Mother's Childish Malady
by Carole Wilson
(LLP-588)


Chapter 1 

The psychiatrist was enveloped in leather. The moroccan red cowhide was like 
a giant cocoon and he, the black-suited larvae peering from the blood-red 
womb, a small man. Small and precise. And very European. His steel-gray eyes 
narrowed behind the veil of smoke that permanently encircled his abundant 
cap of matte brown hair, an obvious capitulation to vanity, for it was quite 
plain from the creases in his brow and the droop of flesh under his eyes 
that he was a man well past youth - about twenty-five years past youth. 
Denise judged him to be in his mid-fifties, the dyed brown hair 
notwithstanding. His hands were small and neat, the nails filed to a point, 
which bothered the comely blonde patient. How she loathed Dr. Berger's 
clawlike hands! Yet, vulnerable to perverse fascination as much as anyone, 
she couldn't keep her eyes from following, almost hypnotically, every manual 
exercise the good doctor performed. Usually, it was drawing the ever-present 
French cigarette to his narrow, crimson lips, a gesture that was tinged with 
obscenity, in her view. Those lips, so red against the carefully manicured 
beard and goatee of shoe polish brown, looked like the glistening lips of a 
woman's vagina turned horizontal, smoke curling around the dark, moist 
orifice beyond! 

It made her all the more nervous as she sat there, back stiff, hands 
nervously fingering the patent leather handle of her purse, feet flat on the 
floor, trying to plan her next remarks. She was composing her "confession" 
carefully, wanting desperately for Dr. Berger to not misunderstand. After 
all, she wasn't neurotic, or sick like those other patients. Indeed, she 
considered herself a mature, well-adjusted woman and because she was that, 
she saw the wisdom in seeking a professional's counsel about "her little 
problem." 

After several moments of uneasy silence, Dr. Berger began the session. 

"You told me last week that you were going to have a party for your husband, 
Mrs. Yarbrough ..." 

"A party?" The wide blue eyes blinked rapidly, as though to clear the 
computer in her brain for new programming. She smiled fixedly at the 
sheepskin hanging from the wall to the right of the matte brown head. Her 
eyes flicked, like the aperture of a camera, to the doctor's face then 
blinked away again. "Oh yes, the birthday party. It was a great success. 
Peter was so surprised. Everyone had a marvelous time ..." 

"And you had a marvelous time?" 

"Uh ... oh yes. Peter was really pleased. Of course, he did drink a bit too 
much, as usual ... so did I, for that matter, but after all, it ..." 

"And did that affect his performance later, all that drinking?" 

Denise's mouth went dry. She knew she would have to tell him. She would have 
to, much as she hated revealing her most intimate secrets to another human 
being. But then, Dr. Berger was not another human being. He was a 
psychiatrist. And she was paying him fifty dollars for fifty minutes of his 
professional time. At a dollar a minute, she could not afford to indulge in 
issue-avoiding pleasantries. And Dr. Berger would not allow her to. He did 
not believe in prolonged analysis, in stringing a patient along for months 
or years, as some of his colleagues were known to do. At the outside he 
allowed twelve weeks for functional recovery. At that time, a patient was 
either able to live with his anxiety neurosis or he was referred to another 
colleague, or a clinic for long-term analysis. Psychotic patients were sent 
elsewhere after the intake interview. His methods were the subject of both 
praise and condemnation among his peers, which pleased him greatly. He 
considered most of them consummate charlatans and knew he was ahead of his 
time. One day hypnosis would be practiced as routinely as the stethescopic 
sounding or the dispensation of prescriptions. 

It was because of hypnosis, and Dr. Berger's insistence upon short-term 
therapy that Denise Yarbrough had finally made her first appointment with 
him. Today marked her second, and she feared she would never be able to 
divulge the agonizing details of the awful scene in the bedroom last night 
... 

"Did you give him a present, Mrs. Yarbrough?" Berger asked, stressing 
"prrrezzent" with a Teutonic growl. 

"He said he had another kind of present in mind ..." she said softly, her 
blonde hair falling forward as she bent her head in embarrassment. 

"And ...?" 

"It was a fluke," she stated flatly. 

Dr. Berger's brow wrinkled in skepticism. "A fluke? You are saying that you 
made love with your husband and you call it a fluke? You baffle me, Madame," 
he said, accenting the dame, "Please explain." 

A flush of coral tinted the lovely firm cheeks of the embarrassed young 
wife. She heaved an audible and resigned sigh. "It's so difficult to talk 
about, Dr. Berger," she sighed again. 

"Yes, of course. And particularly when you are sitting on the edge of the 
couch as tense as a witness under hostile interrogation. I do not wish to 
interrogate you, Mrs. Yarbrough. You have come to me for professional 
assistance, and that is what I am qualified to give you. But you must 
cooperate to the extent that you are willing to allow yourself to relax. 
Without your cooperation, I am powerless to do anything but sit here for 
fifty minutes and take your money. And that, I am not willing to do!" 

"I'm sorry, Dr. Berger. You're right, of course. I'll try," she said, 
heaving another sigh. Her hands clutched the handbag tightly. Her knees were 
pressed together as she scooted back six inches on the couch. 

"Put the handbag down, please. Kick off your shoes and lie down on the 
couch, Mrs. Yarbrough." He was getting up, moving to the window, adjusting 
the blinds to occlude the thin horizontal slices of light that striped the 
thick wool carpet. He drew the draperies together on their traverse rod 
before he stepped in front of his desk and flicked on an oscillating light 
whose pinwheeling gyrations patterned a twelve-inch portion of the beige 
ceiling. The psychiatrist leaned against the broad walnut desk and crossed 
his arms on his chest, the ever-present French cigarette between the second 
and third fingers of his left hand, European style. "Don't think about 
anything now except how wonderful it feels to lie down, to stretch out on 
the nice, comfortable couch and relax ..." 

Denise knew that he was going to hypnotize her, and though she felt 
apprehensive, she really wanted the responsibility of a totally conscious 
"confession" removed from her. The shame, the guilt, the embarrassment ... 
all those would be obliterated in the comforting shadows of the subconscious 
... perhaps ... she wasn't sure ... she had never been hypnotized before, 
but she had done a lot of reading on the subject before deciding to see Dr. 
Berger. And he had disclosed his intention to use the tool of hypnosis, if 
necessary, during the course of his psychiatric therapy. Now it was 
beginning ... 

"Just relax completely, Mrs. Yarbrough, ' he told her, his voice mellowing 
like vintage cognac, "and look at the beautiful wheel of light above you. It 
is captivating, isn't it? Something about that endlessly revolving wheel of 
light that makes you want to watch and watch, not thinking about anything 
else, only the light, the beautiful soft colors revolving on the ceiling 
above you ... so relaxing, so very relaxing. You feel like just lying there, 
perfectly relaxed, perfectly at peace with yourself, just watching the 
spinning light. You feel so relaxed that you can't move. Your arms are heavy 
as lead. Your legs and feet are like lead, sinking deeper and deeper into 
the soft, comforting caressing leather couch, which is like a soft deep 
cloud, a cloud that is beginning to float, despite your weight, despite your 
heaviness, the weight of your arms and legs, your head. And as you float on 
the buoyant cloud you feel even more relaxed, so deeply relaxed that the 
light seems to spin faster and faster, it grows brighter and brighter. So 
fast is it spinning, and so bright are the colored circles of light, that 
you feel you must close your eyes now, to relax even deeper into the soft, 
caressing cloud beneath you. You must close your eyes, but even with them 
closed you can still see the wheel of light. Even now, with your eyes 
closed, the light whirls madly around and around ... around and around and 
around ..." 

The young woman lay as still as a stone, her breathing was deep and 
rhythmical. She was not unconscious, not asleep. She was in an intermediate 
stage of controlled relaxation. One part of her brain was fully cognizant of 
everything that was being said by Dr. Berger and why. But the anxiety that 
earlier had inhibited her response, was gone. The psychiatrist gave her a 
few more deep-relaxation suggestions, then began to talk to her. 

"Mrs. Yarbrough, you told me you have been married for two years, is that 
correct?" 

"Yes, Dr. Berger. It was two years in April," the hypnotized patient 
answered. 

"I want you to think back now to your wedding day, to that day in April, 
1974. What day was it again?" 

"April 20th, a Saturday," she answered dreamily. 

"Good. It is that very special Saturday, the 20th of April. Your wedding 
day. Are you nervous, Denise?" 

"Oh, I'm scared to death! After all, I waited a long time for this day. I 
really never thought I'd get married at this late day in life!" She answered 
excitedly. 

"Now you're not that old, Denise! No more than twenty-five or six ..." 

"Thank you, but I'll be thirty-one in September! My new stepson is 17! 1 
don't know whether he'll approve of me or not. He lives with his mother in 
Costa Mesa, you know. But he's coming up for the wedding. He's going to be 
Peter's Best Man! Oh ..." 

There was some anxiety in the patient's voice. Dr. Berger quickly inquired 
about the discomfort. 

"What's the matter, Denise?" 

"This zipper. It's stuck. Help me please, Angela. It's almost time for the 
ceremony!" 

"Yes, yes. There. It's all fixed now, Denise, and you look beautiful. 
Absolutely beautiful. Peter is a very lucky man..." 

"I hope he still feels that way. after tonight ..." 

"Why shouldn't he, Denise? You are beautiful, desirable woman with a 
beautiful woman's body. And he loves you very much, doesn't he?" Dr. Berger 
continued, leading his patient to further revelation. 

"Yes, but ... maybe he won't like me ... in bed. He knows I'm a virgin and 
... what if I fail him somehow?" (There was great anxiety in the patient's 
voice. Dr. Berger debated whether to let her remain in trauma. He decided 
not to press her further at that moment.) 

"Relax, Denise. Sleep ... sleep Denise," he said, his voice an unguent balm 
to the female subject on the couch. "The wedding is over now. The wedding 
night is over ... it is over. Time is passing, passing. Two years have 
passed and it is Peter's birthday. How old is he today?" 

"He's forty-two, but he doesn't look it. Even though he drinks so much ..." 
she volunteered. 

"He can't drink that much, surely" the psychiatrist probed. 

"He can, and does. That's why I dread the party. I know Peter will get 
drunk, and I'll have to get drunk, and I don't want to." 

"But why do you have to get drunk, Denise?" the doctor asked cagily. 

"He says it makes me sexier, and I guess he's right." 

"You mean you don't feel sexy when you haven't been drinking?" 

"Not sexy enough for Peter, I guess," she answered with a sigh. "Actually, I 
think about it a lot. If he hadn't been drunk the night we got married ... 
if that first night had been different, everything would have been different 
... and Peter wouldn't be playing around with girls who are barely older 
than his son. He always was a ladies' man. I knew that when I married him. 
Maybe that's why his first wife divorced him, though that wasn't what he 
told me. He told me she was a frigid bitch. And I guess I must seem like 
one, too. But he was brutal ... that first night. I had all these romantic 
notions about knights on white chargers. I lived in a fantasy world of books 
and music, of poetry and daydreams ... There was something so earthy about 
Peter, so male. He was different from the other men I'd dated; so masculine, 
so solid. And he had a glamourous life, I thought ... being a writer, and a 
travel writer, going off on jaunts around the world all the time. I was with 
a travel agency. Naturally, I took the job because of the travel benefits. I 
met Peter at a cocktail party hosted by Japan Air Lines - there are always 
dos of one sort or another for travel agents. Peter gets invited to all of 
them. I left my job just two months short of getting airline passes; it 
takes a year. But as Peter's wife, I expected to go on lots of trips with 
him ..." 

"And it hasn't worked out that way?" Dr. Berger interrupted. 

"No. Not much. He doesn't want to be stuck with a frigid wife on foreign 
turf. It cramps his style ..." 

"But after the birthday party you were not frigid, were you?" Dr. Berger 
asked the question between puffs of another harsh Gaulois. 

"No. I surprised myself. And I sure surprised Peter Yarbrough, The Flying 
Stud of The Oakland Trib!" She let out a soft flutter of laughter. Dr. 
Berger's thin, russet-red lips curled in a controlled smile. "What happened 
after the party, in the bedroom?" 

"I was high, and I knew it. I drank so much champagne, so fast. It was like 
a delayed replay of our wedding night, and I had the same anxiety. But I was 
determined to give of Peter the present he kept hinting for. I knew he had 
to be high, too. But he didn't seem like it. 

"I started to feel horny - oh, there have been many times when I felt as 
though I would combust spontaneously from sheer desire. The fluttering in 
the belly, the wetness between the legs, the overpowering urge to squeeze my 
legs together whenever I sat down ... That night the gnawing, prodding 
sensations were even stronger. It had to be the champagne..." 

"Why do you feel it had to be the champagne, Denise?" Berger cut in again. 

"Because he turned me off that first night," she answered with a tone of 
exasperation in her voice. 

"What did he do that turned you off, Denise. You can feel perfectly at ease 
with me. You can tell me everything," the shrink said, his voice dripping 
with liquid honey. Let's go back to your wedding night, there in the room 
where your bridegroom is waiting. He is impatient, isn't he?" 

"Oh God, yes!" she answered, her brow knotting in the center. 

"Because you are spending too much time in the bathroom, perhaps?" the canny 
psychiatrist offered. "Hey, hurry up in there! I've been waiting a long time 
for this night, Mrs. Yarbrough!" he added unexpectedly, changing his tone of 
voice. The reclining figure on the couch started a bit at the sound of her 
"bridegroom's voice." Deep in her subconscious, she was reliving her wedding 
night, the memory of all that transpired a vivid color film reshown on the 
screen of her brain ... 

* * * 



She watched her reflection in the mirror as she began to remove her clothes, 
lifting the dress over her head carefully to avoid mussing her hair. With 
quick nervous movements, she pulled off everything but her bra and panties, 
then paused to stare at her reflected image. Her pale ivory skin was flushed 
from the high sharp cheekbones to the delicately tapered chin. Her 
dark-fringed blue eyes shone like opals. Miniscule beads of perspiration 
dotted the curvature of flesh above her soft, full upper lip as she reached 
behind her back to unfasten the hooks of her lacy bra. 

Her full, round breasts virtually burst from the constricting undergarment, 
the pink nipples at the tips like the infant buds of a rosebush. She cupped 
the firm mounds of upthrust flesh in her hands. The contact of her fingers 
made the pink nipples grow harder until the petal pink aureoles around them 
crinkled with desire. Moving her hands slowly down and across the flat, 
smooth plane of her belly, she pushed her thumbs under the elastic band of 
her blue silk panties, slowly working the filmy bikini over her smoothly 
rounded hips and past the furry mound of her virginal vagina. Her heart was 
beating faster as she anticipated what was to befall that secret orifice, 
which had never known the feel of a man's stiffened penis - only his 
fingers. She blushed harder with embarrassment and pulled the panties back 
over her ripe buttocks, knowing that she could never walk out of the 
bathroom totally naked. Then she reached for the new blue peignoir, slipped 
it over her shoulders and unlocked the bathroom door. 

She gasped as she saw her bridegroom lying stark naked on the big four 
poster bed, a halt=empty glass of champagne in one hand, his hardening penis 
in the other. She smiled bravely, hoping for his approval, trying not to 
look down between his legs. 

Peter only stared back at her with heavy-lidded eyes, taking in every inch 
of her exquisite body with lusting, repacious interest. 

Suddenly he threw down his glass and bolted across the room at her like a 
rampaging steer. She gasped aloud. He was upon her in a flash, his nude body 
practically colliding into her thinly veiled nakedness, his powerful arms 
encircling her body like the tentacles of a giant octopus. 

"Peter! Don't!," she cried out, but his mouth was already seeking her soft, 
yielding mouth, drawing her lips apart with a kiss that seemed to consume 
her whole body. His tongue drove into the warmth of her oral cavity like an 
adder, filling her taste buds with the sour and pungent propwash of 
champagne and tobacco. The kiss was hard and rough, but not as hard as the 
shaft of flesh that pressed insistently into her loins, wetting her skin 
with the copious sticky ooze that seeped from the tip of the blood-engorged 
head. The fiery witness of his manhood pressed into her body with a heat she 
never imagined possible. She was terrified. How could she ever accommodate 
such a rigid pole of fiery flesh into her unstretched, virginal pussy? 

She had not long to ponder the question. Peter lifted her boldly into his 
arms and staggered with her over to the big bed and dropped her. He fell on 
top of her then, clawing at the filmy new peignoir in an effort to rip the 
intruding garment from between them. 

"Peter! Noooo! Not like this!" she cried out as his sharp teeth bit into the 
tender flesh of her naked breasts. "Ooooowww, you're hurting them ... please 
don't bite them!" 

It was obvious to Dr. Berger that the patient's husband was chewing on her 
ripe breasts voraciously. He felt his own cock harden at the lurid scene he 
was vicariously witnessing through his patient's reenactment of the wedding 
night trauma. The idealistic bride, a virgin long past the customary 
defloration period, which occurs for most females between fifteen and 
seventeen; sexual repressions, masturbation guilt. The over-anxious groom, 
fortified with alcohol and fired with impatience, his libido unrestrained. 
Suppressed anger and the guilt that accompanies it, also suppressed. 
Infidelity guilt and anger towards the first wife, which he gives expression 
to through the brutalizing assault on his frightened bride. It is a loyalty 
test, his aggressive tendencies seeking alienation of the woman he "loves" 
while his deep sense of inadequacy asks for his mother's condoning approval: 
I am being a bad boy, but Mother will forgive me. Yes, classic ... 

Denise Yarbrough's subconscious faithfully reproduced every detail of her 
sexual initiation. She recoiled in horror as her new husband's hands and 
lips mauled her helpless body as though she were a captured rabbit and he, 
the conquering hound. 

He ripped her panties off her body and flung them across the room, heedless 
of his actions. He was a man gone wild, his face a mask of demented lust, 
and she couldn't believe that this was the charming, witty, sensitive human 
being who had courted her so cleverly in the two months before they were 
married. At first he had been incredulous when she had told him she was a 
virgin. In fact, he laughed in her face, a thing that hurt her deeply, 
though she never revealed the extent of his affront to her. When finally he 
did understand that she not only was a virgin but intended to remain one 
until marriage, his sarcasm vanished and he treated her with genuine 
deference - she was the first woman, he claimed, who had ever refused him. 

But he also made it clear that he would have to go elsewhere to relieve the 
urgent needs of his manhood, from time to time. She agreed that the 
biological priorities of men were more demanding than those of women and 
said no more about it. Actually, she felt almost relieved at Peter's candid 
intentions; it took the pressure off of her and allayed any guilt that she 
had about withholding her feminine favors from him until after the wedding 
vows. She had long dreamed and fantasized about her wedding night, how her 
husband would take her tenderly in his arms and kiss her eyelids gently ... 
how there would be the long, agonizing denial in which he kindled the fires 
of her body with exquisite tenderness and finesse, finally entering her body 
to catapault her into a sphere of ecstasy such as she had read about in 
stories written in some of the bolder women's magazines. It would go on and 
on forever, until the first light of morning blued the bridal chamber. Then 
she would fall asleep in his arms and dream of the raptures that had visited 
her body ... 

Instead, her body had been used as an instrument for his pleasure. Through 
sheer, lust-incited force he had bent her flesh to his will, taking her 
virginity with a callous, hymen-tearing disregard that left an indelible 
impression of pain and debasement in her mind. She made a covenant with 
herself, though not consciously, that she would punish him for his bestial 
despoilment of her body, and her fantasy ... 

It was really the affront to her fantasy that she resented most. In tearing 
her hymen the way he did, like an animal, a rapist, a stallion mounting a 
mare, he had torn her dreams apart. 

There had been so many times prior to the wedding, when he had kissed her 
passionately goodnight and left her to lie in her bed alone, when her 
thoughts had culminated in heated gnawing desire deep in her lower belly. At 
those times, she couldn't resist probing her vagina with her fingers, 
bringing herself to some kind of orgasmic satisfaction. But her fingers 
proved less than adequate, and she longed for the feel of his organ inside 
her aching cunt. She was convinced that Peter would bring her to the heights 
of sexual pleasure in the way that a man can. 

Now, on her wedding night, she was too fearful and too outraged by his 
attack on her to feel any real pleasure. She pleaded with him when his 
fingers wormed hotly into the soft folds of her vagina. Even as he rubbed 
them harshly against her clitoris, she felt nothing but anguish. She was 
totally unprepared for his aggressive behavior, so his heedless poking 
became a source of debasement, of humiliation. 

Her cunt walls were tightly clenched when he drove his fingers into the warm 
virgin passage in a hurried attempt to prepare her for his entry. Then he 
was hovering over her, his throbbing blood-filled cock poised menacingly at 
the virgin entrance of her pussy. His eyes were ablaze with lust as he 
stared down at her nakedly quivering pubic mound ... 

"Please, Peter... please be gentle. Please go slowly. Not so fast! Not like 
that! Awwarrggh! Aaahhh, owwww!" 

What a bastard, a dummkopf!, Dr. Berger thought privately. The schwein 
should be castrated! 

The long column of veined flesh split wide her soft, curl-rimmed pussy lips 
and fucked its way inside the tender passage relentlessly until the tip 
slammed hard against her belly up inside. 

"Uuuunnnggghhh ... uuunnngghh!" the supine patient grunted as her mind's eye 
engaged her body in a memorial assault on her helplessly spread young 
vagina. The huge slippery cock was fucking in and out of her furiously, 
delivering punishing blows to her cock-filled cunt, filling her with a 
horrible dread. It was a nightmare that went on and on until finally, he 
heaved forward, crushing her under his weight as he filled her 
cock-stretched young cunt to the brim with boiling spurts of viscous white 
semen. 

The patient had broken out in a sweat and was breathing coarsely on the 
leather couch. She groaned and fretted in her hypnotic trance. Dr. Berger 
quickly alleviated her discomfort. 

"It's all right now, Denise. The pain is gone. There is no pain any more, 
only pleasant relaxation. You are very relaxed, you feel wonderful now..." 

Slowly the patient's breathing returned to normal. Dr. Berger held her wrist 
as he looked at the illuminated dial on his wristwatch. The pulse was 
decelerating. He continued giving her therapeutic suggestions until the 
pulse rate hovered around 75 beats per minute, safely within the normal 
range. The fifty-minute hour was about up. Ten minutes to go. It was time to 
bring her back to the non-hypnotic state. 

"You are going to wake up very soon, Denise. I am going to count backwards 
from ten to one, and when I reach one and snap my fingers, you will wake up 
instantly. Your eyes will open and you will feel alert and refreshed, as 
though you have had a sound night's sleep. You will not have any memory of 
the things you experienced in your hypnotic state, nor of anything said to 
me during that testimony. I repeat, you will have no memory of anything 
spoken or remembered during this relaxation session. Next week, when you 
come to me for your appointment, I will snap my fingers twice and give you 
the command, "Sleep!", and you will immediately close your eyes and fall 
into a willess state where you obey only the sound of my voice. You will 
respond to my questions fully and honestly, because you know that I am 
helping you... 

"Now I am going to count backwards from ten to one, Denise. Ten - you are 
beginning to wake up from a long, delicious sleep. Nine - you feel an 
increasing lightness in your body ..." 

The psychiatrist was walking over to the window as he spoke, drawing open 
the draperies ... 

"Six - you are closer and closer to wakefulness..." 

... pulling open the blinds to admit the horizontal ribbons of light, then 
walking back to his desk ... 

"Three - you are almost fully awake now..." ... lighting yet another 
unfiltered cigarette from the dull blue packet on his desk ... 

"Two - you are ready to awaken now, ready to resume your activities with 
renewed energy ..." 

He sat down at his desk and half disappeared into the red cocoon ... 

"... confident, self-assured, a beautiful young woman who can successfully 
cope with the pressures of life ..." 

He snapped his fingers as he said, "One!" He sat back confidently, the smoke 
from his cigarette crowning him with a wreath of gray. Denise opened her 
eyes right on cue. She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment, then, fully 
aware of where she was, looked over at the small man in the oversized chair 
and smiled quite becomingly. 

"How do you feel, Mrs. Yarbrough?" he asked casually. 

"Oh, wonderful! Absolutely marvelous. When are we going to start the 
hypnosis, Doctor?" 

"We finished it for today, Mrs. Yarbrough. Don't you remember?" His voice 
was calm, well-modulated. He looked at her steadily, his obscene lips curled 
in a coy smile. 

"We did? You mean, you hypnotized me... already?" she blurted out. She was 
sitting up now, smoothing her hair, slipping her shoes back on, a look of 
puzzlement on her lovely face. Then she looked at her watch. Her mouth flew 
open in disbelief. She had been there for forty-nine minutes! 

"It's true. I can't believe it!" 

"I think we are making good progress, Mrs. Yarbrough. You are an excellent 
subject," he said as he rose from his enveloping chair. "I look forward to 
seeing you again next week." He held out his hand to help her up from the 
couch. They shook hands warmly, then he ushered her out the door. Denise was 
feeling on top of the world. 

 Chapter 2 

The next time she visited Dr. Berger's office, the psychiatrist had only to 
snap his fingers and give the command, "Sleep!" and Denise was instantly 
transported into a deep hypnotic trance. Lying on her back on the soft 
leather couch, she waited for instructions from her therapist. 

"Now Denise," he began in a syrupy, well-modulated professional voice, "I 
want you to go back to the night of the birthday party, to afterwards, when 
all the guests had left and you were alone with Peter in the bedroom. What 
happened first?" 

The patient spoke slowly, deliberately, reliving every detail as though it 
had happened eight minutes ago, rather than eight days. 

"I started to undress... my bra and panties. Peter was watching me, his eyes 
bright with lust, a curious self-satisfied smile on his lips ..." 

"How did that make you feel, Denise?" 

"Nervous ... I felt nervous - and afraid." 

"Why would you feel afraid in front of your own husband, Denise?" the doctor 
pried. 

"I ... I didn't want him to see the wetness ... It showed through my 
panties. I didn't want him to know I was turned on..." 

"Why? Were you afraid he would rape you, the way he did on your wedding 
night?" 

"Yes," came the monosyllabic reply. 

"What did he do then?" 

"He began to pull down his pants. Just what is it you're interested in?" 
(Denise had suddenly transferred her description into dialogue. Dr. Berger 
shrewdly picked up on the transition.) 

"You tell me, Denise," he answered, "What did I say?" 

"Finally you said, "Fucking you! Fucking you like you've never been fucked 
before! That's what I want, baby!" 

"And how do you react to that?" the doctor probed some more. 

"It doesn't repulse me. In fact, it makes chills go up my spine. It makes me 
think lewd thoughts." 

"Then what happened, Denise?" 

"He put his hands around my waist and pulled me close to his naked body. His 
erect penis slidbetween my smooth inner thighs. There was a look of purpose 
in his eyes that I had never seen before. He said, `You're going to know 
what fucking is, really is by the time I finish with you, baby. Say it! Tell 
me how you want it! Say you want me to fuck you good!' I was blushing 
because I felt embarrassed at being excited by his lewd statement, his 
determination and his naked body pressed against mine. His hard cock was 
pressed between my thighs, demanding something from me, and I knew what it 
was. I wanted to be lewd and vile - like a whore - if only to give him the 
present he wanted most, and to make a fresh try at keeping our marriage 
intact. It gave me courage to say it, to say what he wanted to hear." 

"And what was that, Denise?" 

"I... I want you to... to fuck me! I want you to fuck me hard, Peter!" 

Feeling his own cock stiffen, the psychiatrist shifted nervously from one 
foot to the other as he puffed energetically on his Gaulois cigarette. He 
looked down at the beautiful woman who was exciting him with the recounting 
of her most intimate marital experiences. Ach!, how he would love to fall on 
top of her and plunge his hot organ into her inviting little cove! But he 
was her psychiatrist, and the ethics of his profession forbid seduction of a 
patient, particularly under hypnosis. That was beneath contempt, though God 
knows how many times it had happened among his unscrupulous colleagues! He 
preferred her to succumb to his "charms" under conditions of full 
consciousness. Undoubtedly, she would . ... 

"What did Peter do then?" 

"Peter leaned forward, his mouth open, and kissed me, driving his tongue 
into my mouth. He pulled me tight against him. I could feel his cock 
twitching excitedly while his strong hands roamed all over my body. He was 
kissing me feverishly and I returned his kisses passionately. Then he lifted 
me up and carried me over to the bed, just like he did on our wedding night. 
But this time he put me down gently, almost tenderly. It really surprised 
me. He lay down beside me then and placed his hand on my stomach, then eased 
my panties down very carefully, as though he didn't want to tear them. He 
reached around behind my back and pulled at my bra, finally undoing the 
hooks. My nipples were already hard - I was more stimulated than I had ever 
been, I think ..." 

"Why do you suppose you were?" Dr. Berger asked as he walked around to the 
other side of his desk and opened a drawer. 

"He was different ... slow ... gentle. He was sexy." 

Berger took a wad of Kleenex from a square box. There was an enormous 
protrusion in his fly. As he casually walked around to the front of the desk 
again, he unzipped his fly ... 

The patient continued: "... was kissing me again, licking down my neck, 
making goosebumps pop out all over my flesh. I curled my toes and opened my 
legs wider as he moved down my chest to my breasts. He opened his mouth wide 
and breathed his hot breath over them, making my nipples even harder. He 
took one of them in his mouth, laying his warm, wet tongue over it and 
groaning - like he was savoring a delicious morsel of food!" 

Dr. Berger was savoring his patient's description of her husband's advances 
to her as he slowly stroked his hard, wet prick, imagining himself in bed 
with the delectable Mrs. Yarbrough. 

"He licked it furiously around the nipple, then sucked half my breast into 
his mouth... Oooohh, oh ... darling, that's soooo good!" (She was writhing 
on the couch now, caught up in the replay of that night's excitement. Berger 
stroked his cock a little more energetically, sucking his breath in between 
his teeth and closing his eyes rapturously for moments at a time.) 

"You're like my virgin bride all over again," he told me, "I feel like it's 
the first time. The smell of you, the feel of your warm, satin skin - you're 
an aphrodisiac, Denise ..." 

Berger was going crazy. His hand pumped up and down along the length of his 
hardened shaft. "Wh-at h-happened then?" he asked tremulously. 

"He sucked my breasts and nipples some more, then he drew back and, with his 
tongue extended, traced a path down my body... down to my pubic triangle. I 
didn't realize what he had in mind - I was already carried away from 
everything that had happened before. But then, when his head moved even 
lower, I knew he was going to ... to lick me between the legs. No, Peter! 
You mustn't do that! It's not right! Let go of my hips. Don't pull my legs 
apart like that ... Peter!" 

She went on, talking freely in her hypnotic trance, telling the good doctor 
everything, making him a willing voyeur who "saw" everything that went on in 
the Yarbrough's bedroom that night. And this is what went on... 



A tiny droplet of her seeping lubricating fluid moistened the fringe of her 
softly furred pussy, then more was visible as her vagina opened up like a 
flowering blossom covered with dew. Her clitoris stood up like a tiny pink 
bud of pleasure, and Peter slowly placed his thumbs on her vaginal opening, 
spreading the soft resilient curls of dark blonde pubic hair apart with 
deliberately tantalizing moves. The coral colored flesh of her pussy was 
completely exposed to his gaze. The hot air of his breath was grazing her 
sensitive nerves and she drew in her own breath as she felt his head move 
closer to her open vagina. Then it happened, and her whole body jerked 
convulsively as his warm wet tongue shot out of his mouth to probe teasingly 
into her quivering cunt. 

A groan escaped from her throat as she ground her hips helplessly down into 
the bed and tried to draw her legs together in an effort to keep the tongue 
from driving her insane, but her husband was too strong for her, and he held 
her legs wide apart and chuckled obscenely as he ground his head into the 
open split between her legs. He covered her clitoris with heated tonguings, 
sucking it up into his mouth as though it were another nipple. Electric 
jolts of passion hit her as she felt his teeth sinking into the sensitive 
nerve. Like a wanton whore, she threw out her legs, kicking them wide apart 
to his lingual assault. 

"Aaaaggghhh! Ooohhh!" she cried out from the couch. "Aaahhh, ooohhh," Dr. 
Berger whispered under his breath as he stroked his cock harder, thoroughly 
caught up in his vision of the lovely blonde patient being eaten by her 
husband. How he would love to taste her delectable pussy himself! 

Denise Yarbrough relived the excitement she experienced on the night of her 
husband's birthday ... 

"He slipped his hands under my buttocks and lifted me up higher in the air, 
closer to his probing tongue..." 

He squeezed the firm flesh, holding the cheeks of her buttocks while he ran 
his tongue around and around in the soft wet valley of her cunt, slowly and 
deliberately easing his way down to the opening of her cuntal channel. The 
elastic tight orifice seemed to throb and flower open to the touch of his 
tongue, and with deadly accuracy, he probed deeper and deeper up inside her 
hotly quivering passage. 

Denise was screaming in helpless ecstasy, her inhibitions erased, despite 
her stern and repressive upbringing. She chided herself for not letting 
Peter do it before, or any other man. She never knew what she was missing, 
never realized such fantastic pleasure existed. She also discovered the 
latent sexuality that had remained, like the mass of an iceberg, nine-tenths 
below the surface. 

Driving his tongue like a hissing cobra in and out of her cunt, Peter felt 
his wife give in to his cunt-thrilling ministrations, and he roamed around 
the smooth white crevice of her buttocks with his hands. Finding the curving 
valley with his fingers, he spread the cheeks apart while he continued to 
orally fuck her with his tongue. She had lifted up her legs so that they 
were locked around his neck, and she pushed her erotically awakening cunt 
against his mouth with increasing intensity arid abandon. She was giving in 
to it for certain and Peter felt confident enough to push his middle finger 
into the softly yielding crevice of her buttocks in search of her little tan 
anus. When he touched the puckered little hole she cried out deliriously 
and, without waiting for her protest, wormed his finger inside the warm, 
clenching rectal passage. 

Denise was totally confused by the sensual pleasure that streaked through 
her impassioned body. She was being assaulted by two pleasuregiving 
instruments simultaneously and she wanted to scream in rapture as unknown 
pleasures danced through her body like multiple explosions. 

"Ooooohhhh ... God ... Peter!" she cried. Denise raised her hips off the 
psychiatrist's leather couch as she reenacted her response to her husband's 
actions: 

His tongue was poking at her anus now, trying to slip up inside. Goosebumps 
covered her body. Her complete degradation was overwhelming in her mind, and 
she was stunned at her loss of control. 

She tossed her blonde head from side to side as the pleasure-giving tongue 
kept licking on and on, jumping from her vagina to her anus and back again 
with complete freedom, and her body began to shake with the raw nerve-ends 
of pleasure. She stopped fighting the intense delight she was experiencing, 
giving in to his lewd desires completely. She began to cry, but only because 
of the joy ... joy she had so long denied herself. She raised her desiring 
loins to her husband, fully prepared to submit to his every whim. She ground 
her bare throbbing cunt up against his face, revelling in the insane throes 
of lusting passion that overtook her. 

There was no doubting the complete alteration in Denise's attitude, and 
Peter took his oral fucking to task, wanting to bring her to climax with his 
tongue before he threw it to her with his aching cock. She had never 
submitted to his advances so completely before, and until that moment, he 
had just about given up ever making it totally with her. She was really 
hotter and wilder than he'd dared hope for, and he knew for the first time 
in their marriage that he would get her all the way. Working his tongue 
furiously now into the wetly sucking depths of her cunt, he stroked and 
teased it until he had to come up for breath. 

"Ooooohhh! God! That's soooo goooodd! Lick it harder, darling! Lick it 
harder!" Denise cried out from the couch. A few feet away from the 
hypnotized woman, Dr. Berger was stroking his way to a self-induced climax. 
Beads of perspiration clung to his forehead, his boney knees were bent and 
his watery, steel-grey eyes bulged from their sockets. His mouth was open, 
the passage for expired breath, which was loud and coarse. He held his rigid 
cock in one hand, and in the other, the wad of pristine white Kleenex. 

"Ooooohhh, God! Please lick it harder!" she chanted as she felt the 
sensations building and building within her. Her face was tense with 
animalistic passion. Peter lapped harder between her open thighs with his 
maddeningly swirling tongue. She felt his hands teasing at every sensitive 
part of her body like hot fingers of flame; her. breasts, rectum, clitoris - 
all points of sensation were aroused more than they ever had been in her 
life. She was soaring, climbing, ascending the heights of carnal passion. 
She was there! 

"Ooooohhh, God! I'm ... I'm going to cum! Yessssss ... I'm 
cuuuuummmmmiiiinnnnggg! 

And so was Dr. Berger. As the lovely patient jerked and heaved on the couch, 
imagining that she was cumming against her husband's hungrily sucking mouth, 
the elfin-sized psychiatrist shot his wad into the wad of tissues in his 
left hand, reeling against the broad walnut desk as his body shook 
convulsively forward and his eyes rolled upward into 'his head. 

Denise Yarbrough twisted wildly on the couch, the leading lady in the erotic 
drama that was being shown on the screen of her subconscious, as the hot 
spasms of orgasm flooded through her body and the juices from her heated 
cunt gushed out of her carnivorous pussy and onto her husband's greedily 
sucking mouth. She screamed her joy over and over, her body a new receptacle 
of erotically bursting desire. 

Finally she sank back onto the "bed" (and Dr. Berger hobbled around the desk 
and sank back into his enveloping cocoon of leather, letting his arms hang 
limply over the upholstered red chair arms) her body sated from her 
husband's tongue fucking. 

Opening her eyes, she was embarrassed to see the grin of triumph on her 
husband's cum-coated face. His huge throbbing pole stood out menacingly from 
his groin. Her eyes widened when he reached down to stroke it. 

"I'm going to fuck you now!" he said through bared teeth, thrusting his hips 
forward to emphasize his intention. 

A new surge of wantonness grew in her being as she looked at the tip of his 
penis, studying the blood-engorged head with its tiny "eye" weeping tears of 
seminal lubrication. She studied the veiny shaft then, in all its throbbing 
length, realizing the pain it could inflict upon her. 

He said: "I'm going to fuck you better than you can possibly imagine! You're 
going to find out finally what real down-home fucking is all about!" His 
eyes narrowed as he looked down at her juicy cunt. "I'm going to fuck you 
doggie-fashion. Turn over! 

He grabbed her by the waist and rolled her over, lifting her into a kneeling 
position that left her buttocks waving defensively in the air. Denise wasn't 
sure how to react, but the position was both debasing and exciting. She 
realized that she had never allowed Peter to be very experimental - they had 
never departed from the standard missionary position, which she didn't like 
much. It wasn't comfortable like that, trying to wrap her legs around his 
waist. It hurt her stomach muscles, too, though she conceded that it was a 
good toner for the tummy. 

Looking down between the valley of her breasts, she saw him plant his knees 
between her legs to hold them wide apart. He could see everything! And so 
could she. His hairy testicles swayed beneath his hard penis as he scooted 
up close to her. The. thick purple tip of his cock was pointing up between 
her thighs, almost pressing into her moist pink pussy. 

"Reach back and take it' in your hand. Guide it up inside," he told her. 

"Oh, God!" she moaned helplessly, as she reached back between her legs and 
wrapped her hand around the thick column of flesh. Guiding the hard, fleshy 
shaft into the passion-drenched hole, she parted the drenched pubic curls, 
then her lips. 

Peter was on fire with impatient longing for release. He thought he would 
cum just from the contact with her heated pussy. This was the first time his 
wife had ever been half-way receptive to him, and her thundering orgasm had 
really turned him on more than he had ever been with her - except on their 
wedding night, and he winced every time he thought of his boorish, brutish 
display of animalism with his frightened new bride. Perhaps that's why he 
hadn't made many sexual demands on her since. He felt guilty as hell for the 
way he had taken her that night, and by not forcing her after that, he 
somehow hoped to buy her forgiveness. But tonight was different. Tonight was 
his birthday, and he knew she was prepared to go along with whatever fun he 
had in mind. He wasn't prepared for her to enter into things so 
enthusiastically. 

Shoving his hips forward with desperate urgency, Peter pressed his cock 
against the tightly restricting passage to her belly, and the thick head 
popped inside and sank slowly into the tight warmth of the fearfully 
quivering little hole between her thighs. 

"Oooohh!" she moaned helplessly as she lurched away from the giant 
mercilessly throbbing rod driving into her loins. But Peter held her tightly 
to him with his hands on her hips. 

Pushing again, he drove the mammoth column an inch inside her tiny, 
fearfully palpitating opening, slowly impaling her soft cuntal depths. He 
couldn't wait to have his throbbing cock totally wrapped in the warm, wet 
walls of her proud little cunt. Inch by inch he thrust his way into her, 
slowly filling her tight passage with the lusthardened length of his huge 
column. She felt as though she were being stretched to the bursting point by 
his entry, and she could clearly feel every wrinkle of the massive cock 
through the sensitive walls of her vagina. Suddenly he lurched, and drove 
his shaft all the way up her belly. 

"AAAGGGHHH!" she cried, more from surprise than pain, as her passage was 
slowly but surely becoming accustomed to the giant cock inside her. In spite 
of her fear, her groan became one of pleasure. Then Peter thrust even deeper 
into her nakedly open cunt, the tip of his cock striking hard against her 
cervix. She grunted, feeling his wiry pubic hair pressing into the crevice 
of her buttocks, and at the last of his probe, his balls swung forward to 
slap noisily up between the flesh of her soft inner thighs. 

Immediately he began fucking in and out of her tightly clenched passage, the 
long hard strokes pounding deep up inside her womb, striking her cervix 
relentlessly. He stared down at her slavishly kneeling form, her buttocks 
grinding back sensuously to his driving rhythm, her smoothly hollowing back 
sloping down at the waist like a virgin ski slope. Her blonde hair swirled 
around her smooth shoulders as she flailed her head. She was more sensual 
than he had ever seen her before, and it made the sperm in his balls stir 
with passionate frenzy, urging him towards the ultimate physical joy. 

"Ooooohhh! Oooohhh! Oooohhh!" she cried. She began to chant in time to his 
long hard strokes. She felt every inch of his giant cock as it slid smoothly 
up into her tightly clasping passage to hit bottom, then like a bouncing 
ball, suddenly returning to the beginning of the newly awakened passage. She 
fucked back shamelessly now, raising her buttocks up to each of his downward 
strokes, spreading her thighs wide apart to take him as deep up inside her 
hungrily milking vagina as possible. Nothing else mattered except the 
pleasure giving cock in the flaming passage of her cunt, a cunt that 
pulsated with hungry abandon. There was no longer any question of morals, of 
pride or shame. 

Only the ultimate lusting desire of fucking and being fucked until she could 
no longer move! 

"Yes, darling! Do it! Give it to me!" she shouted as her sexual frenzy grew. 

(Dr. Berger wiped his brow with another wad of Kleenex, sorry, in a way, 
that he had ever led her into this intimate reliving of her unusual sexual 
encounter with her husband. But if he handled her just right, if he gave her 
just the right post-hypnotic suggestion, perhaps he could be privileged to 
enjoy similar favors of passion before the therapy sessions were over ...) 

"What? Do what?" her fantasy husband demanded, squeezing his fingers into 
the soft flesh of her buttocks to force her to submit fully to his wild 
sexual assault. 

"Ooooyyy ... fuck me... fuck me, darling. FUCK ME!" The lewd words came 
catapaulting out of her full, sensuous mouth and Denise knew full well what 
effect they would have on her man. The idea of transforming herself into a 
wanton woman was in itself exciting to her, and she wiggled her ass back 
against the plunging column of his lust-hardened cock with lusting abandon. 
She was filled with a passion she had not thought possible in herself, the 
very pleasure of it magnified a thousand-fold by the lascivious tongue 
fucking she had received a few moments earlier. Nothing had ever been like 
that before. 

Each downward stroke of his hotly searing penis was like a thousand thrills 
of delight, and his sperm-laden balls slapped noisily with flat, fleshy 
smacking sounds up between her desperately straining thighs, adding to her 
pleasure. It was exhilarating! She looked back under her full, lewdly 
dancing breasts to see her soft blonde pubic hair and her tightly clasped 
cunt beneath it being split wide by the driving column of flesh. His cock 
seemed to withdraw until only the very tip of him remained inside her 
vagina, then it would smoothly drive back up into the passion slickened 
channel, the wet uneven lips of her cunt clasping at it hungrily until it 
completely filled the tiny pulsating hole. Peter's pubic hair was tickling 
excitedly into the naked crevice of her buttocks with each hard 
ass-battering thrust, and she felt a tingling sensation that seemed to 
travel all the way up to the tips of her rosy breasts. Her cunt was being 
plowed with long hard thrusts of his cock, and she could feel the joy of it 
all around her salaciously grinding loins. 

What had happened to change his wife into the hotly fucking little sexpot 
she was now was no longer any concern of Peter's. All that really mattered 
was the way she was hungrily grinding her buttocks back against his driving 
prick. He held her tightly, pulling her ripe asscheeks against his groin 
with violent strength, then pushing her away again as he rhythmically fucked 
into her. He wanted to make her scream with the pleasure of his cock; beg 
him to pump his hot sticky cum deep inside her belly until she had milked 
him dry. Her cunt was like melted butter around his throbbing penis, the 
slickly pulsating walls feeling every part of it like a massaging wave. It 
was tight, and he fought off the growing urge in his balls, not wanting to 
cum until she had screamed out her own orgasm. 

"Oooouuuu! Uuuummmhhh!" she moaned as his cock pounded her open vagina 
mercilessly. She struggled to breathe, gasping again and again as her face 
was shoved into the soft mattress by his lunging force. 

Releasing his grip on her hips, Peter fixed his eyes on the white, smoothly 
undulating globes of her buttocks, then reached around in front of her 
marble thighs and inserted his finger into her pussy furrow. Denise let out 
a sigh of pleasure as her husband began to massage the throbbing button of 
her clitoris. He kept pounding into her as he wormed his finger around her 
clitoral area, each manipulation causing her to cry and buck harder against 
him, her loins an inferno of sexual pleasure. The slamming sensations, 
coupled with the skillful fingering wracked her body as she felt the 
mounting crescendo of pleasure coming on. She was going to cum again! 

"Oooohhh ... ooohhh ... ooohhh!" Denise's gasps were like a signal to her 
husband who was fucking her from behind, and he felt the walls of her vagina 
begin to seep wetly with the warmth of her orgasm. Shoving forward with all 
the strength he had, Peter drove his cock as deep as he possibly could into 
her cuntal passage as he worked his finger relentlessly on her heated 
clitoris. Denise screwed her cunt back against his hammering cock like a 
wanton bitch in heat as she reached her climax. 

"Oooohhh ... I'm.. . God! I'm going to again. I'm cuuuummmiiinnnggg! 

The fantastic rush of her surging orgasm spilled out from deep within her 
belly and the heat of her fire flooded out of her contracting cunt like a 
raging river of hot pleasure, clasping and squeezing around the thick column 
of lust buried hard against the base of her insanely jerking body. 

Her kneeling convulsing body flailed on the mattress, her cunt sucking 
feverishly on his cock, while she squeezed the lips of her pussy tightly 
around his pleasure-giving finger and rode it for all she was worth. She was 
wilder than any woman he had ever had, and he fucked into her with the 
growing excitement in his cock that signalled the approach of his own 
orgasm. And suddenly, the sperm in his testicles exploded into a thousand 
white-hot rockets of ecstasy, and his cum traveled, like a tidal wave, along 
the length of the hardened cock until it crashed on the beach of her womb. 
Peter was lost in the incredible rapture of his own climax, and he closed 
his eyes and raised his head as jolt after jolt of joyous sensation matched 
spurt after spurt of his boiling cum. 

The mutual climax seemed to go on forever as they bucked and bounced 
together on the complaining mattress, her screams of joy echoing crazily 
around the room. Finally, her semen-drained husband fell forward, pushing 
her out flat on the bed, his tired body falling heavily on top of hers while 
his spent penis remained buried deep inside her cum-filled pussy ... 

* * * 

Denise was sitting up, putting her shoes back on, running a comb through her 
hair. She couldn't understand why she had that strange wetness in her 
pantyhose. She flushed with embarrassment, grateful that the austere Dr. 
Berger could not divine her thoughts ... 

"Tell me, Mrs. Yarbrough, have you experienced other pleasurable encounters 
with your husband in the bedroom since that night of the birthday party, 
which you described to me as `a fluke'?" the shrink asked her, eyeing her 
carefully. He was an astute observer of body language. 

"Actually, no, Dr. Berger. I guess I was too appalled at my ... my 
uninhibitedness that night. Ever since, I sort of reverted to type, I guess 
- much to my husband's disappointment. I want so badly to be really free." 

"Yes, of course. And you should be. I have the feeling that you are really 
quite a sensuous woman under that prim facade." 

"I am?" She seemed actually surprised, or else she was being a convincing 
actress. She wondered what gave him that idea. 

"Undoubtedly. But your excessively puritanical upbringing has created blocks 
to the full expression of your sexuality. As you understand, this creates 
tension for both you and your husband. You have a little girl quality which 
is quite charming. Nonetheless, it is also part of your defense system, if 
you will allow me to suggest that. After that night of adult lovemaking, you 
- the little girl in you - chastised yourself for what you had been brought 
up to believe was unladylike behavior. You were frightened by your own 
sensuality, fearing that you would lose control. In other words, you would 
lose the little girl inside; the little girl who never wanted to grow up." 

Denise sat on the edge of the couch, her blue eyes wide with amazement, her 
jaw slack. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, and yet, something 
deep within her acknowledged that what the psychiatrist was saying was all 
too true. She hadn't wanted to grow up, in some ways. In some ways, she 
didn't want the responsibility of being an adult, and all that it implied. 
That's why she contrived to alienate every suitor that ever came to her 
door. 

"I hate to admit this, Dr. Berger, but I think you're right." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Yarbrough," he said ironically, showing a hint of 
professional pique. He was the foremost psychiatrist in Oakland ... in the 
world! 

"But what can I do to change," she pleaded, the tone of her voice matching a 
nine year old's. 

"You are on the right track, Mrs. Yarbrough. Hypnosis can accomplish in a 
short time what traditional methods would take months, years to achieve. I 
have another idea, one that may seem unthinkable to you. It is somewhat 
revolutionary, as most of my ideas are. However, I want you to consider it 
very carefully before you decide against it. 

Denise was breathless with anticipation. A little involuntary tremor shook 
her shoulders. "I'll certainly consider any possibility, anything that could 
free me from the sexual shackles I've worn for so long, Doctor. I love my 
husband, and I want to save my marriage. I know I'm at fault just as much as 
Peter for the things that are wrong." 

"Good. Excellent. You know, of course, that your husband represents a father 
figure to you..." 

"Peter? Oh no ..." she protested, but the thought made an impression on her 
mind. 

"... That is why you experience reluctance to give yourself to him freely. 
Incest shocks you, doesn't it?" 

"Well, incest, yes ... But this isn't exactly the same..." 

"In reality, no. But in your mind, it is tantamount to incest. But if you 
were to allow another man to make love to you, one with whom you had no such 
hang-up..." The doctor chuckled at his deliberate use of vulgar American 
slang. It was his condescending blow at hipness. 

"But that's out of the question, Dr. Berger!" she exclaimed hotly, the 
self-righteousness welling in her bosom, "I couldn't be unfaithful to my 
husband, I just couldn't. And besides, there's no one I feel sexually 
attracted to ..." 

She searched her mind. There was no one - except for one person, one man who 
had caused flutterings of desire deep in her belly. But that was out of the 
question. It was unthinkable ... not her own stepson! 

"Are you quite certain, Mrs. Yarbrough?" Berger said, smoothing his matte 
brown moustache with his nicotine-stained middle finger. He felt stirrings 
in his own groin as he remembered his own explosive orgasm while his 
unsuspecting patient relived her cunnilingual climax. "Surely you know 
someone, if only slightly, with whom you could let yourself go enough to 
experience your sexual personna freely. Once your inhibitions were fully 
released, you could then transfer your libidinal drives to your husband ..." 

Denise stared down at the floor. She was weighing every word the 
psychiatrist spoke. Troy looked so much like his father, though his 
personality and nature were different in many ways. No, she couldn't do it. 
She just couldn't! 

"Are you very, very certain there is no man with whom you could experiment, 
even to save your marriage?" the shrink prodded her. "Give yourself some 
time to think about it. We can explore it next week." 

"Yes, Dr. Berger," she said, getting up from the couch and starting for the 
door, "I'll think about it. I'll think it over very carefully ..." 

 Chapter 3 

Dear Dad and Denise - 

Just a quickie to let you know that I'll be arriving at 

Oakland Intl. on Friday, June 18 at 1:30 P.M., PSA Flight 

#204. Hope somebody can be there to meet me. Looking 

forward to seeing you both. Troy 

The good-looking young man scrawled his signature on letter, stuffed it in 
an envelope and licked it. He scratched the address on the front, placed a 
thirteen cent stamp on the right hand corner and stuffed it into the back 
pocket of his sun-faded cutoff Levi's. The phone rang. 

"Hullo?" 

"Troy, it's Neil. Howdja like to boogie tonight with a couple of live ones?" 

"Oh yeah? Just how live are they? Those last two you came up with must of 
come right out of a convent school, man. I don't want to get burned again 
... I'd rather take in a good flick." 

"That's exactly what I had in mind - a good flick. Have you seen WOMAN'S 
BEST FRIEND?" 

"Hey, wait a minute, man. That's hard core stuff," Troy objected. 

"Right. I think it ought to put the ladies in just the right mood for a 
little screwing, don't you?" 

"You're spaceville, man. What kind of lady is going to trot off to a dirty 
flick with us?" he asked, a tone of exasperation in his voice. 

"These ladies, dude!" came the reaffirming reply. "I picked this chick up on 
the Coast Highway today, a hiker. A knockout, with jugs that won't quit. And 
is she hot to trot! Practically let me feel her up in the van! I asked her 
if she wanted to go truckin' tonight, and she practically foamed at the 
mouth. I told her I had a buddy who might be free and she goes, `What a 
coincidence - my girl friend's crashing with me for a week, I know she'd 
love to meet him.' It's all set, man. If the lady's chick friend is anything 
like her..." 

"And if she isn't?" Troy interrupted. He didn't like blind dates. He wanted 
to choose his own woman. He had to call the shots. 

"Easy, dude. Do you want to score or not?" 

"Fuck, yes! But not if it means getting the clap! And not with a dog!" Troy 
shouted back. 

"The dog's in the film, dude. As for the lady, I have a feeling she's going 
to be A OK. Birds of a feather, ya know. And what the hell if she isn't - 
it's still a free fuck! Don't be so goddamned tight, man!" 

"Yeah, well, OK Neil. But she'd better be good, man, or it's the last time 
you're gettin' yours truly to go in blind," Troy emphasized. 

"Cool it, pal. To show you what kind of a buddy I am, I'll let you have 
seconds on my lady if the friend is a turkey. Now is that a buddy, or is 
that a buddy, huh?" 

Troy had to laugh. "Neil, you're a goddamn jewel!" he said, his voice 
reflecting the wide grin on his handsome face. 

"Right on, dude. Right on! Hitch to my pad tonight. We can have some grub 
first, then pick the ladies up around eight ..." 

"You mean we don't have to feed them first?" 

"Shit, no! We're takin' 'em to the flicks, ain't we? Afterwards maybe we'll 
stop at Taco Belle." 

"Neil, you're all heart," Troy chuckled again. 

"Man, in the words of Marie Antoinette, Let 'em eat cock!" 

* * * 

Troy spent the rest of the day doing what he usually did - surfing. He was 
typical of the ubiquitous blonde youths who seem to be spawned by the sea, 
their hair bleached nearly white in the summers from hours under the 
relentless Southern California sun. Troy hung around with the other pier 
rats until the sun went down, his sleek muscular body gilded by the Western 
sun reflected off the shimmering Pacific salt water. Nights were spent 
partying, shooting the breeze with his buddies, or looking for ladies to 
score with. Except when school was in session. 

Peter Yarbrough's son had just finished his freshman year at University of 
California, Irvine, on the Orange County coast. It was natural for him to go 
there, since he had grown up in the area, and lived with his mother in Costa 
Mesa. And that's where the surfing was, on that picturesque strip of 
California coastland between Newport and Laguna Beach. He loved the 
mountains, too, and spent a lot of time hiking and backpacking. Lately he 
had gotten into hang gliding, and loved the fantastic feeling of freedom 
that went with it. Man on his own, just like in the mountains, or in the 
sea. He loved danger, a challenge, and he loved to be part of nature. 

He had a lot of boyish exhuberance, and a "surf's up," go-to-hell way about 
him, which women found irresistible. Of course, not the least part of his 
charm was the clear, almond-shaped crystal blue eyes, and the full pouting 
mouth, and the impish grin which revealed teeth so white, so even they 
appeared to be made of plastic. What a commercial he could do for Ultra 
Brite! His compact body was strong and golden, his muscles taut and supple. 
And he had a shock of sun-streaked golden curls that hung just below his 
ears. Girls loved to run their fingers through his hair, which always 
embarrassed and irritated him somewhat. He felt secretly that if it weren't 
for his strong nose and high cheekbones, he would look like a cupid, and he 
hated his hair. He wished instead that it were stick-straight and no color 
in particular. (Despite his good looks, and the attention he drew from 
females of all ages - he was a "pet" of older women - Troy wasn't the least 
bit conceited or self-impressed. In fact, he was almost shy, which only made 
him more appealing to the opposite sex.) 

By contrast, Neil Winster had shoulder-length brown hair which was poker 
straight and usually hanging in strings around his face. The brown-eyed 
youth was twenty - a year older than Troy - and hadn't outgrown a lankiness 
that usually disappears at the end of adolescence. His tall frame seemed to 
be strung together with wires, like a giant marionette, and he was forever 
tripping over his feet or bumping into things. He had a great sense of humor 
though, and was a buddy you could count on, and that's why Troy liked him. 
Neil also had a brash, gutsy approach to women that the blond youth envied. 
Nobody made out more than Neil. He almost always scored, and he wasn't too 
particular... the name of his game was fucking, and he was a cocksman of the 
first order. 

The girls turned out to be more than he had dared hope for. Neil's lady was 
a tall brunette, with satin hair that hung down to her waist. Her boobs were 
the size of melons, the nipples as big as dimes under the white knit halter 
top she wore. She was a big girl, with a full-blown figure and heavy-lidded, 
seductive eyes that were heavily mascaraed, and her ample ass almost split 
the low-cut bell bottom pants she wore. Her name was Carolyn. 

But if she looked good, Kelly was sensational, a really beautiful girl. Her 
long auburn hair bounced as she walked, framing her oval face. She was very 
freckled under a light sun tan, but on her it looked good. She had sparkling 
green eyes and a ready smile, an easy friendly way about her that made Troy 
feel relaxed and confident. And she was sexy as hell. Good, high boobs, a 
tiny waist, firmly rounded ass, sensational legs, from what he could see. 
She was wearing a jeans skirt that she made herself, and a bright green tank 
top that showed her lovely shoulders and arms to perfection. She had a low, 
sultry voice that was like smoke drifting across water, and Troy felt an 
excitement, an impatience stirring in his loins. 

Did she like "sexy" movies? Did she! Kelly proceeded to talk about DEEP 
THROAT, BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR, THE DEVIL IN MISS JONES and half a dozen 
other porno flicks that Troy had never seen, counting on the fingers of her 
brightly nail-polished hands in the most blase way, as though she was a 
regular customer. How old was she? Eighteen! 

They passed around a couple of joints at Carolyn's apartment and drove to 
Anaheim, stoned mellow. Neil made jokes about the "marital aids" offered for 
sale in the display case of the dingy movie theatre. There were rubber 
dildos of every size, including one of grotesque proportions, turn-on pills, 
"love jellies" and stuff to keep a hard-on going forever, plastic pussies, 
blow-up bedmates and several "adult" books. The management had thoughtfully 
provided a box of pink tissues for those who might require them ... 

The sallow-faced fat man who sold them their tickets didn't even ask for an 
I.D. There wasn't a trace of emotion on his puffy mug, but his eyes darted 
like a lizard's as he scanned both the girls and then, their escorts. In his 
business, you didn't ask questions. You already knew the answers. His job 
was to sell tickets, and he didn't care to whom he sold them. Curiosity had 
vanished with his childhood. 

It took a while for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. After walking up 
and down the aisle a bit, Neil finally motioned them to a side area towards 
the front. There weren't many guys there. In fact, the theatre was only 
half-full. Mostly midde aged men, a few teenagers who laughed too loud to 
cover their embarrassment, and a few couples. Now and then you could hear 
the crackle of a candy bar wrapper, or something dropped on the floor. But 
mostly, it was very, very quiet, except for the action on the screen. 

Troy had never been to a porno flick with a girl, though he didn't tell Neil 
that, and he found himself slunking down in his seat, staring straight 
ahead, not wanting to look at the luscious redhead he had brought. The 
second feature was on. 

"Goddamn!" Troy exclaimed under his breath as he watched the couple on the 
screen. The naked actress was kneeling over the sprawled body of a dude, her 
knees straddling his head. Her long dark hair dangled to the floor as she 
knelt over his groin on her elbows, her head poised above his cock! She 
looked up at the camera and smiled, licking her lips deliberately as she 
readied herself for her prurient task. She looked back over her shoulder, 
wiggling her buttocks wantonly in her co-actor's face. 

There was a cut to her backside, to the naked furrow between her plump 
asscheeks. The dude had his hands on the two globes of ass flesh, pulling 
the cheeks apart to give the audience an even better view of the girl's 
crotch. Suddenly he positioned his finger right at the entrance to her anus 
and started making tiny teasing circles around it with his index finger. The 
girl lurched forward and tossed her head in the air. The camera showed a 
look of delight and encouragement on her pretty face. Her breasts hung 
pendulously from her chest and swayed back and forth as she wiggled with 
pleasure. Suddenly the dude pushed his finger right inside her anus! The 
girl bucked and sighed, saying: "Oh, that's the way, baby. Finger-fuck my 
asshole, daddy!" 

She opened her mouth wide and slowly leaned down further and further until 
she had most of his stiff cock in her mouth. Then slowly, very slowly, she 
drew her head up again, as though she were sucking on a giant lollipop. The 
dude had huge balls, and she cupped them in her other hand, rolling them 
around and squeezing them against each other very deliberately. 

Troy felt the blood rush to his temples. But not only there! His cock was 
rock-hard, despite himself, and he shifted in his seat, placing his ankle on 
top of his other knee in an effort to minimize the noticeable bulge in his 
pants. Kelly shifted too, scooting down a little in her seat and planting 
her feet on the floor so that her creamy thighs were spread. She startled 
him by casually placing her small hand on his thigh! 

There was a shot of the actor's mouth, with his long, beefy tongue pointing 
straight at the girl's cunt! He wagged it obscenely from between his purple 
lips as he continued to ream her anus with his finger. Suddenly he withdrew 
his finger and wiped it on the girl's white ass. She leaned back into him 
then, and his tongue disappeared in her vagina. 

Kelly's hand moved a little bit higher on his thigh. Troy didn't know 
whether to stop her or to let her do what she wanted to do. Maybe he was old 
fashioned, but there was something in her aggressiveness that bothered him. 
He wanted to take the initiative. He reached for her hand and squeezed it in 
his own, holding it in place. 

A quick sidelong glance at the couple to his right told him that they were 
already getting it on. Neil's hand was in the crotch of Carolyn's white bell 
bottom's, and she was holding onto the bulge in his fly! Damn! 

On the beaded screen in front of them, the dark-haired actress was now 
sucking the actor's cock with a vengeance; he was tonguing her cunt with 
fervor. It wouldn't win an OSCAR, but he was sure it would make the two of 
them happy! 

Her dark hair was pushed back and it was possible to see the lewd sucking 
clearly. She had one hand wrapped tightly around the thick base of the 
dude's erect cock, pumping him with her hand while her head bobbed up and 
down. She was taking nearly three-quarters of the length into her widely 
ovaled lips. There was a lot of heavy breathing, grunts and moans on the 
sound track. The girl looked up devilishly into the camera. Her eyes were 
glazed with lust as she sucked and licked at the huge column of flesh that 
protruded from her mouth. Troy was -amazed that the girl was capable of 
taking such length into her mouth, and it, surprised him that she didn't 
gag. The guy must have been ten inches long! 

Her cheeks hollowed and filled out as her head worked teasingly up and down, 
and there were traces of scarlet from the heavy lipstick she wore. That gave 
Troy a particular jolt of excitement, when they panned in close for a shot 
of her lips working slavishly on the dude's cock, covering it with streaks 
of red. His prick was about to burst from his own fly, and he knew that 
Kelly and anybody else around them could clearly see that he had a hard-on. 

"Guess you like this part ..." she cooed in his ear, looking down at the 
bulge in his pants. "So do I..." 

Geezus! This chick's really asking for it!, Troy thought, I'm going to give 
her a chance to put up or shut up, for sure! 

Kelly lifted his hand and moved it over to rest on her warm thigh. She kept 
her hand over his, so that he would definitely get the message that that was 
where it was supposed to be - for now. Troy decided to let happen whatever 
the hell was going to happen. They couldn't go all the way - not in the 
fuckin' movie theatre. But who knows what would cum of it? 

The girl worked with greater and greater intensity, pulling and sucking at 
the lust-stiffened penis as though it contained some delicious honeyed 
nectar that she desperately had to draw out of his balls. Troy could almost 
feel her warmly clasping mouth around his own cock, and he had to shift his 
gaze. to the girl's sensuously grinding buttocks to keep from going out of 
his mind. He wondered if Kelly could suck cock that well, and imagined 
himself in the dude's position, with the luscious redhead blowing him like 
the girl in the film was doing... 

The cinematographer focused again on the actress's loins, and on the 
frenetic tonguing her pussy was getting. The dude's hands clutched her soft 
ass flesh, pulling her cheeks apart, and the lips of her pussy. It was 
glistening with saliva mixed with her own excited cuntal lubrications. 

Kelly moved his hand up her thigh, under her skirt. She spread her legs 
wider apart, so that her thigh was pressed tightly against Troy's. "Lucky 
girl," she whispered, "I'd like to audition for that part ..." 

Damn!, Troy swore to himself, if this is the way she wants it, she's not 
getting an argument from me. I'll fuck her hot little ass off. He moved his 
hand right to the edge of her panties. She scooted down further, giving him 
easy access to her cunt. All he had to do was sneak his fingers under the 
elastic legband and nuzzle them into her slit. She wanted to be fingerfucked 
so goddamned bad! 

The heavy breathing was not confined to the film actors. It was going on 
right beside him. He felt a jostling against his other leg and glanced over 
to see Carolyn hunched over Neil's lap, her long hair hiding her obvious 
cock-sucking! Neil's eyes were glazed as he looked ahead of him to the 
screen, his glance far away. He had his hand down inside her white halter 
and was rolling the huge melons of breastflesh around on her chest. It 
nearly blew Troy's mind! 

Kelly saw it, too, and immediately she placed her hand in the crevice 
between Troy's thigh and his lower belly, where it rested against his 
lust-bloated balls. 

There was a close-up shot of the actor's tongue flicking out at the softly 
glistening valley of the girl's soft, hair-lined vagina. Her clitoris was 
erect and throbbing with sexual excitement as the boy's tongue lashed across 
it again and again, probing in and out of the tiny, visibly throbbing little 
hole in an animalistic rhythm of lust. With his other hand, the man felt the 
smooth white crevice of her firm young buttocks, then reached for her ripe, 
dangling breasts to tweak the nipples between his fingertips. 

The girl moaned with pleasure around the pistoning cock in her mouth, 
sucking with even greater urgency on its pistoning hardness. She was going 
to cum soon, he knew, and he snaked his fingers under Kelly's filmy panties, 
which were wet with her cunt juices, and began to toy with the crisp pubic 
curls that framed her pussy lips. The redhead sucked in her breath between 
her teeth. She suddenly grabbed his hard cock and squeezed so hard he almost 
cried out in pain. He stuck his fingers right between the lips of her pussy 
and let them slide down the slippery furrow. Kelly went for his zipper. 

Suddenly all hell broke loose, both on screen and off. The dark-haired 
actress screamed and bucked convulsively as she cried out her delerium. Her 
hand pumped the throbbing cock that jutted out from between the actor's legs 
and she flailed her head from side to side, her entire body a sensual mass 
of sexual pleasure, twisting and churning lasciviously over her horizontal 
partner. Then she fastened her mouth over the shiny cock in her hand and 
sucked earnestly again, her moans and grunts of pleasure genuine as her body 
trembled with the last jolts of orgasm. 

"Far out! Far fucking, sucking out!" Neil said audibly, "Ohhhh, yeeesss!" He 
shuddered and jerked in his seat as he came in the brunette's mouth. Then 
the actor came, and the actress kneeling over him puffed out her cheeks as 
she desperately swallowed the spewing hot cum from his spurting cock. It ran 
out of her mouth and slid down his wet shaft obscenely like a vanilla 
milkshake. 

Troy.was totally absorbed in the sensual image before him, the lewd 
connection of the two people making his blood swirl wildly through his body, 
igniting a lust he had never before known. His cock ached to be set free 
from his confining pants, and he wanted to go right through the movie screen 
to join the celluoid couple in their bizarre sexual ritual. Neil had just 
been sucked off by his "date," the lucky bastard - though Troy wasn't the 
type for exhibiting his venal nature in public, no way. But it took all of 
his strength and will power to keep from whipping his own cock out right 
there and shoving Kelly's face in his loins. From what he had seen of her, 
she probably wouldn't have objected, and even now she was manipulating the 
bulge in his fly and trying her best to get his zipper down. Hell, why 
shouldn't he let her play with it? His only concern was a practical one: if 
he let her jerk him off he'd have cum all over his pants - and that wasn't 
too comfortable, to say the least. No, better to hold off and- boogie to the 
van, where they could both get it on in privacy. Yeah, that was the thing to 
do, providing he didn't shoot off before they got up from their seats! 

The film was over and they were running the credits. Next to him, Kelly was 
writhing in the seat, pushing her heated pussy against his hand. She was 
juicing all over the place, her skirt hiked up to her upper thighs. 
Controlled moans and gasps came from her mouth and her eyes were fixed and 
glassy. Damn! She was bent on cumming right there in the movie theatre! 

There was no intermission. Instead, the feature film title appeared: WOMAN'S 
BEST FRIEND, starring Brenda Boxx and Ring Ding Dong. The opening shot was a 
panoramic scan of a smog-shrouded city in the distance. The camera moved 
back, showing a grassy, wooded knoll, from where the city could be seen. 
Motorcycle - a trail bike - resting against a pine tree, then the camera 
moved to a blanket spread on the shady grass, a picnic basket on one corner. 
The pan moved to a girl's head bent low over something, so that only her 
long blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight. Then it pulled back, revealing 
the girl's beautiful face and ... naked body. She was resting on her elbows 
as she lay on her stomach, reading a book of some kind. 

A long shot from the reverse angle, revealing the girl's nude body 
completely, with emphasis on her small waist, her ripe buttocks and her long 
shapely legs. She had a sensational figure. 

There was a shot of the trees behind her, and a close-up of a sinister 
looking man who spied on her, licking his lips salaciously. He had a gun in 
his hand. He cautiously began to move towards her, creeping silently through 
the trees. The girl turned her head and looked around, thinking she heard 
something, but then went back to her reading. She turned over on her back, 
giving the audience a full look at her gorgeous body. Her firm white breasts 
were starkly white, the nipples sepia colored against the pink aureoles. She 
held the book in one hand as she continued to read avidly, licking her lips, 
her eyes darting across the page and back again. 

As the camera continued pulling back, it zoomed in on her smooth, flat 
stomach, then down to her pubic triangle, which had been shaved clean of 
hair! She looked like one of those nymphs in a Renaissance painting. Even 
her face had a classic symmetry to it, and her eyes were golden brown. She 
was probably in her early twenties. The thing that really blew Troy's mind 
though, was her startling resemblance to his stepmother, Denise! Except for 
the color of her eyes, Brenda Boxx was a ringer for his dad's second wife 
(though Troy had never seen her without clothes on - Denise was so uptight, 
she probably never took them off, except to take a shower!) But the 
features, the size of the breasts, her height - all of those reminded him 
uncannily of his stepmother, who he thought privately was one of the 
best-looking chicks he had ever seen. In fact, if she weren't his 
stepmother, he would love to get into her pants. His of man was one hell of 
a lucky dude! 

The girl opened her legs and the camera zoomed in on her pussy, then pulled 
back. She was scissoring her legs now, and her chest heaved up and down with 
obvious excitement. Chit to the "bad guy" who is closer and closer to the 
clearing where the unsuspecting beauty lies, absorbed in her book. Suddenly, 
he leaps out from behind the trees, gun in hand and shouts to the girl to 
put her hands up. She throws the book in the air and the audience gets a 
close-up of the book title: A Virgin's Ordeal. 

The dude starts to unzip his pants while he has her covered with the gun. He 
orders her to play with herself, to spread the lips of her pussy so that he 
can have a good look at what he's getting himself into. He gets down on his 
knees to peer inside her cunt, where the pink knob of her clitoris is 
plainly visible. He orders her to squeeze her breasts with the other hand, 
and the young woman complies, though her face is tortured with fear. She 
rotates her cream-white buttocks on the blanket as she massages one of her 
breasts in a small circle; thumb and forefinger squeezing the nipple into 
hardness. 

The dude has his pants down to his knees and his cock is jutting out 
menacingly from his groin. His lips are curled into a sadistic sneer. 

Suddenly, from out of the woods, a huge, fierce Doberman twitches his nose, 
pricks up his ears and begins to run at top speed. In seconds, he is in the 
clearing and leaping at the would-be rapist, knocking the dude to the ground 
and clamping his saber-like teeth around the man's hairy wrist. The gun is 
knocked a few feet away from him, and the frightened girl jumps up to 
retrieve it. She stands above him, then, like a conquering heroine, telling 
the dude that he has no choice but to get lost and fast, otherwise her dog 
will tear him to ribbons, will rip his cock right off of him. "What'll be, 
mister?" she snarls. The dude begs for mercy, asking her to call off the dog 
and apologizing for ever threatening her at all. "Hell, I just wanted to 
have a little fun, " he jokes feebly. The scene ends with the rapist 
scrambling down the hill, clutching at his pants as the girl laughs and 
watches her dog nipping at the guy's ass half-way down the hill. That's the 
end of him! 

Kelly was cumming! The redhead groaned out her ecstasy and creamed all over 
Troy's fingers as she came and came in the movie seat. "Oooohhh, ooohhh!" he 
heard her say under her breath as she shuddered violently. Goosebumps popped 
out on her arms and legs. Troy's balls were about to burst. They ached with 
want of release. He didn't know how he could sit there much longer without 
popping off, but he was determined to save it for later, when they would 
sneak off and fuck in the van. Besides, he was absorbed in the flick. He 
just couldn't stop comparing the blonde actress to his blonde stepmother! He 
wondered what it would be like to make it with Denise... 

The girl got down on the blanket again and rolled over on her back, going 
back to her reading. The close-up of her face showed that she was still 
turned on. Then the camera pulled back as her hand began to slowly move down 
over her belly toward the nude sex triangle between her legs, bypassing it 
momentarily to roam over her smooth thighs, stroking the tops and sides and 
finally, the tender flesh on the inside. Her fingers moved back to the damp 
furrow between her thighs and towards her pulsing clit. 

The camera zeroed in on her moist, naked slit. She was spreading it apart 
with the fingers of one hand while she continued to read from the book. With 
her extended middle finger, she began to stroke the erect, bud-like 
clitoris. Her sensuous movements increased as her probing finger worked 
itself into the pink edges of her cunt. More excited then, she slipped her 
middle finger in and out smoothly between the lubricated lips as she drew 
her legs back to her breasts, and the soft rounded buttocks rose and fell in 
response to the inquiring finger. Her facial muscles tightened as she joined 
another finger with the first, and clenching her jaws, pushed both her 
fingers into the hungry pink fold. The girl purred with sexual pleasure. 

The girl had become possessed with raw lust, as she writhed beneath her own 
driving fingers in uncontrollable passion. She pumped hard and fast, her 
fingers sliding in and out of her wide spread cunt almost too fast to see, 
and she clenched and unclenched her buttocks as she strained up against her 
probing digits. The steadily increasing rhythm drove rapid grunts of 
pleasure from deep within her throat as the fingers sunk into the tight, 
pink opening, making sucking sounds as she withdrew them again. She rolled 
her head from side to side, her hair spreading like a golden fan. 

There was a long shot then, showing the dog bounding back to his mistress, 
his long red tongue drooping to the side of his mouth as he panted in the 
sun. Seconds later, he was on the blanket, hovering over the girl's face to 
receive his congratulatory petting and praise. He licked her face, licked 
her right on the mouth. The book had been knocked out of her hand by the 
Doberman's enthusiastic prancing and pawing. His sleek black body gleamed in 
the sunlight and saliva dripped from his chops. He was all bone and muscle 
and raw animal strength. His mistress had taken her fingers out of her pussy 
and was hugging the animal who had saved her from assault by an unknown 
gunman. 

The dog caught the scent of pussy on her fingers and focused his sensory 
awareness on them, licking them wildly. He began to get an erection, and an 
inch of his slippery pointed penis protruded from its hairy sheath. He went 
crazy then, licking her body from her face to her pointed nipples, down her 
belly to the source of the musky sweetness captured on her fingers. The 
blonde's legs were still open wide, and her raw pussy was puffed with 
desire. "Yes, Ring ... that's the place. Lick it there, baby. Lick momma's 
hot pussy, boy ..." she breathed huskily, her voice quavering with desire. 

The huge sleek Doberman stuck his wet nose in her pussy. You could see his 
long red tongue sticking out obscenely from between his black lips, and the 
gleaming saber teeth that had effectively dispatched the assailant. The girl 
pulled the lips of her pussy wide apart with her fingers and lifted her legs 
back, jackknifing them against her chest. Ring Ding Dong began to lick over 
the narrow pink slit avidly, bringing a look of rapture to the woman who was 
lying naked on the blanket beneath him. His sharp hot tongue spread through 
the pouting furrow like a knife through soft butter. It flicked relentlessly 
between the girl's widespread thighs, curling its way deep up inside her 
well-lubricated passage. She jerked spasmodically as she squirmed under the 
giant dog, her arousal becoming more and more intense. Wild, incoherent 
shreiks streamed from her lips, pleading and encouraging the dumb animal 
salivating between her writhing, upturned buttocks. 

The camera moved in close as tiny rivulets of moisture were building in the 
crevice of the girl's white rotating buttocks. Her body glistened with 
perspiration and her screams became louder, signaling the approach of her 
climax. Suddenly she was there. She screamed like a banshee and shoved her 
pussy into the Doberman's face as hard as she could, grinding her buttocks 
against the blanket uncontrollably, her belly, her breasts, her whole body 
quivering with orgasmic passion. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she 
was lost in the frenzy of her cumming. 

"Oh God!" Kelly breathed, squeezing his rock-hard cock tighter than before. 
He still had his finger in her pussy, and feeling the warmth of her cuntal 
passage around his finger excited him even more. He had to get out of there 
soon, or he'd pop off in his pants, without the benefit of her jerking him 
off even. He whispered to her, "Let's go to the van for a while, huh?" 

"Huh? What did you say?" she asked. Her eyes were riveted to the screen, and 
she seemed lost in the drama that unfolded before them. 

"Let's boogie to the van, Kelly. I can't take much more of this, if you know 
what I mean," he said. 

She gave him a quick look and flashed him a sudden knowing smile. "Sure, 
daddy, I can dig it. We'll split in just a sec, OK?" She finished her 
statement with a wicked little wink, as if to say, Don't worry, baby ... I'm 
gonna take care of you real good! 

The dog's tongue was hanging out about a foot, it seemed, and so was his 
cock. Geezus, he was as big as a man! He lifted his head from the panting 
girl's crotch and began to nose and paw her over on her stomach, licking the 
puckered brown hole of her anus while she held the cheeks of her buttocks 
apart for him. She scooted up on her knees, raising her white luscious 
flanks in the air for the inevitable breech attack by the panting dog. 

Seconds later he was mounting her, the glistening scarlet penis dripping 
with desire. The slippery taper at the end danced in the hot wet anal 
crevice as the animal trembled and jerked, trying to find the receptacle for 
his lusting shaft. He was thrusting wildly, and the tip of his canine cock 
slid forward to nuzzle against her sensitive clitoris, causing his mistress 
to lurch forward. The hot scarlet of his jabbing penis contrasted 
startlingly with the fevered pink of the girl's passion-inflamed cunt, 
spreading the lips wider as his still unhoused shaft rubbed between them. 
Finally, the blonde reached back, grabbed the slippery organ and placed the 
point of it against her vagina, and the dog thrust home. The girl screamed 
and moved back to meet the thrust of the panting dog. The muscles glistened 
in his body as he wrapped his paws around his mistress's waist and dripped 
saliva from his wet chops onto her sweat-stained back. She began to 
undulate, moving her buttocks in tiny lewd circles, abandoning herself to 
the animal who was fucking her from behind. The dog's jerking penis 
slithered in and out of the squirming woman's hotly grasping hole, and it 
was clear what effect the animal-fucking was having on her as the camera 
showed a close-up of her face. Her breasts danced tautly beneath her 
writhing torso, moving in time to the skewering cock of the dog. She was 
completely out of her gourd, shouting lewd encouragements through 
passion-clenched teeth. She begged him to fuck her harder and faster, and 
she ground her buttocks back in her low, mewling plea for his hot animal 
sperm to shoot hotly up into her clasping cunt. 

Troy couldn't take any more. His cock was bursting the seams of his pants 
and he had a case of lover's nuts that pained him terribly. He reached 
around behind Carolyn and grabbed Neil by the shoulder. "The keys to the 
van, man. Gimme the keys," he whispered. He rolled his eyes and winced. His 
buddy got the message and reached in his pocket, forking the keys over with 
a fraternal grin. 

"Let's go, baby," he commanded the mesmerized redhead. "We're gonna make a 
movie of our own now!" Giving her no chance to refuse, he grabbed her hand 
and practically yanked her out of the seat, forcing his way past the knees 
of the voluptuous brunette and the lanky Neil. 

"Have fun ..." Carolyn quipped, a devilish grin on her face. 

Minutes later, they were out on the street. The cool night air felt good on 
Troy's fevered face. He was glad to get out of the stifling theatre, with 
its odor of stale popcorn, sweat and dried cum. Making it with animals 
wasn't his bag anyway, especially animals fucking ladies. He could get off 
on the idea of tonguing, but getting fucked by a dog, no way. It was just 
too damned perverted. Besides, the lady looked too much like his stepmother, 
and that bothered him more and more. Denise would die if she knew there was 
an actress who was her double letting a dog do it to her on film! 

He walked so fast, Kelly had to run to keep up with him. "Hey, where's the 
fire?" she called after him. 

"In my groin, baby - as well you know. You started it!" 

The van was a "make-out wagon," with a big mattress in the back, some 
permanent press sheets and a couple of pillows from a Middle Eastern shop in 
Laguna Beach. There were also a few homemade candles and some incense 
sticks. Troy lit up another joint and they shared it between them as they 
undressed. Kelly was hot to trot again, as he knew she would be. She was the 
kind of chick who was naturally horny, he figured, and the grass was 
unnecessary, but it did add an other-worldly glow which heightened the 
turn-on. 

"I want to fuck you, Kelly," Troy said in a slurred voice. He fastened his 
mouth over her breast, sucking the pink button of pleasure as his hands 
roamed all ever her luscious body. She was squirming with passion and her 
hand found his cock, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. 
"Oooohhh! It's sooooo big!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her tiny hand 
around its throbbing thickness, stroking it with the skill of an expert. 

"Don't do that too much, baby - you'll make me shoot off right now," he 
pleaded. He had to fuck her quickly. Later, if there was time, maybe he'd 
get her to suck his cock, the way the brunette in the film sucked that dude. 

"If you're going to shoot off, it's going to be in my cunt, daddy!" she 
answered. "I want you to fuck me ... NOW!" 

"Yes ... fuck you now!" he moaned as he kissed her passionately on the 
mouth, his tongue fencing with hers hotly. He started to climb on top of her 
and she pushed him off. "Let me get on top of you," she breathed. 

It was something new, and he wasn't sure he wanted it that way, but, what 
the hell? Try anything once. 

He rolled back on the mattress and Kelly knelt over him, one knee straddling 
either side of his hips. Her hand was still on his excruciatingly throbbing 
cock. The purple tip of his lust-swollen cock was pointed directly at the 
soft auburn curls of her pubic slit, and she lowered her body until the 
smooth rubbery head made naked contact with her warm, moist cunt. The 
contact sent a rush of desire through his veins, and he had to fight to keep 
from shooting his cum up between her legs right then. 

The sexy redhead slid back and forth against the head of his cock, rubbing 
her passion-soaked slit against it and spreading her lips with it until the 
head was throbbing directly under the hotly waiting hole of her pussy. 
Slowly she lowered her body, and the pink moist flanges of her cunt rolled 
away to admit his cock inside leer steaming passage. She was tight, warm and 
juicy, and her pussy seemed to grasp greedily at his blood-filled penis as 
it pushed wide the walls of her passion-slackened vaginal passage. Inch by 
inch, his fleshy rod was sucked up inside her fiery young cunt as she 
tantalizingly ground herself down onto his throbbing rod. He could feel the 
smooth wet walls parting before the thickness of his blood-engorged head, 
only to again clench tightly around the pounding column as it moved further 
and further up inside her hungrily trembling little belly. Her freckled 
shapely thighs held him down or he would have thrust upwards to jam his full 
length into her quickly. She was skewering herself down on his cock so 
slowly he thought he would go insane, but suddenly, she spread her knees 
apart, her loins crashing down over his cock to take the whole of it far up 
inside her burning womb. 

"U-uuuggghhh! Oooohhhaaahhh!" she grunted as his prick struck her cervix. 
She stayed down on his full length for a moment, adjusting to his size, and 
he flexed his cockhead several times, making her groan. He reached up and 
took both of her gorgeous boobs in his palms and began to knead them 
eagerly. 

The tight fleshy sheath around his cock was sensationally smooth as Kelly 
raised herself up. She moved slowly, her butt rising in the air above Troy 
until just the tip of his rock-hard shaft was left inside the warm enclosing 
walls of her naked vagina. Then groaning loudly, she dropped heavily back 
down on him, impaling herself completely. She began a slow grinding motion 
then, fucking up and down, her hips gyrating in tiny, hardly perceptible 
circles as she made each long smooth stroke. 

Troy groaned out his lust as the pressure in his balls became unbearable. He 
knew he couldn't last long, there were too many lewd and sensational images 
whirling around in his mind, residue from the flick. The girl sucking the 
guy off, Carolyn sucking Neil off, his stepmother's double being tongued by 
a dog, then getting her cunt fucked, Kelly cumming on his fingers ... 

She was bouncing up and down on his aching cock in a faster and faster 
tempo, her expression one of animalistic lust in the flickering candlelight. 
The air was close with the scent of sandalwood and marijuana and sex. His 
cock was buried in her belly as she ground the softness of her buttocks 
lewdly around on top of him, and he felt her greedily clasping cunt rippling 
along the full length of his painfully throbbing member. 

"Oh fuck me, daddy, fuck me!" she cried as she ground her ass down on his 
young cock. The great pole of flesh disappeared and reappeared with lewd, 
wet sucking sounds,as Kelly bounced over his groin. God, it was beautiful, 
so beautiful! There was nothing on earth as good as being in a beautiful 
girl's cunt! 

His cock was coated with liquid icing from the wetly oozing walls of Kelly's 
cunt as she fucked wildly up and down on his long rigid pole. Her sensual 
mouth was open, her little pink tongue darting in and out to wet her red 
lips - another instrument of sex. Troy could imagine how her mouth would 
feel around his cock, and he made a mental note to try and get her to suck 
him next. She was so hot, she'd probably do anything, even a foursome with 
Carolyn and Neil, which wasn't such a bad idea. Ordinarily, Troy liked his 
sex very private, just him and a foxy lady. But with these hot boxes, the 
sky was the limit. Stoned as he was, he could have cared less if Neil and 
the big-titted broad walked in right at that moment. 

He reached for her thighs, working her up and down faster and faster on his 
near-bursting cock. He couldn't hold off much longer. Her clitoris stood out 
like a beacon, and he eased his finger around the furred lips and pressed 
her pleasure button, rolling it around and around. That did it! The lights 
flashed, the sirens roared and the bells clanged everywhere in the young 
redhead's body. 

"Oooohhh! Aaaahhh ... yeeeessss! Fuuuuck it, daddy! FUUUUCCCKKK IIIIT! I'M 
CUUUUMMMMIIIINNNGGG!" she screamed as her cunt suddenly contracted around 
his hotly plunging cock and she rode his cock for all she was worth, taking 
it as deep as was physically possible. 

She flung her head back, her long red hair like a great flame shooting out 
from her head as her whole body shook and trembled violently with her 
orgasm. Great spasms seemed to roll from her belly down her rippling cunt to 
his own sperm-bloated balls as she screamed out her ecstasy. 

Troy reached his personal heights then, and he groaned with her as he felt 
his boiling sperm make the long, headlong dash from his balls up into the 
length of his cock to splash out of the blood-thickened tip of his penis. 

Kelly felt the spastic jerks of his penis as it shot out his cum again and 
again through the raging head of his cock. Each blast of sperm made her moan 
in ecstatic response as their combined orgasmic juices swirled deep inside 
her vagina, then rippled down her hungrily contracting little cunt to spill 
out with heated gushing over his exploding groin. The white liquid matted 
his pubic hair and covered his balls before dripping stickily down to the 
cushions below. 

Their rolling climax lasted for what seemed an eternity, Kelly squealing and 
mewling as her cunt milked ever more hungrily at the still slightly jerking 
column of flesh shoved deep inside her belly. Finally, she fell sideways, 
and rolled on her back beside him, gasping for air, a thin thread of his 
jism still clinging to her sperm-drenched pussy. 

Several minutes later, Troy rolled to face the sexy redhead beside him. It 
had been fantastic, but he was ready for more. He fixed his gaze on her 
lipsticked lips, intent on knowing the pleasures her mouthfucking could 
bring him - he had never been sucked off before. Kelly was agreeable, only 
she wanted him to lick her pussy, just as the dude in the flick had done. 
(That was a first for him, too, and he found that he actually enjoyed it. In 
fact, he dug the hell out of it!) Before Neil and Carolyn arrived at the 
van, they had sucked each other off in a glorious flat-out Sixty Nine, with 
him shooting his hot cum into the warm moist haven of her mouth. It was 
fantastic! As a matter of fact, before the night was over, the four of them 
got it on - and off - at Carolyn's pad, and in every way imaginable. The 
first rays of morning sun were peeking over the mountains in the distance 
when they finally said "Goodnight" and split from the ladies. 

"Well, that ought to hold you for a while, dude!" Neil said as they drove 
back to his place to pick up their boards for some early morning surfing. 

"Hold me, hell!" Troy answered, his impish grin showing the toothpaste-white 
teeth, "It only makes me hot for more! Take good care of these ladies, pal. 
When I get back from up north, we're gonna have a rematch!" 

"Up north?" 

"Yeah," Troy answered, a tone of resignation and disappointment in his 
voice, "I gotta see my of man and his bride for a while. We're going up to 
Tahoe for a couple of weeks." 

"Bummer, huh?" Neil queried. 

"In view of recent developments, yeah ... unless there's a lady to fuck up 
there ..." 

"No sweat," the lanky youth answered, "foxy ladies are everywhere." 

"Sure, but the trick is to fuck 'em with the parents around!" Troy replied. 
"Besides, when it comes to young ladies, I got my of man to worry about. 
He's got a thing for young ladies, too, and they think he's the cat's ass." 

"So what's the matter with your stepmother? She some kind of dog or 
something?" 

"Are you kiddin'? She's a fox and a half, man! Looks just like that blonde 
in the flick!" 

"Far fucking out!" Neil said with a grin. "What are you worried about then, 
man?" 

"Don't be a smart-ass. That's sick, man, and you know it. I can't ball my of 
man's wife!" 

"Not unless he moves in on your territory," Neil said slyly. 

"Naw. You're crazy! Besides, Denise wouldn't let me get within ten feet of 
her. She's too straight." 

"Where's your spirit of adventure, dude? Aren't you up to a challenge?" 

"Fuck yes! But not that kind of a challenge! I don't want to get my balls 
roasted!" the curly haired youth argued. 

"Well then, have a groovy vacation, dude. I'll. keep the ladies happy 'til 
you get back." 

"Thanks," Troy said disgustedly, "I'll bet you will!" The trip to Tahoe 
sounded less and less appealing. 

 Chapter 4 

"Well, Mrs. Yarbrough, have you thought about our conversation of last 
week," Dr. Berger asked as she sat on deep-cushioned leather couch. She 
looked particularly lovely he thought. 

"Yes. Yes I have, Dr. Berger. There is someone I'm attracted to - though he 
doesn't know it. But because of our relationship, the idea of anything 
sexual is out of the question." 

The shrink's penis twitched involuntarily in his dark serge trousers. "Don't 
be too certain, Mrs. Yarbrough. Physical attraction defies the laws of 
convention time and time again. We can not program ourselves to desire only 
those with whom we are sanctioned by the obsolete mores of society to 
desire." 

"True, Dr. Berger," she answered intellectually, "but we can limit our 
sexual involvement to those people." She resented the psychiatrist's attack 
on her own morality. 

He cleared his throat, aware of her resentment. He smiled coyly. "You are 
quite right, Mrs. Yarbrough. However, you have sought my help because you 
said you wished to save your marriage, because you wished to free yourself 
from the shackles of petit bourgeouis Victorianism. I suggested to you an 
unconventional approach, a radical approach, if you will, to your problem. 
If you are unwilling to take a step in that direction, then I must assume 
that you do not wish to rid yourself of your neurosis. It is common, of 
course. The neurotic clings to his neurosis until he is buried by it, simply 
because it is predictable, it is known. One can repeat the neurotic pattern 
indefinitely, without fear of change, without fear of venturing into the 
unknown ..." 

"I don't consider myself neurotic, Dr. Berger, I really don't, and I don't 
understand why you infer that I am," she answered hotly. 

"Then why have you come to me?" he answered levelly, his steely eyes 
blazing. 

"I ... I thought you could help me..." she answered, her voice fading as she 
realized she had trapped herself. She looked like a lost little girl at that 
moment, and she knew that what the doctor said was true: she was neurotic. 

He waited for her to speak again. The long silence was agonizing. Jumbled 
thoughts bumped and thudded in her brain. She felt that she was going to 
cry. 

The small man came over to the couch and sat beside her. He placed a warm, 
paternal hand on hers and spoke to her as though she were his daughter. "I'm 
sorry I had to be rough on you Denise - may I call you Denise?" She nodded 
her head mutely, afraid to look at him. 

"You are such a lovely woman. You deserve to have all the riches of life, 
including the full enjoyment of your own sexuality, as well as your 
husband's. It makes me somewhat sad to realize that because of the ignorance 
of your parents, you were programed to deny yourself those riches, to feel 
guilty if you allowed yourself the fruits of your existence. Already you 
withheld yourself from the pleasure of a man's body until you were 
thirty-one years old ... now, you do not even give yourself completely to 
your husband, except when you drink champagne! Why do you insist on 
punishing yourself so?" 

Tears were welling in the big blue eyes. She didn't know the answer. The 
psychiatrist leaned a little closer. "I ... I feel so guilty, like it's 
wrong somehow," she said pitifully, then added, "Oh, Dr. Berger, help me. 
Please help me!" 

"I will do my best, Denise. But I shall need your full cooperation. I want 
you to trust me, to know that whatever I suggest for you is for your good. 
Will you trust me, Denise?" 

She looked at him, nodded her head mutely. She was a helpless waif, and it 
took all his professional reserve to keep from wrapping her in his arms and 
kissing her. 

"I want you to take off all your clothes, now." 

Her eyes widened, she started to protest. 

"Please, trust me. I will not force anything upon you that you do not want. 
Take off all your clothes in front of me, and I shall do the same." 

She looked at him with an open mouth. He must be a raving lunatic; she 
couldn't do that! She couldn't undress in front of her psychiatrist, nor did 
she want to see his naked body. 

"If you can expose your body to me, you can be assured of being one step 
closer to sexual liberation," he assured her. "I want to help you get rid of 
some of the ghouls and goblins that torture your psyche. Being naked is the 
most natural thing in the world. Here, I'll show you." 

He got up from the couch then, and took off his jacket. He unbuckled his 
belt and unzipped his fly. He took the cuff links from his shirt and 
unbuttoned it down the front. He slipped off his shoes and pulled off his 
socks. She was surprised to see that he was not flabby. His wiry body had 
good muscle tone. 

"Wait!" she cried as he was about to pull down his pants. She was still 
fully clothed. "You won't try to ... to seduce me, will you?" she whined in 
her little girl voice. 

"Certainly not! My professional ethics forbid it, madame! On the other hand, 
if you wanted to make love with me, I would be only too happy to comply. You 
are a most desirable woman, Denise, and that is why your repression is all 
the more lamentable." He had his pants down and was slipping his undershorts 
over his boney knees, leaving his genitals fully exposed to her gaze. He did 
not have a hard-on. 

When he was finished undressing, he lit yet another strong cigarette and 
went around his desk to the big red leather chair and sat down. 

"Well?" he said, puffing on the Gaulois. 

Slowly she got up from the couch and began to unbutton her dress. She never 
thought she'd find herself stripping in the psychiatrist's office - she 
didn't even undress in front of her husband, as a rule. It suddenly occurred 
to her how foolish it was of her to be so over-modest. Besides, seated in 
that enormous chair, safely behind his desk, the good doctor struck her as 
someone comical, a harmless middle-aged man who might have been the family 
physician for years. 

"This person, this man you are attracted to, what is he like?" the doctor 
queried. She had slipped off her dress and was down to her bra and 
pantyhose, but she clutched the dress protectively in front of herself. 

"I really don't know him that well. I've only seen him a few times..." she 
offered. He motioned with his head for her to toss the dress aside and she 
did. Her proud breasts jutted up enticingly from the lacy bra she was 
wearing. He could see the flattened curls of her pubis beneath the 
pantyhose. 

"Is he attractive?" Berger asked, stroking his moustache with his middle 
finger. 

"Oh yes, he's gorgeous, like his father ..." she said, reaching around 
behind her to unfasten the bra. 

"Oh." came the reply, disappointment evident in the psychiatrist's voice. He 
quickly rallied with a tone of professionalism as Denise let the bra fall 
from her magnificent breasts. Berger's cock swelled with interest, but the 
blonde patient could not see it because the chair was pushed up to the desk. 

"Then, he is someone in your family?" he questioned her. 

"Yes, my stepson. He's only nineteen." 

"Only nineteen is old enough to make love to a woman, to say the least, 
though the boy undoubtedly has little experience and therefore is not going 
to be an adequate lover, as a mature, experienced man would be ..." 

Denise was rolling the pantyhose down her shapely buttocks and over her 
smooth thighs. "But don't you see, Dr. Berger, I couldn't allow my own 
stepson to make love to me. It's too wicked, it's incestuous. Besides, how 
would I ever induce him to ... to ..." 

"To fuck you? Come now, Denise, you surely don't think that the boy is 
immune to your considerable charms. Any man would want to fuck you, my dear. 
You know that." 

Denise was shocked at the doctor's use of that four-letter word. Why did he 
have to put it that way? "Really, Dr. Berger, you don't have to put it so 
crudely," she said sanctimoniously. 

His fist came down on the desk unexpectedly. "Gott in himmel, woman, I do 
have to put it crudely! You have to be made aware of your hypocrisy, your 
double standard. You have to be freed from all of that, don't you 
understand?" 

She was naked now, standing in the middle of the floor and trembling from 
his outburst. 

"I know what I'm doing, goddammit!" he shouted. "Please give me the beneft 
of the doubt. Please find it in yourself to acknowledge that I have some 
intelligence!" 

"I-I'm sorry, Dr. Berger. I didn't mean it that way. I guess I'm the one 
who's not very bright," she apologized. 

"You are very intelligent, but stupid - at least, about the fundamental 
drive in every human being!" he thundered again. "Walk around the room, 
display your body for me." 

She couldn't believe her ears, but she was too intimidated to question the 
doctor further at that point. She began to parade back and forth in front of 
him, her face flushed with embarrassment. But oddly enough, after a while 
she got accustomed to walking around in the nude, and her discomfort was not 
so accute. In fact, she almost felt a lascivious thrill at exhibiting 
herself in front of the shrink. She knew she had a beautiful body. Finally, 
she began to wonder why she had been so reluctant to hide it, especially 
from Peter. 

"You see, it's not so bad, is it? What's so wrong about being naked in front 
of another human being, even though that human being is a man?" he asked 
her. 

"Nothing, I guess." 

"Good! We are making progress. Now I want you to pretend that I am your 
stepson ..." 

Denise flushed again. "Oh, I can't!" she blurted out. 

"You can and you will. That is what you want, deep in your heart. You want 
to make love to the boy. You want him to fuck you, to eat your pussy, to put 
his cock in your mouth ..." 

"No! Please don't talk like that, Dr. Berger!" she begged. 

"Yes! I will talk like that, and you will listen, and you will talk like 
that, too, Denise. Otherwise, you can put your clothes back on and leave and 
I will not be available to you further." Berger's tone was adamant, and she 
knew his threat was genuine. He was certainly the most unorthodox shrink in 
the world! "Come here and sit on the edge of my desk," he commanded her. 

As in a dream, the beautiful blonde patient did as she was told. 

"Now, imagine - if you can - that I am your nineteen year old stepson. I am 
naked and sitting in this chair. I have a prominent erection because I want 
to fuck you..." Denise shuddered involuntarily as the image presented itself 
to her, punctuated by the doctor's use of fuck. 

"... In fact, I not only want to fuck you, I want to eat your delicious 
pussy. I want to stick my tongue inside and lick and suck until you cum all 
over my face. What would you feel in that case?" 

Denise flushed scarlet again. The doctor was exciting her. The walls of her 
cunt were oozing their lubrication juices and she squirmed, feeling them run 
down onto the desk. "I ... I suppose I would be excited. How could I not 
be?" she answered. 

The doctor pushed his chair back. He did indeed have a prominent erection! 
"Look at my cock, Denise. Do you see what you do to a man? Move to the 
right, to the center of the desk, please, so that you are facing me." 

"But Dr. Berger, you promised not to seduce me!" she protested. 

"I am well aware of what I promised, Denise, and I will not seduce you. I 
told you that I would not do anything you do not want me to do ... which is 
something else again. But this is your therapy, not mine. And it is your 
decision whether you want the therapy to continue ..." 

His veiled threat frightened her again. "Of course I want the therapy to 
continue, Dr. Berger. It's only that I don't know how to reconcile the 
validity of this particular aspect of it." 

"That is my concern, not yours. Obviously, you don't trust me ..." 

"Oh, I do, I do!" she was quick to say, though in her mind she questioned 
his intentions. 

"Then let us continue. From now on, I shall be ... what is the young man's 
name?" 

"Troy," she answered quietly, feeling a fluttering in her belly. 

"Troy. I shall be Troy, not Dr. Berger any more. And you will think o f me 
and address me as your nineteen year old stepson. Is that clear, Denise?" 

"Yes, Dr. Berger." 

"No! Yes, Troy!" he boomed again. 

"Yes ... Troy." The transition was a little difficult. There was little 
resemblance between the small man with dyed brown hair and beard and the 
gorgeous blond youth who was her husband's son. But she was game to try. 

"I have wanted to make love to you for a long time, Denise," he began. 

"You have? I didn't realize that ... eh, Troy." 

"Oh yes! Ever since the first time I met you. Of course, I was only a punk 
kid then, and I guess I'm still a punk kid in some ways, but you're the most 
beautiful woman I've ever seen." 

"Really? I wasn't sure that you really even liked me. It isn't easy to have 
another woman married to your father I know." 

"It is when it's a beautiful woman like you, Denise; although sometimes I 
wish you weren't married to my dad - it makes it harder for me. If you 
weren't his wife, I'd go all out to be your lover..." 

Another thrill surged through the blonde patient's body. The wetness was 
building in her pussy walls. 

"I'd like that," she found herself saying, "I'd really like that, Troy." 

"Then let me be your lover..." 

"But what would your father think? He'd be so jealous, he'd throw us both 
out!" 

"Dad's not exactly in a position to cast stones, you know. Besides, he 
wouldn't have to know..." 

Denise winced as she was reminded of her husband's infidelity. In some ways, 
she had encouraged it, she realized, because she felt so guilty about not 
being able to give herself totally to him. If she were able, then his 
playing around would be inexcusable. Unless, of course, she turned into one 
of those broad-minded, "swinging" adults who made cheating a habit. The 
whole idea was repugnant to her. It would weaken her marriage. 

"What are you thinking, Denise?" the doctor asked her. 

"The guilt. How would I handle the guilt?" 

"When you understand that your guilt comes from others, from your parents, 
as their malignant legacy to you, there will not be any guilt to handle. 
That is what we are working on now, slowly, slowly. Let me touch your 
breasts, Denise." 

"But Dr. Berger..." 

"Troy! Let Troy touch your breasts!" he shouted. 

"All right! Touch them, Troy! Do any damned thing you want with them, then! 
What do I care!" she shouted back. She was indignant, and she didn't 
understand what the psychiatrist was trying to do at this point. It only 
seemed that he wanted to use her for himself. The shrewd man easily divined 
her thoughts. He heaved an exasperated sigh. 

"No. If you don't want me to caress your breasts, I won't. I won't touch 
you. I won't do anything to defile your pristine, virginal body. Just sit 
there and look at me; look at me in the eyes." 

She forced herself to look him in the face, to look into his eyes, as much 
as it embarrassed her. Unexpectedly he snapped his fingers and said, 
"Sleep!" and she closed her eyes in a hypnotic trance. 

He gave her several suggestions to relax her, including some to implant the 
notion in her mind that she was really facing her stepson, and there was 
nothing to worry about. She would react naturally, doing what her deepest 
desires prompted her to do and nothing more. She would not feel guilty about 
whatever happened, because she was intelligent enough to realize that she 
was really the victim of her parent's misguided programing, that 
unwittingly, they had foisted their guilt upon her through their own 
well-meaning but ignorant intentions. From now on, she was becoming a 
natural woman, obedient only to her own desires and no one else's. Then he 
brought her out of the trance. She was still sitting up on the edge of the 
desk when she opened her eyes again, blinking herself to full alertness. The 
wetness in her pussy was still there. She didn't even realize she had been 
hypnotized. The only difference was that Berger's cock had shrunk to a 
half-aroused size. 

The psychiatrist scooted forward again; he was inches away from her. "Do you 
want me to kiss your pussy, Denise? Do you want to feel my tongue inside 
your wet cunt?" He made no move to touch her. 

"I... yes, Troy. Oh yes!" she answered breathlessly. 

Without another word, he placed his hands on her thighs and spread the lips 
of her pussy apart. His pink tongue slipped from between his coral lips, 
framed by his matte brown beard and moustache ... 

When she had screamed out her orgasm, he pulled her onto his lap and fucked 
the begeezus out of her. And she loved every minute of it! She was a wild 
and wanton earth woman, and she shoved her ripe breasts into the doctor's 
mouth as she rode up and down on his cock for all she was worth, cumming 
again before he emptied his balls into her cunt. She actually felt that she 
was with her stepson, and it didn't bother her in the least that they were 
both naked and engaged in the most uninhibited kind of love-making. 

In fact, before she left the good doctor's office, she had already resolved 
that she would do her best to repeat her performance when Troy arrived from 
Southern California ... 

* * * 

Among the passengers deplaning at Oakland International Airport that Friday 
was a sun-bronzed yellow-headed youth with startlingly blue eyes that 
slanted upward in his young face. Denise stood in the reception area, her 
heart beating rapidly. Troy was even better looking than when she had last 
seen him at Christmas time. It was astounding how much he had grown up in 
just five short months. He was more a virile and handsome young man instead 
of a good-looking boy. He looked so much like his father, though he wasn't 
quite as tall. Yes, she had seen pictures of Peter when he was Troy's age, 
and the resemblance was remarkable, except that Peter's eyes were lighter 
blue, and his teeth weren't quite as white and perfect as his son's. 

He spotted her and grinned broadly, coming straight up to her and putting an 
arm around her back for a good-natured hug. "Hiya, Denise. How's it goin'?" 
he said as she hugged him back self-consciously, aware of the feeling of his 
broad, muscular chest against her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra today. 
It was part of her sudden liberation. She didn't need one anyway, her 
breasts were pert and firm, and Peter had made fun of her prudishness for 
being an old fashioned girl who was living in another era. Well, no more ... 

She thought she had a thousand questions to ask him, but somehow there was 
an awkwardness between them that she hadn't expected, though she knew what 
it was. She guessed that Troy wasn't totally enthusiastic about going up to 
Tahoe, though she didn't press him. She knew it would be a mistake to put 
him on the defensive. And she could understand that at his age, a trip with 
"family" couldn't be a thing he was eager for. 

"How's the old man?" he asked her as they drove in to Oakland to pick his 
father up. Peter Yarbrough was working on a deadline for his column - he 
wanted to write ahead before going on vacation, so that he wouldn't have any 
pressure up at the lake. 

"He's great, Troy," she answered brightly. "Working too hard, as usual. 
It'll be good for him to spend some time at Tahoe." 

"Yeah, well I'm looking forward to it myself. It's been a tough grind at 
school this year. Can't wait to do some backpacking in the Sierra. Do you 
like backpacking, Denise?" 

"I haven't done too much. I'm a tenderfoot, I guess. But I'd love to try." 

"That's the spirit. Maybe you'll join Dad and me, huh?" He was looking at 
her intently as he leaned against the side of the door, his arm over the top 
of the seat. Her lightweight cotton skirt was up around her thighs, showing 
most of her shapely legs as she drove the BMW coupe on the busy freeway. She 
turned to him and flashed him a quick warm smile, surprised to find him 
studying her. It almost embarrassed her, but she covered it with a fast 
remark: "I'd be honored, if you think I can keep up with you." 

"I'm sure you could keep up with the best of them, Denise," he offered. For 
some reason, it made her tummy flutter again. 

They picked Peter up at the Oakland Trib, then had a long drive up to Tahoe 
City - them and three thousand other Bay Area residents who wanted to get 
away from it all for a weekend, or for the summer. There were cars full of 
people going to Reno too, to lose their shirts, most of them, at the 
blackjack table or shooting craps or exercising their right arms on the 
slots. 

Peter's father had had a house on the lake outside of Tahoe City for years. 
The senior Yarbrough was gone now, and Peter was the legal owner of the 
spacious bungalow. He was too busy to use it as often as Denise would have 
liked. Peter traveled so much that he really didn't appreciate the old place 
as much as someone would who didn't get to go flying to exotic paradises 
around the world a dozen times a year. They had a beautiful home in 
Piedmont, the fashionable woodsy suburb of Oakland, high in the hills 
overlooking the sprawling industrial city. But Denise was not the type of 
woman who liked puttering around the house all the time. She yearned for 
excitement and adventure. 

They were all silent as Peter pulled off the highway onto the dirt road with 
the sign hanging from a wrought iron archway that read: Puerta del Lago, 
Door of the Lake. Denise looked up through the open sunroof of the silver 
coupe at the towering pines against the azure blue, cloudless sky. The air 
was clean and fresh, though hot - it was late June, and summer was in full 
sway in the mountains. Troy was thinking about the possibilities of getting 
a good piece of ass up here in the mountains. That night with Kelly and 
Carolyn had made him hornier than he thought possible, and the sun and water 
and fresh air only whetted his sexual appetites. He always felt hornier in 
the out-doors. Maybe that's why he dug nature so much. 

They got their first close-up glimpse of the lake, which sparkled in the 
late afternoon sun, as Peter pulled up in front of the garage. They unloaded 
the trunk and put groceries away which they had gotten at a big super market 
in Tahoe City. Troy had seen several luscious young things walking around 
the store, and he made a mental note to drive into town that night and check 
out the scene. He volunteered to chop and stack some wood before going for a 
swim. There would still be hours of light, and they wanted to cook out that 
night. He had only begun the task when his dad came out of the house already 
changed into his swimming suit. 

"I'm going for a swim to cool off! Meet you down there when you get 
through!" he announced to Troy as he headed for the lake. 

"Sure, Dad. What's Denise up to?" Troy called after him. 

"Fiddlin' around. You know, whatever women do. She'll be out in a little 
while," he yelled as he bounded down the beach. 

Troy was walking along one side of the house, looking for more fallen 
branches and dead trees to convert into firewood when he heard the soft 
humming of a woman's voice wafting out a screened window. He became very 
silent, and though he wasn't the peeping Tom type ordinarily, something 
inside him impelled him to tiptoe cautiously to the window and peer in. 
Denise was in the process of taking off her clothes. 

She stepped out of her skirt and laid it on the bed next to her new bikini. 
The swim suit was a little revealing, and she didn't understand why she had 
picked that particular one - her other suits had always been very 
conservative. But for some reason, the shiny black bikini had caught her 
eye. She admitted that she looked sensational in it, though she wasn't 
certain whether she wanted to look sensational or not. 

Her back was to the window, and she was unaware that she was being observed 
by her hot-blooded stepson. He felt a little guilty for spying on his 
stepmother, but he was burning to know what she looked like in the buff. 
After all, she was thirty-three, a lot older than Kelly. He was curious to 
find out how Denise compared to the young redhead. Judging by what he had 
already seen, she compared very favorably. Hell, she was every bit as good 
as Brenda Boxx, the actress whose face was almost a duplicate of his 
stepmother's. 

As she slipped off her blouse, she half turned so that her figure was in 
profile. Her full firm mounds stood up proudly from her chest. In fact, they 
almost pointed up, and the pink nipples looked like cherries on a sundae. 
Her blonde shoulderlength pageboy covered her face as she reached down to 
grab the top of her bikini. When she had tied it at the neck and hooked it 
behind her, she slipped down her panties. Troy's heart was pounding as he 
shifted his gaze to her smooth, curvaceous buttocks. The twin cheeks were 
like two softly ripened melons waiting to be squeezed; the crevice that 
divided them was deep and mysteriously inviting. God!, he thought in rapt 
wonder, his own stepmother was ten times more sensual- than Kelly or the 
actresses in the porno flicks, and he found himself wishing that she would 
turn towards the window so that he could get a good look at her pussy. Her 
hips flared out smooth from her narrow waist, and he could see that her 
belly was flat and youthful. He had never.thought that a woman of 
thirty-three could look so young, so sensual, but the living proof was 
standing not five feet away from him. 

In answer to his thoughts, it seemed, Denise reached for the bottom to her 
bikini and as she tried to step into it, she lost her balance and fell 
backwards on the bed, giving him a clear shot of the silky triangle of soft, 
dark blonde pubic hair that curled from between her thighs. He could even 
see the lips of her pussy! To make matters worse, or better, she lifted her 
legs high in the air and sensuously slipped the bikini on from above her 
head, exposing her whole delicious crevice to his lusting gaze. He could 
even see the tiny protruding bud of her clitoris! The sight was so exciting 
that Troy wanted to tear the screen off the window and leap into the room, 
falling on top of her. He had a passionate longing in his groin, and a 
hard-on that would vie with any stallion's! Denise's pussy looked more 
inviting than Kelly's when the redhead had lowered herself onto his cock! 

It was twenty minutes later when he finally felt that he had the wood they 
needed that night, and he was sweating by the time he tore off his clothes 
and pulled on a pair of trunks. Denise had already gone down to the lake, 
and he couldn't wait to see her in the water. His heart was still pounding 
as he ran to the shore fifty feet from the house. 

He spotted Denise out in the lake, about twenty yards off shore. He was just 
about to wade in when he spotted his father walking along the beach with a 
very attractive young brunette. 

For a moment, Troy was puzzled at the sight of his father walking with a 
strange young thing while Denise was out in the water swimming by herself, 
but as the two approached, Peter seemed to relate to the girl as someone he 
knew. And she was. 

"Troy, I want you to meet the girl next door. Maggie, this is my son, Troy. 
He just got home from school. "Hi, Maggie," Troy grinned shyly. "Hi," she 
answered back. 

She was really a cute little trick, Troy thought, as he squinted down at her 
in the sunlight. She was young, too. Not more than sixteen, he figured. 
Damn! She probably wouldn't fuck if her life depended on it! Just my luck!, 
he thought. Her long dark hair was soaking wet and hung straight down from 
the Weight of the water. Her face was heart shaped and she had a cute 
upturned nose and teeth that protruded slightly from her well-shaped mouth. 
The overbite made her look sexy. That, and her big brown doe eyes with the 
long thick lashes. Her skin was lightly tanned from the sun, and she was 
wearing a peppermint striped bikini that did nothing to hide her soft 
delicate curves. There was something innocently sexy about Maggie. She was a 
Lolita, a little nymphette. 

"I thought you'd never get here, Troy," his father chided gently, "What kept 
you?" 

"Oh, the wood took longer than I thought it would," he answered. He turned 
to look at his stepmother, grinned and waved at her. That was his way of 
telling his father to get lost. Peter Yarbrough got the message. 

"Denise is going to freeze if she stays in that water much longer - unless 
she has someone to tread water around her," he grinned. "Think I'd better 
rescue her. See you later, kids." 

"Your father is very nice," she said as they watched him wade into the water 
and swim out towards his wife. 

"Yeah, he's an all right dude. How did you meet him?" Troy asked. He knew 
his father's penchant for young girls, and he was somewhat wary. He didn't 
want to compete with his old man - and he didn't want him playing around 
with teenage ladies when he had someone like Denise, a real woman! 

"Oh, we've rented the house next door every summer for the last five years. 
I've seen your father several times, but this is the first time this year," 
she answered brightly. Troy glanced down at the junction of her firm slender 
thighs. He could actually see the dark pubic hair under the thin cotton 
bikini! He wondered if she knew that it was visible. She must. If she did, 
it didn't seem to bother her. He could even see her pointed little nipples! 
She had broken out in goosebumps. 

"I'm going back to get my towel ... I'm getting cold," she said and turned 
around. 

"Do you mind if I come with you?" Troy asked. He was looking at her neat 
little ass, so taut and high above her slender shapely legs. "Why not?" she 
answered with a little shrug of her shoulders. 

They walked along the sand making small talk. She asked about his school, he 
asked about hers.. She was in some private girl's school in San Francisco, a 
convent school for rich girls. Christ!, just my luck!, he swore to himself 
again. 

"What's there to do around here, anyway?" he asked as he flopped down on the 
warm sand near her. She was twisting her sexy little body on the towel to 
make the sand conform to her body. 

"Lots, if you know the right people," she said cryptically. 

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he asked, his ears pricking up with interest. 

"Oh, there's a movie in Tahoe City, and restaurants, and picnics at night on 
the beachthat's in addition to the day stuff, swimming, sailing. You know," 
she answered casually. 

"Sounds like a gas," he said ironically. 

"I babysit sometimes," she said, looking up at him with a strange smile. 

"Far out! Think I could get a job like that?" 

"Silly. You're putting me on!" she said coyly. 

"No joke!" 

"Babysitting can be fun, you know, It just depends on who you're 
babysitting..." She was testing him. 

"I could dig that. How about letting me babysit with you?" he said, grinning 
at her impishly again. The idea was forming in his mind that the chick was 
giving him an open invitation to be alone with her. He imagined how it would 
feel to hover over her naked body, his erect cock teasing at the entrance to 
her haughty little pussy while she squirmed and pleaded with him to shove it 
inside. Man he'd like to fuck her right there on the beach, in broad 
daylight! If she would fuck at all, she would fuck back with everything she 
had, and that would be one hell of a lot! 

He could feel his cock starting to get hard again from thinking about 
fucking her, and he suddenly realized that the bulge in his trunk was 
beginning to show. "Think I'll go for a swim, I haven't dunked my body yet," 
he said, getting up. 

"Too bad my name isn't John," she said with a devilish grin on her face. 

"Huh?" He didn't get the joke at first. 

"John the Baptist ..." 

"Oh no!" he said, slapping his hand against his forehead. Maybe the kid 
wasn't so bad after all. She seemed to have a sense of humor, however odd. 
But John the Baptist made him think of the Virgin Mary, and he hoped to hell 
she wasn't related by condition to that lady! For lack of a better rejoinder 
he said, "Whatever's right!" and headed towards the water. 

The water was fairly warm at the edge of the lake, even though it was fed by 
the icy mountain streams that flowed year round and carried melting snow 
down to the jeweled body of water. Twenty feet out, it would be a liquid 
deep-freeze, and that condition would remain all summer. He didn't know how 
Denise could stand it as far out as she was swimming. He looked down the 
beach. There was an outward curve that made it impossible to see the house 
or the swimmers beyond, if they were still in the water, which he doubted. 
But he was used to the Pacific Ocean, and he welcomed a chance to plunge 
into the crystal lake - it would take care of his erection, hopefully. 

He plunged in and started swimming to get the circulation going. The clean, 
lucid water felt great on his body, though it didn't do much to take away 
his hard-on. He was splashing around like a porpoise, diving underwater, 
blowing a stream of water from his mouth as he surfaced. In a little while, 
he had almost forgotten about Maggie. 

Suddenly from somewhere behind him he heard her call, "Hey Mark, Mark 
Spitz!" He whirled around only to get hit full in the face with a huge spray 
of water. The war was on! He took off after her and she screamed as he put 
his hand on top of her head and shoved her under the water. She sputtered 
and gasped and wiped her long hair out of her eyes as she bobbed back up to 
the surface. He dunked her again. This time she didn't come up at all, and 
he looked around in panic. Where the hell was she? He dived down in the 
water and swam frantically around with his eyes open, looking for the petite 
brunette. She was nowhere in sight. Damn! He was really scared now; what a 
dumb-ass thing for him to do, dunking her the second time. 

As he was storing up air for a deeper dive, he felt a tug on his trunks from 
behind ... something was pulling them down off his hips! He looked down into 
the clear water as he grabbed for the trunks to see Maggie! The little 
devil, she had been playing a dirty trick on him all the time! 

He went down clutching frantically at the only thing that kept him from 
total exposure. They scuffled under water, and he managed to find the tie to 
her bikini top and yanked hard. When they both came up for air, her bikini 
top was floating under her breasts, held to her body by only the tie in 
back! 

"Beast!" she shouted to him in mock indignation. 

"Bitch!" he shouted back, a big grin on his face. 

They were both treading water, breathing heavily from the exertion their 
underwater battle created. He was staring openly at her full breasts, whose 
nipples were crinkled and hard from the icy water. She was close enough that 
he could have grabbed one of them, but he didn't dare - yet. But it was 
fairly obvious that she didn't mind exposing herself to him in the least; 
she made no move to pull her top back up. 

"Do you always swim in that condition?" she asked him, eyeing his groin. His 
trunks were bulging from the huge erection. 

"What condition?" he asked teasingly. 

"That condition! she teased, placing her palm right on his cock bulge. 

"Only when I swim with a beautiful girl whose beautiful jugs are hanging out 
bare in front of me!" he answered, grabbing one of them in his hand. She 
didn't pull away, in fact, she moved in closer to him, wrapping one of her 
smooth legs around one of his. She really wanted it! He responded by leaning 
down and planting a kiss on the other breast, taking the hard little nipple 
in his mouth and sucking on it. She put her arm around his neck and pulled 
him closer to her; he made contact with her mouth, driving his tongue deep 
inside hers. She was feeling him up under water, reaching down inside his 
trunks with her small hand to grab his bare cock! Troy was in heaven! 

Before he could stop her, she had his trunks down over his ass and his 
rock-hard cock sprung straight out from his groin! She was exploring him 
like a , blind woman reading Braille, running her fingers up and down his 
length, clutching the bloated head and squeezing it hard. - God, he wanted 
to fuck her right there in the water! He must remember to thank his old man 
for fixing him up with a hot little number like Maggie. 

Thrusting his hips forward, he ground forward to press.the tip of his hard, 
virile penis against the thin, flimsy strip of cotton covering her vagina, 
and it slid between her receptively parted young thighs. The tips of her 
breasts were pressing into his chest, the nipples like tiny buttons of 
pleasure, and she sucked even harder on his tongue as he swirled it around 
and around inside her warm mouth. Suddenly, she reached down with her other 
hand and began to work his trunks down his legs. The water abetted her 
efforts, and before Troy realized what was happening, she had the trunks off 
and was diving down in the water to get them. He went after, but she eluded 
him, and when he looked around again after surfacing, he saw her swimming 
like sixty for the shore! 

"Hey, Maggie! Wait a minute! Gimme back my trunks!" he shouted to her. She 
was about twenty yards ahead of him, just a little ways from shallow water. 

"Come and get 'em!" she shouted back, holding them like a flag in the air 
and laughing devilishly. It was all too apparent that she had absolutely no 
intention of letting him get out of the water with them on! 

"Shit!" Troy swore to nobody in particular. He swam to shallow water and 
stood there for a while, pleading with the young tease to give him back his 
suit. Her answer was to twirl it around in the air on one finger, then put 
it on over her own bikini bottom! Damn! That turned him on too, the intimacy 
of that act. She had her top securely tied around the neck, and her breasts 
looked like grapefruit in a hammock. There was nothing for him to do but get 
out of the water and take the trunks off of her. himself, by God! 

"You're gonna get it now, baby!" he said as he dashed onto the beach. 
"That's what you think, buster!" was her flippant answer, as she got up 
quickly and made a dash for the trees. Troy bounded after her, bare-ass 
naked. Luckily, there wasn't a soul around - he had checked that out before 
he got out of the water. 

Maggie proved to be a great broken field runner, bobbing and weaving and 
darting behind pine trees. But he cornered her and she made the mistake of 
dashing out onto the beach again. He made a flying tackle which brought both 
of them down on the sand, with him on top of her back. She fought like a 
tigress, but he finally wrestled the suit away from her and leapt to his 
feet to pull it on. 

They were panting like dogs by the time the tussle was over, and he got down 
on his knees over her, pinning her wrists to the sand. He looked at her for 
a moment, then gave her a long, hard tonguing kiss, mashing her ripe breasts 
under his chest. "I want to fuck you, Maggie," he said into her open mouth. 

"Tonight ... come over tonight," she breathed back at him, her young chest 
heaving with passion. "I've got to get back now." 

"You mean we can do it at your house?" he asked incredulously, "But what 
about your parents?" 

"I'm babysitting tonight. The house is there, two houses away," she said, 
raising up and pointing in the distance. "It's the brown shingle one right 
on the shore. See it?" 

He did. "Great. What time?" 

"I'm going there at eight. The kid will be in bed in half an hour. He's only 
two. Come by around 8:30. It gets lonely there when I'm all by myself," she 
said, flashing him a come-hither smile. 

"I'll be there at 8:30 sharp. I wouldn't want a beautiful lady like you to 
feel lonely ..." 

 Chapter 5 

The cook-out had been a lovely idea. The night was cool and a glorious full 
moon gave a picture postcard glow to the placid lake framed in tall dark 
pine trees. The last flames of the fire were flickering under the grate and 
Denise was busy doing the last of the clean-up chores inside the house. 
Outside, Peter sat smoking, finishing the last of his wine. He had already 
had three Scotch and waters before they barbequed the chicken. His excessive 
drinking bothered Denise a lot. 

When she finished in the kitchen, she came back outside to join her 
hard-drinking husband. "Where's Troy?" she asked. The curly-haired youth had 
been there when she went in to clean up. 

"He had a little business to attend to," Peter said snidely. 

Denise put two and two together fast. "Oh? You mean that little teeny bopper 
you made such a point of introducing him to?" she answered sarcastically. 

He flashed her a knowing look, his eyes full of daggers. "Maybe. I wouldn't 
put the kid down, Denise, if I were you. You might be able to pick up a few 
tricks from her..." 

Oh! That hit home. He had struck at her, womanhood, at her sexuality in the 
cruelest sort of way, by suggesting that she was no match for a sixteen year 
old girl. She lashed out at him. "That's your department, isn't it? Picking 
up teenage tricks?" 

He drained the last of his Scotch, threw the glass down and stormed off. 
"I'm going for a drive. Don't wait up!" he spit out as he staggered to the 
BMW. He had no business driving, she knew, and she worried about him out on 
the road in that condition. He could kill himself or somebody else. 

"Don't drive, Peter! Please! Go for a walk instead," she pleaded. 

"You mean take a hike, don't you? Isn't that what you'd like, for me to take 
a hike ... permanently?" He was revving up the engine in the expensive 
automobile. 

"No! Of course that isn't what I mean ..." she said. But her words were 
drowned by the noise from the engine as Peter turned the car around and 
roared down the driveway. 

Tears came to her eyes. She stood there for several long moments as the dust 
settled back down around her feet. The night was still, except for the 
sounds of crickets and other night creatures, and once in a while, the soft 
put-put-put of a slow-cruising motor boat with gaily chattering vacationers. 
She was lonely. Lonely and confused, She had made a vow that she would be a 
different woman on this vacation, that she would be the kind of woman in bed 
that her husband wanted and needed her to be. And now, the very first night, 
things had gone all wrong. It suddenly occurred to her that Peter would 
probably still feel the need to chase sweet young things no matter how good 
she was in bed, no matter how completely she gave herself to him. If that 
were so, then what was the point of her liberation, except for herself? 
Well, that was reason enough, wasn't it? Yes ... that was reason enough. If 
the marriage with Peter failed, at least she would be prepared to go out in 
the world on her own as a woman without sexual hangups. She was still young; 
she could find a man, surely, who would find her worthy of his love ... 

But she knew that in her heart, she really wanted Peter. She loved her 
husband, and she desperately wanted for the marriage to succeed. 

She paced around the dying campfire like a caged animal, not knowing what to 
do for herself. The night was still young, only nine o'clock. She had to 
kill time. She couldn't bear to go inside and read - she spent too much time 
reading at home in Piedmont anyway, burying her nose in a book in an effort 
to escape the realities of her existence. It was more like being an ostrich, 
burying her head in the sand so that she didn't have to see what was going 
on around her, didn't have to face painful facts. She decided to go for a 
walk, to clear her mind and hopefully get a perspective of the problems at 
hand. She knew from experience that she would have a hard time sleeping - 
the altitude always affected her with insomnia. 

Except for the moonlight, it was quite dark. Now and then she would see the 
lights of a house or another campfire, but it was mainly dark; dark and 
shadowed and quiet. Very peaceful. Comforting, really. She could cry without 
fear of anyone seeing her tear-stained face. 

She must have walked about a quarter of a mile when she spotted a small 
house that butted up to the beach, almost an obstruction. There was a dim 
light on in the living room, behind the open porch, and the twang of an 
electric guitar punctuated by the insistent thump of a drum. There were 
other sounds - human sounds; sounds of passion. She was about to walk 
discreetly past when she heard a sound that was distinctly familiar: it was 
Troy's voice! Her heart skipped a beat and she froze in her tracks. The next 
sensation she felt was a sharp pang of jealousy. Troy and that little 
trollup! Oh no! 

If it had been anyone else, she would have smiled to herself and walked on, 
not the least interested on playing the voyeur. But because she knew it was 
Troy, she couldn't resist tiptoeing softly up the porch steps and going to 
the window. 

She gasped and clamped her hand to her mouth as she saw Troy "doing it" to 
that little brunette bitch right on the living room floor! A thousand 
emotions flashed through her brain, all of them overwhelming. She was 
riveted to the porch floor, unable to move or to take her eyes away from the 
violent scene on the braided rug. Troy would never forgive her if he knew 
she had been spying on him in this most intimate act. Dear God, please don't 
let him find out!, she prayed silently. 

Maggie Gefferson's knees were pressed far back, knees practically touching 
the ground at her shoulders, and her wide-spread loins were completely open 
and visible as she bucked under the driving lunges of the long hard penis 
skewering rhythmically into her open vagina. The dark silkiness of her pubic 
hair was parted, flared out b,., the thickness of the ramming cock of 
Denise's stepson, that plunged again and again into the moist pink opening 
of her tightly clinging cunt. The bud of her clitoris was erect and 
throbbing, responding to the contact of his groin as he speared deep into 
her belly, and his balls slapped noisily against the open crevice that 
divided the smooth rounded globes of her buttocks. When he withdrew, the 
hard fleshy cock, noisily slick with her excited cuntal juices, would force 
the tight flesh of her naked young pussy to roll out, then roll inward again 
as his cock disappeared all the way up inside her. Just below the moist 
flanges of her cunt was the tiny puckered hole of her anus that seemed to 
suck and work at the softly dancing sac of his balls as they slammed against 
it. 

The girl was groaning incessantly, her head rolling and flailing 
ecstatically from side to side, making a tangle of her long dark hair. It 
was all too obvious how much she was loving it! Denise tried desperately to 
divert her eyes, but something made leer stare at her stepson's muscular 
driving young buttocks as he pistoned into the girl's openly receiving cunt. 
The trim, sinuous cheeks tightened and untightened with the rhythm of his 
fucking, and she was astounded by the size of his manly young penis. The 
lust-hardened shaft, now glistening with vaginal secretions, was lined with 
blue veins that pounded with his excitement, the throbbing becoming more and 
more intense with each passing second. He was really giving it to the girl, 
and she kept begging and pleading for more! 

Transfixed by the sheer lewdness of the scene, Denise was unable to get her 
feet to move, to get away from the appalling spectacle she was witnessing - 
the fucking of that whorish little nymph by her own innocent stepson. To her 
surprise, she found the lewd naked vision of the two wildly fucking young 
people very arousing. Her legs felt weak, and she began to tremble as she 
felt the tiny pulsing bud of her clitoris stiffen with desire. She had a 
perverse and overpowering urge to reach down between her thighs and touch it 
with her finger. Her head was spinning with a lusting desire for 
satisfaction, and she remembered how delirious she was with "Troy" in Dr. 
Berger's office, when he had sucked her pussy then held her on his lap while 
she rode his cock to another thrilling climax. She wanted it again, only 
with Troy on top of her, the way he was on top of that little teenage slut. 

"Put your finger in my asshole, Troy!" the girl said loudly as she bucked 
under his virile, pistoning young cock. Oh no! Surely he wouldn't do that! 
The words floated out into the calm night air, filling Denise both with 
revulsion and with curious desire. She stared at the girl's tiny puckered 
anus with awe as her stepson worked his fingers toward it, finding the 
clasping, rubbery hole. Slowly he wormed his middle finger into her hungrily 
devouring little rectum as the girl winced and gasped. Denise was open 
mouthed as she watched her stepson's sturdy middle finger disappearing into 
the girl's tiny anal passage while the teenager screamed out her pleasure 
with anguished sighs and moans. Her loins were being plundered mercilessly 
by two hard, fleshy instruments at the same time. The lewdly locked young 
couple were near having an orgasm now, and a shrill cry from Maggie's mouth 
shocked Denise into the horrible realization that the girl was about to cum! 
She was, in fact, cumming crazily, and so was Troy. The sudden stiffening of 
his muscular young body, the way he closed his eyes and gasped, his whole 
body covered with perspiration, all told Denise that her beloved stepson was 
sending his boiling cum into the vaginal depths of the young brunette. By an 
enormous effort of will, she forced herself to walk woodenly down the stairs 
and onto the cool sand, breaking into a run when she was only a few yards 
down the beach. 

She ran blindly, the tears clouding her vision, so that she failed to notice 
a large broken branch on the beach and stumbled over it, falling hard to the 
ground and scratching her leg badly. For a while, she lay there, her head 
buried in her arms, and sobbed out her heartbreak. She kept telling herself 
that it was ridiculous - Troy was a free agent and filled with the hot blood 
of youth. He had every right to fuck any girl who would let him. But she 
still felt betrayed somehow. And she envied the two .of them because they 
had found something with each other that she had only rarely experienced 
with her own husband, the man she loved! It wasn't fair, dammit! 

That little teenage whore, acting like a female cat in heat, seducing her 
pure and beautiful stepson, getting him to fuck her with his gorgeous hard 
cock. It was a vile display of sexual promiscuity, a cheap stunt by some 
girl to take Troy away from his family! Worst of all, it had excited her 
terribly, making her want to stick her own fingers into her cunt. Oh God! 
She was still on fire with desire, and there she was, all alone. Peter was 
probably picking up another cheap slut in a bar, getting drunk as a skunk. 
Even if he did come home to her, he would be useless as a lover. 

She got up finally, afraid that someone might come walking along the beach 
and find her lying there like that. She hobbled back to the house, favoring 
her right leg. The fire in her own belly only became more intense, even 
though she desperately wanted to shut out the lewdly naked images in her 
mind. She couldn't erase the sight of her stepson's lust-hardened young 
penis, stiff and throbbing, as it hammered relentlessly into the teenage 
girl's liquid-pink cunt. 

She went into the bathroom and took a long shower, wincing as the warm water 
stung her scraped leg. Then she dressed again and poured herself a stiff 
drink, going back outside to the glowing embers of the fire. She sat down 
heavily, realizing that the scene she had witnessed had firmly and 
irrefuteably marked the reality of her incestuous desire for her stepson. 
Worse than that, she realized that she had some kind of emotional attachment 
for him akin to romantic love. How could it be possible? She was in love 
with his father! Wasn't she? Could a woman be in love with both father and 
son at the same time? No - it was a stupid schoolgirl crush! Oh God! 
Thirty-three years old and she had a crush on her nineteen year old stepson! 

She drained the glass hastily, feeling the warming glow from the medicinal 
liquor as it burned into her chest. She went back to the kitchen and poured 
herself another one, drinking half of it before she refilled the glass again 
and went back to the dying embers of the campfire. Maybe it wasn't a crush 
after all. Maybe she was jealous because she didn't have the kind of sexual 
relationship with Peter that was totally fulfilling to either of them. She 
didn't know. She didn't understand anything now, except that her body was on 
fire with lust. Like the girl her stepson had been fucking, she too had 
strong sexual needs, needs that she had carefully held down all these years. 
Now she was anxious to have those needs fulfilled - by anyone, even her own 
stepson! Especially her stepson! That was the horrible reality of it, and it 
made her feel guiltier than she could bear. She had to drown her thoughts in 
alcohol. 

She walked unsteadily back to the kitchen. This time, she took the bottle in 
her hand and brought it back outside with her. She had never been much of a 
drinker, never really liked the stuff much. But she was hellbent on 
obliterating all those disturbing thoughts from her mind. Peter wasn't the 
only one who could drown his sorrows in booze! 

She lost all track of time as she desperately fought the overwhelming urge 
to go into the bedroom and lie on the bed with her legs spread wise, to give 
herself the release she so badly needed, and with her own fingers. Instead, 
she drank. She barely looked up when Peter pulled the BMW into the garage 
and walked over to her. 

"Well, well, well. Having a few by yourself, eh?" he said, slurring his 
words. He had grown remorseful as he sat in a bar belting down a few, 
thinking that he had really been a bastard to his lovely wife. He had come 
back after an hour and a half, expecting to apologize and make up - and make 
out. He was totally unprepared to find her in her cups, and he blamed 
himself for upsetting her, which made him angry at her. 

"Two can play the game as well as one," she said, looking up at him hazily. 
"What's good for the gander is good for the goose ... dear." She wondered if 
he would catch her double entendre - she was thinking about his sexcapades 
with other women. In fact, she couldn't get her mind off of sex. Instead, he 
assumed that she was drinking to get back at him, and that's what the 
sarcasm meant. 

"Issat so? Well then, how's about letting me take a gander at your goose, 
huh?" he said, walking over to her and lifting up her skirt. She made no 
move to push his hand away. Instead, she stretched out her long legs and 
fanned her knees back and forth. "Help yourself, baby, if you can still 
goose it up!" 

Peter's jaw dropped. Drunk as he was, he was still alert enough to be 
shocked by what his prim, uptight wife had said to him. It was totally 
unlike her to be so blatant, so crude. He loved it! 

She sat there, looking up at him defiantly, daring him to put the meat to 
her. She was going to show him that she could be as good a whore as that 
cock-teasing little teenage bitch he thought was so "cute." 

He was still open mouthed when she got up shakily, holding onto the arm of 
the folding chair, and started for the house. A few steps further, she 
stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. She gave him a provocative 
sideways smile. "Well, big boy, what are you standing there for?" she said 
seductively through her slur. The shadows on her body made her look like a 
she-devil, and Peter found his cock stirring with excitement as her sultry 
sensual voice reached his ears. She was willing and ready to fuck! God, he'd 
have to get her drunk more often! 

She stuck her tongue out at him, wagging it obscenely between her ovalled 
lips. His cock lurched to instant erectness. He followed her into the house 
like a sailor called by a Siren of the sea. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When his focus 
became clear, he saw that Denise was already slipping out of her panties. 
She still had her dress on, which surprised him. But he was ready for 
anything. He stretched out on the bed, his arms under his head, to wait for 
her next move. 

She had no idea how to go about being sexy on purpose, though she was 
naturally sexy anyway, but she wanted to get him hotter than he had ever 
been. She wanted to prove to him that no juvenile sexpot had anything on 
her! Somehow, it was more important now than it had ever been before. 

She walked slowly over to the bed and kneeled over him, still wearing her 
dress. Slowly, she began to lift the dress up, further and further, stopping 
for long breathless moments to tease him. Suddenly her delectable pussy - 
her bare pussy - came into view. He almost went out of his mind! She scooted 
forward until the musky sweetness was only inches from his lips. "Lick it, 
baby. Stick your tongue inside and lick it good. Do it for me, Peter," she 
ordered him, sliding her legs apart and covering his face with his loins. 
His tongue shot hungrily into her open pussy, and she jerked upwards with 
the first nerve-shattering contact. She let him tongue her to orgasmic 
ecstasy - which took about forty-five seconds! Then she tore off her dress 
and scooted down his fully clothed body, giving him a passionate French kiss 
and tasting her own pussy juices on his mouth. She was still on fire! 

"I'm going to suck your cock, Peter. I'm going to suck it until you cum in 
my mouth, sweetheart," she breathed huskily into his face. His look was one 
of astonishment. Her words were an aphrodisiac to him, the impact of her 
statement hitting him like a diesel engine at full speed. She actually 
wanted to suck him off! After all the times he'd tried to get her to do it, 
and now she was offering, she was telling him! Her hand was on his fly, 
massaging him through the worsted material. 

Seconds later, she was kneeling between his legs, her fingers working 
feverishly to free his throbbing member. Deftly she worked his penis out of 
the pants and pulled it free of the restricting clothes. 

"Mmmmmmm!" she said, licking her lips. She was playing the role of 
seductress to the hilt. "Looks good enough to eat ..." Her husband's long 
hard rod made her hand look small by comparison, and even in the dim light 
from the moon, the throbbing purple head seemed to glow with passion. She 
wrapped her long fingers tightly around the base of the thick rod, pumping 
them up and down slightly to make it grow bigger. 

She stared at the blood-filled member, a hazy lusting gaze in her eyes, but 
her manner was loose and casual and deliberate. She worked her hand slowly 
up and down, and Peter could hardly contain himself. She was being so 
sensual, so wanton, he could hardly restrain himself from pushing her back 
on the bed and fucking her ass off right then. But getting his cock sucked 
was a rare treat, and he had to have that first. 

Denise let out a deep throated sigh as she moved her face close to his 
pounding cock, finding her new experience more fascinating than she had ever 
imagined. Then, as if to tease him more, she opened her mouth and breathed 
hot air over the tip of his penis. Tiny drops of fluid seemed to be nestled 
just inside the dilated slit, and suddenly she flicked her tongue out, 
licking in the delicate seminal fluid to thrill him even more. But it also 
thrilled her. She wanted more! 

Her tongue was warm and sticky as it struck his cock, and the dazed Peter 
Yarbrough had to force his mind elsewhere for a moment to keep from shooting 
his hotly boiling sperm up into her face right then and there. The sensation 
flashed down his lust-hardened rod to the base of his groin, then seemed to 
rebound through his entire body. Her tongue was moist, and she rolled it 
over her lips as she brought it back into her sensually puckering mouth. 
Then she again flicked it out at the blood-filled head of his painfully 
swollen penis. His balls were like huge reservoirs of cum, and he could feel 
the sperm stirring angrily within, about to burst the walls. 

She continued the flicking action for several moments, but then suddenly, 
she was all over the fleshy column, her tongue licking slavishly up and down 
the sensitive urethra tube, while her fingers worked erotically over the 
base of his cock. She was growling like a tigress, her other hand worming 
into his open fly to find his sperm-bloated balls. She cupped them almost 
reverently, as though they were fragile and priceless objects, as she 
planted erotic kisses on his excited penis. It was too much to take, and he 
had to make her realize that she was going to make him shoot off without 
ever really sucking him if she kept that up. 

"Oh, baby, you've got to suck it now. Suck it, honey," he groaned, feeling 
the mounting pulsations in his groin. Her long blonde hair was spilling down 
around her head, the silken strands of her pageboy tickling lightly against 
his balls. Moistening her lips with her tongue, Denise formed her mouth into 
a tiny O and lowered her face onto the tip of his pulsating prick. When she 
made contact, she spread her lips apart just enough to take in the thickness 
of the column and sucked slowly inward, watching the throbbing cock 
disappear slowly up inside her warmly welcoming oral cavity. Her lips were 
tight and sensational, and her tongue swirled crazily around his cockhead as 
it moved inside her mouth. He couldn't hold still for another second, and he 
arched his hips off the bed, shoving his cock deep into her unsuspecting 
throat. 

"Uuuuummmmgggghh!" she gagged from the sudden penetration to her throat. But 
she made no attempt to pull her head back. Instead, she moaned as her tongue 
worked over the sensitive flesh of his penis like a whip, and he leaned 
forward on his elbows, enthralled and excited at the sight of her sexy 
sucking motions. She had taken all of his penis into her mouth and she still 
held the base tightly in her hand. With her other hand, she continued the 
slow and gentle caressing of his sperm-heavy balls. Her tongue swirled wetly 
around the head of his cock, and then she slowly raised her head, nibbling 
down into the hard flesh as she went. He couldn't remember ever having 
anything like it, and he was sorry for having missed her sucking him off for 
so long in their marriage. Denise was really showing a talent that he had 
only dreamed might exist in her, but more than that, she was showing him 
something in her nature that had lain dormant all this time. It boded well 
for the rest of their sex life. 

Her head began to bob rhythmically up and down on his lustfully throbbing 
shaft, her oral fucking sending liquid fire through his loins as she sucked 
deep into her mouth and blew slowly out again. 

"Ohhhhhh... SUUUUUCCKK!" he groaned as he watched her maddeningly sensual 
maneuvers on his cock. He raised and lowered his hips in time to her bobbing 
head, watching his hard maleness fucking her roundly pursed mouth. His prick 
was glistening lewdly from her saliva, and her widely ovalled lips pulled 
salaciously along the shaft as it slid in and out. Her cheeks were bloated 
with the full extent of his cock, the rubbery tip lashing the very back of 
her throat, and he was sure she would choke as she mouth-fucked him on and 
on in frenzied passionate abandon. 

The boiling hot cum in his balls felt like it was going to explode any 
minute, and he arched his hips up as he lay back down flat to savor the 
exquisite sensation of her sucking mouth around his balls too, as she paused 
to suck them into her mouth one by one. The next surprise he got was the 
touch of her lips to his anus! God, she was sticking her tongue in there! 

When she had tongued his asshole thoroughly, she went back to his cock, 
substituting her finger for her tongue at the puckered brown door of his 
rectum. The tight sphincter muscle contracted greedily with passion, and she 
closed her mouth tightly around his aching cock as she suddenly shoved her 
middle finger right inside his anus! 1; was too much! He knew he would have 
to shoot off in her mouth soon or his whole body would erupt like a raging 
volcano. He had thought lie couldn't possibly be more excited than he 
already was when he saw her hand reappear from his anus and disappear into 
her cunt! 

"God! Oh, suck it, baby! Suck it off!" he shouted at her, the sensations of 
his body focused at the head of his penis. Her tongue swirled and licked at 
his ever-growing hardness, while her teeth and lips pulled and sucked up and 
down the saliva-drenched rod. His balls drew up tightly as her fingers 
played rapidly over and around them, causing his whole lower pelvis to lift 
up off of the bed, sinking his lust-tortured cock deep up into the warmth of 
her mouth. He was there, and lip reached down, curling his fingers in her 
soft blonde hair to hold her head down on his tingling member. He wanted to 
make sure she would take all of his fiery white cum into her beautiful 
mouth, to make up for all the deprivation she had put him through during the 
two years of their marriage. 

Her cheeks bloated out as the seething flood of passion liquid spewed hotly 
into her throat. 

"I'm cuuuummmiiiinng! Keep succckkkiiinnnggg!" he cried, almost pulling her 
hair out by the roots. 

Denise gulped and swallowed as fast as she Could, turned on beyond belief by 
the thrilling flood of liquid in her mouth and by the taste of his acrid sex 
fluid. Inflamed by the first taste and smell of her husband's hot male seed 
in her,mouth, Denise .drove her fingers deeper and deeper up inside her 
voraciously clasping cunt, finger-fucking herself crazily as she strained 
for her own release. Before Peter had shot the last of his boiling semen 
into her mouth, she had cum for the second time that night, her belly 
spasming with her own exploding orgasm. 

Peter drove his hips up, his cock sliding into her widely ovaled mouth again 
and again as his sperm pumped crazily down her throat and into her belly. 
The bed groaned under the pummeling force of their mutual orgasm as Denise 
whined a highpitched scream over his cock. 

When she finally raised her head and let his slowly deflating cock slip from 
her sperm-coated lips, there was a Cheshire cat grin on her face. A thin 
string of his expended cum dribbled from the edge of her mouth to his cock, 
and eager to get it all, she swirled it up with her tongue, grinning all the 
while. Her fingers were still inside the warmly quivering lips of her 
vagina, and she pointed to his spent cock with the other hand and then 
pointed to her cunt. "Fuck time, darling!" she said cheerily. He moaned a 
little, but he was only stalling for time. It wouldn't be long before he was 
fucking her into ecstasy. He didn't know if it was the booze, or what. But 
something had come over her, and at a time like this, who was he to ask 
questions" 

 Chapter 6 

"Hey, Denise, want to go backpacking today" Troy asked brightly when she had 
finally stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. She had a splitting headache and 
that gnawing, queasy feeling that marks the alcohol hangover. She squinted 
against the bright sunlight that flooded the airy kitchen. 

"Ooooohhhh!" she groaned, holding her head. She couldn't look at her young 
stepson. The memory of his fucking that teenager was still vivid in her 
mind. Remembering her drunken orgy with his father didn't help things 
either. She had acted like a wanton whore, that was the simple truth of it. 
Her performance had been shameful and disgusting. The undeniable truth was, 
she had been herself for the first time in her life, she realized. She 
wanted to do those vile and disgusting things with her husband. Yes, and she 
wanted to do them with her stepson, too! She ached for his young cock. She 
remembered wondering if his cum would taste like his father's as she had 
swallowed Peter's bitter semen. And it made her feel guilty, so very guilty. 
Dr. Berger had told her that it wasn't really her guilt, it was laid on her 
by her parents, right? At this moment, she couldn't accept that theory. She 
couldn't forget the perfection of Troy's virile body as he hovered over that 
girl's naked loins, and it filled her with jealousy, and with violent 
longing for the handsome blond youth. She was so caught up in her own 
troubling thoughts that she didn't realize Troy was staring at her. 

"Got a hangover, huh?" he asked quietly. "I can fix you right up." He got 
nimbly off the high stool at the long counter and went to the refrigerator, 
producing a beer and a raw egg. He grabbed a small can of tomato juice and 
mixed them all together. "Down the hatch!" he said, offering the glass to 
her. The mixture made her feel more nauseous than ever, and she turned her 
head away. "No, please. It makes me ill just to look at it," she protested 

"C'mon, Denny, it'll make you feel much better. Just close your eyes and 
chugalug. If you hold your nose, you won't be able to taste it at all." 

She reluctantly did as she was told, forcing herself to drink the disgusting 
remedy until she had drained the glass. She frowned and shuddered violently 
as she handed it back to him. "Oooooh, God, that's awful!" she said, 
grimacing. 

He was studying her again, scrutinizing her actually, and she couldn't 
figure out why, until she looked down and noted with horror that her light 
robe was half way open under the sash, giving Troy a shot of her pussy and 
half her breasts! She gasped and hurriedly pulled the robe together, drawing 
the sash tightly around her waist. "Why didn't you tell me my robe was 
open?" she asked him indignantly. 

"Well, it's kind of embarrassing to say to a lady, you know. Like you 
saying, Hey Troy, your fly's open. Besides, I was enjoying the view. You 
have a beautiful body, Denise." 

Damn! Why did he have to say that? It only made her desire for him stronger. 
There was a strong sexual current that passed between them in the silence of 
the kitchen. They both felt it, and each knew that the other felt it. 

"Dad's really a lucky stiff," he went on, his eyes never leaving her face. 
"I'd. give anything to have a woman like you to make love with..." 

"You seem to be doing all right," she . said, unable to avoid the reference 
to Maggie. 

"Oh ... Maggie? She's just a kid," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. 

"A kid, huh? It seems to me she's trying very hard to be grown up ..." 

Troy was getting suspicious. "What do you mean, Denny?" 

"Nothing, nothing at all. It's just that, well, - she was certainly coming 
on strong to you, from what I saw. 

"I think she comes on strong to everyone," he said cryptically. 

She looked at him sharply. "By the way, where's your father?" she asked, 
walking over to the sink. 

"He went sailing." 

"Alone? Why didn't you go along?" she wanted to know. 

"Three's a crowd. Besides, I figured you shouldn't have to be left alone," 
he answered, taking a step . in her direction. The tension was building. 
"You're alone enough as it is." 

"Three? Who ... who did he go sailing with?" she asked, turning and walking 
over to the sink. 

"Maggie Gefferson. She was having trouble with the boat. Dad offered to give 
her a lesson in hclrnsmanship." 

"Helmsmanship! That's a new word for it!" Denise said, blinking back the 
tears as she stood over the sink fiddling with the faucets. So, after last 
night, after her award-winning performance as the 
sheltered-wife-turned-seductress, he was bastard enough to go off with that 
little teenage whore! It sickened her, particularly since she felt a loss of 
self-esteem. I guess I'm not such a hot number after all, she mused sadly to 
herself. Oh, God! What was she going to do? 

"Don't worry, Denny. He'll be back pretty soon," he said, walking up behind 
her and putting his hands around her shoulders. She tensed and started to 
tremble slightly. "I'm not such bad company for a while, am I?" he said 
softly. 

"Of course not, Troy," she answered, trying her best to retain her 
composure. Why was he putting his hands on her shoulders like that? Surely 
he couldn't be interested in ... in doing what she wanted to do ... No. He 
was just feeling sorry for her, or toying with her, making fun of her 
secretly. That was it. 

"You nccdn't feel obligc;d to keep me company," she said coldly. "I'm a big 
girl. I can take care of myself. I don't need your pity." 

Troy was stung. Pity was the furthest thing from his mind, and he was damned 
glad to have a chance to be alone with his father's wife. 

"Hey, Denny, you got it all wrong! I don't know why you had to say a thing 
like that. That's a little below. the belt." He dropped his hands from her 
shoulders and walked away. She suddenly dropped her head and burst out in 
sobs. Her pathetic crying brought him back, and this time he whirled her 
around and enfolded her in his strong arms, stroking her silky hair and 
patting her on the back consolingly. "Don't cry, Denny. Please don't cry. It 
tears me up to see you cry like this." He was furious with his father. What 
a bastard. What was wrong with the dude, playing around when he h a[1 one of 
the most beautiful women in the world! 

He was intoxicated with the scent of her hiii. her skin. He privately 
thought that Denise was one the sexiest women he had ever seen. Despite 
himself, he felt his cock begin to stiffen in his cut-off jeans as he held 
her in his arms, her warm woman's body pressed close to his, with only the 
thin robe between them. 

He tilted her face up and wiped her tears away, then he grinned broadly at 
her, trying to cheer her up. The grin changed to a look of intense desire as 
they communicated with their eyes the longing that each of them felt. He 
couldn't help himself, he had to kiss her. He had to! 

He brought his mouth down on hers hard. She was ready for him, and opened 
her mouth wide to receive his tongue. Their kiss was long and passionate and 
she made no resistence when he pushed her thighs apart with his knee, nor 
when he fumbled for the tie of her robe ... 

* * * 

That morning Peter Yarbrough had buttonholed his son to get the straight 
"skinny" on young Maggie Gefferson. He came right to the point. "Howja make 
out last night with that cute little mermaid I introduced you to?" 

"What makes you think I made out, Dad?" he answered, dodging the question. 

"C'mon now, Troy. Don't try to con your old man. Like father like son," he 
chuckled. 

"Oh, she's a cute gal, all right. A nice kid, I suppose ..." He shrugged, as 
if to say he really hadn't gotten too far. He wasn't about to tell his 
father that he fucked the ass off of her! 

"She sure has changed. Used to be a skinny kid with braces on her teeth. 
Amazing how kids grow up. But you don't seem too enthusiastic about her. Not 
your type, huh?" 

"I don't know her that well, Dad. Maybe she is, and maybe she isn't," he 
lied, not wanting to pursue the matter further. "I'm going for a swim. Want 
to join me?" 

"Sure thing. Your stepmother had a few too many last night. She's sleeping 
it off." 

It was while they were swimming that Maggie had sailed up, or rather, luffed 
up. The boat wasn't that big, only a twelve foot day sailer. But she was 
having trouble with it. That's when Peter gallantly offered to give her a 
lesson. Troy saw it as an opportunity to spend some time getting to know his 
stepmother better, so he declined. Peter seemed not to mind at L, l I 

In fact, he was overjoyed. Maggie had given him a come-on, he thought, when 
he had run into her the day before. He wasn't going to cut in on his son's 
time if there was anything going between the two of them, but there didn't 
seem to be, judging from Troy's reaction. He would use the opportunity to be 
alone with her to find out what was what. 

Neil wasn't prepared for the teenager's overt invitation to him as they 
sailed around a little cove on the other side of the lake. She had said the 
reason she liked Troy was that he reminded her so much of his father! She 
confessed that she had had a crush on Peter since she was a little girl - 
she much preferred older, experienced men ... especially when they were 
soooo handsome! 

It was an obvious invitation that was difficult to turn down, despite the 
wild time he had had with Denise the night before. But that was with booze. 
And Denise didn't drink, as a rule. No doubt she would be the same prim and 
proper bitch tonight. Besides, what harm would it do to pick up a little 
piece of ass when it was being handed to him on a silver platter? The kid 
was sprawled on the deck of the boat with her legs open, resting on her 
elbows with her big tits stuck up in the air, just asking for him to fuck 
her! 

And that's how it happened that they found themselves beaching the sailboat 
and throwing the cushions down in the open cockpit and tearing off their 
swimming suits for a wild fuck. Only the kid didn't want the conventional 
banging - she wanted it in the ass! And that's where she got it! 

"Ooooohhh! Ooooouuuu! Yeeeesss, daaaadddyyy! Fuck my aaaaasss! Haaaarrd!" 
she screamed. She was bent over, her elbows resting on the cushions, her ass 
high, in the air and her nude young breasts swaying and dancing lewdly with 
the rolling motions of her behind. Peter's huge cock slammed in and out of 
her tight young anus with tremendous force. He was bent over her back, his 
arms around her and his hands cupping the ripe titflesh. Maggie was grunting 
and mewling crazily from the pleasure and pain, ramming her buttocks back 
against his hard driving cock, begging for more. They were both immersed in 
their perverted act,; not caring whether anyone saw them or not. 

Peter's cock was slamming into the girl's anus with fury, his body covered 
with perspiration. Maggie was moaning continually, her buttocks moving in 
circles as she raised her hips up to him. She reached back under her 
lust-battered body, her hand extended, and she suddenly wormed three fingers 
into her moistly aroused pussy. She took up his rhythm with her fingers, 
fucking them up her tight young cunt while her ovally stretched rectum was 
pounded mercilessly with his lust-hardened cock. 

Their fucking was becoming more and more frenetic, both of them groaning and 
grunting their mutual passion as they neared orgasm, the tight rubbery flesh 
of Maggie's rectum rolling in and out with the driving, deep plowing shaft 
of her unfaithful married lover. It was erotically overwhelming, and the 
young teenage girl felt her own climax coming upon her with fantastic speed. 
With a low, earthy grunt, she fucked faster into her own cunt with her 
fingers. 

"Ooooouuuu! Aaaaahhhh!" she screamed as she felt a building spasm violently 
jarring her belly. Never had anything been so wonderful, not with any of the 
many dudes she had fucked before. This was better, a man old enough to be 
her father, that's what turned her on the most! She loved it! She loved all 
of the perverse and vile symbols attached to it. She was getting ass-fucked 
by that beautiful blonde woman's husband ... that would show her! 

"Ooooohhh, yeeesss! Fuuuuck meeee!" she screamed as her body erupted with a 
cunt-flooding orgasm of insane ecstasy. Her body was. one violently 
shuddering mass of young flesh and bones. Their bodies were fused together 
in blinding passion. 

"Uuuuuggghhh! Aaaaggghhh!" Peter cried. Ile was cumming, shooting his hot 
sperm into her tightly clenching rectum with the force of afire hose. Maggie 
felt the first white hot blast of cum strike her belly like a sizzling bolt 
of lightning, her lover's cock spewing his sperm deep, deep up inside her 
rectum, her greedily milking rectum ... 

* * * 

Slipping his hands inside her robe, Troy cupped the twin trembling mounds of 
breastflesh belonging to his stepmother, then he teasingly rolled the 
nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He thought she had the most 
beautiful breasts he had ever seen. They were perfect. She was breathing 
very hard, her.body on fire with lust as he bent down to kiss them tenderly 
at first, then draw them, one by one, into his warm wet mouth. 

Denise couldn't stop her hands from going to his fly and eagerly unzipping 
it to reach in and find his naked cock, the cock he had fucked the teenager 
with so beautifully the night before. Now, in her fevered hand, it seemed 
even bigger than it looked when she had seen it plunging in and out of 
Maggie's wet pink cunt. Troy moaned softly and reached down between her legs 
to tease the soft curls of her pussy. He slid his fingers along the wetly 
seeping little slit, finally coming to rest on the erect bud of her 
clitoris. Denise's legs felt like jelly. She was leaning against the sink, 
otherwise she might have collapsed from sheer joy. Troy moved his fingers 
around and around on her wildly throbbing clitoris, faster and faster. She 
pumped his cock faster and faster in her hand. She was shaking violently as 
they tongued each other's mouth passionately again. She moaned softly into 
his mouth as she felt the familiar waves of orgasm building and building in 
her loins. She felt she should stop him, but she couldn't, she didn't want 
to. It felt soooo marvelous. So marvelous that ... 

"Oooooooh, Troy ... darling, I'm ... I'm cumming. I'm cuuuummmmiiinnng!" Her 
pussy juices gushed over his teasing, rotating fingers as she came and came, 
her body racked with a thundering climax. 

Afterwards, she hugged him tightly to her, still trembling. His rock-hard 
cock was still in her hand, and she was still on fire for him, her orgasm 
only making her want more. 

"Oh, oh darling. Now you. Let me suck you off. Let me taste your sweet cum, 
darling," she whispered to him. 

And she did. He stood where he was, so that he could look out the window to 
see if the sailboat approached, and Denise knelt down, taking his delicious 
young prick in her mouth and lovingly licking and lapping it with the skill 
of an expert. He stroked her soft hair as she ministered to his throbbing 
shaft with her soft mouth and tongue, and he thought again that his father 
was not only a prick, he was nuts. Any guy who would cheat on a woman like 
Denise had to be screwed up, a retarded half-wit! 

He came in her mouth, filling her with his spewing cum. It was sweeter than 
his father's - she loved it. She could have sucked him forever, and would 
have, except that Troy spotted the sailboat heading for shore. He went to 
his room to get his trunks, and Denise went to the bathroom to rinse her 
mouth and brush her teeth, but not before they had given each other another 
long, passionate kiss, making plans to find a way to be together that night. 
She had never felt more like a woman. 

* * * 

 Dear Mom: 

I've decided to stay up at Lake Tahoe for a few more weeks. Hope you don't 
mind. It's so great here, the mountains are fantastic, and I go swimming and 
sailing every day. 

There are a lot of people my age. And there's lots to do. Dad had to go back 
to work, but he drives up for long weekends. He has to go on another trip to 
Europe soon. Denise is a neat lady, and we've become very good friends. 
(Hope you don't mind.) 

See you sometime in August. 

 Love, 

 Troy 

He sealed the letter and got up from the desk, placing a stamp on the 
envelope. He walked over to where the beautiful blonde woman was sitting, 
holding a magazine on her lap. She was wearing a black bikini, which did 
little to conceal her ample breasts, her narrow waist and gentle flaring 
hips. Her long legs were crossed as she wrote on a postcard. Troy leaned 
over her and gave her a long, tonguing kiss, reaching inside her bikini top 
to squeeze one of her luscious breasts. She responded immediately. 

"Hey, cut that out," she said with a twinkling grin. "I can't concentrate on 
my writing when you do things like that!" 

"That's the idea," the youth grinned back. 

"I'm almost finished, darling, "then you can take these to the post office." 

"And when I get back?" he grinned again, reaching down to stroke her smooth 
thigh. 

"I'll be waiting, my love," she answered, reaching out to grab his 
stiffening cock and rub her hand up and down the fabric of his Levi's. 

"I'm going to fuck you, Denny. You know that, don't you? I'm going to fuck 
your beautiful little pussy until you scream for mercy !" 

"You'd better!" she answered, going back to her writing. On the back of a 
picture postcard she hastily scrawled a brief but significant message: 

Dear Dr. Berger: 

You were right, and I thank you. I don't know whether 

you've helped me save my marriage, but you've helped me 

save me, and that's what counts. Troy and I are both 

grateful ... 

 Gratefully, 

 Denise Y.--a lady free of guilt! 


The End
