but hesitant. And in many ways she was like Julie, the 
heroine of her favorite song. 

"Maybe I'm just being silly," she mused, "but it's like fate or something, 
us just sitting and having a Coke together, like it was meant to happen." 

While she daydreamed romantically, the object of her thoughts was combing 
back his hair and admiring his face in the lavatory mirror. 

She's ripe for the picking, that juicy little cunt. Nice and young, and nice 
and stupid. Just the kind I like. Like rolling off a log. 

When he had seen her come into the studio, earlier that afternoon, the 
amoral young song writer could barely keep his eyes off her curvaceous 
adolescent body. The way the pear-shaped buds of her young breasts pushed 
against the ribbed material of her sweater made his eager cock begin to 
thump in his trousers. She was so innocent, so trusting, so full of the 
bright energy and excitement of youth, that the horny entertainer yearned to 
shove his greedy prick hard up into her virginal pussy. 

I like the new releases, he joked to himself as he made his way back to the 
table. 

"Hi there." 

Candy looked up to find herself staring at Kris's good-looking face. For a 
moment she was swept away by the sight of him. He was so masculine looking 
in his elegant suede jacket. And particularly, her attention was caught by 
the unusually large bulge in the crotch of his faded denim pants. She 
glanced away quickly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. 

"Hi ... " she smiled. 

Kris eased himself into the booth and sipped on his Coke, hardly taking his 
eyes off Candy's pretty young face. 

"You said you write song lyrics, Candy. Do you have any with you?" 

"Well ... just one. I wasn't going to show it to you. You'll probably think 
it's silly." 

"Why? Do I look that insensitive to you?" 

"No ... " she laughed girlishly, "not really. But I'm sure it's not any 
good." 

"Let me see it." 

Slowly she reached into her purse, and with trembling fingers withdrew a 
folded piece of paper. 

"I...I wrote it after I heard your album ... " 

Smiling his warmest smile, Kris took the paper, unfolded it, and read... 

The One True Love of My Life by Candy Allen. 

Someday I know I'll find you 

Through the loneliness and pain. 

And then I will be happy 

And love will be the gain. 

Smiling in the sunshine 

Laughing through the storm, 

Our love is like a fire 

That makes our hearts grow warm. 



"Candy," he said, after a long silence, "this is beautiful. Just beautiful." 

"Do ... do you really think so?" the gullible teenager asked shyly. 

"Really ... I ... I'm very moved by it." They sat absolutely still in the 
coffee shop booth, their eyes locked together. Candy felt little chills of 
excitement race through her adolescent body, and a warm pulsing glow seemed 
to be churning in her loins. "It seems such a shame that we'll only have 
these few minutes together before I go back on the road. This has been very 
special for me, Candy." 

"For me too," she whispered. 

Suddenly there was a strange sensation in the young girl's knee. Kris was 
brushing his leg against it. Tim Allen's fifteen year old step-daughter felt 
her heart fluttering in her chest at the contact. Maybe it was wrong of him 
to make that little gesture, but she held her leg still, thrilled by the 
contact of her knee against his under the table. 

"You could be a good song writer some day, Candy," the aroused young man 
continued. "Maybe we'll meet again when you're famous." 

"I'd like that," she replied. In fact, she didn't want to ever leave him 
from that moment on, and she wished she could run away with him. "Do ... do 
you have to go now?" 

"Soon," he said. "I've promised some friends in the city I'd be there this 
afternoon." 

"Oh." Neither one of them spoke for a while, and Candy was sure that Kris 
felt just the way she did. He still kept his leg pressed against hers. In 
fact he was moving it back and forth now, making the warm glow in her loins 
begin to grow hotter and hotter. The adolescent girl began to wonder if 
maybe she wasn't falling in love. "I guess ... I guess I should go too, or 
my step-father will get worried." 

"Do you like your step father?" he asked, as he finally pulled his leg away. 

"Oh ... he's okay. He's really my uncle; only my folks died, so now he takes 
care of me. We just don't get along, I guess. 

"I know how it can be," he said, smiling. 

"Come on, I'll take you home in my van. That'll give us a little more time 
together. Would you like that?" 

"Oh yes, very much." 

* * * 

Fifteen minutes later they were parked in a secluded alley not far from 
Candy's house, talking in the front seat of a new green Volkswagon bus. 

" ... Yeah, I got this bus with my profits from my first record sale. First 
chance I get, I'm going to drive across the country and just see the sights 
... free as a bird." 

"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Candy sighed. 

"Got everything I need in this little baby," he said, referring to the van. 
"Look back there." He drew back the curtain behind the front seats, and 
Candy turned to see that the back of the bus was fully equipped with a tiny 
kitchen, and a large, double-bed-size mattress. 

"Shall we sit there for a minute?" he asked. 

"I - I guess so," Candy replied, following him through the curtain. 

"Complete privacy," he said, as they sat down together. The back of the van 
was illuminated by the strong sunlight filtering through the checkered 
window curtains. Suddenly Candy realized that for the first time she was 
completely alone with the handsome young song writer. She trembled slightly, 
feeling that perhaps she had gone a little too far by being here; but she 
was so excited, just being near him, that she didn't mind. 

She almost liked the idea of defying her step-father like this, and doing 
something a little wicked. Besides they were only just talking, weren't 
they? Kris had been a real gentleman. She looked at him sitting so close on 
the mattress. Oh, how handsome he looked, with the sunshine glistening on 
his blonde hair; and his eyes seemed to be gazing at her so sweetly, with an 
expression that reminded her of a big puppy, so trusting, so loving. She 
found herself almost wanting to ... to kiss him. 

Kris Sherman was doing his best to keep his `cool' and not to go too fast 
with the naive fifteen year old; although inwardly he was raging with lust 
for the appetizing youngster. His ample cock was straining in tight erection 
against his cotton pants, aching to lunge up into Candy's tight little 
teenage cunt. But he knew that he had to take it slow, otherwise he could 
get in big trouble, not only with her step-father but with the police. 
Still, the girl looked very willing. So he began to edge closer and closer 
to her. 

"Candy," lie said as they sat next to each other, "would you mind ... if... 
" 

"What?" she asked in a voice that was barely audible. 

"Would you mind if I ... kissed you ... ?" 

"I ... I ... no ... no, I don't think so." 

Gently, Candy found herself being encircled by his strong arms as he drew 
her softly against his muscular body. In the next moment his face bent down, 
and their lips touched in a soft, tender kiss. Candy thought she would 
explode with happiness; for as their lips met, little ripples of sweet 
delight began to sparkle all over her body. She was in the arms of the man 
she had admired for weeks! He was actually kissing her in the back seat of 
his Volkswagon bus! It was a dream come true. 

She nestled happily against him while he kissed her over and over on the 
lips, each time growing more and more intense. Then his tongue began forcing 
its way between her lips, trying to gain entry into her mouth; and as this 
happened, Candy grew unaccountably anxious, drawing away from him slightly. 

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed voice. "Don't you want me? Don't be 
afraid ... it's all right ... " 

"I ... I do want you ... I do!" 

To prove it, she kissed him fiercely on the lips; and then allowed him to 
thrust his tongue deep into her open mouth. A strange kind of animal 
excitement began to wind its way through her body as he did; and she 
clutched at his body with her hands, holding him tightly as passion began to 
rise in her adolescent frame. She could feel his hand traveling upward now 
until it cupped her soft young breast, but she fought back any resistance. 
She wanted him!! She wanted to be his, just like the girl in the song With a 
single rose. 

Kris sensed that the girl was responding eagerly to his older, more 
practiced caresses, and he began to increase his ardor, kissing her more 
hungrily, and massaging the thrusting fullness of her surprisingly 
well-developed breasts. Even through the surface of her sweater and bra, he 
could feel her nipples, taut with desire against his palm. 

Candy made a feeble attempt to stop his hands as the aroused young man began 
to reach under her sweater, but her own excitement was so delicious that she 
mutely let him lift it up and reach around to unhook her bra, so that her 
swelling young breasts were completely exposed to his gaze, white and 
vulnerable, throbbing with newly awakened passion. Candy gasped as he 
flicked out his tongue and, beginning at her throat, snaked wetly downward 
to her tiny quivering nipples, licking tantalizingly in little circles. She 
had never experienced anything like it, and she loved it; it made her want 
to cry out with delight! 

Soon he had eased her back against the mattress until he was kneeling over 
her, his knees straddling her thighs, as he licked and bit gently at her 
soft breasts, driving the awakening teenager to a fever pitch of excitement. 
Little explosions of fire seemed to be taking place deep inside of her 
seeping vaginal passage, set off by the lustful teasing of his lips and 
hands. The rapidly responding fifteen year old squeezed her thighs together, 
as though to stop the deliciously forbidden sensations; but the pressure 
only seemed to increase the sharp thrills she felt. Excitedly she wound her 
arms around Kris's neck and pulled his face down onto hers, kissing him with 
all the untapped young passion of her body. 

With a bestial groan, the older man pressed his full weight down on her and 
began rocking to and fro. Candy realized, with a little shock of reality, 
that his penis was fully erect; for she could feel it pulsing against her 
aching pubic mound like a drum through his pants and her skirt, as he 
twisted and moaned above her. She knew she should stop, but she couldn't, 
she couldn't! It was love, wasn't it? Why should she be afraid? This was 
what she had dreamed about for weeks and weeks. Who cared if her step-father 
would be angry? She was going to live her own life, beginning now. With a 
cry of abandon, she clung to him even more tightly, crushing her naked 
breasts against his chest and grinding her hips against his with instinctive 
expertise. 

Suddenly he pulled away from her; and Candy saw, to her surprise, that he 
was suddenly taking off his suede jacket, and then hastily unbuttoning his 
shirt. 

"Oh, Candy, I want you so bad, baby," he said urgently. "So bad. And you 
want me too, don't you? Don't you?" 

For a moment Candy didn't know what to say. It was all happening so fast. In 
fact, she was startled when she realized that Kris was now unzipping his 
jeans, immediately revealing that he wore no undershorts; for the full 
throbbing thickness of his stiffly extended penis was soon exposed to her 
astonished eyes. For a moment she was paralyzed; for she remembered the last 
time she had seen a man's penis: her Uncle Tim's! The night when he'd.. . 

"Kris ... please ... " she began to protest as the now-naked man tried to 
remove her clothing, "I don't think this is right ... " 

But his ardor overran her objections; and soon the sex-driven song writer 
had deftly removed her sweater and bra completely, then unhooked her skirt 
and slipped it off until she was clad only in her loafers and white bikini 
panties. 

"Oh, you're so beautiful, Candy," he murmured, as his thick-lashed eyes 
roved over the soft cream-whiteness of her succulent body. The adolescent 
girl found her gaze riveted to her idol's muscular nakedness as well; and 
her aroused young body began to throb with insistent desire for him. In the 
next moment, all fears or thoughts of her uncle vanished as Kris eased her 
back again to the mattress and moved his hand down across the softly 
trembling plane of her stomach, and then slipped it inside the tight elastic 
waistband of her panties, edging toward her virginal pussy. 

"Touch my cock," he said urgently, "touch it. 

Curiously thrilled by his lewd command, Candy let her hand reach out and 
down until she found the quivering stiffness of his penis. Tentatively she 
touched it, astonished by the warmth and great size of his member; and at 
first she was afraid, for this was the first time she had ever touched a 
man's genitals. Meanwhile though, Kris had worked his way to the soft 
curl-fringed cleft of her vaginal lips, and the feel of his fingers there on 
her private flesh was driving her wild. 

"Ooooooohhhhh," she breathed, as he found the tiny bud of her clitoris and 
flicked it softly with his fingertip. "Oooooohhhhh!" She had never felt 
anything like it in her life! She had dated boys a few times, when she could 
get her uncle to agree to it, and she had petted a little, but nothing like 
this! It was wrong for her to let him do it, she knew, and wrong for her to 
be stroking his naked cock like that, even though it felt so wonderful in 
her hand, like something to be cherished. But if she didn't stop now, she 
knew she wouldn't be able to stop at all. In another minute she knew he 
would want to ...to... 

Suddenly she saw the face of her uncle flash into her mind again, and Candy 
began to struggle away from her probing idol. 

"I have to go," she gasped, forcing herself to an upright position and 
struggling to retrieve her clothes. "I have to ... really ... " 

Kris fought down his anger and annoyance with the girl, and decided that, 
despite his desire to fuck her senseless right now, he'd better play it safe 
and wait. After all, she was jailbait. 

"I understand," he said. He watched her hurriedly dress, and then began to 
pull on his trousers. "Will I ever see you again?" 

"I hope so ... if you still want to see me, after this... " 

"Oh, I want to see you," he said, pulling her to him for one last embrace. 
He kissed her fully and fiercely on the lips, and when he stopped, Candy was 
limp in his arms, gasping for air. 

"Kris," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, "I think ... I think I love 
you." 

 Chapter 3 

When Candy entered the front. door of her home a few minutes later, she was 
still radiant with the romantic afterglow of her meeting with the erotic 
young song writer. She closed the door behind her as, if in a dream, then 
leaned against it, remembering every exciting moment of her time with Kris 
Sherman. He was so tender and so gentle with her that the impressionable 
youngster thought he was practically the ideal man; and it was only the 
tiniest voice of fear that kept her from giving her young body to him that 
very day. He looked to desirable and attractive when she saw him totally 
naked in the back of his van, that the sensually awakening adolescent was 
flooded with feelings of warm wet desire in her loins, and chills of passion 
had rippled through her firm adolescent flesh. 

"Is this what it is to become a woman?" she wondered wistfully. "Is this 
what they mean by falling in love?" 

She was jolted from her euphoric daydream b y the phone ringing. Muttering 
with annoyance, Candy went into the living room and answered it. 

"Hello?" 

"Candy? It's Uncle Tim." 

His niece frowned, already sensing the suspicion in his voice. 

"I've been calling home for the past hour, honey," he continued. "Where've 
you been all this time?" 

Candy fought back a feeling of anger that began to churn in the pit of her 
stomach. He was checking up on her again, just as usual. 

"All we did was have a Coke, Uncle Tim," she said with irritation. "If you 
were so worried, why didn't you send the police over?" 

"Candy, you don't have to be snide. I just wanted to make sure you got home 
all right, that's all. I'm concerned about you - is that old fashioned 
nowadays? You're only fifteen years old, you know." 

"Yes, and you treat me like I was twelve." 

"That's enough of that, young lady! And would you mind telling me what you 
have been doing in the last hour since you left the coffee shop?" 

"Talking! That's all, just talking in his bus!" 

she snapped angrily. "Aren't I allowed to talk to anybody now without your 
written approval?" 

"Candy, I'm going to end this conversation here and now," her disturbed 
guardian said, lowering his voice. "I can't talk to you like this from the 
station. But I think we should have a long talk when I get home." 

"Maybe so," his niece said, beginning to sulk again. 

"I'm leaving early this afternoon, so I'll be home around five, all right?" 

"All right," she sighed. 

"Look, honey, believe me, I don't want to be hard on you. I just want to 
make sure you're careful, particularly with someone older, like Kris 
Sherman." 

"Mr. Sherman was a perfect gentleman, Uncle Tim," his niece said 
defensively, hardly conscious of her little lie. 

"I'm sure he was, darling. So let's not argue, okay? I'll see you at five." 

"Okay, Uncle Tim." 

"Bye-bye now." 

Candy hung up the receiver and sat down hard on the sofa, an angry scowl 
darkening her pretty features. Why does he always have to spoil everything 
like that, she brooded, always spying on me and treating me like a baby? The 
petulant young girl felt her uncle was a self-righteous hypocrite, always 
being a moralizing lecturer, making sure she only dated `nice boys', when 
all the time she had witnessed him, her own uncle and step father, forcing 
her poor Mummy to act like a prostitute for his selfish lust, forcing her to 
suck his penis! In that moment she almost hated Uncle Tim, and she wanted to 
run away from him and live on her own where she wouldn't have to endure his 
subtle tyranny and be a living witness to his shame. The frustrated 
adolescent wished she could run off with someone like Kris, and just live 
together like the couple in his song. 

"Oh, Kris, she whispered to his memory, "I hope you call me sometime soon. 
Please ... " 

* * * 

He did call, the following day just as Allen and his niece were finishing 
their Sunday dinner. 

"Kris?" Candy exclaimed, hearing the welcome sound of his voice when she 
answered the phone. "I was... I was hoping you'd call." 

"Yeah? Great. I been meaning to call ever since we met, you know. I'm not 
far from your place; how about if I come by ... we could talk about your 
lyrics." 

"Gee, that'd be great. Only ... I have to ask my Uncle Tim." 

"Think he wouldn't like it?" 

"Probably not." 

At that moment he called from the kitchen, "Who's that on the phone, Candy? 
Is it for me?" 

"No, it's for me," she replied. 

"Ask him," Kris urged from the other end of the line. 

"Okay ... I'll try. Just a minute." The eager teenager lay the receiver on 
the phone table, then went into the kitchen, trembling slightly, to speak to 
her uncle. 

"It's Mr. Sherman," she said. 

"What does he want?" her father asked, barely containing his immediate 
feeling of disapproval. 

"He wants to come over to talk about my lyrics." 

"Sweetheart, as I told you last night, I'd rather you didn't see him 
anymore. It's very nice of him to want to help you, and if he's nearby, he's 
welcome to drop by for a few minutes. But you've got to make clear to him 
that I feel you're too young to let this thing go any further. All right?" 

"I guess I don't have too much choice. Okay, Uncle Tim, I'll tell him." 

Turning coldly on her heels, the resentful youngster returned to the phone. 

"He says you can come by for a few minutes, but that's all." 

"Uptight, eh? Well, don't worry, baby, I've met his kind before," the young 
song writer remarked. "I'll be over in five minutes." 

Candy could hardly wait for him to arrive, and she stayed in the living room 
to avoid further conversation with her guardian. When he had come home from 
work the night before, he had told her he felt it best that she not see the 
young song writer anymore; and the crestfallen youngster had no choice but 
to accept it. But in her heart she was determined not to lose contact with 
Kris, and even had made secret plans and schemes to meet him without her 
uncle's knowledge. Now, at least she was going to see him again, if only for 
a short while, and her lithe young frame trembled with eager expectation. 

A few moments later the doorbell rang, and she ran to let him in. 

"Hi," he said, smiling warmly as he came into the hall. He was dressed again 
in his suede jacket and denims, and Candy could hardly keep from letting her 
bright brown eyes rove shamelessly over his muscular physique. "It's nice to 
see you again." 

"I was afraid you wouldn't call," she said shyly. 

At that instant, her uncle appeared from the kitchen. "So we meet again, Mr. 
Sherman." 

"Mr. Allen," Kris said pleasantly, turning on the charm, "glad to see you 
again." He extended his hand and Allen shook it, though without enthusiasm. 
"You know, your step-daughter is very talented." 

"I'm glad you think so. I'm very proud of her." He smiled affectionately at 
Candy, who glanced away icily. "Well, I know you two want to talk, so I'm 
going back to the den. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Sherman. Excuse me, 
won't you?" Then, after a slight warming glance to Candy, he went to his 
workroom, closing the door behind him. 

"I got the feeling he's not too keen on me," he remarked, as he followed the 
young teenager into the living room. 

"Oh, don't pay any attention to him. I hate him anyway." 

Candy settled into an armchair, while Kris settled himself on the sofa 
across from her. Immediately their eyes locked, and an electric shock of 
desire passed between them, making the young Allen girl shiver with sensual 
warmth. An involuntary spot of moisture seemed to be growing in the 
crotchband of her panties just from seeing him stare at her so hungrily. 
Kris too was already growing heatedly aroused once more, simply from seeing 
the nubile youngster, provocatively clad in skintight jeans and a snug 
fitting jersey. 

"I brought your lyrics back, the ones you gave me Friday." 

"Thanks," the thrilled young girl said, taking back the folded papers from 
him. For a moment their fingers touched, and a rush of heated passion began 
to blaze in Candy's loins. "Did ... did you like them?" 

"Very much, yes," then Kris dropped his voice to a whisper. "I want to see 
you again, Candy ... badly. Do you want to see me?" 

"Oh, yes," she replied in a hushed voice, "but ... my step-father ... he'll 
kill me if he knows I've been to see you." 

The amoral young song writer let a look of wounded disappointment register 
on his craggy face. Now he was determined to get into the desirable fifteen 
year old's pussy - in fact, he had been unusually affected by the naive 
young girl. Generally when there was the slightest difficulty with a chick, 
Kris preferred to drop the issue. Since his recent success, he had all the 
willing young cunt he could shove his compulsively active cock into. Yet 
this long haired teenager turned him on in a totally new way, almost as if 
she was the Julie of his song; and this fact seemed to make him want her all 
the more, despite the risk. She was so young, so naive, and her virgin flesh 
tempted him more than all the jaded pleasures of life in San Francisco. Yes, 
he wanted her, and he was determined to get her, no matter what. 

"He doesn't have to know, Candy. Make up an excuse, do anything, but meet 
me. Unless, of course, you don't want to ... " 

"Oh, I do ... I do," she cried. Kris had to motion with his hand to keep her 
voice down, so as not to alert her step-father. "But ... how? Where?" 

"The Pacifica Motel in Half Moon Bay. Do you know it?" 

"Yes ... it's not very far. Why?" 

"Meet me there, next Tuesday afternoon. Your old man works then, doesn't 
he?" 

"Yes, but he'll know if I don't come home." 

"Then work out an alibi. Throw him off the track. I want you so bad, Candy 
... " He let his hand drop down to gently brush his already throbbing cock 
beneath the confines of his dungarees. His lewd gesture, rather than 
shocking the love-sick teenager, made her thrill with excitement. All her 
overwhelming love and desire for him held sway over her consciousness now, 
and the fifteen year old wanted only one thing: to be with Kris Sherman, and 
to do anything he wanted! Her young vaginal flesh shivered with warm 
pleasure, and she could barely resist throwing herself into his arms right 
then and there. 

"I'll find a way," she whispered urgently, "I'll be there." 

"Good. Oh, that's great, Candy. Tuesday ... after four." He got up from the 
couch, smiling at her warmly, his smile all the more flashing because it was 
slightly irregular. "I better get going now, so your old man doesn't get 
suspicious. Don't say a word to him, okay?" 

"No," she replied, feeling very grown up, and relishing her planned 
clandestine meeting with Kris. "I won't tell him a thing. It'll be our 
secret." 

* * * 

The following Tuesday afternoon, right after school, Candy, true to her 
word, took the first bus to Half Moon Bay to meet the young song writer at 
the motel. She had made up a carefully planned excuse, telling Uncle Tim 
that she had to work all afternoon at her girlfriend Amy's house to paint 
posters for the upcoming Sock Hop. Her girlfriend had agreed to cover for 
her in case her guardian called to discover Candy's whereabouts. 

At first the love-struck youngster had found the idea very exciting, 
reveling in deceiving her hypocritical foster parent. Yet now, as she sat in 
the bus, riding towards her destination, she wondered if perhaps she wasn't 
being somewhat rash. Wasn't she practically jumping into bed with Kris? She 
had never been with a man before, that way, and although she was determined 
to be grown up, and though she desired Kris passionately; unexpected fears 
now made her grow somewhat apprehensive about her decision. 

She sat in the bus, clutching her school books tightly and wishing she had 
left them in her locker. She watched familiar houses and shopping centers go 
by on the road. After this afternoon, she knew that her whole life would be 
different. She would see things differently. She wouldn't be a child 
anymore; she would be a woman. Yet something inside her trembled in fear, 
wondering if perhaps she wasn't still too young to do such a thing. Was it 
worth defying her father, and taking such a risk to satisfy the desires of 
her heart and body? 

"Half Moon Bay," the bus driver called. 

Jolted suddenly out of her musings, Candy Allen got up from her seat and 
left the bus. Before her was a large, weather beaten neon sign saying 
PACIFICA MOTEL. Double Rooms Seven Dollars and up. COLOR TV. There was no 
turning back now. Moving towards the long single-story complex of motel 
rooms by the ocean, she noticed that the door to one of the rooms was open; 
and standing there was the smiling young song writer. Candy stopped and 
stared, her heart beating like a jungle drum in her chest. He was dressed in 
white jeans and a blue T-shirt. He motioned to her to come inside, and 
mustering up all of her courage, and forcing back her last minute anxieties 
and reservations, she smiled back at him brightly, and walked towards the 
room. 

"You made it," he said, shutting the door quickly as the fifteen year old 
girl came inside. "Great." 

"I ... told you I'd come," she said, out of breath from her run. "I hope 
nobody saw me." 

"Don't worry. You're safe. Sit down and get your breath." 

The pretty teenager sat down nervously on the edge of the double bed and 
glanced around. Her first impression of the rather cramped motel room was 
that it was drab and depressing. She had imagined a plush kind of room with 
a king size bed. Somehow the decor of the Pacifica Motel seemed cheap and 
tawdry, as if hundreds of couples had used it for just the same purpose as 
they. 

"Nervous?" he asked, sensing her disappointment with the room and her 
general anxiety. "Don't be scared. And don't let the room get you down. It 
ain't the Mark Hopkins, but it'll do." Although his tone was gentle and 
friendly, inwardly the sex-driven song writer was hungry to thrust his 
lust-stiffened penis up inside the teenage girl's tight little pussy. Seeing 
her dressed in her school clothes - a shirtmaker blouse, and a short pleated 
skirt - inflamed him with desire even more. Nice little thing, he thought 
lasciviously to himself, nice fuckable school girl. Good mornin', little 
schoolgirl. His potent cock began to swell in his jeans, and thrust 
insistently against his thigh, urging him to get on with it. 

But Kris knew instinctively that he'd better go a bit slow, especially since 
this was, he knew, the girl's first time. Later, well, he had some 
interesting notions in mind; but for the present, he decided to play it 
super cool. 

"You ... you'll have to tell me what to do," Candy murmured shyly, her eyes 
staring down at the stains on the carpet. 

"First thing," he said gently, "is come over here and give me a little hello 
kiss." 

Smiling like a vulnerable little lamb unknowing of the slaughter, Candy 
slowly rose from the bed and walked toward Kris. Her brain reeled with a 
mixture of elation and terror. She wanted him, yes, more than anything else 
in the world; and the trembling fifteen year old felt that her body was 
practically on the verge of melting into liquid; her vagina was already 
pulsing with expectation and insinuating heat. Yet she knew that this was 
one of the most important moments of her life. She was about to give her 
innocence away to someone she had only known for a few days! 

Maybe it was wrong! Maybe she was making a dreadful mistake. But it was too 
late now; there was no turning back. She stood hesitantly before the young 
man she loved, bewildered and afraid, not knowing what to do. Glancing up, 
she saw Kris's eyes glittering with passion, and felt herself being 
encircled by his arms. 

"Oh, Kris ... Kris," she breathed softly, "show me... show me how to love 
you.. . !" 

Her lust-driven boyfriend didn't need any further urging; and he drew her 
into a warm embrace, holding her soft young body close to his, while ripples 
of passion began to surge through his muscular physique. His impulse was to 
immediately tear off her clothes and fuck her savagely, but he held back. He 
knew that it was important, this first time, to take it slowly. If he was 
too rough, it could ruin it for the girl, and scare her away. He didn't want 
that, for he knew that once the naive creature was completely smitten by 
him, he could get her to submit to anything. But for the moment, gentleness 
and patience were the most suitable approach. 

Restraining his raging lust, therefore, the scheming song writer drew Tim 
Allen's step-daughter closer and kissed her long and slow on the mouth, his 
tongue forcing itself between her lips and plunging deep into her mouth; 
while his hands stroked her back and wound gently in the shining tendrils of 
her long straight hair. 

Candy closed her eyes and returned his kiss. She still felt frightened, but 
also thrilled, more deeply thrilled than ever before. Her heart beat faster 
and faster, and the force of her long-repressed passion surged to the 
forefront of her consciousness, overwhelming her with its provocative 
strength. She knew she would surrender to it completely. 

As if in a dream, she felt Kris's hands begin to unbutton her shirt, and she 
shivered slightly as he removed both it and her bra and flung them aside. 
Her young breasts were naked now; and her pink nipples tightened on contact 
with the cool air into hard little buttons. Even though she had been almost 
completely naked with Kris that one time before, she felt oddly embarrassed; 
and she even blushed as the aroused song writer pulled back to let his eyes 
rove lustfully over the feast of her naked pubescent breasts. 

Kris, growing hotter by the minute, cupped the round, pink-tipped mounds in 
his hands and began kneading and squeezing them softly, sending waves of 
heated desire through the innocent young girl's seething loins. Her 
still-virginal pussy throbbed uncontrollably, almost aching with warmth, and 
she moaned quietly as Kris took her nipples between his thumbs and 
forefingers, pressing them tantalizingly and making them stand out even 
farther. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she sighed luxuriously as her amoral lover began to nip and 
suck lightly at her quivering nipples with his lips. "Kris ... that feels so 
nice ... sooooooonice ... " 

The erotic song writer was becoming equally excited as he slavered 
passionately over Candy's naked breasts. The knowledge that within a few 
moments his eagerly straining cock would be driving upward into the wet 
softness of her young cunt acted as a potent fuel to his obscene desires. He 
was rapidly consumed with the need to possess this fifteen year old creature 
totally, to make her a slave to his whims of the flesh; and the thought 
filled him with a sharp sense of raw, powerful masculinity that made his 
penis swell larger and throb keenly in the crotch of his white jeans. 

Pulling back momentarily, he stripped off his T-shirt. 

"I want to see you naked," he whispered urgently to the still-frightened 
adolescent. He reached out and undid the clasp to her pleated skirt and 
lowered it. Leaving it bunched around her ankles, he immediately slipped his 
hands into the elastic waistband of her blue bikini panties and pulled them 
down too. Finally he removed both garments, so that the breathless young 
girl stood completely naked in the shadowy light of the seedy motel room. 

Candy felt transfixed in some kind of strange fantasy as she watched her 
lover strip himself naked. Slowly he removed his jeans and boots while his 
eyes kept returning hungrily to the triangle of curling brown hair that 
nestled at the juncture of her slender creamy-white upper thighs. Candy 
thought Kris looked almost like the statue of the discus thrower that she 
had seen a photograph of in her world history book. And when he stood before 
her completely naked, her young eyes could not help roving shamelessly over 
his muscular body. 

His massive penis, charged with desire, stood thickly erect from the dark 
tangle of his pubic hairs; and the adolescent girl gasped as she saw it once 
again. For the first time she was aware of its enormous length and girth; 
and she wondered fearfully if she could ever take it up inside her virginal 
little vaginal passage. At the same time, however, it exercised an 
overwhelming hypnotic fascination on her, and she stared at his throbbing 
rod of male hardness and at its forward thrust. She noticed too the sac of 
his testicles beneath, soft and swollen from his excitement. 

Kris pulled back the covers of the double bed, then moved to Candy, taking 
her hand gently and leading her toward the bed. 

"Don't be afraid," he whispered, "everything's going to be fine." 

"I .. . I trust you," she replied in a voice barely audible. "I trust you." 
The anxious adolescent trembled from the mixed emotions that reeled through 
her mind. She wanted him, yes, but she also wanted now to run away. She 
wanted to cry out in fright, to beg Kris to wait. Perhaps she would be more 
prepared some other day. It was too soon, too soon ... 

But Candy remained mute as her sex-driven boyfriend eased her down onto the 
cool sheets of the bed, then lay beside her and drew her nakedly quivering 
body against his, then crushed his full sensual lips over hers, smothering 
any last minute protests she may have summoned. Taking Candy's tongue in his 
mouth, he sucked hard on it; and the thrilled girl thought it would rip from 
its moorings. Despite her fears, keen sensations of lewd desire rippled 
through her, and with a little cry, she began to clasp his nakedly tight 
body with her exploring hands. 

Kris, enjoying his easy success with the desirable teenage girl, obscenely 
slid his palms up and down over the sleek smoothness of her rounded hips and 
squeezed the resilient mounds of her buttocks with passionate intensity. 

Still holding the kiss, he worked his hand slowly down between Candy's legs, 
searching with his fingers for the tight little entrance to her vaginal 
passage. Tim Allen's adopted daughter felt herself stiffen slightly with 
fear as his finger worked between the hair-fringed cushions of her pussy 
flesh and began to gently explore her cuntal split. 

"Take it easy," he whispered encouragingly, "just relax, baby, it's all 
okay." 

With determination, he forced her thighs slightly apart and placed his palm 
directly over her heatedly throbbing pussy entrance. Then, stiffening his 
middle finger, he began to insert it slowly up into her innocent flesh with 
a little circular motion so as not to hurt her. Inwardly he exulted, knowing 
he was about to deflower this tempting piece of teenage ass. He would be the 
first and, he thought, perhaps the most influential lover she would ever 
have. The plotting song writer chuckled obscenely to himself, relishing the 
sense of power his conquest provided. Her young pussy was already moist with 
creamy expectation, although her muscles involuntarily tightened, as if 
subconsciously trying to expel the intrusion of his eager finger into her 
innocent passage. 

"Uuuuuuuunnnnngggghhh," she moaned, flailing her head from side to side. 
Undeniably his finger motions caused certain painful sensations as it 
stretched the tender membrane of her virginity and inched up into her 
vaginal softness; but it was wonderfully pleasurable too; and the 
inexperienced adolescent was torn with conflicting sensations of pain and 
desire as he rotated his middle finger up inside her cuntal interior, gently 
widening the thin hymen that still protected her virginal innocence, 
guarding the door to her most private treasure. 

"How does that feel, baby?" he asked lewdly, licking his tongue wetly over 
her naked neck and shoulders, savoring the unmistakable signs of heated 
response from the lewdly aroused young teenager. "Does it feel good? It 
feels nice, huh?" 

"Oh ... oh, yes ... yes... " she replied in steadily rising passion. She was 
lying somewhat; for although she was undeniably aroused by his lustful 
activity, she still experienced moments of pain and fear. Candy tried her 
best to surrender completely, wanting desperately to please Kris and make 
her dream of love come true. She dug her fingers into the naked flesh of her 
shoulders and tried to relax into his obscene caresses, even though she had 
to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Hot thrills of pleasure shuddered 
through her nakedly excited young body, as the savagely determined young 
song writer continued his lewd finger-fucking. 

Sensing that the moment had come, Kris withdrew his finger from Candy's 
wetly pulsing vaginal slit. He himself was nearly overwhelmed with lust, and 
the teenage girl gasped when she saw the passionate glaze in his eyes. It 
was almost frightening, the way he looked; and her mouth felt suddenly dry 
as, leaning forward and supporting himself on one hand, the lust-fired song 
writer gripped the rigid column of his stiffly erect cock and placed it at 
the entrance to her trembling young pussy. The exposed cock-head, much 
thicker than his probing finger, strained against the tight membrane that 
guarded her vaginal opening; and instinctively, with little mewls of alarm, 
the adolescent drew back. Kris, however, gripped her shoulder and held her 
in place, then fell forward on her body, pinning her in place with the force 
of his weight. Reaching down between their closely pressed bodies, he again 
grasped his eager cock and pressed once more in between the fearfully 
pulsating lips of her cunt. He could feel the virginal membrane of her 
hymen, already stretched by the lustful probing of his finger, giving way 
slightly. 

"Kris ... no ... I'm not ready ... I'm afraid ... " 

"You're ready, baby. Believe me, you're ready." 

In the next instant the blonde-haired song writer flicked his hips forward 
and the huge bulbous tip of his penis penetrated her cuntal entrance at 
last, tearing her hymen as it plunged far up inside her resisting vaginal 
depths. 

"Aaaaaaannnnngggggghhhhh!" Candy wailed as searing pain coursed through her 
nakedly splayed body. It hurt badly, more than she had anticipated; and in 
response, she began to struggle against him, trying to wriggle out of his 
tight embrace. But Kris was not about to let her get away; and ignoring her 
cries and moans, he lunged forward again. And suddenly he was all the way 
in, undeniably thrust past the torn membrane, the thick hot log of his cock 
sunk deeply up into her helplessly quivering vagina. 

Although the no-longer-innocent adolescent still winced in pain, she found, 
after a few minutes, that having his lust-swollen male hardness imbedded 
inside her pussy wasn't so bad. In fact, it made her feel strangely full and 
complete, the way it throbbed warmly within her tight cunt. She had never 
felt anything like it before. 

Soon Kris began to push forward a little, then draw back, then push in 
again, each thrust taking him deeper and deeper into the awakening girl's 
tight pussy. He reveled in the tightness, for her cuntal flesh gripped his 
thickly erect cock like a vise, and he could feel every ridge of her rapidly 
moistening vaginal canal pressing against his blood engorged member. He knew 
she was beginning to respond with spontaneous lust; and he began to increase 
the intensity of his lunges. 

Candy began to moan softly, like a bewildered young animal, half crying, 
half laughing. Her brain still reeled in alarm, for despite her resolve to 
go through with it, unexpected pangs of guilt tore through her brain. After 
all, she was giving away her virginity to him, and the pain of it had 
shocked her out of the romantic day-dream she had constructed around her 
meeting with, the attractive song writer. Still her body, operating with a 
need of its own, was growing more and more passionate by the minute; and 
soft thrills of undeniable desire began to ripple through the teenager's 
ravaged young pussy. Her skin tingled from head to foot, as every inch of 
her adolescent young body began to awaken to the pleasures of the flesh. 

"Oooooohhhhhh," she sighed as her eager lover lunged roughly up into her now 
nearly-drenched pussy with his thickly rigid penis, "oooooohhhhhh ... it 
feels so good ... oh, Kris ... Kris... " 

"Yes ... yes," he grunted back, "I told you, baby. Come on, fuck.me back. 
Let go and fuck me back!" 

His obscene order seemed to act like an explosion of dynamite on the young 
brunette's fears; and suddenly, with a cry of rapture, she submitted fully 
to his animalistic assault. A wave of unrestrained, obscene passion tore 
through her hotly writhing adolescent body, and she gripped his naked 
shoulders, holding tightly, gasping for breath, as the torrid copulation 
began to mount. She had never felt so wonderful in her entire life; and now 
finally free of all last-minute reservations and concerns, she allowed her 
mind and body to respond without restraint to Kris's hungry fucking. 

Sensing her abandon, Kris's muscular body became charged with brutal 
strength. The teenage girl was crying out now like some adolescent whore, 
moaning in delight with her first knowledge of sex. She began to wildly 
writhe her gleaming tan young body beneath his sweat-dampened physique with 
a near-delirious excitement. Her long tapered legs kicked out wildly on 
either side of her amoral lover's hotly lunging body, and she cooed in utter 
happiness. 

"UUUNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH...I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!" 

Her abandoned outcry renewed Kris's sense of savage passion, and he began to 
fuck her faster and faster, reveling in the moisture-drenched wetness of her 
submissive pussy, his breath coming faster and faster, his eyes bulging with 
barbaric pleasure. His roughly swinging balls began to tighten and swell 
with white-hot cum, and the lust-driven song writer knew his orgasm was not 
far off. 

Holding him tightly, Candy groaned wildly, nearly incoherent from the force 
of the titanic burst of heat that tore through her deeply thrilled young 
flesh. Wave after wave of dizzying delight sizzled through her, beginning 
with the hot sunburst of passion in her newly-ravaged pussy and spreading 
like the spokes of a pinwheel to every part of her adolescent body. Suddenly 
the intensity built to unbelievable heights, and her cuntal walls began to 
palpitate as if suddenly struck by bolt after bolt of lightning. She knew, 
then and there, that she was cumming! CUMMING WITH A MAN FOR THE FIRST TIME 
IN HER LIFE! 

"I ... I ... I'm cumming," she gasped, hardly believing her own excitement, 
I'M CUUUMMM MMMIIIINNNGGG!" 

In response, Kris groaned like a wounded bull and bucked into her with 
machine-gun thrusts. He too had reached the pinnacle of orgasm; and the next 
instant found him shuddering from head to foot and suddenly jetting thick, 
heavy streams of scalding hot semen into Candy's eagerly clutching cuntal 
flesh. On and on it came, as the two young lovers, an adolescent girl and a 
sex-compulsive song writer, cried out in lewd response to the galvanic 
pleasure they shared. 

Finally their passion began to ebb as the last of Kris's urgent cum drained 
into the steaming flesh of Candy's formerly virginal cunt; and soon he 
withdrew his softening rod from its drenched depths, and collapsed on the 
bed beside the softly trembling body of the fifteen year old girl. For a 
long time neither one spoke. Candy was absorbed in the sweet rapture of the 
S afterglow, while the obscene song writer reveled wearily in his triumphant 
deflowering of the tantalizing adolescent. 

"Oh, Kris," Candy murmured at length, "it was wonderful ... just wonderful 
... " 

"I'm glad, baby," he replied. "It was great for me too. Next time it'll be 
even better." 

The next time? Candy thought to herself. Somehow, in her young mind, she 
hadn't even thought about a `next time'. Wasn't it all over now? Like the 
movie, when `The End' flashes on the screen and the two lovers live happily 
ever after? She realized now that there was more to come; and the 
impressionable fifteen year old wondered, with a mixture of elation and 
anxiety, what would follow. If this first experience could be so wonderful, 
what unimaginable excitement yet lay in store for her? 

"Yes," she whispered to him, snuggling closer on the bed, "next time ... 
next time ... " 

 Chapter 4 

Now that she had become initiated into the mysteries of sex and was no 
longer a virgin, the pretty fifteen year old became totally enraptured with 
the insensitive song writer. The only thought that occupied her mind, day 
and night, at home and at school, after that memorable afternoon at the 
Pacifica Motel, was to once again see Kris Sherman and know again the 
thrills which he alone could give her. It had been agreed between the two of 
them that it would be best for Candy to contact her new lover at his 
apartment in San Francisco, always telephoning from a pay phone so that her 
foster father wouldn't discover any mysterious message units on his 
telephone bill and suspect her clandestine activities. In fact, it was about 
a week later that Candy called the song writer, right after school on 
Tuesday afternoon. 

"Hi, Kris," she said warmly as he answered the phone. "It's Candy." 

"It's nice to hear your voice, honey. How's everything going?" 

"Fine, just fine." 

"Your uncle doesn't suspect anything between us, does he?" 

"No, I'm sure he doesn't. He's been very busy at the station. He says that 
since your appearance, he's had to have lots of meetings with possible 
advertisers." 

"Great! That's what I like to hear. You know, I've really missed you, Candy 
... I mean, that was some great time we had the other day, wasn't it?" 

"Oh, yes," the naively captivated adolescent answered breathlessly, "It was 
wonderful." Tim Allen's newly awakened niece felt her young body tingle 
excitedly, just speaking to her lover. She couldn't wait to be with him 
again, to see his glisteningly naked body towering over her, looking like a 
fantastic Greek god. Her mind reeled with almost obscene images of the 
sensual song writer and she ached to feel his hotly swollen cock slip 
thickly up inside her receptive teenage pussy once again. 

"I've been thinking about you a lot, Candy. Know what I mean? Especially at 
night when I'm all alone in bed. I really wish you could come here to my 
place. We could have such a great time." 

"Oh, I want to, really. In fact, I have an idea!" 

"Yeah?" Kris was delighted. He was eager to fuck the luscious teenager, but 
especially so, if she made it easy. 

"I'll get tickets to a theatre matinee for Saturday, for me and my 
girlfriend. But I'll come to see you instead. My uncle won't suspect a 
thing, I'm sure of it." 

"Baby, you are the greatest. Next Saturday, huh? That's great. But call me 
before you come, just to let me know it's all clear, okay? I'll give you the 
directions then." 

"Sure. I'll call on Thursday after school." 

"Great. I can't wait, baby. I mean I'm already getting hot just thinking 
about it! Know what I mean?" 

Candy was thrilled and titillated by his words. Somehow she found it 
fascinating and very grown up to be talking so freely about sex with her 
older lover. She was startled to note a tingling warmth growing down between 
her legs, deep in her newly initiated vagina; and the sex-eager adolescent 
almost ached to see Kris again right then. Saturday seemed months away. 

"Yes ... I ... I feel the same way ... just like you do ... " 

"Terrific," he said. "I'll wait for your call ... meanwhile you be a good 
girl, right?" He laughed with an almost strange kind of insinuation that 
Candy was not sure how to take. But she chose to interpret it .as his way of 
saying that she was his girlfriend and shouldn't show an interest in other 
boys. 

"Okay. Goodbye, Kris. See you soon." 

"Yeah. Take care, honey." 

After leaving the phone booth Candy walked home in a dream. It was all so 
magical, too incredibly wonderful that she thought she must be the luckiest 
girl in the world. The fifteen year old felt extremely `mature' now that she 
was actually having an `affair' with a famous song writer. In fact it was 
almost hard for her not to act superior with her girlfriends at school, 
because they seemed so childish to her now, giggling about boys and sex. Of 
course, she couldn't tell them what had happened. Only Amy, her closest 
friend, knew anything at all; and that was only because Amy had agreed to be 
the alibi in case her uncle got suspicious. But Candy took an almost 
condescending attitude with the disbelieving school chum, when she informed 
her that she was `seeing' Kris Sherman, the best-selling song writer, and 
that he was interested in helping her. Amy had willingly agreed to be a 
party to the long-haired girl's schemes, finding it thrilling to be in on 
something so exciting. And she too had been enthralled by With a single 
rose. 

As she got close to her home, Candy began to whistle happily, wanting to 
skip down the street like a little girl and toss her school books in the 
air. She felt so very mature and yet newborn at the same time. Life was 
unbelievably good; she was going to see Kris again on Saturday. Her 
stepfather didn't remotely suspect anything and assumed that Candy was 
obeying his orders not to see the handsome blues composer again. He was busy 
at the station too and did not notice the emotional changes his 
newly-deflowered little girl was experiencing. 

"I'm in love, I'm. in love, I'm in love with a wonderful guy," she sang 
loudly, surprising even the next door neighbor who was partly deaf. 

* * * 

"Oh, Uncle Tim," Candy gushed at dinner later, "the most terrific thing has 
happened. Amy got two tickets for Kiss me, Kate, this Saturday's matinee, 
and she asked me to go with her. It won't even cost anything. Can I go?" 

"Kiss Me, Kate, eh? Lord, have they revived that oldie?" her warmly smiling 
uncle replied. "Sounds like a lot of fun. I've half a mind to go myself." 

Candy paled momentarily, but managed to keep her smile glued to her face. 
Oh, how she hoped he would change his mind! Oh, please God, no! It would 
ruin everything! 

"Gee, that'd be fun if you could come along," she finally managed to say, 
"but ... but Amy's got only two tickets." 

"That's okay. And I really can't afford to take the day off. Lord knows, 
I've got it coming, after all the time I've put in with prospective clients 
since our friend, Mr. Sherman, came around." Tim's niece sat tensely, 
growing uncomfortable at the mention of her illicit lover's name, and hoping 
desperately that her step-father wouldn't join her on her trip to San 
Francisco on Saturday. 

"But don't worry," Tim chuckled quietly, reaching out to squeeze his niece's 
hand affectionately. "I won't spoil your day. I'm sure you and Amy won't 
want an old fogey like me on your hands." 

"Oh, that's not true, and you know it, Uncle Tim," his relieved niece said, 
smiling. "You sure don't look like an old fogey." 

Although she said it spontaneously, and only to make conversation, Candy 
realized with something of a shock the truth of what she was saying. Most 
men his age, like her girlfriends' fathers, were paunchy and tired-looking. 
But her adopted parent was slim, well-built, and very handsome. His 
twinkling eyes had a strength and a life to them, and an undeniable 
sensitivity, which his observant step-daughter had never seen so clearly 
before. They had both been unusually relaxed that evening; and now, watching 
him relaxing in the kitchen chair, sipping his evening coffee, his striped 
shirt open, his tie askew, his graying hair slightly tousled, Candy was 
astonished to realize something: she had something of the same feeling for 
her Uncle Tim - at that moment, at any rate - that she had for Kris Sherman- 
For a brief moment, the pretty fifteen year old almost thought her heart had 
stopped; for this unusual realization took her completely off guard. Her 
step-father, her own uncle for whom she had felt nothing but contempt 
recently, actually - attracted her. 

You're being ridiculous, Candy, she cautioned herself. Ridiculous - and 
stupid. Yet, as she continued to watch him as he leaned back and began to 
reminisce nostalgically, she found herself staring at him in newfound 
fascination. Not as a niece or a step-daughter, but as an awakened young 
woman. 

"You know, Candy," Allen said, lighting a cigarette, "Your mummy and I used 
to go to the theatre quite often when you were young. Mostly musicals, too. 
She loved musicals. In fact, she wanted to be a dancer when she was a kid 
... but she couldn't because of her ... her delicate health. I remember 
seeing Kiss Me, Kate just after it opened with Alfred Drake." 

"Wunderbar, Wunderbar, we're alone and hand in glove," Candy sang jokingly, 
yet vividly aware of the irony that she had been singing that old song 
earlier, and thinking about Kris. 

"Yeah, that's it ... I'm surprised you even know about it, but we loved that 
then ... seems so long ago now ... " 

Tim Allen glanced away, and watched through the kitchen window as twilight 
settled over the stereotyped houses that characterized Daly- City, 
California. It had been so pleasant that night, talking with his daughter so 
easily. It was the first time in many months that they had communicated, and 
the meloncholy foster parent was relieved and grateful. 

Yet remembering his teenage years with his now dead wife cast, once more, a 
dark cloud on his mind, and he found himself growing restless. He knew only 
too well that he had been very hard on Candy lately, and the reason was 
often due to the stubborn, frustrating restlessness that had plagued him 
since his wife's death. 

Momentarily, he let his eyes fall on his pretty fifteen year old niece. How 
fragile she looked, sitting across the table from him. Yet somehow tonight 
she seemed oddly more mature, more of a young lady with her dark brown hair 
falling straight in contrast to her softly featured face. Tim leaned 
forward, caught by her appearance, struck that there was a womanliness about 
her that he hadn't noticed at all before. 

"You're growing up, Candy, aren't you?" he asked quietly, gazing at her with 
an odd sort of intensity. 

"Yes, Uncle Tim," she replied, "I am." 

"You know, the funny thing is that we were talking about old songs, and the 
way I was just feeling makes me think of Gigi and the line, `Have I been 
standing up too close or back too far?' " 

But it was undeniable, and the wondering uncle was startled further when, 
gazing gently at the image of his . young niece wearing her tight-gitting 
T-shirt that outlined the soft, brassiere-clad roundness of her breasts, 
there was an unmistakable stirring of warmth in his loins, a slight aching 
in his testicles. 

"You're almost a ... a woman now," he continued. His penis stirred lazily in 
the crotch of his trousers and began to stiffen in small lurching movements; 
yet Tim Allen was hardly conscious of any of this, still enthralled as he 
was by the awareness that his niece, of sorts, was growing up before his 
very eyes. "Look, honey, I'm going to try to make things up to you. Maybe we 
can start all over again. Think so?" 

"I ... I hope so ... I think so ... " Suddenly Candy had to get up from the 
table and turn away. "Gee, I've got some school work to do for tomorrow. 
Good night, Uncle Tim." 

"Good night, honey." 

Trying to smooth over the abruptness of her departure, Candy kissed him 
quickly on the cheek and ran upstairs. She hadn't wanted to run out like 
that. Her uncle had seemed surprised, but not hurt by it. But she just 
couldn't stay. For a reason she didn't understand, she had felt almost as if 
she wanted to reach out and hold him, even ... even kiss him. But that was 
wrong, ridiculous! Why, she had even talked about running away from home 
before! Suddenly now she was totally bewildered by a strange new emotion 
toward the man she called Uncle Tim, who by two cruel blows of fate had 
become her only parent. 

Entering her room, Candy fell forward onto her bed, burying her face in the 
soft pillow, her shoulders shuddering as she burst into tears. Not wanting 
him to hear her unexpected sobs, Candy pressed her face deep into the 
pillow, muffling her tearful gulps. 

"Oh, what's wrong with me?" she murmured confusedly to herself as she lay 
still a few moments later. "Dear God, what's wrong with me?" 

* * * 

The following Saturday, Kris Sherman was busily preparing for the desirable 
post-pubescent girl's arrival, hastily cleaning up his large expensive 
studio apartment on Russian Hill. The high-ceilinged room which was painted 
in off-white had once been the master bedroom of a much larger apartment 
built at the turn of the century when the area had been even more luxurious. 
Later, however, it had been divided into smaller apartments, each of which 
had a personality of its own. Wide windows looked out onto San Francisco 
Bay, but the sunlight could be filtered out when desired by a series of 
contemporary louvres. Another wall had a large, ornate fireplace which still 
functioned, and which had become an integral part of Sherman's seduction 
procedure. He had seen to it that the fire was well on its way to romantic 
embers before he had removed the rum bottle from the well appointed bar 
which occupied the third wall and mixed himself his first rum and Coke of 
the day. 

"Mmmmmmmm," he sighed, swallowing a large gulp, "can't wait for my sweet 
teenybopper to get here." He hoped that it wasn't true what he had heard 
people say, that it's a sign of old age when you start going for the young 
ones! Then he returned to his haphazard dusting of the mantle which was 
filled with autographed photos of scantily clad girls, most of them with 
affectionate inscriptions. 

His only attire was an expensive pair of French print silk bikini underpants 
which served as his `at home' outfit. Nearly naked, he continued his 
cleaning, straightening the velvet bedspread that covered the enormous foam 
rubber mattress that was the apartment's only other furniture, save for the 
low bookshelves that lined the walls. Whistling a song of his own 
composition, he picked up a few plates, remnants of a hasty dinner the 
previous evening, and deposited them in the sink of the tiny kitchen. 

"Wow, I'm horny already," he murmured to himself, turning on the hot water 
over the dishes. Accidentally splashing some of the water onto himself, he 
yelped and jumped back from the sink. Cursing under his breath, he brushed 
drops off his naked legs, abdomen and chest. "Shit! " 

Grabbing a towel, he dried himself, laughing at himself as he swabbed the 
pouch front of his underwear. His highly charged sexual state was so 
intense, waiting for the arrival of the sex-eager teenager, that as he 
rubbed himself dry, his penis was already beginning to swell hungrily, and 
his balls were throbbing with lewd expectancy. 

"God damn," he said aloud, "I haven't had a case of blue balls like this for 
months now. Mmmmmm, what I need is more underage pussy. Nice juicy cunts to 
stick my prick up!" 

Chuckling to himself, he returned to the fireplace to have another swallow 
of the drink he had left there. Drinking deeply, he shivered like a frisky 
stallion from the combination of the potent alcohol and the warmth of the 
fire, and his tight muscular body bristled with raw male heat. 

He thanked his lucky stars for the day he decided to stop trying to write 
serious classical music and start making a fast buck turning out calculated 
pieces of pop crap. The results of his labors had produced With a single 
rose; and from that point on, the money had come rolling in, as had the 
women. Overnight success brought the startled but willing song writer all 
the female attention he could handle - starting with bored agents' wives, 
then female music critics horny themselves and in need of excitement, and 
finally whimpering teenage fans who identified so readily with his dewy-eyed 
heroines. 

And Kris was determined to enjoy every minute of it. He felt he had 
struggled long enough with morals and poverty; from now on, it was going to 
be booze, kicks, and women; in no particular order. He wanted it all, and 
going to get it while he could. Tragically, he was unaware of the toll his 
new-found sensual greed was taking on what had been the more human, gentle 
aspects of his nature. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Kris knew that 
his latest conquest had arrived. 

"Just a second," he called, going to the stereo and turning on the record of 
Julie which he had already placed on the turntable. 

Meanwhile, waiting at the door to Kris's apartment, Candy Allen stood 
nervously, clutching her small handbag, out of breath from her walk up 
Russian Hill. She was dressed in a snug knit dress of beige wool that 
emphasized her closely set breasts and slender abdomen, then flared softly 
around her slim legs. She wanted to be darling that day; and so she had left 
the buttons open in the front, just far enough so that the tantalizing 
cleavage of her surprisingly mature breasts flashed enticingly beneath. She 
had pulled her straight hair up into a simple chignon, to make herself 
appear a bit older, especially with the addition of green eye shadow and a 
rather deep shade of lipstick. 

Fashionable platform shoes of brown leather completed the outfit, and Candy 
hoped that Kris would find her even more attractive now, more of a woman 
than a schoolgirl. Yet her fingers were cold as ice; for she knew that if 
her uncle knew what she was doing, he would be outraged. At that moment, the 
door of the apartment swung wide, and she was startled to see her 
uninhibited lover standing in nothing but a strip of print silk. 

"Hi, baby," Kris greeted her, a lewd smile playing on his lips. "Come on 
in." 

Although momentarily taken aback by his strange appearance, Candy was 
nonetheless thrilled to be with him again, and as she slipped past him into 
the apartment, she could feel her stomach churn with excitement. 

"How are you, Kris?" she asked in a trembling voice, when he released her 
after a warm welcoming kiss that made her melt inside with hot arousal. 

"Great. Say, you look terrific, you know that? Really great." 

"Thanks," she replied in a low voice, blushing slightly and turning away. 
Then she became aware of his apartment, and of the carefully chosen piece 
playing on the stereo. "So this is where you live?" 

"Yeah. A bit better than the Pacifica Motel, but not what I really want. I'm 
keeping all my money in the bank until I can buy a nice hunk of land - know 
what I mean?" 

"I kind of like it," Candy said as she walked around the large, room, 
glancing at the new surroundings. She was fascinated to be in his apartment, 
for it was the first time she had ever been in a single man's apartment in 
her life. Though it was elegant in a way with its thick shag carpet that 
seemed a continuation of the off-white walls, the uncertain adolescent was a 
little confused by what she saw. There were non-objective paintings on the 
walls which she didn't understand at all, and the photos of the obscenely 
smiling women on the mantlepiece seemed in poor taste. 

"How about a drink, Baby?" Kris suggested, picking up a glass from the bar. 

"Oh ... gee, I don't know. I never really drink, except ... " 

"What?" the amoral writer laughed. "Never?" 

Candy felt a bit more uncomfortable, and she wondered for the first time if 
she was doing the right thing. "Well, a little bit of wine ... but my 
step-father wouldn't like ... " 

"Your step-father? Well, hell, baby, your step-father's back in Daly City 
where he belongs, so let's drink up." He filled a glass half full of rum and 
added some Coke. "Here, take this. It's a Cuba Libre." 

"I ... I don't know if I should." 

Suddenly Kris seemed to lose his patience; for he began to glare somewhat 
angrily at Candy, and his tone of voice changed. "Christ, baby, one little 
drink won't kill you. What are you so afraid of?" 

"I'm ... I'm not afraid of anything," she replied, somewhat astonished, "but 
I don't think ... " 

"That's right, baby, so don't think. Stop being hung up on your old man and 
drink. Unless you're too scared ... " 

"No, no," she protested, not wanting to appear stupid or unsophisticated in 
his eyes. "I'll ... I'll drink it." 

"Great. I knew you would. Here." 

Struggling to regain her poise, the nervous teenager took the glass from him 
and sipped. It was the first time she had tasted rum, and the strong taste 
was hot in her throat, even diluted with Coke. It made her lithe young body 
shiver; yet she was determined to show Kris how grown up she was, and she 
smiled at him, pretending to be really enjoying it. 

"It's good," she said, trying not to stare at his nearly naked body. She 
couldn't understand why he wore that silk bikini; and though she reasoned 
with herself that she was just a kid and shouldn't be so naive, the 
bewildered adolescent couldn't fit what she saw into the romantic image she 
had created about the handsome young song writer. She wondered if she hadn't 
let herself in for much more than she bargained for; if perhaps, Kris 
Sherman was not the man of her dreams. The thought was unnerving, and she 
pushed it away. Of course, he was. They were in love, weren't they? Hadn't 
he said so? 

"Mmmmmm, listen to that. That's our song," her lover said, as he began to 
move and flex his body sensually in time to the sound he had created. 
"That's your favorite, isn't it?" 

"Yes, but I ... I like With a single rose and All About Alice and ... " She 
proceeded to name every band on his hit record. 

"Sounds like I'm the only song writer you ever heard of," he laughed 
sarcastically. 

Hastily, Candy took another swallow of the Cuba Libre, trying to resist her 
feelings of embarrassment. Kris was making her feel like a stupid little 
girl, and the confused fifteen year old didn't understand why. He had always 
been so kind and considerate with her; but now, now that she was actually in 
his apartment and at his mercy, he was behaving thoughtlessly to her, and in 
a way she found a little frightening. 

Yet she also knew she was much younger than he was, and she certainly didn't 
want him to think she was afraid of him or the way he lived. It was their 
love that was important, wasn't it? Maybe there were things she didn't like, 
but that was normal, wasn't it? At bottom, wasn't it only her immaturity and 
innocence that made her feel this way? Candy decided to silence her doubts, 
and do her best to have a wonderful time with Kris, to be the willing pupil 
to his teachings. 

Kris sprawled on the bed, his hand quickly gabbing hold of his silk-covered 
genitals. "Okay, now baby, let's have a little lesson. First of all, let's 
get out of that smashing dress of yours. I want to see you naked, okay? 
Besides, it gets me horny to see a girl strip. Come on, Candy ... " 

The shocked adolescent gulped in fear as she realized he wanted her to take 
her clothes off right in front of him like a ... like a prostitute!! 

"Scared again, baby? Sweetheart, you may as well go back to Daly City if 
you're gonna get so uptight with me ... I mean, you know we're adults; 
you're not at Disneyland. Maybe I made a mistake, maybe you're too young to 
... " 

"No," she interrupted suddenly, "I'm not too young, Kris! I'll show you ... 
watch me!" 

Determinedly, the long-haired teenager began to slowly undo all the buttons 
of her dress. Her eyes shone with a determination to show her lover she 
could compete with any woman, even if she was only 'fifteen. The earnest 
teenager tried to smile provocatively in what she imagined was a seductive 
look, while she slowly lowered her dress from her slender adolescent body. 
Kris whistled appreciatively when she finally removed the dress, his eyes 
roving over her glistening young skin as she stood in the shadowy light of 
the room dressed only in her brassiere, panties, and high heels. 

"Keep going, baby, you're doing great," the song writer encouraged lewdly, 
taking another swallow of his drink. 

Candy's brain was beginning to reel from the effects of the unaccustomed 
liquor which were making her grow slightly dizzy and numb. Yet she was only 
barely conscious of the change in her condition; for she concentrated 
completely on performing the sensual tasks Kris requested. Forcing herself 
to smile as best she could, she reached behind her back and unhooked her 
bra, letting it fall over her softly curving shoulders so that her unusually 
large, pink-tipped breasts fell free. 

Kris cheered and took another swig as his eyes drank in the sight of the 
lushly swaying mounds of flesh that quivered and bobbed enticingly once the 
tight brassiere was off. Discarding the garment, Candy stood before her 
almost drunken lover, swaying in time to the soft music; and she slowly 
cupped her small white hands under the pear-shaped resilience of her firm, 
young breasts. She lifted them, squeezed them slightly, at the same time 
pursing her lips into a seductive `kiss me' pout, as she had seen on the 
covers of mens' magazines. 

"Great, Candy," Kris cried, laughing and rubbing the crotch of his silk 
underpants to stimulate his lurching penis into tightly straining hardness. 
He watched hungrily as Candy let her hands slide down along her naked flesh 
until she reached the narrow elastic waistband of her panties. Inserting her 
fingers into the elastic, she began to lower the nylon garment over her 
softly rounded teenage hips and buttocks, bending forward as she did so, so 
that her throbbing young teenage breasts fell gently forward. "Fantastic, 
baby," he called to her as she began to lose herself in the strange, obscene 
behavior he forced on her. "Take'em off." 

She stepped daintily out of her panties, discarded them, and then kicked off 
her shoes. The potent drink had made the unaware fifteen year old slowly 
lose her inhibitions, especially with the help of her uninhibited boyfriend, 
and she was growing giddy with sexual excitement, both from the rum and the 
sense of delicious wickedness that performing the strange strip-tease gave 
her. Despite her initial disappointment, and even distaste, for Kris's odd 
behavior, she now found herself growing sensually aroused by all of it; for 
her young vagina was growing damp with erotic wetness, and her skin began to 
tingle with warm pleasure. 

It thrilled the impressionable adolescent doubly when the promiscuous song 
writer encouraged her; and she seemed pleased by her own obscene behavior. 
In fact, as she grew more and more tipsy, his strange behavior seemed less 
and less vulgar. It even excited Candy when he behaved so perversely, and 
made her do devilish things; for her sensual lover seemed to be calling up a 
dark, lurid side of her own personality that she never knew existed. She was 
completely naked now, standing obscenely before the huge mattress on the 
floor where Kris sprawled, staring up at her lewdly exposed body with 
rapidly mounting lust. 

"Now spread your legs so I can see up inside that sweet little pussy of 
yours," he ordered her in almost drunken excitement. The long-haired 
adolescent, determined to shake off a spontaneous shiver of anxiety, did her 
best to please him. She thrust her pelvis forward and spread her young legs 
wide so that he could see her nakedly glistening cuntal split. "Wider," he 
commanded, growing greedy with the power he had over the defenseless young 
girl. "Pull your pussy lips apart with your fingers, baby, so I can see all 
the way up to your tonsils." 

The anxious fifteen year old swallowed hard at his crudeness, then spread 
her legs wider apart. Placing her trembling fingers at the fluted pink edges 
of her obscenely exposed vagina, she slowly separated the hair-fringed outer 
lips so that Kris could gaze fully at the throbbing slit of her baby-soft 
cuntal flesh. 

"You've got a real nice cunt, Candy," he said in alcohol-sodden admiration, 
as he began to slowly remove his tiny garment while staring fixedly at her 
naked pink vaginal opening. The soft music continued to accompany the 
sensuous spectacle taking place in the song writer's bachelor apartment. 
"Now, turn around," he added as he slipped off his scanty covering, tossed 
it aside, then hungrily gripped the eagerly swelling thickness of his cock 
with his left hand. "Take a look at yourself, Baby." 

The startled teenager turned and suddenly found herself face to face with a 
narrow floor-length mirror; and for the first time she saw what she looked 
like. She could scarcely believe the obscene image that was staring back at 
her from the mirror. Her brown eyes opened wide as she gazed in astonishment 
at her nakedly quivering breasts, the nipples already contracting into two 
tight little buds. Then she glanced downwards over her smooth white stomach 
to the shamefully naked mound of her sparsely lined young cunt, pulsing 
warmly with a life of its own. Her dark brown hair hung limply around her 
shoulders, and she blushed from head to toe as she realized that at that 
moment she almost looked like a gutter tramp, an adolescent vamp ready to 
service the sexual demands of the man with whom she had fallen hopelessly in 
love. 

Despite her resolve to be `grown up', to do as Kris asked and prove she 
wasn't just a naive little girl, the vulgar sight of herself in the mirror 
made a wave of unaccountable shame ripple through her naked young body. 
Maybe my Uncle Tim was right, she realized with a jolt, maybe I shouldn't be 
doing this! 

But she had no time to reflect further on this; for Kris had gotten up from 
the bed, hypnotized by her luscious young nakedness, and had pressed his own 
nude body against her from behind. His lust-hardened penis lurched hungrily 
against the soft roundness of her buttocks, while his hot hands snaked 
around her upper torso and began a lascivious caressing of her voluptuously 
trembling teenage breasts. Sliding one hand down over the virgin smoothness 
of her belly, he slipped it up between her legs, his middle finger lewdly 
searching for the button of her adolescent clitoris, while his lips and 
tongue slithered hotly over her naked young neck and shoulders. 

Despite her persistent sense of shame and fear, Candy could not tear her 
eyes away from the obscenely riveting image in the mirror. She was both 
fascinated and repelled at the sight of her defenselessly nude body, which, 
until that first afternoon with Kris, had never been revealed to anyone - 
and certainly not like this. But still, there was something undeniably 
thrilling about standing stark naked while the cruel, blond song writer 
covered her with burning hot kisses. His strong hands squeezed her lush 
breasts mercilessly, teasing the erected nipples until serpent-like 
sensations of pleasure coiled through her flesh, despite her youthful 
nervousness. And there was something about the obscene image in the mirror 
that once more awakened the primitive lusts deep in her unconscious, lusts 
that began to rise in irresistible waves, breaking through her anxiety and 
turmoil. 

At that moment the sensual author pressed his middle finger on the sensitive 
button of flesh hidden deep in the crevice between her parted thighs. 
Involuntarily, the disheveled youngster tried to tighten her legs against 
his obscene intrusion, but it was no use, for he expertly pressed the fleshy 
pad of his finger-tip down on her clitoris, making the warm fires burning in 
Candy's little pussy begin to glow with maddening intensity. She moaned in 
spiraling passion as a stab of heated desire ricocheted upwards through her 
quivering belly and breasts. 

Now using both hands, Kris spread her tender, hair-lined pussy lips wide so 
that her naked clitoris stood out rigidly erect like a tiny penis, while he 
continued his tantalizing stroking of the area until his tickling was almost 
unbearable. Then he began worming the middle finger of his other hand into 
the tight wet oval of her cuntal mouth. The lewdly driven writer could feel 
the smooth, wet walls of her recently deflowered vaginal passage encircling 
his finger as he wormed it slowly up inside. 

"Aaaaaalihhlihnnnnn!" Candy cried in slight pain, as his finger moved 
relentlessly up into her sensitive, almost virginal inner flesh. "It hurts! 
Oh, Kris, please, you're hurting me." 

"Yeah, that's because your little pussy is so nice and tight. Just the way I 
like it. Relax, baby, the best is yet to come." 

Sadistically, he began working yet another rigidly extended finger up into 
her tightly protesting cunt, spreading the two of them inside her like 
scissors and stretching the elastic-like muscles wide. Then he began slowly 
plunging them in and out, each stroke taking !aim farther and farther up 
into her cringing young vaginal depths until his fingertips touched the 
tender cushiony surface of her cervix. He was pleased to feel her young 
feminine moisture beginning to flow freely, stimulated by the steady pumping 
of his hands. 

At the same time, his young teenage admirer felt her discomfort begin to 
change into subtle twinges of pleasure; and she could not restrain herself 
from twisting her pelvis wantonly and forcing his rigid fingers even more 
deeply up inside her while his hot blood-filled cock throbbed hard and stiff 
against her roundly jiggling buttocks. The youngster felt as if her body was 
beginning to operate now totally out of her control, and was responding to 
Kris's obscene demands as if it had been waiting patiently for something 
like this to happen. A rush of heat rippled through her body; and in 
ecstasy, her legs gave way beneath her, and she began sliding to her knees, 
supported only by her sex-hungry lover's fingers inside her feverishly 
contracting pussy. In perfect synchronization to her movment, Kris lowered 
himself behind her, and then removed his moisture-drenched fingers from her 
vaginal depths as the lust-weakened girl fell forward onto her belly on the 
lush carpet, her breasts crushed against the thick pile as she gasped for 
breath. 

The sight of the abused, half-drunken girl trembling helplessly with arousal 
on the floor of his apartment acted on the twisted song writer's mind like a 
powerful stimulant. Gripping the massive girth of his heavily throbbing cock 
in his hand, he leered down at her nakedly quivering buttocks. His brain was 
feeling with obscene thoughts, and for a moment he was tempted to fuck her 
in her virgin little asshole, nestled so invitingly there between the soft 
mounds of her whitely glistening ass-cheeks. But he thought better of it. 

He had already put the naive girl through quite a bit of his own particular 
brand of kinky sensuality; and he knew if he went too far, he could easily 
drive her away. No, this appetizing hunk of adolescent flesh was too 
precious a gift for him to risk losing so soon. Take it slow, he reminded 
himself, and there'll be plenty more later. Right now his cock was burning 
to get up inside of her tight pink cunt and fuck her shitless. The mere 
thought of it was driving him half-mad with desire. 

"Kneel up on all fours, baby," he commanded. The sound of his lust-thickened 
voice reached Candy's ears like a distant rumble. Her mind and body, 
weakened by alcohol and heated to the boiling point by unleashed sexuality, 
was numb to reason or sanity. She was his slave now, his submissive toy, and 
the helpless teenager struggled up into the slavish position, willing now to 
do whatever she was told, wanting only to please this strange young man who 
dominated her emotions and held sway over her bodily impulses. Surely he 
could see that she was mature and sophisticated; not shocked by his obscene 
lusts. Like a dumb, but hopeful young puppy, she raised herself on her hands 
and knees and kneeled there with her buttocks high in the air behind her in 
complete submission. 

"Fine, baby, you're doing just great," Kris said as he leaned down and 
gripped the pliant. flesh of the degradingly positioned teenager's whitely 
quivering buttocks, forcing them higher up into the air until they were 
right where he wanted them. "Now squirm your ass around, Candy, get me real 
hot. Tell me you want me to fuck you." A new torrent of shame overcame the 
confused young brunette at his lurid command. But she was determined to 
please him, and so she squirmed lewdly in place, spreading her legs wide and 
wiggling her buttocks and the soft, hair-lined fringes of her cunt back at 
him in an obscene invitation to fuck her. 

"Louder! Like you really want it! Because you do, don't you? Don't you?" The 
agonizing teenager realized that she did want him to fuck her; in fact, her 
hotly pulsing body demanded it, no matter what inner reservations she still 
clung to. A wave of overwhelming desire for the bizarre older man surged 
through her, and she could no longer fight the inevitable. 

"Yesss," she groaned finally, the never-before-spoken words pouring out in a 
torrent from the young girl's quivering lips, "I want you to fuck me ... 
fuck me!" She shut her eyes tightly and hot tears of shame came unexpectedly 
out of the corners to pour down her flushed cheeks. Was that her voice 
pleading so lewdly? What would her step-father think if he knew she was 
doing such terrible things? 

"Tell me you want my prick in your cunt. Say it now!" Kris ordered, half-mad 
with power over the vulnerable teenager. 

"I ... I want your ... your prick ... in my cunt. Yes.. . YESSSSSSS! I WANT 
YOUR PRICK IN MY CUNT!" 

Ecstatic with delight over her tumultuous response, Kris quickly positioned 
himself behind her, kneeling in between her legs and placed the pounding 
head of his lustily swollen member at the seeping entrance to her 
backward-proffered young pussy. Candy shivered with lurid expectation as she 
watched in the mirror, bracing herself for what was to come - the second 
fuck of her whole life! Somehow her obscenely shouted cries had oddly freed 
her from the last of her anxieties. She no longer cared if her father found 
out what was happening! She had to free herself, to become a woman, not a 
sniveling little girl! And now she wanted him more than anything in the 
world. Oh God! She wanted him to fuck her from behind! 

"Aaaaieeee!" she screamed as he suddenly plunged his hard, lust-thickened 
penis deep into her tightly clasping cuntal sheath, sliding it in to the 
hilt with one cruel, hard-thrusting lunge that sent her hurtling forward. 
His sperm-bloated testicles bounced luridly against the backs of her 
firm-fleshed adolescent thighs as slowly he began to fuck up into her 
upraised cunt, stroking his pulsating cock in and out, making a lewd wet 
sluicing sound that kept time with the soft drum beat coming from the stereo 
speakers. 

Nothing satisfied Kris more than the abuse and ravaging of helpless-in-love 
teenage girls, the younger the better; for it increased his sense of raw 
male potency, and provided fuel to the dark side of his compulsive sensual 
nature, which, since his astonishing financial success, had daily grown more 
demanding. Brutally screwing the helplessly kneeling girl from behind 
excited the amoral song writer as nothing had for a long time; and he licked 
his lips with lewd relish as he plowed upwards into her widespread vaginal 
flesh with long, buttock-flattening strokes, reveling in the surge of 
masculine strength that tore through him with each battering lunge. 

"Uuuuuunnnnngggghhh," the tortured girl groaned as hot flickers of savage 
passion began to ripple spontaneously through her newly awakened young body. 
It seemed to her that her ravaged flesh actually craved the cruel fucking he 
was giving her, craved it from the depths of her being, craved even the 
shame of being forced to watch his heavily burgeoning cock pistoning in and 
out of her in the full-length mirror. "Ooooohhhh," she mewled, animal-like, 
as warm, urgent pleasure began to envelop her hungering body. An 
irresistible pleasure began to envelop her hungering body. An irresistible 
passion gnawing deep within her cock-ravaged cunt drove the wanton teenager 
nearly incoherent with pleasure, and she watched the lewd image in the 
mirror, her eyes wide with familiar thrills. 

She dug her knees down into the plush carpet and gritted her teeth as 
overwhelming, blind lust rippled in heat waves through her helplessly 
responding body. Unconsciously, her smooth, white, nakedly upraised buttocks 
began to move back to meet Kris's merciless strokes, while the music filled 
her brain, driving her on, out of her conscious control, into a maelstrom of 
sexual feeling that the uncomprehending teenager had never even imagined 
existed. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of Kris's sinewy, 
sweat-drenched body squirming and twisting into her from behind, taking her 
to excruciating heights of pleasure as her young loins churned with 
newly-discovered lust. 

` ` O o o o o o o o h h h h , K r i s ! KKKRRRIIISSSSS!" she wailed 
deliriously, "FUUUUCCCCKKKK MEEEEEEE GOOOOOOOODDD!" 

"Go, Candy, go! FUCK ME BACK WITH YOUR HOT LITTLE PIECE OF TEENAGE PUSSY!" 
he roared back like a sex-crazed stallion. He began to fuck her mercilessly 
now, while the demoniacally aroused young adolescent wailed and bucked 
beneath him. 

Candy babbled and groaned incoherently, carried away by the bestial force of 
her copulation. She wanted it to go on forever; and yet at the same time, 
she was hungry to experience the mind-shattering release she knew was 
coming. Forgotten was her sense of shame and guilt, forgotten was her uncle 
and her fears about his reaction if he should discover her sinful 
disobedience. All she cared about was the delicious throbbing in her 
lust-battered pussy as she plunged her quivering buttocks backward to 
receive each thrillingly deep blow from Kris's mercilessly lunging penis. 
Her cuntal depths were drenched with moisture now, and throbbed incessantly. 

Her sex-and-alcohol-glazed eyes were transfixed at the sight of their 
obscenely locked bodies in the mirror, like two mindless beasts, copulating 
with all their strength. Suddenly her body was racked with new, even more 
galvanic thrills, intense beyond belief, and the lewd adolescent knew 
instinctively that she was approaching the torrid peak of their wild union. 

Kris's passion was also mounting rapidly. His lust-tightened balls swelled 
with boiling sperm as they slapped lewdly against the delirious adolescent's 
quivering thighs. His hotly swollen cock shuddered wildly as the moment of 
his orgasm drew closer. 

And suddenly he was there! His strong, muscular frame jerked spasmodically 
as he jetted his thickly scalding semen deep up into Candy's hungrily 
milking cuntal depths. Wave after wave of white-hot cum spurted from his 
massively throbbing cock-head, making him feel triumphant, like a Barbarian 
chieftain at the moment of victory. 

Simultaneously, Candy felt herself opening, opening unbelievably like a hot 
sunflower, her white young belly filled almost to the bursting point by the 
force of the older man's hotly jetting male sperm. 

"Oh, God!" she moaned. "Oh, God, don't stop. I' m ... I'm cumming, 
cccuuummmmmminnng!" 

A thrilling inner earthquake rumbled in her fifteen year old pussy, and she 
was carried away by the force of it, able only to groan and wail like some 
incoherent animal. Blindly and wildly she fucked back onto his 
blood-engorged rod, her vaginal muscles eagerly sucking and grasping it, 
drinking and coaxing up into it every delicious drop of his scalding male 
seed. Their two naked bodies rocked together for what seemed like hours, 
until finally Kris's penis relaxed into limp flaccidity inside her 
semen-drenched cunt. He withdrew from her slowly, her young vaginal depths 
still shuddering hotly from the overwhelming climax, and rolled over, 
exhausted, on the floor. 

Candy fell forward in a heap on her belly, and for a few moments neither of 
them moved. The fifteen year old girl could scarcely believe what had 
happened to her. She had cum for only the second time in her life with a 
man, and under circumstances that would normally have shocked her totally. 
Yet despite her anxieties about Kris's strange behavior and demands, she had 
experienced something so fantastically pleasurable that she could only 
wonder at the power of it as she lay breathless and still hot with passion 
on the carpet of his studio apartment with all of San Francisco Bay at her 
feet. 

"Not bad, Candy," her lust-driven lover remarked. "You learn fast, you know 
that? Real fast." 

Pathetic little cunt, he thought to himself, but nice all the same. And only 
fifteen. Mmmmmmmm. 

 Chapter 5 

The next few days passed for Candy as though she were in a dream. Her 
thoughts were constantly on Kris Sherman and the extraordinary experience 
they had shared in his apartment on Russian Hill. Her eyes had a faraway 
look most of ,the time, as she went over and over in her mind every instant 
of their frenzied fucking. Although there had been things about it that had 
shocked and stunned her, she put them aside, preferring to linger lovingly 
on the memory of the potent new feelings that Kris's obscene demands had 
awakened in her. 

For although she didn't fully understand it, she was rapidly becoming 
enthralled with the bizarre sexual world she had stumbled into by her 
meeting with Kris Sherman. Julie ... Julie ... the words echoed in her brain 
with hypnotic repetitiveness, blocking out whatever stirrings of conscience 
or common sense she still clung to. All she had to do was reflect on the 
feeling and the mirror-reflected sight of Kris's blood-thickened penis 
pistoning up into her excitedly hot cunt from behind to become completely 
consumed with warm feelings of sensuality that blocked out all other 
considerations. Wasn't it proof of their very special love, after all, that 
she didn't even need to be near him to become aroused at the thought of 
their lovemaking? 

They had planned to meet again the following weekend, so it was with some 
surprise that Candy answered the phone on Wednesday morning just before she 
left for school and heard his voice on the other end. 

"Kris?" she whispered in disbelief, keeping her voice low so as not to 
attract the attention of her uncle, who was sipping his coffee in the 
kitchen. "What is it? Is anything wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong, Baby," he replied. "I just wanted to tell you I'm coming 
down today to the motel. Can you get away? Don't say no, 'cause I've just 
got to have a little more of what you gave me on Saturday. I mean I just 
can't wait." 

"Who's on the phone, Candy?" Tim Allen called out. 

"It's ... it's just Amy," Candy lied quickly. "She wants me to bring a book 
she loaned me to school today." 

"Quick thinking, Baby," Kris congratulated from the other end. "Now tell me 
you can meet me this afternoon - about three, okay?" 

"Gee, Kris, I don't know. I'll have to cut my last class and I may have a 
test. I don't know if I can get away." Nervously she began doodling on the 
message pad by the phone. 

"What's the matter, Baby? Don't you want to see me?" 

"Of course I do, more than anything in the world. It's just that I don't 
know if I can miss that test." 

"Baby, life with me is full of surprises. You'll just have to get used to 
it." 

Candy's heart thrilled at his words. Life with him! The romantic girl could 
hardly believe he had actually said it. In her mind, that could only mean 
one thing. Kris loved her. He wanted to spend his whole life with her! And 
that was what she wanted too, more than anything. She had to prove to him 
that she was grown up enough for his kind of life, no matter what the risk! 

"All right," she consented. "Where will I meet you?" 

"Same place - Pacifica Motel, Room 8. And Baby, I've got a little surprise 
for you today, so don't be late." 

"A surprise? What is it?" 

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, would it?" he teased. 
"Just be there this afternoon, and you'll find out." 

"I will, and Kris, I ... I love you. I'll do anything you want, always, you 
know that?" 

Her lover laughed darkly at her words, and almost felt a twinge of guilt. 
"I'll keep that in mind, baby. Gotta run now, see you later." 

Before Candy had a chance to reply, he hung up; and the stunned youngster 
replaced the receiver in its cradle and stood staring dreamily at the wall. 

"Come on, Candy, get moving," her uncle's voice interrupted. "You'll be late 
for school." 

"I'm coming," his niece replied, pouting a little at his authoritarian 
manner. Then she grabbed her books and followed him out the door, not even 
realizing that in her agitation, she had absent-mindedly scrawled on the 
message pad, Pacifica, No. 8, 3 o'clock. 

* * * 

Just before three that afternoon, she was on the bus that would take her to 
her destination. As the lumbering vehicle crawled past stop after stop, 
Candy found her heart beating faster and faster, both with anticipation at 
seeing Kris again, and also with uneasiness. For Amy hadn't been at school 
that day, and she'd had no opportunity to set up an alibi in case her 
step-father got home early. She'd just have to get home before he did, 
unless ... 

Her mind could barely encompass the thought that had been haunting her ever 
since Kris's phone call. Supposing the surprise was that ... that he wanted 
her to run away with him, now, today? Just the way Julie's lover changed his 
mind in the song. Mentally she rehearsed the conversation she might have 
with him, how he would look as he asked her, and how she would melt lovingly 
into his arms as she gave her answer. Her mind filled with romantic images, 
she practically flew off the bus and across to the Pacifica Motel, directly 
to the room where his van was parked. 

To her surprise, however, there was no answer when she knocked. After 
knocking a second time, she tried the door, found it unlocked, and slipped 
inside. The room was empty, but from the things scattered around, she could 
tell that Kris had been there. 

Then her eye was caught by a note lying on the pillow. "Candy," it read, 
"I've gone out for drinks. Be right back. Wait here. Kris." 

Reassured, Candy decided to take advantage of her lover's absence to freshen 
up after the long day at school. She went into the bathroom and turned on 
the light. Immediately she stopped, surprised. Spread out on the back of the 
sink were cosmetics: lipstick, mascara, some eye shadow, and a small 
atomizer of perfume. Someone else was here with Kris. A woman! 

Stunned, Candy stared in disbelief. Kris hadn't told her anything about 
this! Who could it be? Puzzled, she went back into the. bedroom. Now she 
noticed that the bed was unmade, as though it had been slept in. At first 
she had just assumed Kris had taken a nap while waiting for her to arrive; 
but now, the unmade bed took on another possible significance, one that made 
her heart almost stop. Had Kris been in bed with someone else? No! No, it 
couldn't be! But looking around, she saw a silk scarf, and on the floor on 
the far side of the bed, some nylon panty hose! 

Before she had time to react, however, the door opened and Kris came in. 
Behind him were two others, a thin man who seemed to be in his late 
twenties, and a tall voluptuous young woman with black hair. 

"Hey, Baby," Kris grinned, coming over to her and lifting her off her feet 
in a hearty bear hug. "I thought you'd be here when we got back!" He planted 
a warm wet kiss on her mouth, worming his tongue inside and running his 
hands over her thinly clad young breasts. She wiggled out of his grasp, 
embarrassed at being so intimately caressed in the presence of two 
strangers. 

"Hello," she whispered, blushing and scarcely knowing where to look. The two 
strangers were watching the scene with amusement, their eyes roving frankly 
over the ripe curves of Candy's body. Seeing her glance in the direction of 
the door, Kris hastened to make introductions. 

"Candy, this is Earl and Greta," he began, slipping his arm around her 
confused shoulders and allowing his hand to slip all the way inside her 
blouse and brassiere so that his warm fingers closed around the soft flesh 
of her naked breasts. "They're the surprise I told you about. I told them 
about you, and they just didn't believe you were real, so I told them to 
come and see for themselves." 

"How ... how do you do?" Candy said shyly. What did Kris mean, `see for 
themselves', she wondered? And what was it that they didn't believe? 

"Hey, Candy, real nice to meet you," Earl replied, looking her over. He was 
a short thin man with curly hair, clad in a pair of tight corduroy pants and 
an old turtleneck sweater. There was something frightening to Candy about 
the way he looked at her; and his smile seemed cruel. But if he was Kris's 
friend, she would do her best to be nice to him, although she had to fight 
to suppress her disappointment that the surprise Kris had told her about was 
not what she had imagined. 

She then turned to greet the black haired woman Kris introduced as Greta. At 
least she was relieved that her momentary suspicions about Kris were 
unfounded. Greta must be Eddie's girlfriend. For the first time, Candy 
allowed herself to look openly at the newly arrived female, and she had to 
admit she was very glad to know the older woman wasn't a rival, for she was 
stunningly attractive in a way that made Candy feel very conscious of her 
own youth and naivete. She had short hair that was perfectly set, and she 
was wearing the shortest pair of shorts the naive teenager had ever seen. 
They set off her long tapering legs to perfection and hugged her hips and 
buttocks so tightly that they pressed right up between her legs, and Candy 
could clearly see the outline of the two fleshy cushions of her outer 
vaginal lips. Over the tight shorts, she wore a man's work shirt, knotted 
obviously unencumbered by any brassiere; for Candy could see the dark shadow 
of her nipples, and the way the two fleshy mounds jiggled when she moved. 
Greta looked to be in her mid-twenties, and when she spoke her voice had 
just a tinge of condescension. 

"Well, well, well, Kris," she purred, taking Candy's hand and gazing at her 
frankly. "So this is your little teenage sex queen. You were right about one 
thing, she certainly is pretty." 

Then, to Candy's surprise, the sultry brunette leaned over and kissed her 
directly on the mouth! She pulled back, scarcely knowing what to do, looking 
for Kris for guidance. 

"But I don't think she's as hip as you said," Greta concluded a little 
disdainfully, releasing Candy's hand. 

"What do you mean?" Candy asked, frowning at the older woman's tone. 

Greta was about to answer when Kris interrupted. "Keep your pants on, Greta, 
and let me handle this," he ordered, drawing Candy over to the bed and 
pouring her a ready-mixed daiquiri from a can on the nightstand. Feeling 
unnerved by the strange events, Candy drank it, almost without realizing 
that it wasn't lemonade, grateful for having something to do to still her 
trembling hands. 

"What's going on, Kris?" she asked softly. "Who are these people?" 

"I told you, Baby, they're friends of mine." 

"But why did you bring them today?" 

"I told you, I was telling them about you, and how you were a swinger and 
all, and they didn't believe me. They said you must be a square little 
teenybopper scarcely out of diapers, so I decided to bring them along so you 
could all meet each other, and we could have a party." 

"A party?" 

"Yeah. Instead of just you and me this time, I figured the four of us could 
make it. You know what I mean?" 

"No," Candy replied. "I don't think I do." 

Greta and Earl laughed shortly, but Kris silenced them with a glance. He 
began to caress Candy's shoulders with his hands, running his powerful 
fingers sensuously over her arms and neck as he continued to speak. 

"See, it's a little hard to explain, and maybe it'll shock you a little, but 
when you see how important it is to me, I think you'll understand. See, Earl 
and Greta are my friends, and they think I'm making a big mistake getting 
involved with you because you're so young. But I told them you're not like 
other girls, you're different, no hangups... " The smooth talking songwriter 
stroked Candy's body as though he couldn't take his hands off her. All the 
while, he was looking soulfully into her eyes as he spun the web of lies he 
had prepared to draw her even further into his sexual snare. 

From the sidelines, Greta and Earl watched with barely concealed amusement 
as Kris's voice droned on; and the naive teenage girl gave him her rapt 
attention. Christ, Greta thought, I haven't heard a line like that in years! 
Mentally she decided to make note of it, so she could use it at some later 
date when she herself was trying to get some ripe little piece of teenage 
ass into bed. After what Kris was saying wasn't entirely untrue, except that 
what she and Earl had greeted with disbelief the previous night, after a 
long session of mutual sucking and fucking, was the notion that any girl in 
this day and age could be as hopelessly naive as Kris's description of Candy 
indicated. But judging from what they had seen so far, he was right. The 
child was incredible. Well, Greta didn't mind that. The thought of getting a 
taste of that lush and underage cunt was enough to make her overlook a lot 
of things. And Kris had promised her that she would have plenty of 
opportunity to indulge in her favorite sexual fancies this afternoon. The 
girl would do anything he told her to, he had assured them. Now, as she let 
her eyes roam lazily over Candy's ripe young body, Greta found herself 
hoping he was right, though from the worried frown that was wrinkling the 
girl's pretty features, she wasn't so sure. 

" ... so I brought Greta and Earl along. I took the risk," Kris's voice went 
on earnestly, "so we could show them, in bed, where it really matters, that 
what we have is really special." 

Candy's mind reeled from the things her older lover was telling her. 
Apparently he wanted ... wanted her to let him make love to her, with his 
two friends watching, or even ... even to let them make love to her too! 

Her mind recoiled in horror at the suggestion. She couldn't believe that 
Kris would ask such a thing of her. It' was incomprehensible. Doubtfully, 
she looked at the other three people in the room. Kris was working his hand 
up her leg, under her skirt, and Earl was openly massaging the thick bulge 
in the front of his pants. Greta ran her pink tongue over her lips as her 
gaze met Candy's and she looked lasciviously up and down her body. Candy 
felt faint, both with the realization of what her lover actually wanted, and 
with the effect of the alcohol. This wasn't the romantic love affair she had 
dreamed of! This was dirty and depraved! It seemed that her whole dream 
world had suddenly fallen. 

"No!" she suddenly burst out, twisting away from Kris and burying her head 
in her hands, fighting down sobs of heartbreak. "I ... I can't do it! It's 
terrible!" 

Kris looked at her in feigned disbelief and disappointment. "No?" he asked 
softly, pulling her hands away from her face and looking deeply into her 
eyes. 

"What did I tell you, Kris?" Greta taunted, getting to her feet, picking up 
her cues and beginning to take an active role in the proceedings. "She's 
just a dumb young kid out for a few kicks, something to write in her diary 
before she settles down with an insurance salesman. You're wasting your 
time." 

Candy could feel hot tears pouring out of her eyes at the older woman's 
taunting words. It wasn't true! It wasn't! Surely Kris didn't believe that, 
not after all they had enjoyed together. 

But to her surprise, her lover got up from the bed, looking sadly down at 
her, and began to gather up his things. 

"I guess you're right, Greta," he murmured with feigned despair. "She's just 
too young ... " 

Suddenly Candy felt a flood of anger break loose. What kind of power did 
those two have over Kris anyway? All at once it began to fall together in a 
pattern she could understand; for she was too far committed to the older man 
to even consider that she was being cooly exploited for purely sexual ends. 
No! It must be his friends. They had led him into a cruel, twilight world of 
degeneracy. That was the world he was trying to escape, through her! She was 
sure of it. She couldn't abandon him now! He needed her, needed her young 
love to free him from the mysterious grip of these two degenerates. Why else 
would he look so sad and downcast as he heard the refusal? 

The idea seemed to clarify everything Candy hadn't been able to understand 
before ... Kris's strange, almost cruel sexuality, his bizarre demands. He 
needed her to show him there really was another world, the world of his 
songs, the gentle romantic world that flowed from his music like liquid 
honey. She had to save him, and she would! She couldn't abandon him to the 
clutches of people like Greta. If he believed them, perhaps ... perhaps he'd 
never write another song! 

"Wait!" she cried, stopping them at the door. "Kris, I'll ... I'll do 
anything you want. I ... I love you!" 

The three exchanged looks, unseen by Candy, and then Kris came back to the 
bed. 

"Atta girl, Candy," he cooed triumphantly. "I knew you wouldn't let me down 
in front of my friends." 

Dimly she wondered why he didn't reply that he loved her too, but she had no 
time to dwell on the thought; for suddenly her lover was on the bed beside 
her, unbuckling his belt and kneeling behind her, pulling her backwards so 
that her head was cradled on his lap, while his hands reached down to 
unbutton her blouse. Leaning over her, he kissed her hotly on the lips, 
inserting his tongue into her mouth and circling it lewdly around over her 
lips and teeth. Candy felt the familiar hot thrills begin to course through 
her young body, and she lifted up so he could undo the clasp of her bra and 
slip it and her blouse down off her shoulders. 

Now her entire upper torso was naked, and his hands seized the two 
quivering, pink-tipped mounds of her breasts and squeezed and kneaded them 
hungrily. As if to give herself courage, the half-undressed teenager reached 
back with her hands to stroke his body, opening her mouth to welcome his 
lewdly probing tongue. 

Greta, meanwhile, had already stripped off her skimpy clothes, and was 
looking at the outstretched body of the teenager with open lust. Candy's 
legs dangled over the edge of the bed onto the floor, and the sex-hungry 
brunette quickly went over and knelt on the floor between them to remove 
Candy's shoes and hose. Then she began running her manicured hands over the 
smooth white flesh of the girl's naked legs, inching her way upward under 
Candy's skirt until she felt the silky smoothness of her bikini panties. 
Slipping her fingers into the tight elastic waistband, she peeled them down 
over Candy's hips, then shoved the girl's skirt back so she could gaze at 
her nearly virginal pussy. 

Feeling the unaccustomed touch of someone else's hands on her bare flesh, 
and then the removal of her panties, Candy squirmed in Kris's grasp to see 
what was happening. The first thing that met her eyes was Earl, halfway 
across the room, stripping off his clothes. Her eyes fell in shock on his 
thickly upstanding cock, far too large for his frail body. With a sudden 
rush, she realized that if Earl was in another part of the room, then it 
must be Greta whose hands were running over her naked flesh. The realization 
made her recoil in confusion; and forgetting for a moment her resolution to 
`save' Kris, she began to wriggle away. This was sinful! Depraved! 

But Kris's strong hands held her in place. "Relax, Baby," he murmured. 
"Trust me; you'll dig it!" 

He himself was hotly aroused by what was beginning to take place; and, in 
fact, he had been keenly looking forward to seeing his compliant teenage 
girlfriend's naked young body ravaged at the same time by both Greta and 
Earl. He wasn't about to let her stop now, not when they were just getting 
started. Greta was kneeling naked on the floor at the side of the bed, just 
waiting to plunge her tongue deep into Candy's nakedly glistening cunt. His 
cock throbbed excitedly and he leaned over, pinning Candy's shoulders down 
to the mattress with his hands and kissing her feverishly. 

Sensing that the moment had come, Greta pulled at Candy's legs, drawing her 
downward on the bed until her cunt was within easy reach of the black haired 
woman's lips and hands. With tender movements, her fingers trembling with 
intense arousal, she parted the sparsely hair-lined flesh, spreading Candy's 
full young thighs even farther apart to reveal the complete moist pinkness 
of her vaginal crevice. Emitting a low moan of ecstasy, Greta thrust her 
face hungrily into the teenage girl's hot wet pussy, imparting feverish 
kisses to the curl-fringed lips, pressing her head still deeper into Candy's 
sensually tingling young cunt. 

All at once the sex-crazed woman's tongue made searing contact with the 
quiveringly sensitive bud of Candy's clitoris, and she began to circle it 
tauntingly. Despite her shock and horror at the knowledge that it was not 
only a total stranger, but a woman, who was performing this lewd act on her 
naked vagina, Candy could not restrain a low, involuntary moan of lust; and, 
at the same time, in a purely instinctive reaction, she reached down and 
wrapped her hands unwittingly in Greta's short black hair, pressing the 
older woman's head farther up into her wetly glistening cuntal split. 
Sensing her receptive response, Greta let her own hands slide upward over 
the trembling adolescent's satin-soft belly to her youthfully firm breasts, 
pushing Kris's hands away so that she could completely encompass the 
stiff-pointed mounds while her hungry mouth and tongue continued their lurid 
assault on the girl's now hotly spasming clitoris. 

Eagerly Greta licked and sucked, nipping the tiny pleasure bud between her 
teeth. Then she drew her tongue downward, laving it lewdly around the tight 
little entrance to the quivering adolescent's visibly throbbing vagina. 
Abandoning herself totally to her desires, she began to lick and suck around 
the nakedly pulsing little opening, moaning and mewling her erotic pleasure. 
She could feel her own pussy vibrating with increasing passion, moistly 
secreting its heated female fluid in anticipation of the orgasm to come. 

Kris meanwhile pulled away from his writhing young girlfriend, and got up to 
take off his clothes. His friend Earl was taking a healthy swig of another 
daiquiri, pausing from time to time to massage the aching stiffness of his 
rigid cock as he gaped at the two females writhing sensually together - 
Candy on the motel room bed, and Greta on her kness in front of her on the 
floor. 

"Have something to drink," he offered Kris drunkenly. 

"Thanks," the lewdly grinning song writer replied. He slipped off his jeans, 
leaving himself totally naked, and took a can from his friend. Taking a deep 
swallow, he let the potent liquid course down his throat, and then he turned 
his gaze to the obscene sight of Greta and Candy in the midst of their lewd 
lesbian lovemaking. Christ, he thought as he ogled the writhing naked flesh 
of the two women. Is there anything sexier than two gals kissing and sucking 
pussy? 

Candy, forced to submit to the woman's greedy tongue-fucking of her openly 
spread young cunt found herself slowly being drawn into a mind-boggling sea 
of salacious sexual delight. Her mouth-moistened young pussy, driven wildly 
hot by Greta's artful probing, was pulsing with a life of its own, making 
waves of warm wet desire ripple through every part of her yearning body. 
Nothing mattered anymore except the wonderful burning sensations that tore 
through her vibrating young cunt; and hardly conscious of what she was 
doing, she spread her thighs wider in open invitation and began to moan in 
rapture as the feverishly sucking woman thrust her long pink tongue. deeply 
upward into her seething vaginal passage, rotating it around in a way that 
made the helpless fifteen year old shudder in a helpless all-consuming 
passion. 

Kris and Earl, now hopeless victims of the power of the alcohol, were 
laughing coarsely, as they watched the two women they began to eagerly 
stroke their long hard cocks. And on the bed, Candy began to flail her long 
teenage hair from side to side as the older woman swirled her expert tongue 
far up inside the hotly pulsing walls of her teenage pussy. 

"Hey, Greta," Kris called, "swing around and get on top of her so the kid 
can lick your cunt too!" 

Candy, lost in an erotic torrent, did not at first quite comprehend what her 
lover had said, and was somewhat surprised when the ravishing woman slipped 
her tongue out from her wetly quivering pussy. Then she felt the bed sag as 
Greta lifted herself onto it, swinging her thighs over the girl's shoulders, 
straddling her face and positioning her throbbing hot cunt directly over the 
wildly aroused adolescent's mouth so that they could share their mutual 
excitement. Bending down and supporting herself on her elbows, the black 
haired vixen continued to lick greedily at the warm succulent split of 
Candy's nakedly exposed little pussy. 

When Candy finally realized what Kris was demanding, she was shocked; and 
once more bitterly disillusioned. How could her idol force her to do such a 
degrading thing: actually lick the pussyhole of another woman! 

"Go on," Kris snarled, irritated by the girl's obvious hesitation. "Squirm 
your hot little tongue up into Greta's cunt! NOW!" 

Closing her eyes and fighting back hot tears of shame and humiliation, Candy 
opened her mouth and timidly pushed out her tongue as Greta began to once 
more drive her own tongue deep up into the young girl's still hotly 
shuddering vaginal depths. At first the teenager recoiled from the strange 
feminine wetness she tasted as her tongue nervously probed at the throbbing 
wet flesh of the older woman's curl-fringed pussy lips. But soon, driven 
onward by the churning fires of desire that still raged in her loins, the 
naive girl gave a final moan of submission and began to explore the warmly 
quivering furrow, rimming her tongue teasingly around the delicate strands 
of pubic hair that lined the soft pink cuntal mouth. Finding the woman's 
stiffly pulsing clitoris, she brushed her tongue lightly over it and was 
startled to feel the little pink bud responding eagerly, hardening 
instantly. 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" Greta groaned down between Candy's legs, as Candy 
timidly continued to lick her lustily throbbing clitoris, "MMMmmmmmmmm ... " 

Aroused now beyond all control, Candy no longer cared who she was or what 
she was doing! Her young body was consumed with shudders of hot desire, and 
she began hungrily ramming her wet little tongue eagerly up into Greta's 
heated vaginal walls. 

Standing nearby, the song writer and his friend watched as the two ravishing 
females, locked together in a lewd sixty-nine position, undulated their 
naked bodies together with shameless desire, their wet hungry mouths crushed 
hotly against each other's glistening and voraciously clasping pussies as 
they moaned and writhed with lewd ecstatic delight. 

"Oh, yeah!" Kris howled, jerking wildly at his heavily bloated cock. "Suck 
each other, you beautiful bitches, SUCK EACH OTHER!" 

Earl grunted in agreement, and pulled obscenely on his blood-stiffened 
penis, his eyes straining as they roved over the hungrily tongue-fucking 
women. His lips curled back crudely, exposing his teeth, his raw male 
arousal building to thundering proportions. Kris had promised him a good 
afternoon of fun and games, but this was even better than he had 
anticipated! The beautiful Greta and a sex-crazy teenage girl, sucking and 
eating each other's nakedly spread cunts like their lives depended on it. 
Incredible! 

Candy was submerged now in a sea of erotic wildly soaring ecstasy, as she 
speared her wetly glistening tongue upward into Greta's moistly clasping 
cunt, wanting to explore every inch of the succulently contracting interior 
walls. Meanwhile, not far away, Kris groaned in ecstasy as he continued to 
stroke feverishly at his hot rigid rod. Greta, equally aroused, moaned in 
pure animal delight as her heatedly throbbing cuntal walls began to expand 
and contract with increased intensity. She knew her climax was not far off 
now, and she doubled her efforts by plunging her tongue deep down into 
Candy's frantically clutching young pussy below. 

"MMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG," the orgasming brunette grunted as her release 
began to shudder through her heatedly pulsing cunt, "RRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNN!" 

Meanwhile, Candy mewled like a female animal lost in lust as she undulated 
her nakedly gleaming body up and down on the mattress in frantic abandon, 
her vaginal interior ablaze with uncontrollable desire. She felt as if she 
were sinking into a torrent of velvety hot softness, consumed by a tidal 
wave of sweet aching wetness. She was cumming ... cumming ... 

 ` ` N u u u u n g g g g h h h h mmmmmmmmmmmm ... yesssssss," she moaned, 
her lips still pressed hotly to the older woman's lair-fringed cunt above. 

As the two men watched Greta and the crazily squirming young teenager reach 
climax, they turned to each other; as if on cue, still masturbating their 
eagerly straining cocks. 

"How about if we both fuck the hot little bitch now, Earl?" Kris said, 
smiling lecherously at his friend. 

"Why not, man? That's what we're here for, isn't it?" 

"One in front, the other behind?" 

"Why not? What do you want, cunt or ass?" 

"I've never fucked her hot little asshole!" Kris said. "How about you take 
the pussy, and I'll get her behind?" 

"Solid man," Earl agreed, smirking. 

On the sagging motel bed, Greta, having completed her orgasm, pulled wearily 
away from the pulsating cuntal split of the sex-dazed teenager. She lay back 
on the bed, then looked up to see her two male companions lurching drunkenly 
towards the bed, each gripping his swollen instrument in his hand. 

"Make way, Greta baby, and let the boys get their dessert!" the two of them 
said, almost in unison. 

Candy, still lost in the volcanic heat created by the brunette's frenzied 
tongue-fucking, opened her eyes and gasped as, through her blurred vision, 
she saw the hulking forms of Kris and Earl towering over her on the bed. 

"What ... what are you going to do to me?" she groaned out in a weak, hazy 
voice. "What are you going to do to me?" 

The only reply she got was a lewd, sexual driven laugh from the two men. 

 Chapter 6 

While Candy was lost in the throes of her encounter with Kris and his two 
friends from the city, Uncle Tim, unknown to her, was just pulling up in 
front of their house. He had decided, on the spur of the moment, to take off 
early, and treat his step-daughter to dinner on Fisherman's Wharf. 

"What the hell?" he said to himself. "I'm always so damn busy that I never 
have time to be any kind of a father. No wonder Candy and I are like 
strangers to each other." It was three-thirty when he left the station; and 
by the time he got through the late afternoon traffic, he figured Candy 
should be home from school. 

He was surprised on his arrival to find the house empty. He went to her room 
to see if perhaps she had fallen asleep after school; but no one was there. 
In fact, it looked as though she had not come home at all, since there was 
no sign of her school books. For a moment, Tim was concerned. 

"She's probably gone over to Amy's," he reasoned finally. "After all, I'm 
not due home for another hour and a half. It must be lonely for her to come 
home to an empty house every day." 

He went to the hall phone and found Amy's number. Her mother answered the 
phone. 

"Hello, Mrs. Johnson, this is Tim Allen. Is Candy there?" 

"Oh, hello, Mr. Allen," the pleasant woman replied. "No, she's not. As a 
matter of fact, Amy's been home sick with a sore throat." 

"I see," Allen frowned. There was something about the information that set 
off an alarm in his brain, but he couldn't quite place what it was. "Thank 
you very much, Mrs. Johnson. If by any chance she does drop in, would you 
ask her to call home?" 

"I certainly will." 

Puzzled, he stood by the phone, wondering why he felt as though something 
were distinctly wrong. He began to flip through the phone book where they 
wrote down frequently used numbers to see if there was another lead as to 
where his step-daughter might be. Just then his eye caught something written 
on the message pad in Candy's neat girlish script: Pacifica, No. 8, 3 
o'clock. He stared at it, and the feeling of concern lurking in the back of 
his mind grew into a certainty. 

Suddenly he remembered just what it was about Mrs. Johnson's comments that 
upset him. When the phone rang that morning, Candy had told him it was Amy, 
asking her to bring a book to school. But Amy hadn't gone to school so ... 
Candy must have been lying! But who could she have been talking to that she 
felt the need to lie about? 

Immediately Kris Sherman's name leapt into his mind. "No," he protested to 
himself, "no, she wouldn't be meeting him. He's capable of it, but I can't 
imagine he'd really be that interested in Candy, she's only a kid." 

Even as he thought, however, Tim Allen found his fingers racing through the 
pages of the phone book to the section under `P'. Under Pacifica, there was 
only the Pacifica Bowling Alley ... and the Pacifica Motel! Allen's mind 
reeled in shock. Was it possible that that bastard had arranged for Candy to 
meet him in a motel room? It was ridiculous, impossible, there was only one 
way to check it out. Seconds later he was on his way out the door. 

* * * 

Meanwhile, in the motel room, Candy cowered in fear on the bed as Kris 
removed her now-wrinkled skirt from where Greta had pushed it up around her 
waist. 

"Kris, please ... " she murmured, as he pulled the skirt off. 

But before she could protest further, the thin figure of Earl was slithering 
down next to her on the bed, enveloping her in his arms and turning her on 
her side so that she faced him. 

"You're a nice little piece of ass, Candy," he slurred, breathing heavily on 
the teenager. Then, with no further warning, he clutched hotly at her naked 
young body and kissed her with passionate intensity, almost smothering her 
with his panting excitement. Quickly, he positioned his desire-bloated cock 
at the entrance to her tongue-moistened cunt; and with a savage groan, 
entered her in a single long cruel lunge, burying his thickly swollen shat 
up to the hilt into her throbbing, still-sex-drenched young pussy. 

Candy hardly had time to accommodate herself to the crude assault when she 
suddenly felt her buttocks being stretched apart from behind by Kris's 
grasping hands; and in the next moment, he had placed a spittle-dampened 
finger on the small virgin ring of her anus. With a sudden shock of 
realization, Candy knew that he intended to fuck her there in ... up in her 
rectum! 

Oh; NOOOOOOO! her mind screamed, they're going to sandwich-fuck me together, 
and Kris is ... is going to take me in the rear! I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TAKE 
IT! NOOOOOOOO! "No Kris ... ahhhhnnnnhhh, Kris, no, I can't," she screamed. 

Yet there was nothing she could do; for suddenly Kris wormed his moist 
middle finger up into her tightly clenched little asshole, and the agonized 
youngster howled in pain, jerking instinctively away in an effort to escape; 
but Earl held her firmly in place, lunging his cock violently up into her 
seething wet cuntal passage and embracing her with a vise-like grip, so that 
she could not escape his friend's obscene rear assault. Brutally Kris wormed 
his finger in up to the second knuckle, making the cringing young girl cry 
out in torment. 

Greta sprawled nearby on a chair, laughing when she heard the girl groan in 
protest. She'll like it soon enough, the debauched brunette' mused 
philosophically, in fact she'll probably go ape for it after tonight. 

Kris finally withdrew his roughly probing finger from the ravaged teenager's 
anus; and soon he positioned his naked body behind her, pressing up against 
her back and placing his pulsating hot penis against the tiny puckered 
circle of her rectal opening. Then, with a grunt of excitement, he thrust 
his hips forward, driving his hardened spear of male flesh mercilessly up 
into her tightly closed anal hole. "AAAAARRRRRNNNNNNGGGGGHHHH!" the girl 
wailed in agony as his thick cock slipped painfully up inside the tightly 
clenching walls of her back passage. Excruciating surges of pain shot 
through her defenseless loins and she shuddered in agony. Surely now she had 
reached the lowest, most degrading experience possible. Being violently 
screwed in the pussy and rectum at the same time by two different men! 

Her eyes filled with tears as the two men began to lunge into her from both 
sides, separated only by a thin membrane of flesh between her cunt and 
rectal passages deep inside as they slid mercilessly in and out. Young Candy 
was pinned between their powerful bodies, unable to escape, and consumed by 
the heavy torturous filling of near virginal young belly from their rampant, 
merciless double fuck. 

"Nooooooooo," she wailed pitifully, ready to faint from the pain and 
humiliation she was experiencing. Yet, after a few moments, deep up inside 
where the cocks almost met, she felt a familiar quiver of excitement 
beginning to grow; and once more, warm flashes of forbidden passion began to 
insinuate through her abused teenage body ... 

* * * 

At the same time, Uncle Tim pulled his new Camaro into the Pacifica Motel 
parking lot. Although frantic with concern over his errant young niece, he 
knew that the worst thing he could do was panic. After all, he could be 
mistaken. She might not be here; in fact, there might be some perfectly 
reasonable explanation of her whereabouts. Yet, he also knew it was possible 
that she had been deceiving him all along and was actually still seeing Kris 
Sherman. Stifling his growing rage, he left the car and headed towards the 
window of room No. 8 to see if his niece was there. 

Dusk had begun to fall, making it easy for him to slip along the pavement 
unobserved until he finally crouched outside the window, partially hidden by 
shrubbery. Slowly, his heart beating heavily, he peered inside, finding a 
torn space in the flimsy window covering that gave him a full view of the 
interior. What he saw made him gasp in shock. 

His fifteen year old niece lay totally naked on the motel room bed, and -was 
being frantically fucked by two men at the same time! She was moaning and 
crying in abandoned ecstasy, sandwiched obscenely between them like a rag 
doll, her gleaming young body thrashing in torrid response to the intense 
thrills of her double-fucking. One of the men was a total stranger; but the 
other he knew at once was Kris Sherman! Nothing had prepared Allen for the 
volcanic revelation that he witnessed; and he was paralyzed in shock, unable 
to do anything but stare in utter disbelief at what he saw. 

MY GOD! his tortured mind cried. MY GOD! 

Unaware that they were being observed, Earl and Kris drove mercilessly into 
the twin channels of the wetly glistening body of Allen's young niece. Candy 
now cried out in utter rapture as the two hotly throbbing penises fucked 
wildly into her. Her shame and humiliation had long since vanished in the 
return of the torrential passion that had once more taken complete 
possession of her aroused young mind and body. 

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH," she wailed suddenly as she reached the pinnacle of her 
passion; and climax after violent climax tore swiftly through her 
cock-filled young loins. 

Sensing her abandoned orgasm, the two men renewed their merciless fucking. 
Their two massively inflated cocks drove into her with brutal strength as 
they grew closer to their own aching moment of release. 

"UUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH SHIT! SHHHHITTTTT!" the lust-maddened song writer 
howled as his sperm-bloated testicles suddenly tightened and began to erupt 
their scalding load deep up into Candy's tightly milking little rectal 
passage. 

"UUUUUUNNNNGGGGHHHH!" 

Earl, however, held off as long as possible, not wanting to hurry the 
roaring rush of passion that exploded in his genitals. Yet, in the next 
moment, he could contain himself no longer; and with a cry, he began 
spurting wave after wave of white-hot cum out of the parted glans of his 
thrusting cock, emptying himself with deep guttural moans and filling the 
ravaged teenager's openly sucking vagina with his hot liquid sperm. 

Meanwhile, Tim Allen, wrenching himself free of the paralyzing shock, rushed 
to the door of the motel room, heaved against it with his shoulders, and 
suddenly came crashing into the room, taking the others by complete 
surprise. 

"What the ... " Kris said, suddenly seeing the face and form of Candy's 
uncle standing in the doorway. 

"You son of a bitch!" Tim Allen roared, slamming the door behind him. "WHAT 
THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" 

Candy, realizing what happened, cried in alarm as she realized her uncle had 
discovered her in the midst of the most shameful moment of her life! 
Quickly; as the two men retreated and climbed into their pants, she drew a 
sheet up around her trembling nakedness. 

"Oh, Uncle Tim, how did you find me here?" she wailed. 

"I'll deal with you later, Candy," Allen snapped, shooting an outraged 
glance at his cowering offspring. 

"Say, what goes on here?" Greta asked, as she quickly slipped into her 
clothes. "Who is this guy, Kris?" 

"I'm Candy's Uncle," the angry man spit. "And now," he snarled, turning to 
Kris, "You tell me what's going on here, or I'll bust your jaw!" 

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" the song writer shot back as he zipped his 
pants. "Candy and I were just having a little fun." 

With a roar of anger, Tim lurched towards the song writer and began to 
grapple with him violently. Needing no further urging, Greta slipped out the 
door to wait until the men straightened the mess out. Meanwhile, Earl pulled 
Kris and Tim Allen apart. 

"I'm going to get the police!" Tim threatened, "I'll have you sent up for 
this!" 

"You're not going to do anything, not if you don't want your niece's name 
wrecked for the rest of her life!" he shouted back. 

"What ... what are you talking about?" 

"Look, Allen," Kris explained smugly, "your niece wanted to keep seeing me. 
Can I help that?" 

"Kris... " Candy murmured weakly, hardly believing his words. 

"Happens to me all the time, you know," he continued. "I guess they get hot 
for me because of the songs. I can't help that." 

"She happens to be under age, my friend, did you think of that?" 

"Sure. Go ahead, call the cops. But I'll make such a stink, your niece'll be 
more famous than I am. My agent would love it, 'cause it'd really pick up 
sales. You want your niece's face on every scandal sheet in the country? 
It's up to you. I don't give a shit. To me, she's just another hot little 
piece of pussy." 

Candy burst into tears as he spoke so heartlessly; and Allen felt the 
impulse to smash the arrogant young man in the face. But he knew also that 
he was trapped. Sherman was right; he had the upper hand unless he himself 
was willing to expose his niece to an ugly sex trial. He had seen 
sensational scandals like that before and knew that the girl was always the 
one who got hurt. The lawyers would tear her apart on the stand and make it 
all look like her fault -He'd seen it happen too many times in rape trials. 
No, he couldn't do that to Candy, no matter how he felt. Sadly, he turned to 
the disheveled, ravaged form of his young step-daughter who still lay 
trembling under the tightly clutched sheet. 

"Candy ... I think you'd better get dressed, honey." 

Obediently, she got up, keeping the sheet around her well fucked young body 
while she searched for her clothes. 

"Glad to see you understand my point of view, Allen," Kris said wryly. "We 
wouldn't want to hurt Candy, would we?" 

With the irony of his last remark, the crushed adolescent paused for a 
moment to look at the man to whom she had given her love and her virginity. 
She realized then what a total fool she had been, believing he was just like 
the heros of his songs. Why, he probably had been laughing up his sleeve at 
her the entire time, taking advantage of her tenderness and her innocence. 
SHE HAD GIVEN HIM EVERYTHING AND HE HAD BETRAYED HER! Not only that, but her 
uncle had seen it all! Defiantly struggling to keep her shattered 
self-esteem from collapsing entirely, she gulped back tears of anguish and 
finished dressing. 

"Sherman," Tim remarked menacingly, "if I ever see that ugly face of yours 
within a hundred miles of Candy again, I swear I'll beat the shit out of 
you!" 

"Sure, I understand your point. But you don't have to sweat it. I get all 
the pussy I need; one less teeny-bopper, I don't even notice." 

Numbly Candy buttoned her blouse and smoothed her rumpled skirt. Then, not 
daring to look at either Kris or her uncle, she moved toward the door. 

"I'd ... I'd like to go home now." 

 Chapter 7 

Driving home together, Uncle Tim and Candy remained tensely silent with each 
other, not knowing what to say; each one's mind brooding with an uneasy 
mixture of outrage and embarrassment. Tim Allen could not get the picture of 
his lewdly abandoned fifteen year old niece, moaning incoherently as she was 
being sandwich-fucked by two older men, out of his brain; he had been 
shocked to the very roots of his being. His dead twin brother's daughter, 
tortured and degraded by a derelict song writer and his degenerate friends 
in a broken-down motel room! How could Candy have let herself get involved 
with these people? And where might he have failed as a guardian that this 
beautiful young girl could be such easy prey to people like Kris Sherman? He 
had done his damnedest, hadn't he, to be a good foster parent, despite all 
the difficulties with his wife? Now he found himself deeply resentful of 
Candy, and almost insulted by her outrageous deception of him. 

And she, seated next to him, tried to keep as much physical distance between 
them as possible. She felt ashamed, and yet defiant as well; bitterly 
remorseful that he should have seen her under those circumstances, but also 
angry that he had been following her, and hurt that he had no pity over the 
fact that she had been betrayed by Kris. Maybe she never would have done it 
if he hadn't been such a hypocrite with her beloved Mummy. Hadn't she seen 
for herself how cruel he could be to satisfy his selfish passions? Why 
should she care now what she did with her life or whom she chose to be with? 
It was his fault, his fault for not being enough of a real father! His fault 
for breaking Mummy's heart! 

The troubled girl realized they were home, for her uncle turned off the 
street into their driveway. But everything looked different now, she 
realized in surprise! All the old streets and the ticky-tacky houses were 
different, even at night. She realized in the next moment that it was not 
her environment that had changed - she was different! She had changed in 
ways she could barely comprehend. She wasn't the same innocent fifteen year 
old she had been a few weeks before. Her childhood was over. But what was 
left of Candy? Who was she now? A frown of bewilderment crossed her brow as 
she got out of the car and went ahead into the house. 

Moments later, she sat sullenly on the living room sofa, her fingers tracing 
an outline along the edge of a pillow, as her step-father finished off two 
unusually large martinis. She could sense his resentment of her as he took a 
deep swallow of his third drink. His back was turned to her, but she knew he 
was getting ready to lecture her again. Men, she thought contemptuously, as 
she became conscious of a throbbing ache in her loins. Maybe they're all 
alike, all liars and hypocrites! 

Tim Allen turned to face his niece and step-daughter, his tortured brain 
already affected by the liquor. He watched Candy staring defiantly ahead of 
her, as if she had a perfect right to behave the way she had, like a slut, a 
common whore! 

"Why did you do it, Candy?" he finally asked. 

"Why did I do what?" she replied, deliberately avoiding his eyes. 

"Why did you disobey me and continue to see Kris Sherman?" 

There was a long silence in the room as he waited for her to reply. He took 
another sip of his martini and 'his tightly muscled body grew warm and 
flushed. His niece lifted her head, her eyes flashing vividly with 
independence. 

"Because I wanted to see him again ... because I loved him!" 

"Loved him!" Tim cried in both anguish and disbelief. "He's nothing but a 
degenerate bastard!" 

Candy rose from the couch, livid with anger. "Don't you say that," she spat 
fiercely. "Don't you talk about him like that. You have no right!" 

"No right?" 

"You're no better than he is," she hissed, suddenly possessed by a wave of 
overwhelming anger. "You forced Mummy to suck you! I SAW WHAT YOU DID! YOU 
MADE HER SUCK YOUR COCK!" 

Suddenly Tim Allen bellowed violently, like a wounded lion. Staggered by his 
step-daughter's accusation, he found himself lurching across the room and, 
without warning, slapping Candy fully on the face with his hand. 

She reeled back, stunned by the unexpected blow; then slowly brought her 
hand up to her reddened cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. 

"Oh!" she cried softly; then suddenly she burst into tears and crumpled to 
the floor in anguish. Tim was as shocked as she by his behavior; and for a 
moment, he watched numbly, swaying under the influence of the alcohol, as 
his little niece huddled on the floor, weeping. He couldn't imagine what 
possessed him to do such a thing. In the next moment, he knelt beside her 
and put his arms around her. 

"Oh baby," he said remorsefully. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what 
came over me." 

"Why did you hit me, Uncle Tim?" she sobbed, letting herself be drawn into 
his comforting embrace. 

"Oh, Candy ... when you said that ... about Mummy ... I just couldn't take 
it. Listen, sweetheart, I know what you saw, and it seemed awful; but your 
mother and I were having problems, problems you didn't know about. I hoped 
that what I did might help. And even your mother told me it had! Before she 
died, Candy, we were the happiest together that we'd ever been, except when 
you first came to live with us. Believe me, darling, I'm telling you the 
truth. Please believe me ... " 

Listening to him, Candy found her tears subsiding, and deep in the back of 
her mind, she realized something she had not thought of before. Her 
experience with. Kris, as terrible as it had been, had forced her to 
discover the deepest mysteries of her womanhood. Wasn't it possible that her 
own step-mother and aunt had needed something like that too? The young girl 
had been aware that her mother had often seemed cool and distant to Uncle 
Tim. Maybe she'd had some kind of sexual problem, and maybe that problem had 
actually been helped by what he had done that night! Maybe she had been 
wrong all along. Wasn't he just a human being after all, with faults and 
virtues like everybody else? 

Tim Allen drew his niece closer. 

"I know I haven't been much of a pal, darling, but believe me, I'm going to 
try harder from now on." Holding Candy so close, he was surprised to feel a 
warm surge stirring in his loins. It was a strange mixture of paternal love 
and erotic arousal. He was somewhat alarmed by his reaction; but his 
alcohol-weakened brain found it hard to resist. 

"I ... I think you better go on to bed now, Candy," he said finally, forcing 
himself to pull away from her and repress his strange instincts. 

"Okay ... but ... will you come to say goodnight, like you did when I was 
little ... " 

"Sure, baby," he said. Their eyes locked warmly, and it seemed to Tim that 
for the first time, there was a spark of understanding between them. 

* * * 

A few minutes later, Candy lay naked under a light sheet in the darkened 
bedroom. The only light came from the hall through the partly opened door. 
She wasn't the least bit sleepy, for her mind still struggled to comprehend 
the titanic events of that night. Her brutal encounter with Kris and his 
friends began to pale now with the new revelation that she had only recently 
discovered. She found that she no longer hated her uncle, no longer felt 
bitter about what happened between him and her Mummy. For the first time she 
really understood him and knew him as lie was: A man who was trying his 
best, and whom she now knew she could love. 

But oddly enough, her feelings for him were not only those of a grateful 
step-daughter and niece but were strangely mixed with a far deeper 
affection, one that also seemed to include the kind of feeling she had for 
Kris. But wasn't it wrong to. feel that way about your own step-father, even 
if he was handsome and strong? Wasn't she supposed to ignore all that? She 
found herself calling to him. 

"Uncle Tim ... !" she called, as she had done so many times when she was a 
little girl. She wanted him to come to kiss her goodnight. She listened 
intently for his footsteps in the hall. 

Meanwhile, Tim Allen had downed the last of his drink, and then headed 
towards Candy's bedroom. His trim physique was warm and unusally vibrant, 
thanks to the gin; and his mind still focused on his voluptuous young niece. 
She seemed to understand what he had awkwardly explained to her,.and at last 
it seemed they had broken through the wall of resentment and suspicion that 
had cast a dark cloud over their relationship even before Shirley had passed 
away. He found himself at the door to Candy's bedroom, and he knocked on the 
half-open door. "Can I come in?" he asked gently. 

"Yes ... " she responded softly, drawing the sheet up so that it just 
covered the soft nakedness of her breasts. 

Tim Allen sat down beside his niece, and began to stroke her smoothly 
girlish forehead. Gazing warmly down at her, he was once more struck by her 
beauty, her clear skin, her bright brown eyes, shining up at him even in the 
semi-darkness of the bedroom. Beneath the thin sheet, the surprisingly 
mature curves of her little body were easily perceptible. 

As he continued to softly caress her forehead, Candy's young body, still 
racing with the turbulent excitement began to grow aroused once more. She 
was stunned to realize that her flesh responded to the touch of a man 
unconsciously, even though that man ... was her own uncle! Unconsciously she 
began to squirm sensuously around beneath the light sheet, growing 
unaccountably excited ... down there ... in her recently awakened vagina. To 
her great surprise, she found herself wanting to - to hold him, close to 
her, as close as she had been with Kris. "Oh, Uncle Tim ... " she whispered, 
"I ... I really do love you ... " 

Deeply touched, and aware that for the first time she had said Uncle Tim 
with real emotion, he was assured at last of Candy's trust. He leaned down 
to kiss her smooth forehead, then her cheeks, while his hands tentatively 
touched and held her soft white shoulders in parental-like compassion. She 
was so beautiful, so sweet and vulnerable. 

Meanwhile she was responding with ever-increasing delight as he held her and 
kissed her softly. Her nakedly curvaceous young body began to undulate under 
the thin bedsheet; and the warm fires of desire that had been so recently 
and so overwhelmingly provoked once again began to kindle in her loins. 
Gazing rapturously into his face, she realized for the first time how much 
he loved her! And all this time she had thought he hated her. But his tender 
kisses were proof, for the bulge in the front of his trousers seemed to be 
pulsating to life even as she watched! This told her more than any words 
possibly could just how much he cared. He was her wonderful uncle who had, 
after all, saved her from Kris and his degenerate friends! And he cared for 
her! With both mind and body! 

These unusual thoughts, perfectly reasonable to the abused teenager, caused 
her firm young thighs to open and close with hunger; and in her mind, she 
recalled the way he had looked that night when he was totally naked and her 
aunt was sucking his enormously erect penis until she made it cum all in her 
mouth! The very thought filled her brain with unfulfilled burning desire, 
and her love-hungry pussy throbbed with uncontrollable fire. 

"Uncle Tim... oh, Uncle Tim! I love you ... and I need you Uncle Tim to hold 
me ... Oh, how I need you!" 

Holding his niece, kissing her, Tim heard her affectionate words caressing 
his ears, felt her softly sensuous nakedness twisting beneath him; yet he 
was so filled with parental concern for her that, at first, he did not 
understand the depths of her desire for him. All he knew was that his own 
heart was bursting with love, a love that was deeper than he had ever known 
toward a woman before, a warmth that was almost akin to that which he had 
felt toward Shirley in those precious few times they had been able to 
communicate. 

Immediately he released his softly writhing young niece and jerked upright 
into a rigid sitting position beside her. My God, he thought, my God! How 
could he dare to have such thoughts! How could he think of his own brother's 
daughter in any way but a chaste one, especially after what he had rescued 
her from only hours before? He loved her, yes, loved her with complete 
parental affection - but not that way! Surely not ... 

Yet, even as he berated himself, his eyes were moving over Candy's reclining 
form. At that moment the equally yearning young girl began to draw the sheet 
down to reveal her naked body completely to his eyes in the shadowy night 
light of the bedroom. Stunned, he could not take his gaze away from her 
sensually squirming teenage body. She was so beautiful ... her breasts 
rounded, taut, and breathtakingly full ... her tiny hardened nipples ... 
Then, with a final jerk, Candy pulled the sheet completely off, and her 
astonished uncle found himself staring at the softly pulsing mound of her 
sparse, curl-covered young cuntal split! He couldn't believe how incredibly 
beautiful it looked, so inviting, so tender ... so teenaged pussy-soft. 

NO! his mind screamed, No! Stop it! This is forbidden! He was no better than 
Kris Sherman, yet he was held hypnotized to the lush form of his young 
niece. Sweat broke out on his forehead; and he could feel an aching of acute 
physical desire in his testicles, a fierce stirring of inner love for the 
beautiful teenage girl he had raised, a love that grew stronger by the 
moment and was very nearly taking hold of his alcohol-weakened senses. 
Suddenly, he had to admit it; he wanted to fuck his own niece! Struck nearly 
senseless by this final admission, Tim Allen suddenly rose from the bed, 
overwhelmed with mixed emotions and confused desires. 

"Uncle Tim! No!" she cried. "Don't go away. Love me, Uncle Tim ... I want 
you ... Don't you want me too?" 

His .jaw dropped open in total astonishment! She wanted him to fuck her, 
just as he wanted her! He could barely comprehend this new revelation, and 
his mind reeled in agony. He knew he should leave at once, but he just 
couldn't. His penis was aroused beyond measure and pressed wildly against 
the taut material of his trousers, aching to do what he struggled to resist! 
He found himself once more moving toward Candy's bed. He sat down; and at 
once, she mewled with delight, sat up on the bed, and threw her arms around 
his neck. She began kissing him, hotly, planting her soft wet lips on his 
eyes, cheeks, mouth, her tongue darting out to probe between his lips as she 
ground her youthfully pointed breasts hotly up against his chest. All the 
while her writhing young hips continued to squirm on the bed, and her 
lust-fired pussy secreted heated droplets of passion. 

At first Tim struggled to pull away; but soon, with a groan of surrender, 
lie became a willing slave to the incestuous love he felt for his niece. 
With a low rumbling sound of unrestrained hunger, his mouth opened under 
hers, and he began kissing her back, lustfully swirling his own tongue 
around her smaller one, sucking on it joyously as both of them moaned out 
their newly discovered ecstasy. His hands moved downward over her smooth 
adolescent shoulders, around to touch her sides and then eased up tenderly, 
lovingly, seeking the quivering white mounds of her youthfully ripened 
breasts. 

Candy reveled shamelessly in the taste of her uncle's probing tongue and the 
touch of his gentle hands completely enveloping her naked breasts. She 
wanted to show him how well she could love him, hoping to put everything she 
had learned from Kris into use in transmitting to her beautiful father's 
brother how much she really cared for him! And she knew that what she 
experienced with him was far more exciting and thrilling than with Kris; for 
their love went far deeper. 

Candy clung desperately to him, kissing and moaning, while he continued to 
fondle her desire-swollen breasts, tenderly tweaking the hardened nipples 
into further arousal. Then his trembling hands were moving down, down to 
caress her softly quivering thighs, to softly stroke her smooth, whitely 
trembling little belly and then finally to tangle his fingers in the 
sparsely curling pubic hair that covered her vaginal mound. Candy eagerly 
raised her maturely rounded hips up and turned her body slightly so that his 
hand quickly found the tip of her clitoris, and he began to stroke and 
caress it sensually. 

As she began to moan with erotic passion, Uncle Tim found his desire for her 
mounting hungrily! Rotating his middle finger sensuously against her young 
clitoral bud, his cock began to pound furiously, and he knew in that moment 
that he had to have her! Nothing else mattered to him now but knowing total, 
perfect union with this exquisitely beautiful creature that was his niece. 
With a groan of uncontrollable desire, he suddenly pulled away from her, 
stood up and then began tearing at his clothes, pulling them from his body 
like a wild man. Candy, seeing his feverish response, inwardly thrilled to 
the fact that soon she would see her beloved Uncle Tim completely naked and 
that his nude body would be right against hers! In the next instant, it all 
came true; for he stood before her, completely naked, his thickly swollen 
cock jutting out like the mast of a ship. Candy stared upwards at his 
swollen rod of male hardness, a rising delirium of sensuality rippling 
through every inch of her nakedly twisting body. 

"Oh, Uncle Tim!" she whispered, "Get on top of me now ... NOW ... Show me 
what it really means to be a woman!" 

Tim Allen moaned and quickly lay down beside her warmly trembling form, 
enfolding her in his arms, growing savagely aroused by the touch of her 
girlish nakedness pressed tightly against his body. Mouths sought one 
another again, and warm tongues mingled, going wild in each other's mouths. 
The young teenager twisted and undulated her naked body with increasing 
abandon, moaning in her father's brother's protective embrace as he caressed 
her swollen breasts. With overwhelming hunger, Candy found her uncle's 
desire-stiffened cock with her hand, and drawing the thick foreskin back and 
forth over the huge bulbous head, her now expert fingers began to tickle the 
semen-filled ridge on its underside. The erotic touch of her hand on his 
aching penis filled Tim's mind with even wilder desire. He had never felt so 
barbarically aroused, even with his own wife. 

Candy stroked his cock lovingly, cupping and caressing his heavily swollen 
balls below, exploring every inch of his huge penis and testicles with her 
eager hands. Nothing before had given her such a deep sense of pleasure and 
joy as this -loving her own uncle in every possible way. 

"Fuck me now, Uncle Tim!" she cried suddenly, "take me now!" 

He needed no further urging; for his alcohol-clouded brain was now mad with 
raw desire. Quickly, he poised his body over Candy's enchantingly offered 
young form, watching with passion as she drew her slim legs back and pulled 
her knees up to her firmly throbbing young breasts, spreading wide her 
thighs to expose the rich splendor of her wetly pulsating vaginal crevice. 
In that moment, he almost thanked Kris Sherman for awakening his niece to 
sex; because now he was about to enjoy the full pleasure of her eagerly 
offered adoration. 

His brain exploding with happiness, he moved slightly forward so that the 
head of his cock rested against her eagerly pulsating cuntal crevice. She 
began to moan hungrily, imploring him to hurry as he moved forward gently, 
guiding his heavily pulsing cock up into the small pink mouth of her pussy. 
The soft inner flesh of her thighs jerked spasmodically as he moved up 
between them. Already, he knew at once, her tender young vagina was wet and 
slippery with passion; and with a sudden eager lunge, his lust-inflated cock 
slipped all the way up inside the ecstatic niece's tightly clasping little 
cunt. 

"UUUUUUNNNNNNGGGHHH!" she wailed in utter pleasure, "UNCLE TIM! YOU FEEL 
SOOOOO GOOOOOD UP INSIDE MY PUSSY!!!" 

Her lust provoking words sent whirlpools of heat surging through her uncle's 
flesh, and he began to move, slowly fucking his thickly hardened cock shaft 
in and out of her eagerly clasping young vagina, driving his stiffened penis 
far up into her writhing belly, then retreating almost completely, driving 
in again, slowly and rhythmically, while the pressure in his semen-bloated 
testicles raged out of control. The head of his enormous cock pressed 
against the softly cushioned tip of her cervix; while the warm wet walls of 
her cunt wrapped tightly, lovingly around his thick male girth. Candy 
writhed happily beneath her uncle, consumed with a raging passion that was 
vastly better than anything she had experienced with the amoral writer of 
romantic songs. Her very own Uncle Tim was filling her warmly receiving 
pussy with all his love now, and his thickly swollen penis made her hot 
little vagina quiver with blissfully heated passion. 

Allen began to fuck up into his niece's hungrily accepting little belly now 
with increased fervor, driving his heavy cock far up into the excitedly 
pulsing walls of her excitedly widening cuntal channel. His sperm-bloated 
balls slapped heavily down against the smooth wet crevice of her buttocks 
with lewd wet sluicing noises as he withdrew his rampantly heated cock and 
then plunged forward again and again, his ravishingly beautiful niece 
heaving and thrashing eagerly beneath him. The throbbingly aroused 
step-parent felt charged with a kind of potency he had never known before, 
particularly as his own beloved Candy was embracing their forbidden 
love-making with total abandon, her thighs clamping tightly around his 
heavily thrusting hips as he fucked deeply up into the tight wet heat of her 
vaginal depths. 

Suddenly, Candy felt the tingling, rippling sensation in her loins that told 
her only one thing - she was going to cum soon. 

"Oh, Uncle Tim!" she cried happily, deliriously, "I'm going to cum ... I'M 
GOING TO CUM WITH YOU, UNCLE TIM!" 

Tim Allen increased his pace, grinding lewdly into her drenching wet pussy 
while Candy's legs twitched where they clutched at his thighs. He watched 
her smoothly rounded breasts heave and quiver as a result of his torrid 
thrustings, and he saw her toss her head wildly from side to side her long 
hair glistening as she thrashed.. 

"I'm cumming!" she cried suddenly, "CUUUUUMMMMIIINNNNG! Oh, Uncle Tim! Fuck 
me harder! Harder, Uncle Tim! Harrrrddderrr!" 

Candy's curvaceous young body was spasming wildly underneath him now, as she 
surrendered with all her will to the wild sea of orgasm that took possession 
of her body. The mouth of her adolescent young pussy was sucking voraciously 
at his wildly thrusting penis, making him go nearly mad with pleasure. Then, 
in the next moment, he knew he was cumming as well. 

"OH, CANDY!" he gasped, as his shuddering balls suddenly released a raging 
load of scalding semen in rapid little bursts, "OH, SWEETHEART ... AH ... AH 
... AAAAAAHHHHHH!" 

A riverload of fiery hot sperm shot out from the tiny opening at the tip of 
his violently jerking cock and exploded deep up into his niece's greedily 
clutching cunt, making her moan with husky cries of utter rapture as his 
semen flooded deep into her belly in lewd incestuous union. Gush after gush 
of thickly boiling cum erupted from the desire-possessed older man, and ran 
like an untamed river deep up into his niece's wetly receptive pussy. 
Finally, after an eternity of incredible bliss, their forbidden passion 
ebbed, uncle and niece lay next to each other on the narrow bed, breathing 
softly in the afterglow of their tempestuous union. 

"Oh, Uncle Tim! Thank you, thank you!" she said quietly as she snuggled next 
to him on the bed. "Thank you for making real love to me!" 

"Oh, baby, I should be thanking you! That was so wonderful ... " 

"For me too ... " 

For a moment, Tim Allen's brow wrinkled with concern. Although it had been 
the most overpoweringly satisfying experience of his life, he was now 
troubled as to the consequences of the unexpected union. 

"What's wrong, Uncle Tim?" his niece asked, sensing his inward troubles. 

"Oh, it's nothing, sweetheart," he said, somewhat evasively, "it's just ... 
well, I'm just wondering what to do now ... I'm a little concerned about the 
future." 

"There's no need to be," she replied quickly, "especially, you shouldn't 
worry about what's going to happen next. I already know." 

"You do?" he exclaimed in surprise. "What?" 

Smiling mischievously, his fifteen year old niece reached down with her hand 
to fondle his softened cock. Almost immediately, under her tender caresses, 
it began to harden again into desire-swollen stiffness. Tim Allen chuckled 
happily, then leaned back to allow his little niece to continue her erotic 
ministrations. There was no question at all what was going to happen next, 
no question at all. 

 Chapter 8 

A year later, on a chilly Saturday morning in early November, Tim Allen and 
his niece Candy stood in front of a small old-fashioned shop in Mendicino, a 
nineteenth century fishing village turned artistic community on the wind 
swept coast of Northern California. A small sign in old-fashioned lettering 
stood above the entrance: Allen's Phonograph Records, Grand Opening. Uncle 
and niece stood proudly in front of the charmingly decorated store-front, 
their coat collars turned up against the chilling ocean breeze. 

"I never thought it could happen," Tim remarked. "Our own store." 

"Anything can happen, Uncle Tim," his pretty little companion replied, 
squeezing his hand affectionately, "if you care enough." 

Tim smiled at her and shook his head in amazement at the turn of events in 
the last year. Shortly after he and his adolescent niece had discovered the 
depths of their mutual love, Allen had decided that the time was ripe to 
make a life-long dream come true: his own music emporium, specializing in 
old recordings; a place where he could be independent. He had long been 
dissatisfied working as a disc jockey, where he was forced to play whatever 
recently released junk was forced on him. Previously it had been impossible; 
for as long as his wife Shirley was alive, life had been so complicated that 
he had no time to set his dreams in motion. It was with Candy's youthful 
enthusiasm and coaxing that things finally began to fall into place; and 
taking the profit from the sale of his ticky-tacky house and some carefully 
accumulated savings, he bought the old-fashioned shop and had it restored to 
its full charm, thanks largely to Candy's creative touch. 

"I guess now all we do is open up and wait for the customers," Candy 
remarked, smiling up at her handsome uncle. 

"That's right," Tim said. They walked together into the shop. It had been 
agreed that she would work at the shop after school and on weekends. 

"I'm going back into the stock room," Tim said. "I want to complete the 
inventory of the Bing Crosby stuff." He paused for a moment before going, 
his eyes falling on the attractive figure of his teenage partner and 
mistress who was seated behind the small counter. Her hair was pulled up 
into a fashionable twist, making her pretty features seem surprisingly more 
mature than her sixteen years. 

"I think we've got our first customer," Candy exclaimed excitedly, nodding 
to the figure of a middle-aged woman who was glancing at the records in the 
window, obviously ready to come into the shop. 

"Think you can handle it by yourself, sweetheart?" her uncle asked. 

"Sure. And if I need any help, I'll call you." 

"Great. Good luck." 

Candy watched her handsome uncle go into the storeroom, then turned her 
attention to the prospective customer. 

"What a nice place," the woman said approvingly. "Very carefully done. It's 
nice that you took the trouble to restore the building." 

"Thank you," Candy replied brightly. "We love it here. Is there something 
special you're looking for?" she inquired. 

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Do you have the new album by Kris 
Sherman ... the one who did With a Single Rose? 

For a moment Candy felt her heart skip a beat. The very mention of his name 
opened a floodtide of memories in the young girl's brain; and in a rapid 
montage, all the volcanic events she had tried to forget reeled through her 
mind. 

In the next minute, however, she regained her composure. 

"Kris ... Sherman," she repeated. "Is ... is there a new one out now?" 

"Yes, of course," the spectacled woman replied. "I'm surprised you don't 
know about it. Why, it's all the rage and I understand it's even better than 
his first album. I believe it's called Babydoll Love. 

Babydoll Love? Candy thought to herself. I wonder what this one is about ... 
I wonder ... 

"I'm sorry," the sixteen year old said, "we don't stock anything recorded 
after 1950. Perhaps you can find it in Ft. Bragg." 

The woman looked displeased. "Well, I must say I'm disappointed. I would 
think your stock would be more complete." 

"Madame," a male voice suddenly said, "Our stock is quite complete." 
Turning, Candy saw her uncle entering from the back room, carrying a stack 
of vintage records. "However, we are geared to popular classics here, not 
current trash." Candy had to stifle a giggle when she saw the woman's 
reaction to his remark. "Perhaps you'd be interested in AI Jolson's 
Anniversary Waltz or something by Russ Colombo or the Ink Spots. But I'm 
afraid we don't stock anything by Mr .... eh ... what did you say the name 
was?" 

"Kris Sherman. And I'm afraid I'm only interested in his records." 

"Madame, I'm truly sorry for that." 

"Indeed!" And the woman turned coldly on her heels and left the shop. 

"Gee, Uncle Tim," Candy said, laughing, "I guess we lost our first 
customer." 

"But she won't be the last," Tim replied, placing a stack of records on a 
table and joining his niece behind the counter. "We'll do all right here, 
but it may take some time." 

Candy laughed again, thrilled by her uncle's response, and suddenly felt 
extremely optimistic about things. She and her Uncle Tim had a new life, a 
new business, independence, and a warm, fulfilling love. 

"Oh, Uncle Tim, you know I could just kiss you!" 

A sly smile crossed his face, and he moved closer to his young niece, 
putting a strong, protective arm around her shoulder. 

"Then why don't you?" he said, gazing fondly into her eyes ... 


The End
