The Round Robin
by Juanita Street
(XR-129)


FOREWORD 

"Different strokes for different folks." It's concise and it rhymes and it's 
a clever little popular saying. But like many cute little homilies, there is 
more truth than poetry in the words. 

Each of us, even the most 'normal', has his idiosyncrasies, his secret 
fetishes, his hidden desire. And many of these secret desires are either 
directly or indirectly involved with sex. A special position in coitus may 
be overwhelmingly preferred by one individual. Another may prefer oral sex 
to coitus at all times. Anal intercourse may be a favorite, and homosexual 
relationships may be preferred to the exclusion of heterosexual affairs. 
Psychologist Krafft-Ebing's work of over a hundred years ago, Psychopathic 
Sexualis, catalogues a myriad of distinct sexual preferences which at the 
time were all considered to be sexual aberrations, departures from the norm 
in sex. Cunnilingus, a practice carried out by the majority of married men 
with their wives now, was categorized as a masochistic behavior; Fellatio 
was considered something that only prostitutes of low order would 
voluntarily do, and yet this practice is quite common today. Morals and 
mores have changed, as this illustrates, but so-called sexual aberrations 
persist. 

Today these aberrations are taken less seriously. The attitude toward the 
homosexual, either female or male, for instance, is to say, "Fine. Go ahead, 
as long as you do not debauch the innocent." And to the sodomist, it is 
said, "Put an ad in the underground press. You'll find a willing partner." 
Psychologists and psychiatrists simply do not have the time to treat the 
endless number of patients who are concerned about their special sexual 
preferences or inhibitions, at least not on an individual basis. And this, 
therefore, is a major reason for the existence of so many Group Therapy or 
Group Encounter classes. 

Here in the company of other individuals, whose very presence admits to the 
fact that they too have problems, the individual can fearlessly express his 
own hidden desires, and in so doing either banish those desires or, more 
commonly, learn to live with them happily. 

These Groups are for the most part formally arranged and presided over by a 
qualified psychologist or psychiatrist. Those forming the group are chosen 
largely on the basis of their secret desires, their inhibitions, the extent 
of their neuroses. The thing that the group members all have in common, 
however, is the fact that they have admitted that their .neuroses are 
troubling them and that they need help. 

But what of all the other people, perhaps not so troubled, but still 
troubled enough so that they are not completely happy? Typically, these 
people will go through a lifetime of semi-happiness, trying to cope with 
their neuroses by themselves. The lucky few will meet an individual or a 
group of individuals with neuroses that so perfectly complement his neurosis 
that the problems will be self-solving. 

This is the story of such a group of people. Each has his own 'hang-up', 
whether it be a sexual preference or an inhibition. The hang-up may be 
apparent to all in some cases, or so deeply rooted in the case of another 
that that individual does not even recognize it himself. And the story asks 
the question of the reader ... , What kind of a group would be necessary for 
the solution to your problem ... ? 

 Chapter One 

With his hand on her bare knee under the table, Ronnie leaned toward his 
wife and refilled her martini glass. He said, "Who can tell? It might be 
amusing to have your little niece from the country here for a while. She 
might be a good influence on your naughty little daughter." He exchanged a 
wink with Valerie, sitting on his other side at the little table on the 
terrace, and an inordinate thrill went through him when he felt the girl 
scratch at his ankle with her bare toes. 

Sylvia gazed critically through the icy, clear drink as she said, "My niece 
is almost eighteen, and that's not so little. It will not be amusing to have 
her here in New York, staying in this penthouse; it will be a chore. And I 
cannot for the life of me think of one earthly way in which a psalm-singing 
girl from the wilds of Indiana - could exert any influence at all over 
Valerie." 

Chilled by the coldness of her reply, Ronnie was taking his hand from her 
knee when she grasped it in hers and smiled languidly at him. At just the 
same moment, he felt his step-daughter's fingers scratching at his knee, and 
warmth immediately returned. In the past he had exchanged very warm looks 
with Valerie, as well as a few guilty and 'accidental' touches, but what she 
was doing now was very deliberate, and it injected a great deal of spice 
into an otherwise ordinary luncheon. His cock was thickening even as he 
stealthily reached down to twine his fingers with the little brunette, thus 
secretly holding hands with both mother and daughter simultaneously. 

"What makes you say I'm naughty?" Valerie asked, pouting prettily as she 
toyed with her young stepfather's hand and leg. "I don't get in trouble." 

"You just don't get caught, my dear," said her mother, as she parted her 
legs and drew Ronnie's hand up to feel of her silken inner thigh. "Ronnie's 
right. If you're anything at all like I was at your age, you're naughty." 

Sylvia Harley was thirty-six years old, and a strikingly good-looking woman. 
She had been married four times, and the first three of these marriages had 
been to men considerably older than herself. The first of these had given 
her Valerie when he was alive, and a considerable insurance settlement when 
he died. She had spent the money wisely, she thought, on cosmetic surgery 
and beauty treatments that had enabled her to find herself even wealthier 
husbands the next two times around. Now, with the first three in their 
graves, she had ample money and fantastic good looks plus the well-earned 
bonus of a handsome and vigorous husband, well bred in every way, and eight 
years her junior. 

She looked younger than he did, although his appearance was youthful. Her 
hair was a glossy, dark brown, and expertly waved by her beautician to give 
the appearance of being kept easily in place with just the touch of a comb. 
Her face was unlined, perfectly smooth, without a blemish on the fine, fair 
skin. She had naturally high cheekbones and a warm, sensuous mouth. The 
surgeon's hand, however, had straightened and uptilted her nose, had worked 
on her eyelids to make her lustrous green eyes appear wider and less hard, 
and had added a becoming dimple to her left cheek. A good dentist had capped 
her teeth, and her smile was dazzling when she chose to use it. Another 
surgeon had filled out her bustline to a bounteous thirty-eight by using 
silicone implants which were very expensive and had not altered the 
sensitivity of her breasts in any way. That same surgeon had taken just a 
little of the pads off her outer thighs, so that her long legs were as 
perfect as any film star's. Her ass, always the best part of her, had gone 
untouched. She had used her body well, had enhanced it through the years, 
and now she was enjoying it. With all that she had at the disposal of her 
twenty-eight-year-old husband of only two months, it might be surprising to 
find him interested in a twenty-year-old girl, but the interest was very 
definitely there, and so was the excitement. He looked at Sylvia while he 
talked, but it was the interplay with Valeria's teasing fingers that held 
all his interest. 

"What's her name? Mary Kilbourne?" 

Sylvia sipped her drink and drew his hand higher up her leg. "Yes. My sister 
Louise had the misfortune to fall in love with one Chad Kilbourne, the 
farmer, the preacher man, the devoted husband and father. Honestly, it made 
me ill at the time. She's better off now that she's dead, and he is too, but 
I do wish one of them had survived the accident to take care of their brat. 
Heaven knows, I don't want to." 

"It won't be for long, will it?" Valerie asked, very pleased with herself 
for hiding her excitement so well. She was horny for Ronnie and had been for 
weeks. Now she was hornier than ever, for she'd had a quarrel with her boy 
friend that morning just when things were getting hot and heavy between 
them, and now her little pussy was brimful of juice and swollen with desire. 

"I suppose we must keep her here for a few weeks, until she's eighteen. But 
then out she goes," said Sylvia. "My family obligation ends there. I've 
heard the farm was fairly large, and I'm sure she'll be well fixed once 
she's reached eighteen and can legally inherit it. I suppose it would have 
gone to me if only Mary had been in the car with her parents." 

"From what you've said about her old man," said Valerie, quite feverish with 
desire by then, "he would have left it to his church." 

Sylvia sniffed and finished her martini, and held the glass out for Ronnie 
to dutifully refill it. He took his hand from her knee to do it, for the 
grip of desire was by then too strong for him to release Valerie's little 
fingers. "When will she get here, dear?" he said, anything to keep the 
conversation going. If he worked it right, Sylvia would have enough gin and 
vermouth in her to put her to sleep, and then he could send the servants off 
on errands and see how far past hand-holding and footseying he could get 
with Valerie. 

"I don't know. It could be any time. That's her problem. Maybe her airplane 
will crash and she won't be my problem." 

Sarah came with the soup course, and Ronnie leaned back in his chair, for it 
wouldn't do to have the plump, middle-aged cook see him dallying with his 
wife and her daughter. One didn't do that sort of thing in front of the 
servants. Sylvia let his hand slip off her knee, but Valerie continued to 
grip his other one. He could have wrenched free of her, but the added 
element of danger further increased his excitement and he squeezed her 
fingers and located her knee with his. 

Sylvia pushed her soup bowl away. "I'm not at all hungry. How is your 
appetite, Ronnie?" she asked, turning that slow, radiant smile on him. 

He knew what that question meant. He was famished, both for food and for the 
girl on his right, but he smiled in return at his wife and said, "I'm more 
sleepy than hungry. Do you feel like taking a little nap?" 

"That sounds divine. Will you excuse us, Valerie? Have some of the lovely 
lunch Sarah has fixed and then go for a walk or something. Or have Robert 
over if you wish. But if you do have him over, don't play your damnable 
music too loud." 

Valerie let go of Ronnie's hand. "Robert won't be coming over. We had 
another fight," she petulantly said. 

"Well, don't sulk about it. If he doesn't suit you, get another one. There 
are plenty around. Coming, Ronnie?" 

He had to follow her, leaving Valerie with but a helpless shrug, which she 
replied to by thrusting out her lower lip in a poignantly appealing way. 

Sylvia, glass in hand, led the way through the nine room apartment without a 
backward glance at her husband and without an apology to the cook for having 
scorned her carefully made luncheon. She didn't have to look back to know 
that Ronnie was following along, for he knew what was good for him. 

Sylvia was dressed in a yellow house robe of softly clinging jersey which 
was buttoned down to the waist and whose long skirt flowed back past her 
legs as she walked to show the black lace panties" which covered her loins. 
She made no effort to cover this exposure as she passed Nelson, her 
chauffeur-butler, in the hall. She expected his quick, stealthy ogling and 
she got it, for he was a devoted girl-watcher, and even at her age she was a 
lot of girl. Into her bedroom she went, and automatically struck a 
provocative pose as she turned before the full length mirror, one curvaceous 
leg thrust forward through the folds on the robe, one hand on a hip. Her 
grinning husband closed the door and came to her. 

"So you're a little hungry," she said, turning her head to present her ear 
and throat for his lips, since the three old mouths of her past husbands had 
left her with a mild distaste for mouth to mouth kissing. 

"Always for you, darling," he said. "And I'm not just a little hungry." 

"Good," she said. "Now back off, sweet man, and take off your clothes." 

Posing and sipping, she watched him as he did it. He was a good-looking man, 
a proper mate for her in the physical sense, and now that her work in life 
was done, now that she'd made a success of herself, it was the physical 
aspect of life that mattered. He had blonde hair and it was curly, like a 
Greek god's. His very even features were reminiscent of ancient Greece too, 
though touched with a hint of weakness that she found attractive now that 
her first three aggressive and financially successful husbands were in the 
grave. Ronnie was neither aggressive nor financially successful, and she 
liked that in him. After having been given the best of schooling by his 
old-line family, he had frittered away his substantial inheritance in a 
series, of poorly conceived business ventures, each of which had been 
followed by an extended vacation abroad, so that now all he had left was his 
acquired culture and his superb body. He was the perfect escort and the 
perfect bed partner, and that was all she asked of him in exchange for the 
life of ease she was giving him. She hadn't even taken his name when they'd 
been married, even though Greaves had once been a respected one in New York 
society. That had offended him, but he'd said nothing about it. He was at 
least smart enough not to complain, and he did know it was his body she was 
after, not his name and the glories of his past family. He had a fringe of 
golden curls on his muscular chest and a denser thicket of the same at his 
loins. His arms and shoulders were powerful, but she'd trained him not to 
use that strength unless she specifically called for it. His waist was slim 
but very powerful and his buttocks stood out in back almost like a woman's, 
so tightly packed with muscle were they. These thrusting muscles she called 
on regularly, and he never failed to use them to her satisfaction, for 
although he knew little of matters of finance, he did know how to fuck. And 
he had the tool for it. Fully hard, as it was now, his prick was close to 
ten inches long, proportionately thick, proportionately fitted with a heavy 
sac of balls. He was uncircumcised, again like the ancient Greeks, and in 
those by-gone days he would have been worshiped by men and women alike, 
though now in modern times money and power hold sway over beauty in a man. 
On occasion, when she'd been very drunk, she'd become so fascinated by his 
big, beautiful prick that she'd sucked on it at great length, even though 
this too was an act which had been made distasteful to her by her- former, 
demanding husbands. But it was so beautiful that once she'd started she 
hadn't been able to stop for a long time. She'd sucked and chewed on it, 
heedless of his thrashings, gorging on the cock she'd bought with her money. 
The last time she'd gone too far, been too drunk, and it had resulted in an 
ejaculation in her mouth. She'd berated him for that, and it had cured her 
of the need for fellatio again for a long time Naked, he approached her 
again, and she saw that she had already excited him to the point where a 
drop of clear seminal fluid was oozing from the mouth of his big, upright 
prick. She excited him further by allowing him to nuzzle at her ear and rub 
his cock against her hip while he unbuttoned her robe. She ran her hand over 
it with a light, fluttering caress, and she enjoyed his eager pantings as he 
got his soft, well-trained hands inside the robe and onto her naked breasts. 
She turned her head to look in the mirror as he slipped the robe off her 
shoulders, and the view was every bit as thrilling as his touches. This was 
how things should be, with a gorgeous man attending worshipfully to the 
needs of an even more gorgeous woman. She made the scene even better by 
saying, "Get down on your knees to take off my panties, darling." 

He gladly did so. She ruffled his hair as he rolled them, then drew them 
down, pressing his warm lips to her smooth white flesh as he went. She 
twisted her hips and placed a finger on her left buttock when he had the 
panties down to her knees, and she said, "Do you think I'm putting on some 
weight here?" 

The downward course of the panties was at once forgotten, and he was kissing 
and fondling that perfectly formed mound of flesh, and ardently saying, 
"Your ass is just perfect. All of you is, and you never gain an ounce. 
Sylvia, you're the most beautiful woman in the world." 

"If that's an ass," she said, bumping it harder against his face, "it makes 
you an ass-kisser, doesn't it? And that's not a very nice thing for a man to 
be." 

"I'd be an ass-kisser for the rest of my life, with an ass like this to 
kiss. I want to be just that. Let me be that, Sylvia. I adore you so." 

"Mmm. But you'd rather kiss my pussy, wouldn't you?" 

"Yes. Oh, God, I can't get enough of that. Not ever!" 

Thus reminded of her mood, he quickly took her panties off, coming round on 
his knees before her as he did to cover her black-thatched loins with eager 
kisses. She finished her drink and enjoyed the combination of its cold heat 
and the liquid heat that was starting to flow in her pussy. She waited until 
she felt that first sweet tingle of tongue-against-clit before she ruffled 
his hair again and walked to the oversized bed. 

There was a mirror above it, and she arranged herself artfully on her back 
with her hair like a dark halo around her lovely face and her shapely limbs 
gracefully outspread. In the mirror she watched him follow on his knees, 
gazing hungrily at the juncture of her legs. As he neared the bed, she drew 
up one knee to give him more than just a glimpse of pink and ready flesh, 
and he dutifully ignored it, hard as that was, and began with his lips on 
her knee. 

Her breasts were perfect, just perfect. They were just large enough to be 
taken to her mouth, where she could savor the texture of her firm nipples 
with her tongue, but this was a practice Sylvia rarely did, for it stretched 
those lovely mounds just a bit too much, and she did not wish to break down 
their tissues just for the sake of a little added pleasure. She stroked and 
kneaded them lightly, though, while his kisses traveled in a zig-zag pattern 
up her legs, and as his mouth approached her loins, her hands toyed down her 
body, sampling it here and there, enjoying this languorous love-making more 
and more. 

Her hands were there to meet his mouth. Her red-tipped fingers splayed out 
and pulled back the delicately heavy lips of her vulva, presenting to him 
what was probably the most perfect cunt in the world. She had had cosmetic 
surgery here, too, for at an early age she had realized that a woman's cunt 
should be just as perfectly formed as her face. There were no flaccid 
tissues in her cunt, no loosely hanging lips, and with the sheath from her 
clitoris diminished by the scalpel, she too could enjoy the benefits of the 
plastic surgeon's art. Opened out as it was by her fingers, it was ten 
square inches of the most sensitive flesh of one of the world's most 
beautiful women, and her adoring and very fortunate husband paid that flesh 
its due. 

He began by smacking kisses over every bit of that ten square inches, 
seeking to set every nerve ending atingle, and succeeding at this. The 
loudness of his kisses was vulgar, but even Sylvia could enjoy vulgarity 
when she was firmly in charge of it. Then he licked her there all over, 
sliding his hands over her hips and under her buttocks as he did, and very 
obviously savoring the taste of her most feminine flesh. He rimmed his 
tongue about in the orifice of her vagina just a bit too quickly, and she 
mildly admonished him. 

"Slowly, dear. Are you in a rush for something?" 

"I've got all the time in the world, for you," he said, and she smiled as he 
started again, nibbling at her lips with his, kissing her cunt, licking it. 

A knock came at the door, but he didn't stop. She called out impatiently, 
"What is it?" 

"Mr. Nester on the phone," said Sarah. "He says it's important." 

Everything her attorney had to say was important, at least in his opinion. 
"Tell him I'm already involved in something more important than he's got in 
mind. Tell him to call me later." 

Sylvia quickly got back into the mood of things by using just one hand to 
spread her moistening cunt, and using the other to caress her breasts. She 
molded them with her fingers and plucked and tweaked at the dark coral 
nipples, and she scissored her legs and opened them wider for her young 
husband's cunt-lapping. The curly masculine head she saw in the mirror 
seemed to enhance her own loveliness, seemed to belong right where it 
between her beautiful legs. 

"Now show me how long your tongue is, Ronnie," she said, and she came very 
close to cumming when he quickly moved down and thrust several inches of 
warm, thick tongue up inside her vagina. 

For the second time that afternoon, he had moved too quickly, but being 
sympathetic with his vast eagerness to please her, she did not admonish him 
again. His slur pings were very loud now, as he dipped his tongue into her 
hole at an increasingly frenzied pace, quite beside himself hi his blind 
need to lick up and swallow all he could of her sweet, musky sex juices. At 
the same time he was bumping her clit with his nose and working his fingers 
into her haunches in such a way that she could have cum at any time. She 
held back, wanting to make it a big one when it happened. It was easy for 
her to hold back, just as it had always been easy to feign having an orgasm 
when she'd served her time as the eager young bride of those foolish old 
men. She could go on for hours like this, hovering right at the ragged edge 
of an orgasm, existing in a world of fuzzy pink ethereal beauty where the 
problems of parenthood, visiting relatives, her investment program were 
completely unreal. Only this was real, the hands wanting to possess her, the 
tongue trying to devour her, and the totality of pleasure that she so richly 
deserved there in her bed, high above the city and its masses. 

He was panting with the prolonged effort, but still as avid as ever to 
please her. She liked the feeling of his hot breath rushing through his 
nostrils to further sear her scalding tissues and she wanted to feel his 
tongue in her vagina longer, deeper. She mentally toyed with the idea of 
asking her doctor if cosmetic surgery could be used to lengthen his tongue, 
but she knew it was impossible. Furthermore, it was unnecessary, for his 
tongue was now more than good enough to bring her to orgasm, and .what more 
than orgasm could a woman ask? 

He was getting tired now, but more important, she was getting a little tired 
of holding back. "Suck on my clit now," she said, and took a handful of his 
curls to help guide his mouth up there. 

It felt ready to quite literally burst. He encircled it with his lips and 
sucked, greatly increasing that feeling of impending explosion, and gently 
laved the rigid little digit with his tongue. She let her orgasm begin to 
flow. She was even more beautiful in the mirror now, made so by the roseate 
glow of her complexion, the complexion of a woman who is being thoroughly 
loved. Sensing the bursting in her, Ronnie increased the swirlings of his 
tongue and waggled his head from side to side so that his lips burrowed 
deeper in the overflowing pink trench of her cunt. He was whipping her clit 
with his tongue now, and now as her orgasm burst forth in all its glory, she 
let him share in her good feelings. 

"Oh, yessss. Darling, that's wonderful. You're making me cum with your 
lovely kisses, and oh, it feels so deliciously good. You may suck just a 
little harder, luv. Yesss. You know what my pussy loves best, don't you. 
Dear sweet Ronnie, it's so good now that I can hardly stand it. Right now! 
Right now I am right at the peak, right up there in Heaven, luv. Ahhh. Yes. 
Yes, lick it all over now and let me down easy, easy. Mmmmm. Sweet man. Lick 
it all up, dear, it's all yours. And I'll still be all slippery and nice for 
you to slip your wonderful big cock in me. Ahhhhh. Ahhh." 

She relaxed, letting her feet slip off the edge of the bed, stretching 
lazily. He remained where he was, catching his breath, with his cheek laid 
against her inner thigh to wring the last few drops of pleasure from her 
orgasm with his warm breath on her very open vulva. Sylvia always liked to 
have at least one orgasm every day, and this had been the first of this day 
for she'd been too hung over that morning to start with sex before she got 
out of bed. Waiting until early afternoon had been trying on her, but now 
she was glad she'd waited, The long anticipation had made her orgasm that 
much better, and of course, the waiting had made Ronnie that much more eager 
to please her. Now he would want to fuck her, and although it would be most 
pleasant to have his cock in her, it would also ruin this mood of total, 
luxurious peace she was experiencing. She decided it would be better for 
both of them to wait until evening and start anew. 

She lay there, basking hi contentment, and when he began to move, she said, 
"Darling, I've worked up a terrible thirst. After you wash your face and 
brush your teeth, be a dear and make me another martini." 

"Sure, honey," he said, on his feet now, looking down at her hungrily, 
although his cock had for the moment deflated. As soon as he'd gone into the 
bathroom, she curled up on her side and went to sleep. 

Chapter Two 

Ronnie took his time in the bathroom, and when he emerged in his white satin 
robe, he saw that his wife was asleep, and he grinned. His tongue was sore 
to the root, for he'd given the old doll a work-out with it, and between 
that and the drinks she'd had this morning, it was safe to say she'd sleep 
for a couple of hours. Still, he wasn't taking any chances. 

Very quietly, he left the bedroom and went to the bar in the living room, 
where he meticulously began mixing Sylvia's cocktail. He could just see the 
top of Valeria's head. She was sitting in the big, glove leather chair, 
looking out at the smoggy city. She knew he was there behind her, but she 
didn't turn around. She sulking. She was good at that. 

"How was the lunch I missed, Val?" he said. 

"Probably better than the one you had," she answered, not turning. 

She almost surely knew he went down on her mother, but she probably didn't 
know how much. She certainly didn't know that he'd licked her mother's pussy 
so much in the past few months that he could scarcely stand the sight of it, 
although the sight of Valerie's sweet young pussy would be an entirely 
different matter. She wasn't dumb, and she wasn't innocent. He was sure 
she'd peeped at him and Sylvia during their love-making, and in fact he'd 
encouraged this by leaving the door slightly ajar on those occasions when he 
knew Sylvia was going to let him fuck her. At the time he'd told himself 
that he just wanted to give the kid a thrill, but now he knew it was because 
he wanted to seduce her, and there was nothing like seeing his magnificent 
body in action to break down a girl's reserves. Seducing her was a foolhardy 
and dangerous undertaking which might lead to his eviction from this 
sybaritic existence, but then again, what was life anyway without a few 
risks thrown in? Still, he must reduce those risks to a minimum. 

He called for Sarah, and when she came from the kitchen he said, "I have a 
craving for some of that good, hard Italian salami, the kind they carry at 
Buonicotti's on Tenth Street. Have Nelson run you down there and pick some 
up, will you? Do it now." 

"Yes, Mr. Greaves," she said. "Do you know if Mrs. Harley can call Mr. 
Nestor back? He sounded like it was awful important." 

"Mrs. Harley is resting now. That, and my salami, are more important than 
Mr. Nestor's telephone call. Will you go now?" 

"Yes sir," she said, and with a look of mild disgust on her moon face, she 
went back toward the kitchen, removing her apron. 

Half of Valerie's face appeared over the back of the chair. Her hazel eyes 
were wide with hope and with fear, and Ronnie winked at her and bore the 
drink on a silver tray to where he hoped his wife would still be sleeping. 

She was, and he smiled. He set the tray down and quietly went into the 
bathroom again. He slightly ruffled the hair he'd just combed to give it 
more of the bedroom look, and he slapped a little after-shave around his 
loins. He examined his face closely for blemishes, and finding none, he left 
the bathroom with confidence that the servants were by then gone from the 
penthouse. He took the cocktail with him. 

Valerie was still in the big chair. He took the tray to her and held it 
before her, saying, "Your mother is taking her afternoon nap, so you may as 
well drink this. Go on, Val. Take it. After all, you've got to live up to 
your reputation of being naughty." 

"Like mother, like daughter?" she said, her hazel eyes smoldering angrily 
beneath drooping, long-lashed lids. "Well, I don't want to be like her." 

"In some ways, she's not so bad. In fact, you'd be doing well to emulate her 
in some ways." 

She picked up the drink and sipped it, squirming about in the big chair, 
still looking up at him. He put the tray on the floor and sat down on the 
chair arm, smiling back at her. "Did Sarah and Nelson already leave?" 

"I guess so." She was dressed in a tie-dyed tank top and raggedly cut off 
jeans, both of which were quite tight. She could have been one of the many 
little teenyboppers he saw walking the summer sidewalks of New York, had it 
not been for the stemmed crystal glass in her hand and the eight-hundred 
dollar platinum watch on her wrist. 

"You guess so?" he said. "You don't know if we're alone or not?" As he said 
it, he shifted to allow his robe to slide open, exposing much of the golden 
fleeced leg she'd been scratching so recently, and he was gratified when her 
gaze involuntarily flickered down to it briefly. 

"I know she's still here." Valerie said, nodding her head in the direction 
of the bedroom. 

"And sleeping very soundly." 

He'd been feasting his eyes on that trim little figure beside him. She was 
half girl, half woman-and all appealing. She might never be the raving 
beauty her mother was, but she had highly stimulating aura of vitality about 
her that was not entirely due to her youth. She was still growing. Her knees 
were a bit too knobby and her calves and thighs too slim, but they looked 
very good to him, deeply tanned and able to stand up to hours of dancing to 
her kind of music. Her hips were slim and her waist was absolutely tiny, but 
the pubic bulge in those faded jeans was quite prominent and beckoning. He 
was almost sure she wasn't a virgin. Her breasts were small, nothing more 
than titties, but they were well-shaped already under that thin covering of 
brightly colored cotton knit, and they were unsupported by a bra, as he had 
seen through the large arm-hole in the flimsy little garment. He ached to 
see them, to see all of her naked, but he only glanced at her covered body 
and kept smiling at her face. It was a pretty one, heart-shaped, with a tiny 
little chin that was a bit too sharp, and a saucily upturned nose. Her eyes 
were every bit as good as her mother's and her mouth was even better, devoid 
of lipstick, glowing delicate pink against her tan, the lips delectably full 
and soft looking. Her dark brown hair had a slight curl to it so that it was 
very thick and full. It hung to well below her shoulders and fanned out from 
her head, making her face look smaller. She was a damned pretty girl, but 
perhaps the best thing about her just then was the way she kept nervously 
fidgeting beside him. That and the flush of desire that showed through her 
tan, and that fullness of lip and heaviness of eye that she could not 
conceal. His eye-feasting was producing the desired results. His cock was 
rising, and he helped it along by a casual shifting of it with his hand 
through the satin that covered it. She jumped when he touched her head. 
"What are you so nervous about?" 

"Who's nervous?" she said, gulping the potent drink now. 

"You are. Christ, at lunch you couldn't even keep your hands to yourself. 
What is it you're after, little girl?" 

"Nothing," she said, dropping her gaze to the growing bulge in his robe. 
"And don't call me a little girl." 

He was enjoying himself, enjoying the teasing immensely, but now, it was 
time to take a bolder step, one that would once and for all set the tone of 
their future relationship, with him firmly in the dominant role. "These are 
still pretty little," he said, and reached down and tweaked one of those 
little titties. 

She'd jumped when he'd touched her head, and now she almost vaulted out of 
the chair. But immediately she clasped his hand against her tittie and 
pressed her hot cheek against his arm, murmuring, "Oh, Ronnie. Oh, Ronnie!" 

"What's the matter, babe?" he smoothly said, enveloping all of that little 
breast in his hand and squeezing it harder than he was permitted to squeeze 
Sylvia's. "What's the matter? Aren't you getting enough from Robert?" 

"He's a creep compared to you. You're the one I want, but she's got you." 

"She doesn't have me now," he said, rolling her other breast in his hand, 
and marveling at the hardness of her nipples. They were so little they 
seemed to be all nipple, and he longed to lift her shirt and look at them, 
but he was easily able to play it his way with her, to play it cool for 
himself and hot for her. He chuckled and took his hand away and said, "Oh 
hell, even if you had me, honey, you wouldn't know what to do with me." 

"I would!" she said, flushed with indignation as well as lust now, and she 
placed a trembling hand on his bare knee. "I'm not as dumb as you think I 
am." 

"Has Robert been getting in your pants?" 

"Yea," she said, all defiance now. "And there've been others too." 

"So you've fucked a few boys. Big deal. But I'm not a boy. Val," he said, 
and frankly handled the pole that was forming that satin tent in his lap. He 
could see she wanted to touch it herself, but her fear prevailed over her 
lust. As she stared at that massive bulge, undecided now, he laughed and 
said, "Let's stop kidding ourselves. You're just a kid and I'm a man ... a 
big man. Hell, I'll bet you don't even have any hair yet." 

"Oh, yeah? I sure do," said she, and tossed off the rest of the strong 
drink. 

"Show me, baby. Show me that at least a part of you is grown," he said, and 
he took his hand from her tittie to flip open the top button of her jeans. 
She sat there for several seconds, panting, looking down at where he'd 
exposed an inch of her very flat tummy. Then she quickly jumped up, tearing 
the cut-offs open the rest of the way and wriggling her hips quickly from 
side to side as she pushed them down to mid-thigh. She was very white there 
from her bikini, and just as he'd known, the smooth bulge of her pube was 
covered with a layer of thin, black hair. It was so adolescently thin that 
it did not conceal the deep cleft that terminated abruptly in the plumpness 
there. 

Grinning crookedly, he beckoned her closer with his finger, his middle 
finger, held right at the level of her loins. She tried to slink forward but 
her movements were jerky now with her rising lust. It had a good, strong 
hold on her. With her shaking hands on her hips, she came at him until his 
thick finger was wriggling its way into that tight, wet little slit and her 
agile little tongue was pushing its way into his mouth. Holding onto his 
shoulders, she made little mewing sounds as he kissed her and delved about 
in that fresh young cunt. He kept it up until her nails were digging 
painfully into his arms and her mewings were very urgent, and then he pushed 
her away. 

"That's about enough, Val. We don't want to get in any trouble." 

"There won't be any trouble, d-darling. The servants are gone and Mother's 
asleep. Ronnie, we just can't stop now!" 

"You're right. There's one more thing I have to do. Stand right there." 

He got off the chair arm and squatted down before her, running his hands 
down the sides of her quivering body as he did. With his thumbs, he parted 
the cleft in her pube, and with his tongue, he tasted the hot creaminess of 
her cunt. "Oh! Oh!" she yipped, her hands shaking in his hair, her buttocks 
jerking and jumping under his hands. Sore as his tongue was, he still wanted 
to eat this fine little pussy to completion, for he was sure that his was 
the first tongue to ever touch it. He refrained, though, for that was not a 
part of his plan. 

She wilted against him when he rose, and he had to tilt her face up to kiss 
her again. She stiffened momentarily when his cunty tongue pushed into her 
mouth, and then the mewings began anew and she was clutching at his hips 
through the satin and grinding her lithe little body against the big hard 
thing between them. A minute or so of that, and he would have shot, for it 
had been a horny day so far. So he pushed her away, difficult as that was, 
and spoke soothingly to her. 

"Thanks, Val. That tasted awfully good. I hope that one taste of you will 
last me till you're a few years older." He turned as if to walk out on the 
terrace. 

She at last grabbed at his cock, and blurted, "Wait! I'm old enough now. Do 
it to me. You can't stop now!" 

He kept going. Behind him, he heard her curse and stumble. Looking back, he 
saw her hopping after him on one foot, trying to tug the jeans off as she 
came. He was lighting a cigarette at the parapet when she got to him, 
grabbing at him, trying to turn him around. "Ronnie, don't stop, don't turn 
off. I'm old enough now for you to do it." 

"To do what?" he said, looking out at the city. 

"To make love to me. Too ... to fuck me. Please, Ronnie!" 

That word almost melted him, but in the aftermath of his momentary weakness 
came a greater strength, a surer knowledge that the girl would be his, on 
his terms. 

Her efforts to turn him about had loosened the sash of his robe, and as he 
yielded to the pressures of her hands and turned around, he opened the robe 
to unveil his very large, very hard erection. She was so eager to throw 
herself into his arms that its contact with her bare belly was the first she 
knew of its nakedness. Then she clung to him with both arms about his neck, 
looking drunker than she was, and feeling the immensity of the throbbing 
organ she wanted inside her diminutive body. He pushed her away and together 
they looked down at it. It was visibly throbbing. 

"Honey, there's no way in the world I could get that into your pussy." 

"Yes, there is! Try! Women ... women stretch." 

"Not that much," he said, and crouching, he took his prick in hand and 
pointed it at her cunt. 

She tried to climb it in her eagerness, not even thinking about how much 
easier it would be if they laid down. Drunk on booze and lust, she was 
laughably clumsy in her frantic efforts to get up on it. He did not help her 
in this, but only rubbed the big knob of it around in her creamy wet little 
slit to further increase her frustrated lust. 

"It just won't work, baby. There's no way I can get this in your cunt." 

"I've got to have it in me. I've just got to! I don't care if it rips me. I 
love you. I love you, Ronnie, and I've got to have it in me!" 

"I'm not about to do anything to hurt you, Val," he said, rubbing his cock 
against her clit just hard enough to keep her frenzy going, but not hard 
enough to let her cum. 

"Please, darling! Please fuck me. Please put it in me. I don't care if you 
love me or not, I've just got to have it in me!" 

"I can't refuse you, dear. Take it like this. It's the only way," he said, 
and opening his mouth wide, he gave her a French kiss that he was sure she 
could feel right down to her bare toes. 

She was feeling it there, and elsewhere. Her pussy, very nearly impaled on 
that massive organ, tried to close up as she understood his words. Her 
brain, fogged by lust and liquor, suddenly cleared, as she realized he 
wanted her to suck his cock. For just a moment it was totally unthinkable to 
her, but then, so was this whole situation that she'd dreamed about so much. 
She could take his penis into her mouth, just as he'd Frenched her pussy. 
All she had to do was end the kiss and bob down and kiss it, and that simple 
act would bind them together forever as lovers. And between lovers, she had 
heard, there could be no sin. 

"Yes," she panted. "I want to kiss it." 

She would have gone down on him right then, but he held her too tightly, and 
between kisses he said, "Ever sucked a cock before? No, I don't think so. 
You'll like it, Val. Hells hot little bitch that you are, you'll just love 
it." 

"Just let me do it. Now, while I'm ready." Christ, she was getting more 
ready all the time! That great big thing that was him was still pressing up 
into her vulva, driving her mad with the need to move on it, to get it in 
her, and maybe if she got him as hot as he'd gotten her, he would put it in 
her cunt. 

"It'll make a woman out of you, Val. You won't be a girl anymore once you've 
sucked me off. Once you start swallowing my cum, your days as a girl are ... 
" 

"You want me to ... swallow it?" she asked, feeling suddenly sick. 

"Honey, I'm a man, not some boy who's content to spend all night necking and 
go home with hot rocks. And I love you too, in my way, and I want you to 
have all the best of things, and believe me, Val, my cumming will be the 
very best part of it when you go down on me. But if you don't want to, if 
you want to stop right now, just say the word." 

"Well, I ... " she stammered, and he was already letting her go, she was 
already losing him because of some silly inhibition against something he'd 
said was all good. Quickly, before she could think on it further, she 
dropped to her knees and took that great, thick thing in her mouth. 

Her mouth had gone very dry at the thought of it, but now she was salivating 
wildly at the weird and wonderfully sexy flavor of it. Her love had been 
right; it was a thrilling and marvelous thing to do. It wasn't just the 
taste of it, but the smell of it too, and the satiny texture of the big 
thing that was the essence of him. She still dreaded his ejaculation, even 
though she knew that that too would be good. She hastened it as best she 
could by adding a hand job to her mouth job, and she partially eased the 
burning in her twat by getting it against his shin bone and squeezing hard 
with her thighs. 

Ronnie smiled down on her. He patted her head with one hand and smoked his 
cigarette with the other, and he wished it was in his power to have Sylvia 
see this. The thought of his domineering wife witnessing this total 
domination of her daughter was so exciting that he almost lost control and 
came before he'd completely enjoyed the spectacle, and to ease his 
burgeoning lust, he looked out at the city, thus taking his mind from those 
erotic thoughts he'd been having. 

What a way to spend a June afternoon-naked on the fortieth floor, a rich and 
beautiful wife asleep in the other room, servants fetching him special food, 
and enjoying the comforts of a very ardent blow-job from a child. It was all 
too fine to prolong, and he flipped his cigarette away and made ready to 
ejaculate. 

"Baby, I'm gonna cum," he panted, taking her head in his hands. "You ready 
for it?" 

He pulled her mouth off his nearly bursting cock until she gulped, "Yes!" 
and then he slid it back on. 

"Really got a big load for you, Val, and is it ever gonna be good. You ready 
to swallow it all?" 

"Give it to me! Give it all to me!" she cried, fighting now to get her hot 
little mouth back on his cock. 

He let her suck it until it took all his strength to hold back, and then he 
pulled her head back again and gasped, "Here it comes! Get it all!" 

The first spurt of it hit her next to her nose, but she got her mouth on it 
again before the second one came. She was back to those mewing sounds again, 
but now they were even more urgent than before, and they were interrupted 
with audible gulpings as she strove to get every bit of it. She was going 
wild over his sperm, and whether it was because she really liked the taste 
of it or because of his powers of suggestion, he did not know. All he knew 
for sure was that he was having himself a helluva cum, and that she was 
digging hell out of it too. Clawing at his legs, almost chewing on his cock, 
she was grinding her snatch very hard against his leg, loving every second 
of it. To make it last, to eke all he could out of it, and to teach her a 
little more about what he liked, he grabbed her hand and thrust it against 
his hairy asshole, straightened one of his fingers and pushed it in. She was 
wriggling it nicely as the last, sighing drop of his sperm was sucked up and 
swallowed. He had to help her to her feet. 

"I told you you'd like it," he said, smiling down at her. 

"It was ... it was ... " 

"You missed some," he said, and with his finger, he wiped away the drool of 
white by her nose and thrust it into her mouth. Her eagerness in sucking it 
was wonderful. 

His finger was almost as thrilling as his prick had been in her mouth. It 
was reactivating all the nerve endings that had been so thoroughly 
stimulated by that other, bigger part of him. Sucking greedily at his 
finger, she could still feel his cock, though now it was softening, against 
her tummy. She was indeed a woman now, just as he'd said, and there was no 
fear at all about taking it in her cunt and cumming all the way, much harder 
than she'd cum against his leg, much harder than she'd ever cum in her life 
before. 

She swallowed a final time when he removed his finger, and panted, "Make it 
hard again. Fuck me now. Now that I'm a woman, fuck me, Ronnie!" 

He smiled and said, "No time for that. Sarah and Nelson are about due back." 

"Ronnie, please! Do I have to beg you!" 

He shook her a little. "Don't ever raise your voice at me," he said, and 
there was an ominous grimness behind his handsome smile. He swatted her on 
the ass and said, "Get back in that chair." 

She stepped right along, driven ahead by his lightly spanking hand. "Sit 
right on the edge of it and open up your legs. Hurry up, girl! We haven't 
got all day." 

In a daze, she did as he said. His cock, soft as it was, still looked too 
large for her cunt, no matter how far she opened herself. For an awful 
moment she was terribly disappointed when he crouched down and put his mouth 
against her there, but then the electrifying sensations of his lips around 
her clit, his tongue lashing it wildly, drove everything out of her but the 
need to cum, heavily, and go on cumming forever. 

"Urrrrrrrggggggggh," she groaned, robbed of the power of speech by his 
wonderful mouth and all it did to her. She couldn't even tell him she loved 
Mm, so great was her ecstasy. All she could do was groan and gurgle and 
thrash about, pounding at the chair arms with her fists and throwing her 
legs up and out even further as he made her cum, over and over, just as 
she'd always wanted to. She hardly heard the telephone. 

Ronnie answered it quickly, before the first ring had stopped, quickly 
before it might waken his sleeping wife. It was Nestor, the attorney again, 
and he tried to speak to him in a normal, cool voice as he kept on making 
his stepdaughter cum with his fingers. 

She was really a sight, cumming like that, jumping and jerking in the 
confines of the big chair, her pretty, young face looking old and evil as it 
twisted and grimaced with the great joy he was bringing her. Each flick of 
his fingers was reaching every part of her body. This chick really knew how 
to cum. He told Nestor again that Sylvia couldn't be disturbed at the 
moment, hung up the phone, and sucked hard on Valerie's clit until her 
orgasms became too much for her and she fell into sort of a swoon. 

He got up then and made himself his first drink of the day. He took it to 
the terrace to drink it, out where he could watch for the return of the 
servants. He felt very good, in part because of the very big cum he'd had, 
and in part because of the two females, mother and daughter, that he'd left 
behind in the apartment, both ravished to the point of exhaustion. 

When he saw the Rolls coming back to the garage, he went inside and awoke 
Valerie with a cunty, boozy kiss. He pulled up her skirt as he did, and he 
gazed down at the little pink nubbins of her titties, almost all nipple and 
exceedingly pink in the band of white left by her swim suit top. He felt 
desire stirring again, and he looked forward to fucking the hell out of her 
next time. 

Chapter Three 

It was at dusk on the same day, and Sylvia and Ronnie and Valerie were on 
the terrace, having a cocktail before dinner. All three of them were dressed 
for the theater. Sylvia had on a floor length gown of softly clinging white 
crepe which was split up the front to her knees and whose neckline plunged 
down nearly to her navel. High-heeled white pumps and a string of pearls 
about her neck completed her ensemble, and the elegant simplicity of her 
attire served to enhance her great physical beauty. Ronnie, in a dinner 
jacket, looked as if he could have stepped from the pages of a Playboy 
advertisement. Valerie was wearing red velvet hot pants over dark panty 
hose, knee-length leather boots, a cream-colored silk blouse with billowing 
sleeves, and an elaborately embroidered vest that had been made in India. 
Ronnie sat between mother and daughter as they sipped Daiquiris and 
conversed. 

"I'm glad you decided to go with us to the theater, Valerie," Sylvia said, 
"even though it wasn't at all easy to get another ticket so late in the day. 
Nelson had to chase all over town for it. And I'm glad to see you wearing 
something other than those awful rags you usually run around in. Can it be 
you're becoming a lady? My God, it's been bad enough being the mother of a 
child, I don't know how I'll handle being the mother of a lady." 

"You could say you're sisters," Ronnie said, smiling at his wife. 

"I've got to grow up some time, Mother," Valerie said, and tried to twine 
her fingers with Ronnie's. 

He quickly pulled his hand away. Sylvia couldn't see the secretive pass 
Valerie had made at him, but the servants might, and that would be very bad. 
It would be a trying evening. Love-sick, horny Valerie would be after him in 
a hundred little ways, and although her attentions would be sweetly 
exciting, they would also be terribly dangerous. His only hope of getting 
through it safely would be to see that Sylvia had plenty to-drink and that 
Valerie did not. Both their glasses were half empty. He refilled Sylvia's to 
the brim and put a few drops from the pitcher into Valerie's while they 
chatted, with Valerie making altogether too many cute little remarks about 
her evolution into a woman. He wondered if the danger was worth it, and then 
looking at the girl and recalling how easily she'd been led to blow him, he 
decided that it was. He was prepared to walk the tight rope between these 
two women, and he really didn't think he'd fall. If he did, there'd be 
another woman, perhaps not as beautiful as Sylvia, but more wealthy and less 
demanding. Either way, all he had to lose was a little time, and at 
twenty-eight years of age, he had plenty of that left to him. 

Nelson appeared at the terrace doors, still in his chauffeur's uniform. He 
was a big man of about thirty-five, with a thick build and a rough-hewn 
face. He had once been a boxer, and this plus his powerful physique had been 
factors in Sylvia's hiring him, since she had a normal New Yorker's fear of 
muggers and burglars and she felt comforted by having the bulk of him 
around. Now he had a puzzled look on his face as he made his announcement. 

"There is a Miss Mary Kilbourne calling. She says, Miss Sylvia, that she is 
... your niece?" 

"Oh, Christ," Sylvia said, and downed half her drink. "What a time for her 
to come. I suppose she'll want to have dinner with us. Nelson, tell Sarah to 
lay another place. But I'll be damned if I'll miss that play and I'll be 
double damned if I send Nelson off in search of another ticket. She'll just 
have to stay here and count her rosary beads, or whatever it is they do in 
her religion. Show her in, Nelson." 

None of them could quite believe their eyes when they saw her. She was of 
medium height and apparently of medium weight, though this was hard to tell, 
for on that very warm June evening, she was buttoned into a heavy black 
cloth coat. It came to her knees, and below it showed an inch of black skirt 
hem, while below this were heavy black stockings and much heavier black 
shoes. She was carrying a bulging shopping bag in her hand. On her head was 
a broad, flat, black hat. Her pale yellow hair was braided into thick plaits 
which disappeared up under the hat. Her face was very tanned, as were her 
hands. It was a very well-structured face, as the expert, Sylvia, could 
clearly see. The bones were classically formed, the lips nicely full, the 
skin taut, and the eyes a very clear blue behind the steel-rimmed 
spectacles. Take away the spectacles and add some make-up, and she could be 
a very lovely girl, almost as lovely as Sylvia's sister, Louise, who had 
borne her and who had been a beautiful girl herself before she'd thrown her 
life away in the great, and thoroughly boring mid-west. 

Perspiration beaded the girl's short upper lip and streamed down her 
temples, but she made no move to either take off the coat or set down the 
shopping bag. 

"Auntie Sylvia?" she said, looking back and forth from Sylvia to Valerie. 
"I'm Mary Kilbourne, your niece." 

"Hello, dear," Sylvia said, extending her hand and smiling up from her 
chair. "I am Sylvia, but let's drop the Auntie business, shall we? This is 
my husband Ronnie and my daughter Valerie. You look stifling. Take off your 
coat and sit down and have a drink with us. Terribly sorry about your 
parents, dear." 

"It was God's will," she said, leaning the bag against the chair facing 
them, and tugging at the buttons of her coat. "It was very good of you to 
take me in. I assure you I shall do my part here and more, and cause you no 
difficulty in the coming weeks until my eighteenth birthday. It's a great 
pleasure to meet all of you. Mother spoke of you often ... Sylvia." 

Bucolic as the girl was, Sylvia rather liked her. She was too stiff-backed 
and her language was too precise, but at least she wasn't a tobacco-chewing 
milkmaid in coveralls. It was a relief the way she had dispensed with the 
need to offer insincere condolences and a tribute to her that she was 
bearing up so well after the recent loss of both her parents. Sylvia saw 
that she greatly amused Valerie, and Ronnie as well. Her husband, usually 
ultra courteous, smiled and filled another glass, but he did not bother to 
rise and help her off with her coat. 

Mary sat primly on the edge of the chair, knees together, skirt pulled down 
over them, stemmed glass in her hand. She had left her hat on, as if she 
would be asked to leave at any moment. Her high-necked, long-sleeved dress 
fit her loosely, except where it was sticking to her sweating body. It was 
probably the most unattractive dress Sylvia had ever seen, undoubtedly 
home-made and dyed black for mourning. The girl plucked at the sweaty bodice 
nervously, and Sylvia could see that she had a very nice bustline under it. 
What she could see of her legs weren't bad either. Beauty ran in the family, 
at least to some degree. 

She wasn't difficult to talk to, and thankfully, she did not bring her 
religion into the conversation. When asked what airline she had come on, she 
surprised and amused them all by saying she'd come on a bus. The news that 
she had walked from Grand Central Station instead of taking a cab had 
brought on complete disbelief at first, especially from Valerie. 

"You walked? In this heat? I mean, you actually walked? That's over forty 
blocks." 

"Oh, I walk much farther than that every day," she said, leaning back in the 
chair now, relaxing a little. 

"That's why she wears such sensible shoes," Ronnie said with a wink. "Oh, 
she'll get along fine here in New York. Can I refill your glasses, ladies?" 

Mary had drained hers in just about one gulp and was eager for more. "This 
is delicious. I was dying for a glass of water, but this is ever so much 
better. I hope you have plenty." 

"Gallons of it," said Sylvia. "And plenty of dinner too. I hope you like 
Tournedos with Barnaise sauce." 

"They've always scared me. Even praying doesn't help me in that. I didn't 
know you had them in New York, though," she said, and amiably smiled when 
they all laughed. 

Sarah announced that dinner was served, and Sylvia got up and said, "Come 
along and we'll introduce you to New York tornados. And take off that hat, 
will you? It makes me uncomfortable just to look at it. Sorry you won't have 
time for a shower before dinner, but we're a little pressed for time." 

"I just knew you'd have a shower here, and T hardly wait to see how one 
feels," said the girl, taking off her hat as she stood up. The stiffness was 
gone from her now, and Sylvia was quite struck by the grace of her movements 
and the turn of her figure under the sack-like dress. 

"Oh, don't tell us you've never taken a shower," Valerie said. "You can't be 
that much of a hick." 

"I'm afraid I am," said Mary, turning toward her with an apologetic smile, 
and in turning, presenting her aunt with a profile view of her strikingly 
feminine shape and the thickest braid of golden hair she had ever seen. 

"Come, I'll show you to the bathroom," said Sylvia, and placed a hand on her 
back to guide her away from her bemused daughter. In reality she wanted to 
feel how wide the band of Mary's bra was, for it had to be a remarkably 
sophisticated garment to keep her full breasts so high on her chest. She was 
astounded to feel no bra band there at all. 

Mary was awed by the opulence of the bathroom, and Sylvia found herself 
somewhat awed by the natural beauty of the girl who was washing her tanned 
hands in the marble sink. When she removed her glasses to wash her face, the 
change in her was startling. Sylvia saw that this was a real beauty in her 
house, but she still couldn't quite believe it. Beauty such as hers simply 
didn't come naturally, especially under the harsh conditions of farm life, 
and Sylvia decided that the beauty she saw was only there in contrast to the 
frumpy clothes and spectacles she was wearing. Still, the natural grace was 
certainly there as Mary sauntered toward the dinner table. 

When Ronnie started to pour the wine, Mary quickly refused. "No, thank you. 
I never touch alcohol in any form. I'll just get myself another glass of 
that lemonade." 

It startled Valerie and Ronnie for a moment, then broke them up with 
laughter. Smiling foolishly, Mary blandly asked them what was funny, and now 
Sylvia saw that the girl was a little drunk and had no idea of her 
condition. She said, "Sit still, Mary. That's what the servants are for. 
Sarah, bring the pitcher of lemonade from the terrace for my niece." 

Mary was feeling extraordinarily good. It was, no doubt, the relief at 
having arrived safely after her long and frightening trip. She realized 
Valerie and Ronnie were having a little fun at her expense, but she didn't 
really care, as long as they were enjoying themselves half as much as she 
was. Her aunt was being just wonderful to her, and wasn't at all the wild, 
wicked woman her mother had hinted she might be. She explained what 
Tournedos were in a manner which covered up Mary's ignorance at such things, 
and she acted as a buffer for some of the jokes that the other two pointed 
at her. She helped her to more of the incredibly delicious food and she saw 
that she had a full glass of the tangy sweet lemonade at all times. She was 
a very nice woman, Mary decided, despite her city ways, and certainly a very 
beautiful one. All of them were beautiful, and so was the lavish apartment, 
and so was the big, fascinating city. 

Ronnie was surely the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life, and 
just looking at him made her blush and feel funny down below. Valerie was a 
devilishly pretty little pixie, younger than she in years, but vastly older 
in experience and sophistication, and Mary found it difficult to talk to 
her. She addressed most of her remarks to her aunt, who was probably the 
only woman in the world good looking enough to make a match for Ronnie. She 
admired her table manners and her warm voice and everything about her in 
addition to her beauty, and she almost wished she could be like her someday. 
At the moment, almost anything seemed possible, for she felt as if she were 
floating on a cloud in an unreal world where she had become a princess. 

The meal might have lasted a minute or an hour; in Mary's condition of 
glowing happiness she had no way of telling. All thoughts of her parents' 
death and the funeral were gone from her head, and nothing mattered at the 
moment beyond the unbelievably good dessert she was having so much 
difficulty in getting from her plate to her mouth. 

"She's really zonked, Mother," Valerie said. 

"Mary's doing just fine. She's just a little tired from her trip. But she's 
due for an early bedtime, and I think I'd best stay here and see that she's 
all right. You two go on to the theater without me." 

"Oh, I'm awright ... all right," Mary said. "I c'n fine my way to bed jus' 
fine, Auntie. Whoops. S'posed to call you Sylvia, Sylvia." 

"Darling, you should come with us," said Ronnie. "After all, you went to a 
lot of trouble to get three tickets." 

"Nelson went to all the trouble. Let him use the third ticket. I'll stay 
here and play hostess. You go on now. It's getting late. Don't give me any 
arguments." 

Mary started to protest again, but it was just too much trouble. She smiled 
her thanks at her aunt and tried to reach a stray dab of ice cream on her 
lip with her tongue, and Ronnie and Valerie rose from the table. It would be 
even nicer, Mary felt, with just the two of them there. They could get to 
know each other better. 

Nelson faced the front of the elevator riding down, and behind his back, 
Ronnie and Valerie squeezed each other's hands and felt each other's bodies 
as they spoke. 

"She's priceless. I didn't know such people existed." 

"She's not a bad-looking girl, if only she'd do something with herself." 

"She should learn a lot while she's here." 

"She'll probably stay drunk all the time on that 'lemonade' she likes so 
much. She'd have a hemorrhage if she knew it was loaded with rum." 

By the time they reached the ground floor, the bottom of Ronnie's jacket was 
concealing a terrific hard-on, and the crotch band of Valerie's panties was 
wet with her dew. They had a few minutes alone while Nelson went to get the 
Rolls. 

"Ronnie, you've got to think of a way to get rid of him. We've got to be 
alone together." 

He ran a finger up her spine, sending a hot chill through her. "I've already 
thought of a way, my pretty. You're going to feel faint in the theater, and 
I'm going to take you out for a walk." 

"And where can we go then?" 

"There are plenty of hotels around there. Think you'll like going to a hotel 
with me?" 

"I'd love going anywhere with you. I love you so." 

With his hands on her arms, he turned her to face him. Grinning, he said, 
"Valerie, we'll get a lot more out of our time together if we forget about 
the love bit and concentrate on having fun." He pressed his bulging loins 
against her palpitating tummy. "Find someone your age to fall in love with. 
With me, just have fun. I can teach you how." 

She wrinkled her nose and pressed back at him, saying, "Okay, teacher. 
Whatever you say. Just get me to that hotel room." 

The hotel was rather a shabby one, but it was the closest one to the 
theater. They had had no trouble in escaping from Nelson. Registering at the 
place as man and wife was an agonizing excitement for Ronnie, for he well 
knew the penalties for fornicating with a fifteen-year-old girl, not only 
those imposed by law, but also those which Sylvia might inflict. And Valerie 
was so excited that her knees were shaking and she had to hang onto his arm, 
admiring him anew for his calmness and feeling certain that at any moment 
the police would burst into the sleazy little lobby and haul them both away. 
The relief at having successfully registered was so great that she was dizzy 
and panting as he led her to the elevator. 

As ancient as it was, the place had a bellboy-operated elevator, a small, 
wizened man in a soiled uniform, whose sidelong appraisal of them in their 
fine clothes left no doubt that he knew the illicit nature of their visit 
there. "Anything I can get you?" he said. "A bottle or anything?" 

Ronnie took a twenty dollar bill from his money clip. "A bottle of chilled 
Champagne, French, and a package of rubbers. If you're quick about it, you 
keep the change." The bellboy smiled like a lizard. 

Valerie had not know rooms like that existed outside of movie sets. It was 
small and dingy, illuminated by a bare bulb, and what little was in it was 
soiled with age. Traffic sounds and neon's intruded from outside the 
tattered, fly-specked blinds, and the sagging bed looked as if it had been a 
workbench for a thousand whores. 

Ronnie took her narrow shoulders in his hands and said, "I should've taken 
you to a decent place. I should've been able to wait." 

"No! I-I like it here. I really do." 

"You do? Whatever for?" 

"For this," she said, tilting her pelvis up against that delicious hard 
warmth of his, and feeling sexier than she ever had before in her life. She 
went on tiptoe to kiss him, big and hot and juicy, and then said, "Let's 
undress." 

"Best wait till our messenger boy gets back." 

"Hell with him. He knows what we're here for anyway," she said, and pushing 
off from him, began to disrobe. 

From six feet away, they devoured each other with their eyes as they 
stripped off their clothes and draped them over rickety straight-backed 
chairs. First he was fascinated by the bright pink nubbins of her titties, 
then by her all but hairless little girl cunt, and by the time his big, hard 
organ was laid bare, she was flushed all over and breathing very fast as she 
stared at it. They came together to kiss by the side of the bed, 
open-mouthed, with tongues tangling, and she grape-vined a leg about his and 
tried to climb up his big body while he dug his fingers deep into the little 
mounds of her ass. Her body was seething everywhere with hot desire, and she 
simultaneously wanted his cock in her mouth, her cunt, her hand, everywhere. 

They heard the second knock at the door. 

Valerie was plastered against Ronnie's back as he opened the door a crack, 
grinding her loins against his ass. She could almost feel the gooseflesh 
raise on him, and then it broke out on her as she heard him whisper, 
"Nelson!" 

Chapter Four 

Sylvia and Mary remained at the table while Sarah cleared the dishes away 
and brought coffee and brandy. The coffee would do Mary some good, get her 
out of her state of stuffed lethargy without really covering her up, and the 
brandy would allow Sylvia's thought to roam more freely. With Ronnie and 
Valerie safely gone, she could speculate about the strange girl, question 
her, and muse about her own motives for wanting to be alone with her. 

It seemed impossible that such stupid innocence could exist, and unthinkable 
that it should be related by blood to her. But there it was, smiling sappily 
at her from across the table. Now that she was drunk and loosely relaxed, 
she was more beautiful than ever, and when Sylvia got her to take off her 
glasses, her great natural beauty further increased. It was awe-inspiring, 
and at the same time it was quite maddening to see such beauty being 
camouflaged, while Sylvia had worked so hard to bring her own beauty to the 
fore. It was also worth looking into. Sylvia had already learned that the 
farm from which Mary came was an organic one, and now she asked if Mary's 
diet had been organic all her life. 

"Yep. No 'secticides' allowed, only fertile eggs, live-stock all natural 
fed. Very healthy diet, but I never had a meal as good as this one." 

"I suppose I could get that sort of food from the health food stores here." 

"I s'pose. But it wouldn't be fresh. Gotta be fresh. Right off the farm." 

"I see. And how big is their farm? Your farm now." 

"Four thousand acres. Real big," she said, waving her arm expansively, and 
tightening the bodice over those high, full breasts. "Hate to go back there 
without my folks. Don't even know if I can," she said, and she sniffled and 
a great tear rolled down her smooth, tanned cheek. 

Sylvia went around the table and put her arms about her, again unable to 
feel any sign of a bra to hold up those incredible breasts. She said, 
"There, there, Mary. Nothing we can do about it now. It's God's will, 
remember? Come. Let's get you into the shower." 

"Stupid to cry," Mary said, unsteadily rising. "Take care of myself jus' 
fine now. Golly, I must smell like a sow." 

She smelled like new mown hay as Sylvia closely helped her along, saying as 
she went, "I'll take care of you for now, dear. You're in good hands now." 

The girl smiled hazily at her and leaned more heavily against her. Her body 
was remarkably supple and soft, yet rippling with smooth muscle, and Sylvia 
became more determined than ever to see it. While Mary gazed about at the 
marble and chrome master bathroom, Sylvia got her dress unbuttoned down the 
back to her waist. She was wearing some sort of a cambric shift under it. As 
she started to pull the dress off her smoothly rounded shoulders, Mary said, 
"What're you doin'? Stop!" 

Sylvia went right on. "Just helping you get out of these things and into the 
shower. You're so tired and full you can barely stand up." 

"I c'n do it. You shouldn't see me," she said, trying to simultaneously hold 
up the dress and conceal her homespun-covered breasts at the same time, and 
failing at both. 

"Nonsense. Don't give me any trouble," Sylvia sternly said. "After all, I'm 
your mother's sister, and she certainly helped you undress often enough." 

"No," she said, still struggling weakly. "Not since I was a little girl. 
Modesty is the soul of ... of something or other ... I forget. But 
y'shouldn't see me." 

Sylvia grabbed her and turned her to face her. Up close, with her dress 
halfway down and the upper swells of her breasts showing, she was even more 
beautiful. Still Sylvia remained stern as she said, "That may be well and 
good for back on that farm, but now you're in New York, in my house, and 
here we do things my way. So stop being such a perfect ass about, such a 
simple thing as taking off your clothes and taking a bath, and just be 
still." 

"Yes, maam," she meekly said, and her wide blue eyes blinked and she dropped 
her arms to her sides. 

Sylvia went around behind her again to pull the ugly dress down over the 
lovely curves of her hips. It was warm, but the girl was shivering slightly. 
Sylvia had often been undressed by a maid, but she'd never undressed another 
woman before, not even Valerie when she was young, for there had always been 
a governess for that. Now she hesitated not at all in getting on her knees 
and taking off those clod-hopper shoes and rolling the black stockings down 
over those sturdy but wonderfully curved calves. The hem of her niece's 
shift came to her knees, and Sylvia found that she was breathing a little 
hard as she gazed at the further curves that transformed the Spartan garment 
into something that was most alluring. Did she have a desire for this girl? 
Impossible, for she was anything but a Lesbian. She just wanted to see her, 
that was all. 

Sylvia got to her feet, and as she did, she grasped the hem of her niece's 
shift to lift it. The girl came to life and tried to push it down, gasping. 
Sylvia gripped her jaw hard in her hand and snapped, "Damn it, hold still 
and let me help you!" 

"You ... you don't have to curse," said Mary. "And I can undress myself." 

"This is my house and I'll do as I wish here! Christ sake, you've never even 
taken a shower before!" 

Again the girl became entirely submissive and docile. Perhaps there was some 
merit to a religious, rural upbringing. Sylvia raised the shift, but slowly. 
Through the lower lashes of her glowering eyes, she caught a glimpse of 
thighs that were like tapered columns of topaz, and silky golden loins. She 
lifted it higher, and paused when it was over Mary's eyes, for then she 
could gaze unobstructed at those breasts that had first fascinated her, and 
she shed any last disbelief that such gloriously shaped breasts could 
support themselves without the help of a man-made garment. 

Still, they were unbelievable. Full, heavy globes, with perfectly ripe 
undersides, tapering to blunt cones which were capped with generously sized 
areolas of rich coral pink that contrasted erotically well with the tan of 
the globes, and tipped with protuberant nipples that would fit exactly in a 
man's pursed lips. Mary began feebly struggling with the garment and Sylvia 
whipped it off her head, leaving the girl gloriously, beautifully naked. 

It was almost too much. Before she could be overcome, Sylvia slapped a 
nubile haunch and said, "Into the shower." But before Mary had taken two 
steps, Sylvia grabbed her thick golden braid and brought her up short, 
saying, "Wait. Let me get this undone before you get in there." 

Her fingers were inordinately clumsy in undoing the plait. Mary's bare 
backside stuck out too far, and she could feel its heat radiating through 
the front of her white crepe gown. The healthy, sweaty smell of her was 
almost intoxicating. Looking to the side, Sylvia could see them in profile, 
herself taller and more resplendent in heels and gown and coiffed hair, the 
girl from Indiana head down and nervously fidgeting, but just as lovely in 
the altogether. She billowed out the golden tresses when they were freed, 
and then touched that firm bottom again with a sharp little slap that 
propelled Mary into the shower. Sylvia felt as if she too had had too much 
to drink as she watched the shadowy tan form through the frosted glass of 
the shower door. 

"Miss Sylvia?" Sarah's voice called from afar. "Mr. Nestor is here to see 
you." 

"You tell him that when I want him, I'll call him," she replied, already 
unzipping her gown. "Tell him to go away." 

It took Sylvia far less time to undress than it had to dress, and then she 
was into the shower stall with the startled girl, only to confirm the beauty 
she had already seen. She went about it briskly, businesslike, as if it were 
normal for two New York females to share a shower together. She adjusted the 
water temperature and took the perfumed soap from Mary's hands, turned her 
around and felt as well as looked at the creamy smooth skin of her softly 
tapered back. When Mary tried to protest, she told her to shut up and soaped 
those exquisitely protuberant buttocks, delving deep in the crack of them 
with the lather and thus causing her niece to whimper and try to climb the 
walls of her splashy little prison. Sylvia's elegantly coiffed hairdo was 
already in a shambles, but she didn't notice it at all. 

Now that she'd seen all of that splendid young body, she was compelled to 
touch it. Her impulse was to use that bar of soap all over it, but her hands 
were shaking too much and she feared she might frighten the girl. So she 
stuck the bar of soap into Mary's hand and turned her back to have it 
washed, and to catch her breath. 

Light as Mary's touch was, it soothed away the tension that had built in 
Sylvia's shoulders. Without looking at her, she could think again. It was 
simply impossible that the farm girl could be that beautiful. If Sylvia had 
had that beauty at age eighteen, she'd have snared the Aga Khan. Apparently 
all Mary lacked was brains, or at least the knowledge of what she had going 
for her. She had no doubt that Mary was a virgin, and that the first man who 
got hold of her would very probably never let her go. It angered her a 
little that Mary had so much natural beauty, and that so much of her own had 
been paid for. The girl could so easily turn men on that it was ridiculous. 
She was even turning Sylvia on a little. She wondered if Mary knew it. 

Mary had never felt so strange in her life. It was the aftershock of her 
parents' death, she told herself, the trip, the exotic meal, this entirely 
strange scene here in this shower. She didn't know what it was, and she 
didn't know how to handle it. She just went on doing her aunt's bidding, 
washing that smooth white back, trying to define and fight the feelings in 
her. They were concentrated in her loins and breasts, and she felt as she 
sometimes did during recent shameful and confusing dreams. But this was 
real, or at least she thought it was. It would soon be over, she told 
herself. In a few minutes she'd be out of the big, hazy shower stall and 
securely wrapped in a towel, and from there it would only be a step to bed. 
She longed to be back on the farm, and yet at the same time she remained 
fascinated by all this luxury that was so new and wonderful to her. 

"That's fine," said her aunt, and turned and took the soap from her. 

She tried to tell her she could wash her face just fine by herself, but 
already Sylvia was lathering it up. Eyes tightly closed, new shivers went 
through her as the slick suds were worked into her neck and shoulders and 
arms. The soap was stinging her eyes, but then the sting was completely 
forgotten as she felt her aunt's hands laving her breasts with the heavy 
suds. She bit her lip and clenched her fists, for now the dreamy feelings 
were almost too strong. Perhaps it was a dream; she no longer knew. She did 
know that her nipples were hard as rocks, but far more sensitive than any 
rock, and it was getting even worse. 

She yelped when one of them was pinched, and had to fall back against the 
wall. Her aunt called her a sissy, and, began to wash her belly. It was a 
great relief at first, but then it seemed that her breasts were crying out 
for more of the luxurious washing and her loins were trying to shrink away 
from what was coming. 

Sylvia had her leaning back against the wall, drunk and helpless and very 
hot. She knew how a rapist felt at that time, or more accurately, how a 
child molester felt, and accordingly, she sought for more of those feelings. 
She rubbed the bar harder around the virgin's loins, then dug her soapy hand 
roughly between the thighs and slipped her middle finger through the 
writhing girl's slit. 

"Don't! Please!' Mary cried, and tried to push her away, for the strange 
feelings had suddenly become too intense to bear. 

"Goddamnit, Mary, be quiet," said Sylvia, and felt again to be sure of the 
very womanly size of the girl's clitoris. 

I can't stand this, Mary thought. Whatever is happening to my mind and body 
cannot be good, simply because it feels too good. I must stop it, but I 
don't know how! I can't stop her, for I am in her charge. Therefore, I must 
stop the good feelings in me ... if I can. 

She almost collapsed with relief when the finger was taken from her vulva. 
The squeezings of Sylvia's hands on her legs were electrifying, but she 
could stand anything after having stood the washing of her slit. Then up 
those hands came again, to touch her everywhere they had before, and to very 
sharply remind her of each of the wickedly good feelings she'd been 
introduced to during these last few very long minutes. 

"Let's rinse you off now," said her aunt, and shoved her back under the warm 
torrent. When she was able to open her eyes a little, there was Sylvia's 
face, inches before hers, devoid of make-up, grinning almost evilly, while 
her hands washed away the suds and made it harder than ever to fight down 
the hot feelings in her. 

When Sylvia got to her loins, she was even more vigorous with her finger, 
making it feel as if something was about to burst inside her. Again Mary 
pushed her away, sobbing now, saying, "Don't!" 

"I am going to shut you up once and for all while I wash you!" Sylvia 
snapped, and, lathering her hand, she slapped it against Mary's mouth. The 
taste was awful, but she didn't even dare try to spit it out, nor could she 
bring herself to again try to stop her aunt's finger from working back and 
forth in her vulva. Misery and ecstasy became so tightly intermingled that 
she was unable to fight either of them, and she passed into a sort of stupor 
wherein her will was not her own. 

The girl was red hot. With foam drooling from her lolling mouth, she 
reminded Sylvia of a mad dog, and she expertly rubbed her distended clit 
harder to increase the madness. Her niece was working with her now, albeit 
unknowingly, squirming her ass against the tile wall and clutching at her 
tanned hips with both hands. She'd never gotten a female hot before, and it 
was wild. Even wilder, it was getting her hot too. Her breasts were touching 
the girl's, and there was a very good tingle in her cunt, and her clit 
seemed to be stretching out of her labia. She used her finger more 
delicately, holding Mary right on the edge of an orgasm, and vividly 
recalling how orgasms had felt when she was eighteen. When it was just about 
to break, she took her hand from the girl's crotch and grabbed her by the 
chin, turning her face up to the water. 

It was incredibly sweet, that water, and after rinsing her mouth with it, 
Mary drank some down. She was all buttery soft and warm inside, in a state 
of euphoria where nothing at all mattered. Still it surprised her when 
Sylvia said, "Let's see if you got all the soap out," and kissed her on the 
mouth. 

"Mmm-mmmm," Mary murmured, and tried to shake her head, for she vaguely knew 
it wasn't right for two women to kiss like that. It isn't even tight to let 
a man put his tongue in your mouth, she thought. But then that finger was in 
her slit again, rubbing against her love bump, and the wonderful woman's 
silken smooth body was against hers and she was kissing her back in just the 
same way. 

Sylvia didn't have to see her to tell when she began to cum. The girl 
groaned deep in her throat and writhed more strongly against her, and her 
strong fingers dug into Sylvia's shoulders. She went on fingering and 
kissing her until it was nearing its peak, then bit Mary's tongue and turned 
away. She shut off the water and left the shower stall, hugely excited, with 
a curt command over her shoulder for Mary to follow. , Mary was acting 
drunker than ever while Sylvia rubbed her dry. Limp as a rag, grinning 
foolishly, even giggling, she allowed Sylvia to feel her and kiss her and 
pinch her anywhere she chose, still riding the crest of a sexual ecstasy 
that was quite unfamiliar to her. Sylvia felt all-powerful, and very 
lustful. 

"Come along," she said, taking the girl's hand, and led her in a shambling, 
groggy walk to the master bedroom. She sat her on the corner of the bed and 
spread her legs, revealing the deep pink depths of her very wet, very 
inflamed cunt, and it took only a touch on Mary's chest to make her fall 
back on her back on the bed. 

"Now hold your cunt open," Sylvia said, having a difficult time in not 
throwing herself atop that perfectly beautiful, totally helpless body. 

"M ... y cunt?" she blearily asked. 

"This?" said Sylvia, and stooping, jammed her finger in her niece's vagina 
as far as it would go, right up to the little membrane which the girl no 
doubt held as her most precious possession. 

"Gahhhh," she groaned, throwing her hips up at Sylvia's hand, stretching the 
taut labia as wide as they would go. 

"You like that, do you?" 

"Yes? Can't help it. I do?" 

"Do you ... want me to lick it?" Sylvia hardly knew what she was saying by 
then. 

"Anything? I don't care? Just make it feel like it did before." 

"Goddamned fucking innocent slut," Sylvia growled, twisting, jabbing 
viciously with her finger, relishing every wanton thrusting of the tawny 
gold body at her disposal. "No better than I am at all," she said, and 
shoving harder still, succeeded in rupturing the precious tissue with her 
fingernail. 

The girl screamed and tried to cover herself; Sylvia laughed out loud as she 
jabbed and ripped it all away. Blood appeared on those virginal loins, and 
with it came such feelings of mixed desire and compassion that now she did 
cover Mary's tormented body with hers, and begin fucking her in the fashion 
of a Lesbian, desperate to wash away the pain with just one complete, 
all-forgiving orgasm. 

It came for Mary almost at once. Almost at once the pain of her loss was 
gone and she was fucking wildly back at Sylvia. Breast to breast, mouth to 
mouth, cunt to cunt, the totally inexperienced girl was proving herself to 
be the demanding one now. She was raking Sylvia's back with her nails, 
spurring her on with her heels, and rubbing her clit just as hard as she 
could against Sylvia's. Cumming terrifically hard, she brought Sylvia right 
along with her, and for several intensely ecstatic minutes the pair of 
females gasped and thrust, shuddered and orgasmed, grinding their 
overflowing cunts together. 

Once, twice, three times-once Sylvia started cumming she feared she might 
never be able to stop, feared that the unbridled passions of this madly 
orgasming girl would infuse themselves so deeply in her that she would be 
the degraded one, the Lesbian. 

With a great effort of will, she wrenched away from the still-orgasming 
girl, lurched up on the bed, and threw her leg over the twisting, turning 
blonde head. She parted her heavy cunt-lips wide and mashed her sex down on 
the girl's mouth, commanding her to, "Lick it! Suck it!" 

With no hesitation, Mary did so. Sylvia smiled down at the body before her, 
the blood-smeared loins sundered, the perfect form debased and sweaty with 
lust. Yes, she still had the girl in her power, for what that was worth. She 
could still make her do whatever she wanted her to, and apparently like it. 

Apparently? God, the girl was loving it, quite literally eating it up. An 
orgasm rose anew in Sylvia, and with it a need for more. She plunged 
forward, not caring a whit that there was blood there, and gobbled and 
licked and sucked the virgin's cunt for all she was worth, pouring back 
every ounce of delirious pleasure that her niece was giving to her. 

Long after, when Mary was in the guest bed, dressed in one of Sylvia's 
negligees, her aunt held a glass of creme de menthe to her kiss-bruised lips 
and said, "Drink, dear. It'll make you sleep. Do as Auntie says, dear. 
Auntie knows what's best for you. That's the good girl. Sip it all down, and 
tomorrow morning you won't remember anything of what happened this evening." 

She sat there until Mary was asleep, smiling. Mary might not remember, but 
she certainly would. She went to have a drink and some thoughts before she 
went to bed, and hoped that Ronnie and Valerie wouldn't come home and 
interrupt her before then. 

Chapter Five 

"Nelson!" Valerie repeated, and squealing like a terrified mouse, scurried 
to hide behind her stepfather. She couldn't believe it; it had to be some 
kind of a bad joke Ronnie was trying to play on her, but he seemed almost as 
distraught as she was as he pushed against the open door. 

"Damn your impertinence! How dare you follow us! I'll have your job for 
this!" Ronnie cried. 

Nelson's soft laugh was unmistakable, as was his voice. "I couldn't have my 
employer and his little girl wandering around in a neighborhood like this 
all by themselves. You'd better let me in, Mr. Greaves. I don't want to 
cause any more commotion than we're already causing." 

"Make him go 'way, Ronnie!" Valerie urgently whispered, undecided whether to 
remain where she was or to make a dash for her clothing. "Fire him! Do 
something!" 

"What do you think I'm trying to do!" he hissed, and knocked the breath out 
of her with an elbow in her ribs. Doubled over, one hand at her loins and 
the other across her breasts, she had never felt so naked in her life. 

Ronnie spoke again with an attempt at reason sounding in his panicked voice. 
"All right, you've caught me. I'm in here with a prostitute, and there's a 
hundred dollars in it for you if you'll leave and forget all about it. Five 
hundred dollars." 

That awful, soft laugh again, and then, "Your wife wouldn't like you calling 
little Valerie a prostitute, Mr. Greaves. But then, she wouldn't like any of 
this. You'd better let me in now before I have to put this Champagne down 
and push my way in" 

"We have to do it!" he whispered to Valerie. "Quick, get dressed! Get in the 
bathroom!" And to Nelson, he said, "All right. Just a moment." 

"Now!" Nelson barked, and burst in through the door, sending Ronnie off 
balance. Valerie leapt and scampered about, trying to pick up clothes and 
cover herself with them, while the smiling Nelson quietly closed the door 
behind him. With clothes clutched before her, she felt even more naked under 
his gaze. 

He held out the bottle with a slow, sardonic bow, and said, "Would you like 
me to open this now, Mr. Greaves?" Valerie was backing toward the bathroom 
door, when he stopped her with a pointed finger and the slow words, "You 
stay right here, honey. I'm not going to hurt you." Smiling down at her, he 
began taking the lead foil off the neck of the bottle. 

Ronnie looked very pale. He sidled past Nelson, ; cupped hands over his 
deflated penis, saying in a shaking voice, "I suppose you're after blackmail 
money and I suppose you'll get it, but at least have the decency to turn 
around while we dress." 

"One thing I'm short of is decency," he said. "And I didn't say anything 
about you two getting dressed. Maybe we'll get around to talking about your 
blackmail money later, but right now, all I'm here for is to see what's 
going on ... " He looked very pointedly at Valerie. " ... and right now, I'm 
not seeing enough. Uncover, Valerie, or I leave now and go straight to your 
mother." 

POW! The explosion of the Champagne cork made Valerie yip and leap, and 
immediately Ronnie was at her, holding her by the shoulders and saying, "Let 
him look at you, damn it, and then maybe he'll go peaceably. Don't worry. I 
won't let him touch you." 

Nelson chuckled and said, "Yeah, I don't want to touch you, Valerie. Your 
stepfather might want to go to jail for statutory rape, but I don't." 

"A voyeur," Ronnie sneered. 

"And you're a child-fucker," Nelson sneered back. 

"I assure you," said Ronnie, "that we did not come here to ... " 

He stopped, for from the pocket of his jacket, Nelson had produced a small, 
red and white packet that even Valerie knew contained rubbers. He tossed 
them to Ronnie, who fumbled and then caught them, and then he said, "You two 
just go right ahead with what you were doing, just as if I wasn't here." He 
took a drink from the bottle, set it down on the rickety night stand, and 
sat down on the edge of a chair with his elbows resting on his knees. 

Ronnie embraced Valerie in shaking arms and whispered, "We'll have to do it, 
somehow. If we work at it, maybe we can ... forget he's here. Lie down on 
the bed. I'll try to shield your body with mine." 

"No!" she whispered back. "It's me he wants to see!" 

Defiantly then, she thrust away from Ronnie and cast aside the garments 
she'd snatched up. Fists on diminutive hips, she faced Nelson foursquare, 
pelvis tilted forward, holding nothing back. He grinned and pursed his lips 
in a soundless whistle, and as the gaze from his glinted gray eyes flickered 
up and down her tiny, naked body, a new sort of feeling came over her. Never 
before had she hated anyone, but now she did. It was not a blind hate she 
felt for the blandly smiling, eagerly waiting man, but one of utter scorn 
and disgust, and she could feel it tingling through every part of her body. 
She thought of several vile names to call him, but was breathing so hard 
with her hatred for him that she couldn't get them out. Finally, she 
extended her middle finger in his direction and viciously jabbed the air 
with it, then threw herself down on the creaking old bed. There she found 
her voice again. 

"Come on. Ronnie! Let's show this voyager what he wants to see and get the 
heck out of here." 

"The word is, voyeur, my dear," he replied. "And although you may be able to 
perform in front of an audience, the nature of my male anatomy is such that 
I cannot." 

With a sweep of his hand, he indicated his flaccid penis. Nelson chuckled, 
further increasing Valerie's hatred for him, and she reached out and grabbed 
Ronnie's wrist, saying, "You get here in bed with me, and I'll take care of 
that." 

"I'm afraid it's useless,'" said Ronnie, but he sat on the bed. 

"Give the little lady a chance," Nelson said, and she shot him a look of 
daggers. 

She fell on Ronnie's prick and began kissing it, and it was an entirely 
different trip now that it was so soft and pliable. She kissed his big balls 
feverishly and rubbed his organ against her cheek, and Ronnie tried to help 
her forget about Nelson's presence by pulling her around where he could kiss 
her loins as well. 

Sixty-nine. She'd never done that before, but she'd thought about it in the 
past, and it had always seemed like a tremendously sexy thing to do. Now she 
found that indeed it was. Her pussy was even more responsive to his kisses 
than before, and to her great delight, the taste of it was stimulating him 
to the point where his cock was stiffening. She sucked with increasing 
ardor, rapidly manipulating it in her hand at the same time, nostrils 
flaring with her panting eagerness to make Ronnie's dick completely hard and 
to be as aroused as she was getting. "Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!" she said, sucking 
and slurping beautifully responding piece of masculinity, already almost 
lost in her passion, and then Nelson brought her down. 

"Does it taste all that good, Valerie?" he asked with a chuckle, and she 
opened her eyes and glared at him. 

He was still in the chair, the grin on his broad, square jaw even wider. One 
hand was between his legs now, plucking and pushing at the crotch of his 
pants. He was a pervert, all right, getting his kicks from looking, not 
doing, and that made Valerie feel very superior to him, exultantly so. She 
closed her eyes and sucked Ronnie's cock with even more passion than she 
felt, as if it was the most delicious thing she'd ever known, and at the 
same time she squirmed and thrust her cunt up to his rapidly flicking tongue 
and made the sounds that an orgasming nymphomaniac might make. 

The act wasn't hard to put across, for now, this second time she was sucking 
Ronnie's cock, it was even better than the first. The taste, the smell of it 
was very good, and extremely stimulating. It got better as he got harder, as 
the boney gristle filled her mouth and throat and as the prelude to his cum 
started oozing out to set her taste buds drooling. His cunt-licking was 
better too. Apparently he'd held something back before, for now it felt as 
if she was orgasming all the time, and yet she knew she was in store for a 
really big explosion that would make that noisy old bed sound like a subway 
train soon. Still, she could hear Nelson's voice above the creaking, trying 
its best to ruin things for them. 

"Don't forget about the rubbers you sent the bellboy for, Ronnie. I'd like 
to see you fuck her as well as suck her." 

His suctioning mouth was taken from her badly needing pussy, and she tried 
to find it again with blind movements of her hips as she heard him say, 
"What are you, a frustrated porno movie Director?" 

"Maybe so. But I want to see you fuck her, and you want to do it. Put on a 
rubber, if you want, but fuck her." 

She took her mouth from his cock quickly, or she couldn't have taken it off 
at all, and she panted, "Baby, kiss my pussy some more, make me cum some 
more. I'll put the rubber on you." 

"So she knows how, eh?" said Nelson. "Her sweet old step dad has taught her 
a lot." 

"Honestly, Nelson," Ronnie started, "this is the first time we've ever ... " 

"Shut up and eat me!" Valerie cried, and succeeded in shoving his head back 
down between her open legs. 

The rubbers were there on the bed. She knew how to put one on, for she'd 
seen Robert do it, but now she didn't know if she could manage it or not, 
for she was so clumsy in her burgeoning sexual excitement that she had a 
devil of a time just opening the little cardboard box. Ronnie's cock kept 
interfering. All big and hard now, it kept diverting her attention and 
causing her to give it another lick, another suck to keep it that way. And 
Nelson, the bastard, was doing his best to interfere with his snide remarks. 

"That's an awful big cock for such a little girl. I'm going to have to see 
this to believe it. What's the matter, Valerie? Need some help getting the 
foil off that rubber?" 

"I don't need a damned thing," she said, "from you." 

She ripped at the foil with her nails, and at last it came open. She was 
really cumming now, with wave after wave of sheer pleasure racing through 
her body, regardless of the presence of the lewdly leering family servant. 
Pursing her wetted lips, she ran them all about the satiny head of Ronnie's 
hot cock and dipped her tongue tip into the big eye there to taste his spicy 
sweetness one more time, then strove to gather her wits about her for the 
necessary ordeal of getting the rubber on it. 

Ronnie was still licking her cunt, languorously, wonderfully, and now Nelson 
at last got up from the chair. She cringed, thinking he was going to lay his 
dirty hands on her, but instead, he went around to crouch down for a good 
look at her cunt, being licked by her stepfather. While he was there, she 
managed to roll the rubber down over the head of Ronnie's cock. The 
lividness of it was diffused by the thin white membrane. She sucked it 
again, and though it wasn't as good as when it was bare, it was still very 
exciting. When Nelson came grinning back, she acted as if it was as 
delightful as ever, and she looked up at him and said with her eyes, Don't 
you wish this was you, you sorry excuse for a man? 

The bulge in his pants was quite prominent by then, and he made no bones 
about helping to keep it that way with his hands. Valerie looked properly 
ecstatic as she went on kissing the rubber-covered head of Ronnie's bigger, 
better prick while she rolled the very tight rubber down its shaft. 

Nelson did touch her then. He poked her in the ribs with his finger, and 
said, "Let's see you climb the pole, Valerie." It set off a spasm of ecstasy 
in her that made her cum even harder, and for several thrilling seconds she 
was able only to churn her hips and thrash about and squeal and cum, cummmm, 
cuuuummmmmm. 

"Easy, baby," Ronnie said. "Take it easy." 

"I can't! Oh! Ohhh, God! I can't take it easy with you. Nnnnngggg! So good. 
Sucking, fucking, so goooodddd!" 

"Horny little wildcat, isn't she?" Nelson said, with that depraved chuckle 
of his. 

"Yes!" she gasped. "With Ronnie, only with Ronnie. With you, I'd just be 
yawning now. Fuck me, Ronnie. Let me climb your pole." 

He started to turn about on the bed, but she was already coming to meet him. 
With a strength borne of her great excitement, she pushed him down on his 
back and quickly straddled his waist, and there she tasted the sweet, foul 
sexiness of her cunt on his tongue. His prick was throbbing in the groove of 
her ass, and her little cunt was now on fire with its need to have it in 
her. She raised up on her knees and groped with Ronnie for the sturdy shaft, 
trying to jam it in her leaking hole as he tried to guide it there. 

"Get it in! Stick it in!" she gasped. 

"Easy, honey. Don't want to hurt you." 

"Damn it, stick it in me!" she cried. "That's what this queer wants to see, 
and that's what you've got to do!" 

"Well, don't try to break it in half!" said Ronnie, for now she was bearing 
down with almost her full weight on the knob of it to force it into the 
extremely tight portal of her vagina. 

She wanted to scream, not so much from the thickening pain of it, but from 
the terrible frustration of having it so near to being in her, and yet so 
far. Struggling and whining and panting, her long, dark hair flying, she 
rotated her hips and succeeded only in increasing the mad itching in her 
pussy. Sweat was streaming from her body in the close confines of the room, 
and even Nelson was trying to ease the insertion by calming her. 

"No hurry, Valerie. We've all got time." he said, and gave her a little pat 
on the ass. 

She half whirled about to slap at his hand, and as she did, her little body 
plunged down, and a full four inches of Ronnie's massive cock was imbedded 
in her little girl cunt. She was stretched right to the point of tearing, 
and it hurt, but still it felt good, better than anything she'd ever known 
in her life. "Nnng! Oh! Ah!" she cried, whirling this way and that as she 
had when Nelson had touched her ass, trying to get still more of it into 
her, orgasming deliriously from the tight but incomplete friction within 
her. Again it was Nelson who inadvertently helped her. 

Ronnie had been holding onto her ass with both hands, gritting his teeth in 
his efforts to keep from cumming. But Nelson's 'slimy hand was unmistakable 
as it joined Ronnie's for one little pinch of her left buttock. "Don't touch 
me!" she shrieked, and all at once, Ronnie's cock was in her to the hilt. 

It filled her so greatly that for a little while she was paralyzed with it. 
It was so long, so thick, that she thought she might never be able to move 
her legs again, let along close them. And then Ronnie arched slowly up off 
the bed, grinning up at her, letting her know he loved her, and the feelings 
were suddenly so strong that she realized she hadn't really been orgasming 
at all before. 

Valerie went wild with this peak. Gone completely was the paralysis, and she 
bobbed up and down like a monkey on a string, driving that lovely fat cock 
into her gushing pussy over and over, making the utterly thrilling orgasm go 
on and on, bursting and breaking into ever bigger delights. Ronnie's hands 
on her tits helped it along, pinching and pulling, and now even Nelson's 
dirty hands on her leaping ass were adding to it. 

"EEEEeeeeeek! Now! Morrrre!" she cried, twisting and jerking and thrusting 
against the great impalement, until Ronnie's orgasmic groans joined hers to 
tell her that the rubber was filling, swelling, and he was feeling as good 
as she, if that was at all possible. 

It seemed that it was, for her pleasure increased by just looking at his 
bliss-contorted face, feeling his straining body under hers. In the madness 
of climax, she saw Nelson's face at her shoulder, eyes wide with vicarious 
pleasure, mouth open and almost drooling, and even this was manifested by a 
final, even greater shudder of delight that tore through her pleasure 
wracked young body. It was too much. It ripped her, tore her, and left her 
to collapse against Ronnie's sweating chest, with Nelson's hand giving her a 
congratulatory pat on her fanny. 

As if from a great distance, Valerie heard Nelson's chuckle, and the 
somewhat strained words, "You two don't fool around when you fuck. How the 
hell do you take care of your wife, with a little tomato like this on your 
hands, Ronnie?" 

"We've never," he panted, "made it all the way before. But it won't be," he 
puffed, "the last time." 

"And it won't be the last time you'll have a little audience. You put on a 
good show, you two. You ought to try out in one of those cruddy places in 
Times Square." 

Nelson shrugged, and Ronnie sighed and said, "Now, Val. No need in provoking 
him. After all, he's ... " He sighed again. " ... he's sort of got us in his 
power." 

"He hasn't got me in his power," she angrily said, and wrenched herself off 
her stepfather. His prick, softened, covered with the messily filled rubber, 
now looked far from being as attractive as it had. "He hasn't got me in his 
power at all. I don't care if he tells Mother. I'll just run away. That's 
all." 

"Don't talk foolishly," Ronnie said, sitting up and taking her by the 
shoulders, "If you won't think of yourself, think of me. If you love me at 
all think of me, and ... and do as he says. All he wants is money, and the 
chance to ... to watch us again. He doesn't want to do anything to you but 
look at you. You know that." 

"I don't know anything of the kind. For all I know, if you left the room 
now, he'd want to fuck me. And that'd make me sick." 

Nelson said, "Listen to Ronnie, Val. He's right. I'm a looker, that's about 
all. Oh, I'll probably throw the old blocks to Sarah tonight, 'cause you 
turned me on so much. But I'd never lay a hand on you." 

"What do you mean? You already did!" 

"I meant, not with the intention of ... of doing anything to you." 

"Bullshit! If Ronnie left now, you'd be all over me." 

"I wouldn't." 

"You would too!" 

"Well, it makes no difference," Ronnie said. "Because I'm not leaving you 
alone with him." 

The young girl with the leaking pussy scowled" back and forth at the two 
men, hating them almost equally just then. She picked up the Champagne 
bottle and guzzled thirstily from its neck, set it down, and said, "You are 
leaving, Ronnie. You're going outside that door and you're going to be quiet 
until I call for you, and I'll guarantee you that inside of five minutes 
this dirty old man will be begging me to let him fuck me." 

"Oh, nonsense," said Nelson, looking acutely embarrassed now. 

"Don't be silly," Ronnie. "I wouldn't leave you alone with him. Not with 
anybody, for that matter." 

"The heck if you won't!" she said, getting up on her knees on the bed, 
defiantly placing her fists on her hips. "I've got something to prove, and 
I'm going to prove it. Get dressed and get out of here or ... or I'll tell 
Mother about this myself!" 

They both tried to argue with her, but she would not be argued with. To each 
of their impassioned, logical pleas, she countered with the same threat and 
another swill from the bottle. She sat on the bed with crossed arms and 
legs, completely adamant, until the two men, each more than a dozen years 
her senior, shrugged helplessly at each other and Ronnie sighed and got up. 

Valerie started her campaign to prove Nelson's true desires while Ronnie was 
in the bathroom, washing up. She smirked confidently and winked at him, and 
he responded with the running of his forefinger under the starched collar of 
his shirt, and with a longing glance at the bathroom door. 

"What's the matter, Nelson. Is it him that you like, and not me? Or should I 
call you Nellie?" 

"Hey, now. I might be a lot of things, but I'm no fag." 

She lighted on this like a locust on a June bug, flaunting her small but 
very discernible charms, and saying, "You can tell me if you are. After all, 
you know my secret. I like to fuck and suck. If you like men, you can tell 
me." 

"Well, I don't, damn it," he gruffly said. "I just like to look. I like to 
fuck too, but ... well ... I have to look at somebody else before I can ... 
Shit, why am I explaining anything to you!" 

He got up, paced toward the door, paced back, hands in his pockets, bulge 
apparently gone from his pants. She sat on the bed, looking very 
self-satisfied. When Ronnie came out of the bathroom, splendidly dressed 
again, but looking most uneasy, Nelson said, "Listen, I'm not about to go 
through with this. We're all leaving. That girl is crazy, and I'm not about 
to stay here with her, even if you are outside in the hall. Forget about the 
blackmail, forget about my talking to your old lady. Just let's get the hell 
out of here." 

The smile on Ronnie's face faded as Valerie calmly said, "But don't forget 
about me talking to her about all this. If I have to, Nelson, you'll be out 
of a job, and without any sort of references at all for future employment. 
You might have us in your power on some things, but I have you in my power 
on that one." 

"Don't play the headstrong child, Val!" Ronnie admonished. 

"I'm no child," she said with a crooked grin. "I just proved that." 

They argued with her anew, but now she just sat there, calm as could be, 
firmly and placidly in command of the situation. At length Ronnie slammed 
out of the dingy room, leaving her alone with the man who claimed to want 
nothing of her but to look at her. 

And when she was alone with him, the excitement she had anticipated was 
gone, strangely replaced by an uncomfortable feeling of not knowing how to 
go about proving her point, and the speculation that that point had never 
been worth proving to begin with. Still, she'd come this far, and had to 
carry it to a conclusion. 

"You do like me, don't you, Nellie," she said, straightening her shoulders, 
thrusting out her inadequately sized breasts at him. "I mean, more than just 
to look at." 

He sat down in his chair again, and growled, "You're a pretty girl. But 
you're not worth going to jail over." 

"Ronnie thinks so," she said, stretching out a leg, giving him the chance to 
look at her little pussy, sated perhaps, but still ready for more. 

"Well, I don't." 

"Are you a queer?" she mildly asked, getting her feet on the floor. 

"No!" 

"Never sucked a cock in your life?" 

"Hell, no!" he declared, but she thought from the vehemence of his answer 
that he was lying. 

"You ought to try it," she said, looking at his crotch from the corner of 
her eye for a bulge. "It's a gas. I just love to suck a nice, juicy cock. 
I'd probably even like to suck yours, but I'd really rather have you fuck 
me." 

"Well, I'd really rather we got the hell out of here," he bluntly averred. 

Smiling and shaking her pretty head, she got to her feet and stretched, as 
if she'd just awakened refreshed from a nap. She took a slow step toward 
him, saying, "Like you said, we're in no hurry. What'll it be? Fuck or 
suck?" 

"Honest to God," he said, going pale, backing up. "I didn't have anything 
like this in mind when I followed you out of the theater." 

"That was a long time ago," she said, still advancing on the much bigger, 
much older, and much more flustered individual. "But what've you got in mind 
now? Fuck, or suck?" 

"Miss Valerie! Please!" he said, backed to the wall by her steady advance, 
then letting out a muffled moan of protest as she reached down tier hand and 
groped at the front of his pants. 

He tried to dodge away from her. The cloth covered thing in her hand was 
small, but it was excitingly hard. She wouldn't be eluded, but took a stand 
before him, his sex in her hand, and then with a triumphant cry, she dropped 
to her knees and tore at his uniform trousers. Raising his fists to his 
forehead, moaning, "No. No," he moaned, but he stayed there against the wall 
until she had his cock free of his pants and in her mouth. 

God, it was indeed small! Smaller than Robert's, and in comparison to 
Ronnie's big sausage, just a little hot dog, but nevertheless hard, and as 
such, quite satisfying. 

She sucked it expertly, and she derived a shivery thrill of further triumph 
when his moan changed to one of pleasure and his big hands came to tremble 
at the sides of her head. She had proved her point: he had wanted more of 
her than just to look at her. Still, it was a purely mechanical act, born in 
anger and carried out in spite. Until, that is, her suckings brought forth a 
strangled cry from him and she tasted his cum, hot and rich, spurting into 
her little mouth. And at that moment she heard the door burst open and heard 
her stepfather's voice say, "What the hell? What the bloody hell are you 
making her do, Nelson!" 

At that moment, in that instant, it all changed, and her act of imposed 
fellatio became so suddenly exciting, so instantaneously thrilling that a 
weird sort of untouched orgasm burst in her that added yet another new 
dimension of sexual experience to her growing repertoire. 

Chapter Six 

For a change, Sylvia woke up early, and as soon as she did she recalled each 
shameful detail of the Lesbian experience she'd gone through the night 
before with her niece. How could she possibly have done those things? How in 
the name of God had Mary seduced her into such perversions? She still had 
the nasty, foul taste of hot pussy on her tongue, as well .as a weird sort 
of crawly excitement in her cunt that she didn't like at all. She had to get 
rid of it, and even more important, she had to get rid of that phony little 
angel that was her niece. Let the homosexual slut fend for herself until her 
inheritance came through, for Sylvia wanted no part of a girl with 
tendencies like those. 

Ronnie was softly snoring beside her, and looking at him, she felt even more 
unclean. She laid her hand on his very masculine body, and shuddered at the 
recollection of how that hand had somehow been led to caress Mary's body. 
That was unbelievable, but Ronnie's body was very real, and very close. She 
slid her hand farther under the covers and found to her great delight that, 
as usual, he had a nice big early morning erection. Without further ado, she 
threw back the covers and began sucking him off. It was not something she 
often did, and never when she was sober, but now the taste and feel of a 
cock in her mouth was absolutely delicious. It was purging and purifying her 
and making the good feelings in her cunt all right and good, and she was 
hugely grateful for the presence of her naked young husband. 

Ronnie was dreaming that Valerie was blowing him, and it was a good dream. 
He smiled in his light sleep and could even feel her head with his hand, so 
real was the erotic dream. They were all alone in a big, luxurious bed, with 
Sylvia gone to Europe and no one to disturb them, and the way Valerie was 
going at it, she'd probably never stop. 

He opened his eyes, and thrilled to the fact that the dream was real, then 
tingled with hot delight when he saw in the ceiling mirror that it was his 
wife sucking him off. 

"Oh, baby, what a way to wake up," he said, stroking her head. 

"Mm-hmmm," she said, nodding her head, and in truth, doing a better job with 
her mouth than her daughter was yet capable of. 

But it wouldn't be long, the way Valerie was going, before she was an expert 
cocksucker. He had been so thoroughly shocked when he'd entered that hotel 
room the night before, in answer to what he'd thought was Valerie's cry of 
distress, only to find her busily sucking off Nelson. He still didn't know 
who to believe. Nelson had at first said she'd forced her attentions on him, 
but then he'd more or less gone along with Valerie's insistent story that 
he'd coerced her into it. It really didn't matter, though. Actually, it was 
best for him if Valerie was making it with someone else he knew about, for 
then his conscience was entirely clear when it came to making out with her. 
But nothing mattered right now except this blow-job. 

Grinning, the thought occurred to him that it was either feast or famine 
when it came to sex. Now that he'd succeeded in getting into Valerie's hot 
little pants, her mother was coming through with more sex, but somehow he'd 
manage to take care of both of them. 

He wanted to just lie back and enjoy Sylvia's fine tongue-swirling 
techniques, but thought better of it. If he didn't reciprocate, Sylvia 
wouldn't like it a bit, and it would be a long time before she sucked him 
off again. He ran his hand over the backs of her thighs, drew his finger 
through the wet slit that creased the plumpness that bulged back from 
between them. She was on her knees to suck him, and he tried to pull her 
toward him and help her get her leg over his head so that he could have a 
taste of her before breakfast. She was very juicy. 

"Let me eat you too, honey," he said. "Open up." 

Her lips smacked loudly off the end of .his very hard cock, and she panted, 
"No. I want you to fuck me, not eat me. Hurry, darling, I'm so ready." 

She spread out on her back, helping him atop her, so very lovely and willing 
this morning. Christ, if she was like that all the time, he'd have no need 
for Valerie; He slipped his spit-wet meat into her luscious cunt with ease, 
and right away she was cumming pretty good, writhing and thrusting back at 
him, clutching at his shoulders and making open-throated moans of bliss that 
were very infectious. When she wanted to, she could really fuck, and for 
some reason this fine morning, she really wanted to fuck. He obliged, 
keeping pace with her until they grunted and groaned to a mutual climax that 
left them both smiling and sighing. 

Sylvia felt good. She felt better than usual after a good orgasm, for 
Ronnie's big cock had cleansed her of any taint of Lesbianism brought on by 
her niece. He was still very deep inside her, milking additional orgasmic 
tinglings from her with his lips and hands, when the phone rang by the side 
of the bed. The light on the instrument went on, indicating that one of the 
servants had answered it. Then a few seconds later the light flashed to show 
that the call was for Sylvia. 

"Let it go," Ronnie said, enjoying the sweet warmth of her. 

"I'd better answer it. Marty Nestor's been trying to reach me. Just hand it 
to me dear." 

It was her attorney and financial advisor, and she spoke to him without 
breaking the flesh to flesh connection with Ronnie. 

"Where in the world have you been, Sylvia? I've been trying frantically to 
reach you." 

"I've been busy. What's on your mind?" 

"Your affairs, your investments, as always. I've got some very serious news 
for you, Sylvia." 

Her pussy seemed to close, and Ronnie's cock suddenly felt most 
uncomfortable in it. She pushed his hand from her breast and said, "What is 
it?" 

"It's that two-hundred acres you placed an option on in Connecticut. They 
want you to exercise the option now or they're going to sell it to someone 
else. General Electric just bought the land next to it and the value of 
property all over there is going sky high." 

"That's wonderful!" she said, and squeezed Ronnie's cock with her pussy. 

"No, it's not. You haven't got the cash to put into it." 

"Well, sell some of my stock." 

"At these depressed prices? You'd take a helluva beating, Sylvia. As it is, 
you've got thirty days to come up with three hundred thousand dollars, or 
else you'll miss out on something like half a million dollars profit on that 
land. Have you got the cash?" 

"You know I don't," she said, irritably pushing Ronnie off her now, greatly 
vexed. 

"Then I'd better sell some stock and ... " 

"No! There must be another way. Let me think." She snapped her fingers and 
pointed at her cigarettes, and Ronnie lit one for her. Exhaling a deep 
lungful, she said, "Leave the room, Ronnie." When he was gone, she said, 
"How much is Indiana farmland worth?" 

"I don't know. If it's good band, probably around a thousand an acre. Why?" 

"So I could probably get a loan of at least three hundred thousand on four 
thousand acres, if I had control of it." 

"Easily. But since when did you have land in Indiana?" 

"I don't, yet. But I will. Tell them I'll be picking up the option .-And 
send me a Power of Attorney form. I'll talk to you later." 

As she finished her cigarette, she formulated a plan. Mary was already 
physically in her power, and with the help of Ronnie she could be 
emotionally in her control as well. Between them, they could get her to sign 
that paper, and Ronnie would unquestioningly do as she told him. She called 
him back in the room. 

"How would you like to make love to Mary?" 

"What? You must be joking. I wouldn't like it at all." 

"I'm not joking, and you would like it. And, my dear, I want you to do it." 

"Oh, come on, Sylvia. Cut it out." 

"I'm serious, Ronnie. It means a lot to me. I want you to make love to her. 
She's a good-looking girl, without her funny farm clothes, and it wouldn't 
be unpleasant work." 

"I suppose I'd do it if there was a reason, but I certainly wouldn't Mice 
it. What's it all about, anyway?" 

"I'll tell you when there's a need for you to know. But now, right now, I 
want you to go to the guest room and make love to her." 

"All the way?" 

"In every way. Force her if you have to, but do it. Now." 

Mary awoke late, headachy and stiff. She had no idea where she was, for a 
while, nor how she had gotten into the shockingly thin nightgown. The big 
bed, the frilly bedroom, all of her surroundings seemed as unreal as the 
awful dreams she'd had. She was sure she was coming down with the flu, for 
her forehead felt hot and dry and the taste in her mouth was dreadful. Even 
her loins were tender. She felt of herself under the covers, and the 
familiar touch of her private parts wasn't quite there. Her labia were 
swollen as well as tender, and she was more than a little wet there. 

She blushed, knowing that she'd scratched at herself there during the course 
of those terrible dreams she'd had about herself and her aunt, doing 
unbelievably disgusting things together. The sickness that was in her body 
was unlike any she'd ever known, and she began to silently pray for 
deliverance from it, since she could certainly never describe its symptoms 
to any doctor. With her hands tightly clenched on top of the covers, she 
fervently asked for God's help in removing the demons from her body and in 
quelling the irritating little itch between her legs. 

The door opened, and she drew the covers up about her neck as she gazed 
wide-eyed at her Uncle Ronnie, smiling at her as he closed the door behind 
him. He had a tray in his hand and she tried not to look below that, for all 
he had on, apparently, was a satin bathrobe that came down to his knees, and 
she'd never even seen a man's bare calves before, not even her father's. 

"Sleep well?" he said, and she drew the covers up to her chin as he advanced 
toward the bed. "I brought you a little breakfast." 

"I'm not hungry," she said in a thin, squeaky voice. Indeed, she was hungry, 
but she had to get him out. of there. A nice girl just didn't have a man in 
her bedroom, not even her uncle, and with that handsome young smile, he 
didn't seem at all like a relative just then. He had to leave, at once. 

But he set the tray on the night stand and sat right down on her bed, and to 
add immensely to her embarrassed consternation, placed his hand on her knee. 
She could feel the warmth of it clear through the covers, and much as she 
wanted to, she couldn't squirm away from it because his grip was strong. He 
squeezed it, sending an electric shock up through her, and altered her blush 
from pink to scarlet by saying, "You're looking awfully pretty this morning, 
Mary." 

"You'd better go, please. I've got to get up. Where are my things? Where are 
my glasses?" she said, agonized with embarrassment, and scared half to death 
now, for what would her aunt think if she came in and found him there? 

"Have some tomato juice," he said, and to her immense relief, took his hand 
from her leg to fill a glass from the pitcher. 

She drank, for she was terribly thirsty, and before she'd swallowed the 
first mouthful of the very over-spiced juice, his hand was back on her leg. 
The juice was so spicy that it made her eyes water, and she was already 
almost crying with embarrassment. He was looking at her in a most 
un-uncle-like way, and his robe had fallen open from his thigh to expose 
even more of his leg. Was he trying to do something to her? Impossible, 
unthinkable. And yet the thought was there, brought on, no doubt, by her 
shameful dreams and the feverish state they'd left her in. 

"That's enough juice," she said. "Would you put this glass back on the tray 
and leave, please?" 

"Finish it," he said, still smiling, and squeezed her leg a little higher. 

Hot as it was, she gulped it down-anything to get rid of him-and repeated 
her request, stiff as a board under the covers. She had to go to the 
bathroom, but above all, she had to get him out of there. 

"Yes, you're really a very lovely girl," he said, and to her absolute 
horror, ran his hand on up her leg and squeezed her on the hip. 

"Don't do that! Let me alone! Get out of here!" she cried, all in a panic 
now, trying to kick his hand away and hide beneath the covers. 

"Don't I get a kiss for bringing you your breakfast?" he said, and reached 
for her with both hands. 

"No! Mmph!" 

Her protest was cut off with his kiss. She tried to twist away from it and 
still hold the covers up, and he laughed and held her by the shoulders and 
kissed her throat and ears as well as her futilely protesting mouth. He was 
terrifically strong and she couldn't hold him off with all her farm-bred 
strength. Her impulse was to scream, but she didn't dare summon any member 
of the household to be witness to these terrible advances of her uncle, and 
so she pleaded to him in urgent whispers. 

"Let me alone. Stop it, Ronnie! I won't have you doing this. Don't touch me 
like that!" 

"Just give me a kiss and maybe I'll leave you be, honey." 

"No! This isn't right!" 

"Loosen up. Relax. A kiss won't hurt you." 

"All right," she said, and went limp. It was her only choice. She squinted 
her eyes shut and pursed her lips, and his arm slipped around her shoulders 
and his very warm mouth covered hers. Almost unbearably uncomfortable, she 
counted up to twenty while he was doing it, and then was panting for breath 
the instant he released her. She said, "You've got to go now." 

"That was no kiss, and I'm not leaving till I get one. Open your mouth this 
time, damn it." 

"No, I ... " 

He caught her this time with her mouth open, and when his tongue lanced in 
between her lips, all the shame of her awful dreams returned and she had to 
push at him and try to twist away again. He easily bore her down on her back 
and held her there, still kissing her, while through her mind and body ran 
dreadfully shameful feelings and emotions. As he kissed her and tried to 
choke her with his tongue, she grew faint from lack of breath, and when she 
at last had to draw in a big lungful of air through her nostrils, it made 
her dizzy. 

"You're improving," he said, "but slowly. Once you get turned on, you might 
be as hot a piece as Sylvia." 

"If you don't stop this minute and get out of here, I'll call her. I will, 
Ronnie." 

"One more kiss, and put something into it this time. Make like you enjoy it, 
and I just might go." 

Angrily now, she slung her arms about his neck and dragged him into one of 
those kisses she'd seen on a neighbor's television. It would surely make him 
leave. Repugnant as it was, she used her tongue in imitation of his, and she 
felt the rigid strength go out of him as if he was becoming manageable once 
again. She let the kiss dwell, for she wanted him to have no more excuses to 
stay, and she did her best to act as if she was indeed enjoying it. 

That wasn't really so hard to do, for it wasn't altogether unpleasant now 
that he wasn't being so insanely demanding. She tried to concentrate on her 
acting, and not think about how her thinly covered body really wanted to 
move against his. With her arms about his neck, the covers were down far 
enough so that there was very little between his chest and her breasts. Her 
breasts were being mashed down by his weight on her and they felt very 
swollen and full, the nipples hard and burning. Her loins felt all fidgety 
and even warmer and wetter than before, and she tried to combat this by 
squeezing her thighs tightly together, while "the kiss went on and on. It 
was awful having another person's tongue against hers, but still there a 
strange flavor about it that she found shamefully compelling, and she 
couldn't help thinking how sweet such kisses might be once she was wed to 
the man of her dreams. She lost count of the seconds that the kiss lasted, 
and for a time she thought that it might never end, but then she could pant 
for breath again through her swollen and tingling lips as he lowered his 
mouth to the hollow of her throat and nuzzled there like a starving lamb. 

"All right. I did it," she whispered. "Now, go. Go before somebody comes, 
and don't you ever dare to come back again!" 

He straightened up, and through the mists of confusion she watched in horror 
as he undid the sash of his robe, shrugged it off his shoulders, and exposed 
himself to her, saying, "How do you expect me to leave now, when you've got 
my cock so big and hard?" 

Chapter Seven 

"EEK! HELP! GET AWAY FROM ME!" All thought of maintaining some sort of 
propriety was gone, and Mary screamed and scrabbled backward on the bed, 
away from that enormous penis that jutted from his loins. Bulls, horses, 
rams, boars-she'd seen their erect organs many times before and had thought 
little about it, but now this human penis had her in a state of frenzied 
panic. Over and over she screamed, but he just laughed and pursued her, 
catching her by the wrist, pulling her toward him though she clawed and 
kicked like a wildcat to hold him off. 

He laughed at her. He twisted her arm up behind her back and made it so 
painful she had to submit to being pulled against his muscular body, now 
with only the flimsy white nightie separating his flesh from hers. Tears 
were streaming down her face, and still she struggled through the pain, for 
his big, naked penis was dangerously close to her now. She could feel its 
heat radiating against her, and she could see it from the corners of her 
wide, panic-stricken eyes no matter where she looked. "HELP! HE'S RAPING ME! 
SOMEBODY HELP ME!" she screamed, knowing that at any moment the door would 
open and they'd get this madman away from her. 

"Don't be so noisy," he said, and twisting her arm farther up between her 
shoulder blades, he kissed her again. 

His hand went to her breast, and she had to hold still for it. In a second 
or a minute, her aunt would come to help her, and she could stand anything 
for that long, even the pain, even the humiliation, even those strange, hot 
feelings that were slowly spreading through her body. Was this how he made 
love to her aunt? Did men always force their attentions on women who struck 
their fancy? Was she really a 'hot piece,' like her aunt? She prayed for an 
end to her ordeal, and although the pain diminished somewhat then, those hot 
feelings continued to spread. He was working them into her body with his 
hand on her breast. That was the offensive hand now, not the one holding her 
wrists, and it was even harder to fight against. Pain she knew, but these 
gushing feelings of shivering desire that were being forced on her were new 
and she didn't know how to handle them, except to go on screaming and 
begging, and now she was beginning to despair of any help coming. 

"Say, that's a beautiful pair of tits you've got." he said, sitting up to 
look at what he'd been feeling of. 

He went on feeling of them too. While she wept and writhed on her bed of 
shame, he squeezed and kneaded and tweaked them through the thin nylon, then 
rucked up the nightie and used his strong, hot hand on her bare flesh. When 
she turned her head to look away from the obscene hand on her virginal 
breasts, there was his huge penis before her, adding to her shame. 

"So help me God," she gasped, "I'll get even with you for all this even if 
it means killing you!" 

"You're loving every minute of it. You'd kill me now if I stopped, you phony 
little prude," he said, and ran his hand down over her lightly perspiring 
tummy to the thick tuft of light tan pubic hair that covered her seething 
slit. 

"I don't! I don't like it at all!" she cried, hating him anew, for he was 
right, it was even more thrilling than the erotic dreams she'd had about her 
aunt the night before. 

The hot feelings were everywhere in her body by then, in danger of exploding 
as they had in her dream. The pain in her arm had been going on for so long 
that the limb now seemed paralyzed behind her back. She struck weakly at him 
with her other fist and twisted her shoulder and hips, clenching her legs 
ever more tightly together, and he just went on, calmly smiling down at her 
and moving his hand all around her loins. It was both bad and good, terrible 
and wonderful, with her physical strength waning and with a strange sense of 
everything being all right seeping in on her. 

"GAHHH," she groaned, as the tip of his finger slipped into the top of her 
brimful slit, lancing her to the core with undeniably thrilling feelings. 

He chuckled, and then with the ball of his finger he rubbed her distended 
clitoris very hard, and she became temporarily insane. "Ronnie, I can't 
stand that!" she gasped, at the same time opening her legs wide, bracing her 
feet flat on the mattress, and thrusting her hips up at his wonderful, 
electrifying finger. 

"You're even hotter than I thought you were," he said, and delved all about 
in her sodden slit with his fingers, making every bit of it feel fully as 
sensitive as her clitoris. "Beautiful girl," he said. "All sexy and hot and 
ready to go. And you smell good too. Want me to eat it a little? Want me to 
lick your pretty cunt?" 

"No. That's wrong," she gasped, straining up at his hand. "Don't even talk 
like that. Let me go." 

He kissed her, working his tongue in and out of her mouth just as he was 
working his finger in and out of her slit, and he murmured hotly against her 
lips, "You don't want me to lick your cunt? You don't want to go a little 
sixty-nine before I fuck you?" 

"I want you to ... leave me alone," she panted, clutching at his hand, 
opening her legs wider for it, having no idea at all of what the number was 
that he referred to. 

"You don't want me to kiss you here, eh?" he said, and smacked a kiss on her 
saturated pubic mound that sent her soaring on wings of ecstasy. "You don't 
want me to kiss your cunt?" 

"Yesssss," she heard herself hiss. "Do it. Kiss - it." 

"I'm going to have to let go of your arm to do it. Will you be good now, and 
not try to fight me?" 

"Just kiss it, touch it, I'm dying!" she said, clawing at the wonderful, 
burning itch herself now in her need. 

"Right here? In your cunt?" he said, and rubbed her bursting clitoris very 
hard again. 

"YES! YES, KISS MY CUNT. NOW!" 

He turned and swooped down on it as it came to meet him. He met it first 
with his lips, and these he used to suck her clit so quickly and so hard 
that she was sure it had indeed burst and carried her right along with it in 
a flash of brilliant, blinding light. And when he had it sucked out to three 
times its normal size, he lashed it with his tongue, making the stars burst 
all around her in an even more heavenly display of pyrotechnics. She was out 
of control now, thrashing and heaving and sweating on the bed, and not 
caring at all, just as long as this heavenly delight continued. She gave 
herself up completely to her delights, grabbing at the hair of his head and 
trying to shove him clear up inside her cunt, insanely happy in the fever of 
heat. 

Then a warmth and a thick, sweet odor assailed her and she was being jostled 
about the head. She opened her lust-glazed eyes to see him straddling her 
head, the heavy sac of testicles and that great, obscene organ just over her 
face. 

"TAKE IT AWAY! I WONT KISS IT!" she cried, tossing her head from side to 
side, even as she was bucking her nips up for more of his wonderful kissing 
mouth. 

Again she was being torn in two. Her body was exploding with orgasm after 
marvelous orgasm, while her brain was rejecting everything about the 
experience, and especially those big male organs just over her tear-streaked 
face. In her thrashings, his penis and testicles actually brushed against 
her face, and she couldn't even scream for fear he'd jam them all into her 
mouth, while below, the wet slurpings of his tongue kept her wildly hot body 
in frenzied motion. 

"NO! NO! MMPH!" He did try to stick it in her mouth, and now she was 
suffocating with her nostrils in the reeking hollow of his groin, and with 
those creepily soft balls pressing against her cheek like lewd little 
animals. "MMMPH! YES!" she cried, as she felt him slip two wriggling fingers 
into her hole and make her cum in yet another way. 

He turned around and kissed her on the mouth, and the taste of her cunt made 
her know that the experience she'd had with Sylvia had not been a dream at 
all. It had been as real as this, but nowhere near as wonderful, now that 
his organs were gone from her face, and she had to know him all the way, 
right to the end, even though it meant the loss of her cherished virginity. 

"I'm going to fuck you now, Mary," he said, and at the sound of that awful 
word, it all changed again. 

"No! I'm a virgin. You can't." 

"Don't tell me I can't," he said, and easily wedged his big, strong body in 
between her legs, making her cunt yawn and gape for him. 

"You'll tear me. I'll bleed all over everything and everyone will know," she 
said, when she felt the size of his organ, so very close to her yearning, 
yet cringing cunt. 

"You'll love it, baby," he said, and taking his penis in hand, he rubbed 
that enormous blunt end of it up and down the length of her tender little 
trench. "You're just like your aunt, Mary. You were made for cock, you'll 
just love cock, once you've had a taste of it." 

"Cock," she gasped. "Give me cock," she said, and showed a great natural 
talent in gyrating her hips until she'd accurately centered her tight little 
hole under the big wedge of meat that he held between her legs. 

"Ready to fuck now, are?" he said, and made her body arch and her legs 
strain farther apart, just by thrusting an inch of that wedge into her. 

"Just do it. Just put it in!" she said, and by bucking and humping in a way 
she hadn't known she was capable of, she succeeded in getting yet another 
inch of what she had to have from him. 

From chickens to dogs to horses, she'd seen the act of coitus performed a 
thousand times, the same act that she'd read guilty references about, the 
same which her parents had never discussed with her. She had never 
understood what drove the animals to do it, nor what there was about it that 
turned man into animal. Now she understood. It was so utterly good, so 
perfectly delightful and satisfying, even with the pain involved, that her 
only wonder was that animals and people ever stopped doing it once they'd 
started. 

A part of him was inside her body. At least a pound of his flesh was tightly 
stuck into her, which was a miracle in itself, and at each of its smallest 
movements in her, the miracle was getting even better. She hugged him around 
the neck and crooned and cried out in her happiness, locked her legs about 
his waist and did all she could to make the delight last forever. Even his 
balls slapping against her fully exposed asshole was a delight, and her only 
regret was that she'd resisted him for so long when he'd known exactly what 
it was that she'd needed, right from the start. She wanted to laugh and 
shout with glee, to clasp his hands even more tightly over her breasts, to 
spur him on to even faster, even deeper thrusts with his wonderful, 
wonderful cock, and all of these and more she did with unashamed gusto, so 
deeply ensnared with the physical delights and the all-consuming love he was 
bringing to her. 

It was all too perfect. It couldn't be improved upon. But then, just as 
easily as the other miracles he'd performed, he made it even better. He 
uttered a strangled groan, and she distinctly felt his wonderful cock swell 
even more in her overburdened cunt. Instinctively, she knew that he had been 
overtaken by the same wonderful feelings that soared and burst in her, and 
that he was ejaculating in her, proving his love for her. 

"I LOVE YOU! I'LL LOVE YOU ALWAYS!" she cried, and the sweetness inside her 
was so strong that it overflowed. Her love juices were flowing down over her 
anus as he pumped and humped, deep inside her, too overcome to verbally 
return her statement of love. The orgasm was shattering, releasing things 
too long pent up in her very ripe body. Her heart felt as if it would burst, 
and in fact, her bladder did, and as he surged and pumped to the end of 
their marvelous mutual climax, her urine came gushing out of her in a 
torrent that added the perfect final crescendo to the wet sloshings of their 
perfect act of love. He slowed and stopped, and she fell into a smiling 
swoon, arms and legs falling away from him, body deflating with a long, 
drawn-out sigh, utterly content. 

Ronnie said something, laughing, but Mary was too close to unconsciousness 
to understand it. "Wha'?" she murmured. 

"I said, you're a damned good fuck, baby. And I literally fucked the piss 
right out of you. Is that standard for you?" 

His vulgarity chilled her and renewed her shame, and she said, "I couldn't 
help it. Let me up." 

"No, tell me. Do you always wet the bed when you cum? Have you ever done it 
before?" 

"No! But then I've never been raped before either," she angrily said. "Get 
off me. Get your awful ... thing out of me." 

"My cock?" he said, working it in deeper. "Don't you want to fuck some more? 
Don't you love me any more?" 

"I hate you!" she said, trying to claw at his handsome, smiling face. "Let 
me up." 

"Let's see if you have one more little cum in you, Mary," he said, and began 
wriggling his body atop hers, grinding his furry pubic bone against her 
clit. 

"DON!' STOP IT!" she cried, beating at him again. "HAVENT YOU DONE ENOUGH TO 
ME ALREADY, YOU ... OOOOOO! OH, GOD HELP ME! OHHHHHH! AYYYYY! WHAT'S HAP ... 
AARRRRGGGH!" 

"C'mon, baby. One more cum for old-uncle," he said, gloating over her, 
mashing her clitoris and making all the wonderful feelings return so quickly 
she had no chance to resist them. "One more quick little fuck." 

"STOP IT! URRRRGGGH! OH, IT'S SO GOOD, I LOVE IT SO." 

"Love to fuck, do you? Is that it? Do you love to fuck?" 

"LOVE TO FUCK, LOVE TO FUCK," she gasped, thrusting back hard, straining for 
all she was worth to reach that delirious peak of pleasure again, and almost 
achieving it before he stopped. 

"Yeah, you're a good lay," he said, and slapping her smartly on the flank, 
he jerked his cock free of her drooling cunt and rolled off her. 

For an instant, Mary felt terribly empty, awfully lonely. Then her modesty 
returned, and she quickly rolled away from him, trying to cover herself with 
the inadequate nightie, trying to pull some bedclothes over her violated 
body. The grinning man now looked like the devil himself, and she hated him 
roundly, but no less than she hated herself for having been so overwhelmed 
by the pleasures of the flesh. She was dazed and afraid of him, and 
thoroughly disgusted with herself as she scrambled out of bed and scurried 
toward the bathroom, holding the nightie down over her bottom as she went. 

She expected her loins to be covered with blood, but there was none to be 
seen. There was pain to be felt there, but nothing like that which she'd 
expected from being raped. But had she been raped? Heavens, at times she'd 
even cooperated with him, and that was dreadful, unforgivable. Weak in every 
part of her body, she leaned against the basin and gazed dully at her 
reflection in the mirror, and it turned her stomach. Her hair was a rat's 
nest, her eyes dull and heavy lidded, and her mouth so kiss-bruised that it 
looked like she was wearing lipstick. Even through the white nylon, her 
nipples could be seen as bright as her lips, and still erect from the 
terrible excitement that had so unexpectedly seized her. It wasn't a real 
soreness she felt in her loins, but a consciousness of herself there, an 
awareness of the existence of her vagina that she feared she might never get 
over. This, she decided, was because she was already pregnant, because the 
hated seed of that abominable rapist was already growing in her. 

She clutched at her belly, wanting to cry, although tears had done her 
absolutely no good in bed. Now was the time for practicality, not hysterics. 
Get into the shower, do what she could about washing his seed out of her, 
and then go straight to her aunt and let her know what kind of a monster she 
was married to. 

The warm -water felt good, but she would have much preferred being in the 
old cast iron bath tub in Indiana. She clumsily held open the swollen lips 
of her shamefully responsive sex and splashed water up inside her drooling 
vagina, hating her body nearly as much as she hated her uncle. 

She leapt at the sound of the shower door opening, and then there he was 
again. She covered herself as best she could with her hands, even though 
he'd already harmed her far more than by just depriving her of her modesty, 
and she said, "Go away! Leave me alone, you ... you brute." 

"Just want to save some water by sharing your shower," he said, closing the 
door behind him. 

His penis, though still huge, was no longer erect, and he therefore was no 
longer frightening. He was an object of scorn now, not fear, and she said, 
"I wouldn't share anything with you." 

He laughed and tried to grab her. "Not anything but your bed. Give us a 
kiss, Mary dear." 

Wet and soapy as she was, she could slip out of his hands, but as small as 
the shower stall was, she couldn't escape from him. He cornered her and got 
her, placed his dirty hands on her soiled body, and gloated over what he'd 
done to her. He kissed her and she stoically submitted to it, for he'd done 
far worse to her, and she cringed back from the soft lump of his organ 
against her loins. 

Then his tongue slipped into her mouth, stirring a fast, hot spark of 
remembrance from the dead coals of her body. She pushed at him, and he 
pushed back with his body, flattening her against the wall and making her 
feel the slow swelling of his cock. Ahh, it had felt so good in her, and now 
it was stiffening, wanting to be able to get in her again, used and dirty as 
she was. She pushed harder at him, and now her hand skidded off his chest 
and went around his neck, and the memories of that other erotic time she'd 
had in that shower came on so strongly that she was clinging to the rapist 
and kissing him just as ardently as he was kissing her. His cock was hard, 
wonderfully hard, and she grabbed it in her hand and tried to shove it 
against her cunt, making little whimpering pleadings through the hot, lovely 
kiss. 

"Want to fuck again, do you?" he said. 

"Don't talk. Just do it, quickly. Do it, and ... and I won't tell Sylvia 
about any of this." 

"I'd take you up on that, but it's not up all the way yet." 

"It is! It's as big as ever!" she said, as hot as ever, and now totally 
eager to transfer it from hand to cunt. 

"What I need is a nice little blow-job to get me ready." 

"B-blow-job?" she said, testing and retesting the hardness of him with her 
hand. 

"I wish you'd stop playing the role of the dumb little country cousin and 
get with it. I want you to suck me off, honey. I want you to give me a 
blow-job before I fuck you again." 

"Su-su-su ... " she stammered, all feverish now under the warm water. 

"Suck my cock," he said, and turning off the water, he led the unresisting 
girl back into the bedroom. 

"I can't do that, I won't do that," she said, shivering, trying to keep her 
hold on the cock she needed in her. "Please, Ronnie. Please, just fu-fuck 
me." 

"No. You su-suck me first," he said, and there at the edge of the bed, gave 
her a kiss that further weakened her. He sat down and smacked a kiss on her 
wet fur, and at once she was grabbing at his curly hair again. 

"Oh, no." He laughed, and disengaged her hands. "You're going to do me now," 
he said, and grabbing her by the hips, easily forced her to her knees before 
him. 

She started to protest anew, but one look at his cock stopped her words. It 
was fully erect, pointing at her from his loins, magnificently strong and 
wonderfully beautiful. He told her to take it in her mouth, and she found 
herself bending forward, her saliva glands functioning wildly. "Suck it a 
little, baby, and then I'll fuck you," he said, and she bent lower still. 
"Where's your pussy?" he asked, searching for it with his toes, and she 
grabbed his foot and shoved it against herself, then grabbed his cock in her 
hand and placed her lips on its end. 

It was satiny smooth, quite unlike the hot iron she'd expected, and with a 
murmur of delight she sucked the big knob of it in and sought for that 
wickedly lovely taste that she'd only smelt up till then. It was not there. 
He tasted of fresh water and the hint of soap, and it was all the texture 
and form of it in her mouth that was so thrilling ... that and those 
wriggling toes in her pussy. 

"It seems as if you like cocksucking too," he said, and she nodded her head 
and sucked more warmly, all aglow with the knowledge that a girl's cunt 
wasn't the only place that was receptive to a man's cock. She could taste 
hints of the maleness she'd smelled before in bed, and she sought for more 
of it as she settled more snugly against his moving foot. 

Chapter Eight 

When Valeria awoke, as late as usual, she lay for a while in bed, idly 
stroking her pussy while she again reflected on the wildly sexy time she'd 
had with Ronnie and Nelson in the hotel room the night before. Fooling with 
the servants was, of course, a practice which was far below her, but 
indulging in that forbidden act had been every bit as exciting as getting it 
on with Ronnie. That was strange, for Nelson really had nothing to offer in 
comparison to her stepfather. He was too old and he wasn't really handsome 
and his pecker was insignificantly sized, and she therefore concluded that 
it had been the sheer forbiddenness of the sex act with him that had made it 
so thrilling. Unfortunately, it had made Ronnie very mad at her, so much so 
that she'd have to seduce him all over again from the start, and Ronnie's 
subdued anger at Nelson had probably frightened the chauffeur into taking a 
hands-off position toward her in the future. Perhaps it was just as well, 
though. She could get into a lot of trouble if her mother ever found out 
about her and Ronnie, and she really had no desire to ever make it again 
with Nelson. It had been a wild fling, and now it was over and she should 
kiss and make up with Robert, chalking up the hotel room experience in her 
book of sexual adventures. That morning, she had no real desire for any of 
the three men in her life, but she did have to call Robert and make amends 
for the silly little argument they'd had. 

She used her private phone at bedside and, as expected, it took only a few 
minutes of sweet talking on it before Robert was on his way over to see her, 
wanting to finally resolve their argument in person. She got up and showered 
and dressed, putting on a little pink cotton dress that Robert was 
particularly fond of, and then went out to the kitchen for some breakfast. 
Sarah was nowhere to be seen, and with but half an hour before Robert was 
due to arrive, Valerie irritably went to the cook's room to rouse her. 

The two servants each had a small room behind the kitchen, and Valerie went 
to Sarah's door and was about to knock when she heard muted pantings coming 
from within. Nelson, she decided, was probably in there with her, busily 
expending the sexual energies that his encounter with Valerie had inspired. 
She felt like rousting Sarah out of there, for she was hungry and wanted 
breakfast, but then decided to let the servants have their sordid little fun 
while she settled for a glass of milk with which to start the day. She 
started on past Nelson's room, and seeing the door slightly ajar, paused 
long enough to peep in. To her surprise, there was Nelson, or at least a 
thin strip of him, visible through the similarly open bathroom door. 
Curious, she slipped inside and tiptoed to his bathroom, pushed the door 
open, and caught him with his head inside the medicine cabinet over his 
sink, and the bulge in his trousers resting on the edge of that sink. 

For a moment, he was surprised to see her, but then he held his fingers to 
his lips and pointed to the interior of the cabinet. Frowning quizzically, 
she looked where he was pointing, through a small hole in the back of the 
metal-lined cabinet. The view she got was of the interior of Sarah's 
adjacent bathroom, as seen through her open medicine cabinet, and of Sarah 
lewdly sprawled on the toilet, skirts up about her waist, manipulating a 
long white plastic device in the gaping red wound between her thick legs. 
The plump cook was panting and moaning in a disgusting manner, and Valerie 
looked away, to Nelson's face, flushed and reddened, and almost as 
disgusting to her as the sight of Sarah fucking herself with the piece of 
plastic. Nelson shushed her again, but she had nothing at all to say to him. 
She headed out of the room, and he caught her in the hall. 

"Helluva show, eh? Did it get to you, Valerie?" he asked, squeezing her 
waist, then her breast. 

"I thought I made it clear. I'm a doer, not a looker, and I sure don't feel 
like doing anything with you." She headed back toward the kitchen, 
deliberately swinging her petite hips widely to show her scorn for him. She 
paused at the kitchen door and smirked over her shoulder at the gaping fool, 
then flipped up the back of her skirt to give him just a glimpse of what 
sort of thing he should be looking at. She felt very self-satisfied when he 
followed her down the hall. 

When he entered the kitchen, she was presenting him with an even better view 
of her. Stiff-legged, she was bent over to examine the contents of the 
refrigerator's bottom shelf. Her skirt was short enough so that much of her 
panty-clad bottom was exposed, and a lovely tingle went through that part of 
her when she heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight of her. 

"Don't let me keep you from your peeping, Nelson. I can manage for myself 
just fine here." 

"That sure looks awful good, Miss Valerie. Mind if I stay and sort of watch 
you?" 

The scrape of a chair behind her sent queer, good shivers down through her 
bottom, and she said as casually as she could, "I don't care what you do, 
but it wouldn't be good if my mother caught you staring at me." 

"Your mother's busy at something. She told me and Sarah to keep to the back 
of the house for a while. Yeah, you sure look good, Valerie." 

From over her shoulder, she sneered openly at him, and he continued to grin 
at her upturned bottom in a most pathetic but somehow stimulating way. 
Boldly, she thumbed her panties down to mid-thigh and waggled her ass, on a 
level with his face, and felt that queer excitement in her increase sharply 
with the look of lust on his craggy face. "Might as well have a. good look 
then," she said. 

He licked his lips and adjusted the front of his pants. He was just as 
excited as he'd been while watching them in the hotel room, and now there 
was no doubt that he was watching only her. She turned to face him, and now 
the good feelings were there in her cunt, exactly where he was staring so 
intently. Still registering disdain for his aberration, she tucked the hem 
of her skirt in the waistband of it and provocatively worked her panties 
down over her knees, then over her feet. With one hand, she swung them in a 
circle, in the fashion of a stripper she'd once seen in a film, and with the 
other, she parted her swelling cunt-lips to feel his hot gaze directly on 
her most sensitive parts. The poor fool looked as if he might cream in his 
jeans, and she sauntered and hip-slung her way toward him, wishing and 
hoping he'd do just that. She tossed her panties in his face, and his only 
reaction was to blink and go right on staring. 

Her small,' open cunt was but a foot from his face, though it didn't feel so 
small just then. It felt as if it would accommodate her whole fist as she 
worked two fingers in it, saying as she did, "So you like to see women play 
with themselves, eh?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I sure do," he breathed, and the touch of her breath was very 
warming. "I like to look at you, Miss Valerie." 

"That makes you a pervert, you know," she said, working those fingers in her 
cunt, greatly relishing this easy power she held over him. 

He nodded, and she made him sigh and wilt by drawing her wetted fingers 
across his upper lip. "I bet you'd like to eat it. I bet you'd like to fuck 
it. Well, you can't. All you can do is look." 

"That's all I want," he murmured. "But if you wanted me to, I'd ... " 

"I don't want you to do anything to me, you queer," she snapped, though her 
cunt was by then aching for a touch. She moved six inches closer, where she 
could feel his breath all the time, and sneered, "I wouldn't let you touch 
me if you got down on your knees and begged." 

She started to lower the hem of her skirt, and all at once he was on his 
knees, hands clasped behind his back, blurting, "Just let me look, just a 
little more." 

She swayed toward him, lifting her skirt again, and was just about to feel 
his mouth as well as his breath on her seething loins, when the door chimes 
sounded. 

"Damn. That'll be Robert," she said. 

"I guess I'd better answer it," he said. "Your mother said she didn't want 
to be disturbed," 

"What's she doing that's so important?" 

"I don't know. She's waiting around outside the guest room," he said, 
rising, hiding the bulge in his pants. 

"I'll answer the door, and you can go back to peeping at Sarah," said 
Valerie, and walked off, switching her little ass, all aglow with how she'd 
turned Nelson on, but frustrated by her need to tease him even more. But 
Robert would do. He was quite teasable, in a different sort of way. 

In many ways, Robert was just the boy Valerie wanted. He was four years 
older than she and in his second year at college, and this provided prestige 
for Valerie in the eyes of her girl friends. He was good looking and 
athletic and he had a car, as well. His trouble was that he was square. He 
drank nothing stronger than beer, he didn't take any drugs whatsoever, and 
he expected more fidelity from Valerie than she was prepared to offer. Their 
argument had come about because she'd agreed to wear his fraternity pin, but 
had balked at going steady with him. The argument had in turn led to 
Valerie's making it with Ronnie, which proved to her that lover's quarrels 
had their good sides as well as their bad. And Robert was a good lover, the 
best Valerie had had, until her stepfather. Robert's only fault at 
love-making was that he was unimaginative, and as such, there was a tendency 
for their sex sessions to be boring of late. 

As always, he was nicely dressed when she opened the door for him, wearing 
slacks and a sweater, his brown hair neatly combed, and bearing a box of 
candy in his hands that immediately told her that he'd given in on the 
argument they'd had. 

The twenty-year-old girl went on tiptoe to greet him with a hot little kiss, 
and with her arms about his neck, the elevation of her skirt reminded her 
that she was without panties. If Robert knew, he'd die, but to Valerie it 
was a kick. He wanted to come in and talk, but Valerie suggested they go up 
to the roof garden for that, and he agreed. Riding up in the elevator, she 
held his hand tightly, pressing the back of it against her hip, feeling 
sexual excitement grow in her. 

The roof garden was shared by all the tenants of the big apartment house, 
and used mostly by the children living there. There were perhaps a score of 
them up there, some playing on the slide and swings, some peering through 
the tall fence that rimmed the roof's parapet, a few sleeping in strollers 
with their mothers in lazy attendance. Robert led Valerie to an umbrellaed 
table where they sat down. 

He started talking about his school, about the social events coming up, and 
worked the one-sided conversation around to the possibility of their going 
steady. She listened with half an ear, finding even the activities of the 
children around them to be more interesting than what he was saying, and she 
amused herself by giving his thigh a nice little massage, and observing how 
his rising excitement affected his speech. She didn't touch his prick, but 
she came close enough to it so that she had him stammering and sweating, and 
then that too got to be boring. 

Valerie then noticed two boys, about twenty or thirty , who were at the edge 
of the roof about forty feet in front of where they were sitting. The boys 
had a telescope which they'd been using to look at the city with. Now a very 
considerable thrill went through her as she saw that its lens had been 
turned on her. Almost the moment she noticed it, the boys quickly turned it 
back on the city below, but she was sure they'd been looking at her. Talking 
to Robert, she watched them from the corner of her eye, and sure enough, the 
long black instrument was again swung toward her. She could see that the two 
boys had their heads together and were giggling, and she cast a half-smile 
in their direction to let them know that she didn't really mind their 
admiration of her. But when she turned to look at them again, they quickly 
looked away, as if not knowing of her existence. 

Valerie turned back to Robert, and when from the corner of her eye she saw 
the scope swing toward her again, she shifted in her chair and slowly opened 
her legs. The, boy holding the telescope froze, and his companion tugged at 
his sleeve and grabbed for the scope. A lovely thrill shot through Valerie 
as the two adolescents fought for the privilege of looking at her. She 
opened her legs wider and managed to hike her skirt up a bit, and as with 
Nelson, she could actually feel their eyes on her pussy. The feeling made it 
moisten, and she ached to get her fingers in it now, but still she went on 
talking with Robert, squeezing his leg, arousing him without his having any 
idea at all of how hot she was getting. 

She slowly turned her head to face the boys, and now they were so absorbed 
in observing her under the table that they didn't notice she was looking 
directly at them, smiling as she spoke with Robert. She had Robert hot, but 
not nearly as hot as the boys were. Undoubtedly they both had stiff pricks 
as they passed the spy glass back and forth. Surely they could see her hairy 
patch, and she ardently hoped they could see a little ribbon of wet pink 
flesh as well. To insure that they could, she glanced about to see that no 
one else was looking, then casually drew her hand up her leg, pulled aside 
one warmly wet labia, and brought her hand on up to brush back her long dark 
hair. Again, the boy with the glass froze, having followed the course of her 
hand to her face, having seen her looking back at him. She smiled and 
winked, and she could see his mouth fall open. He spoke to the other boy, 
who immediately snatched the telescope away and looked for himself, and then 
their grins and nudgings were even more exciting to Valerie. 

She wondered just exactly how her pussy looked to them. It probably filled 
the eyepiece of the telescope, so that all they saw when they looked there 
was black hair and pink flesh, hugely exciting to little boys that age. She 
yawned her legs wider, to show them more pink. It was highly probable that 
they could see her clit, for by then it was so swollen with her weird lust 
that she could feel it sticking out from between the juicy lips of her cunt. 
She touched herself again, this time slipping her fingertip inside her 
vagina, just as each of those bratty boys wanted so badly to do. Even more 
badly, they surely wanted to run off someplace and jerk off, but they'd stay 
right where they were as long as she continued to provide them with a show. 
The sun was warm, but she was warmer by far. She was hot, so hot she was 
trembling with it and there were beads of perspiration forming under her 
arms. A few stories below, her cousin Mary might be a better-looking girl, 
but there was no doubt in Valerie's mind that of the two of them, she was 
the sexier. 

Still Robert went on talking, saying she knew not what. She saw him now as a 
very stupid, very dull person. And Ronnie and Nelson, they were dull too, in 
comparison to these two sexed-up boys she had staring at her. Christ, she 
could get little boys like those to do anything she wanted. They'd worship 
her, they'd be her slaves, and they'd love every moment of it. 

At last, when her heat was such that she could stand it no longer, she said, 
"Robert, would you be a dear and go down to the apartment and bring us up a 
pitcher of lemonade?" 

He readily agreed, and after surreptitiously rearranging the front of his 
pants, got up and left. The moment he was gone, Valerie's grin broadened, 
and with her hand between her legs, she crooked a beckoning finger to the 
boys with the telescope. 

They pointed to their chests, saying, "Who, me?" They looked at each other, 
then back at her, and grinning sheepishly, they slowly came forward. One was 
stocky, the other spindly. One had a few pimples on his face, the other had 
slightly bucked teeth. What Valerie really noticed, though, was that both of 
them had stiff peckers inside their pants. 

"Did you enjoy the show, boys?" she asked when they got to the table. 

They both giggled like girls. "Yeah," they said. 

She asked them their names. "Jeff," said the stocky one. "Jimmy," said the 
bony one. 

"Would you like a better look?" she asked. "A close look, where you don't 
have to use the telescope?" 

They were practically pawing the floor in their excitement, and at the same 
time guiltily looking around them, fearing others might have seen what they 
were up to. No one else had. The other children were busy playing, and the 
two baby-sitting mothers had departed from the roof garden by then. Valerie 
rose on shaking legs and headed for a big ventilator that occupied a corner 
of the roof, proud of herself for the false poise she was showing before the 
boys, and supremely confident that they were both right on her heels. Safely 
behind the ventilator, she turned and faced them, hands on hips, fingers 
drawing up the hem of her skirt to a point where her itchy little cunt 
almost showed. It took a great deal of effort to speak in an unwavering 
voice. 

"Well? Who wants to look first? Or do you both want to see me up close at 
the same time?" 

They giggled, and then both crouched down as she slowly raised her skirt. 
They glanced nervously behind them, then got to their knees, right at her 
feet, and commented on what she was showing them. 

"It's not as hairy as it looked through the telescope." 

"It looks weird." 

"I dunno, I sorta like it." 

"Where does a guy ... you know ... put It in?" 

"Right here," she said, spreading her feet and bending her knees to squat 
obscenely before them. "Right here," she said, and drew back her dewy wet 
lips to show them the orifice of her vagina. 

Each of their oohs and aahs, and even their giggles was an added excitement 
to her, making her cunt a richer shade of pink and making her labia wetter 
and more swollen in her fingers. "And this is my clit, my love bump," she 
breathlessly explained and drawing back-its little sheath with two fingers, 
she extruded that highly sensitive organ for them and squeezed it nice and 
hard for herself. 

"Do you think I'm pretty there?" she asked. 

"Well, yeah," Jeff doubtfully answered. 

"It's a whole lot prettier than a guy's thing," Jimmy said. 

"Want to touch it, boys?" 

There was no disagreement or hesitation at this suggestion, but she stopped 
their hands with a sharp command before they could touch her eagerly 
awaiting flesh. "No, not yet. First I want to see yours." 

Jeff was reluctant, but Jimmy cast another glance over his shoulder and 
ripped open the zipper of his pants. He took out his prick. Like the rest of 
him, it was slender and long. Then she allowed him to touch her exposed 
loins, and as rough and inexperienced as his touch was, she found it to be 
thrilling. It was thrilling too, the way Jeff so quickly followed in taking 
out his shorter, more stubby prick, so that he too could grasp and poke at 
her most private flesh. 

Her head was swimming now with hot desire. She felt she was no longer a 
fifteen-year-old girl, but a mature and voluptuous film star whom people 
would pay to see. Their hands got rougher as they both felt of her cunt 
together. Those four little hands were dirty as well as clumsy. Poking and 
prying, they hurt her, but even the pain was good with those two pair of 
admiring eyes so close to her, and Valerie's legs grew so weak that she had 
to sit down suddenly. The hot concrete of the roof burned her bare ass so 
that she jerked her hips forward, thrusting her cunt harder still against 
those exploring hands. The pent-up lusts in her little body exploded then. 

"AH! AH! Stick your fingers in me, you little brats! Get down there and kiss 
it!" 

"Jeez, I think she's cummin'," Jeff said, in awe of the spectacle of her 
writhing in ecstasy, skirt up to her waist, little hips contorting madly. 

"Man, she sure is!" said Jimmy. "Let's fuck her. You wanna fuck her? You 
gonna let us fuck you, lady?" 

"You have to kiss it first," she said, panting, gasping for breath. "Both of 
you." 

They hesitated, looking at each other, and Valerie summoned her self-control 
and spread her little legs farther, moving more provocatively still under 
the attentions of their hands. "Kiss it," she said. "You'll like it, I know 
you will. And then I'll let you both fuck me. I promise." 

"Aw, what the heck," Jeff mumbled, and took Jimmy's place as the bolder of 
the two by bending and pecking a fast kiss on her wet and hairy mound. It 
wasn't anywhere near as thrilling as Ronnie's experienced tongue in her 
cunt, but somehow, in her exposed and vulnerable position, it was even more 
satisfying. 

The boy came forward on his knees, his short, fat prick in his hand, 
grinning lewdly and quite ready to stick it in her. "Wait a second," said 
the other. "I'm not gonna kiss it after you've fucked her." 

"Then kiss it now!" Valerie said, and when he at last bent to do it, she 
caught him by the hair of his head and ground his protesting mouth into her 
wet flesh. 

"OH! OH, GOD THAT'S GOOD. EAT IT. EAT IT!" 

She felt him use his tongue, and it brought her to another peak of orgasm, 
brief as it was. He liked it, it seemed, and would have given her a good 
tonguing, had it not been for his friend's eagerness. 

"Hey, get away. I get to fuck her now. I kissed it first, so I get to fuck 
her first." 

"Do it," she panted. "Fuck me. Now!" 

"Well, I ... " he said, positioning himself between her legs. "I don't 
exactly know how." 

"You're virgins? Both of you? Beautiful, just beautiful!" she said, feeling 
even more worldly and mature. "Get on your back. I'll fuck you." 

Jeff did as he was told, and Valerie was helped up by Jimmy to take a 
straddled position over his friend. Jeff's cock was adorable in her mind, 
and as hard as she'd ever felt one to be. Grinning down at him, sighing, she 
worked it into the orifice of her cunt and wriggled down on it. 

"Don't cum yet," she panted. "Make it last. And you're next," she said to 
Jimmy, and took his more slender but equally hard cock in her hand. 

"How is it, Jeff?" Jimmy eagerly asked. "What's it like?" 

"I dunno. It's really weird, but it's a whole lot better than beating off." 

He was trying to thrust up into her, but she stopped him. "Ill do the work, 
Jeff. And, Jimmy, I'll keep you ready by giving you a little BJ if you 
like." 

"I'll say!" he exclaimed, and was on his feet at once. 

She moved only slightly on Jeff's straining cock as she quickly pulled 
Jimmy's trousers down around his knees and took his cock in her mouth. Then 
she could please both of them at once, and make them even more deeply in her 
debt. It was pleasing to her, too, and especially so when from the corner of 
her eye she saw three children's faces peering at, her in shocked silence 
from around the corner of the ventilator. 

Chapter Nine 

Armed with a Bloody Mary, Sylvia patrolled the hallway outside the guest 
room. She was nervous, waiting for the messenger to arrive from her 
attorney's office with the Power of Attorney form to be signed, and the 
muted sounds from behind the guest room door did nothing to dispel this 
nervousness. 

Her husband was in there, making out with her niece. There was no question 
about the fact that he'd succeeded in fucking the beautiful blonde virgin, 
and at the moment, it sounded as if he was furthering Mary's sexual 
education still more. Sylvia wished she was in the room with them, seeing 
the two beautiful young people together, joining them, but that was not a 
part of her plan. There was money involved, and that took precedence over 
sex, at least at the moment. Later, when she'd" gotten Mary to sign over her 
inheritance, there might be no end to the fun and games she could have at 
the expense of the sanctimonious little bitch who had somehow lured her into 
a Lesbian experience. 

Robert came and went from the apartment. She could hear his voice with 
Valerie, and she could hear the front door close behind them. It was a 
relief that they were gone. Now only the servants were in the apartment, and 
they could be trusted to obey her and stay in their rooms. She went on 
pacing the hall, sipping her drink, pausing at the guest room door from time 
to time to listen at it. She heard the faint sound of the shower running, 
and then that was interrupted by the door chimes. She hurried to answer it, 
and was very pleased to find it was the messenger boy with the blank form. 
He ogled her as she took it from him, even though she had dressed severely 
for her confrontation with Mary. She had on a black velvet robe, 
long-sleeved, long-skirted, and high-necked. Black velvet covered buttons 
ran down the front of it. Her long, dark hair was brushed out, and she wore 
no make-up save for a bit of lipstick. She looked properly gaunt and pale, 
as if she was in mourning, but still the messenger boy ogled her. She closed 
the door on him, and with the form in the pocket of her robe, went grimly 
smiling to the guest room. 

Sylvia opened the door very quietly. An electric tingle ran through her at 
the sight of Ronnie standing beside the rumpled bed, quite naked, smiling 
down at Mary, administering to his big, stiff cock. The beautiful young 
blonde was on her knees before him, her eyes closed, her mouth open, and her 
cheeks sunken, in from the suction she was exerting on Ronnie's cock. With 
one hand, she held the shaft of it, although it was so stiff that it needed 
no support whatsoever, beyond that of her moving lips. With the other hand, 
she was clutching at the calf of his leg, pulling his shin harder against 
her crotch. She was rocking rhythmically on her knees, her golden tresses 
gently swinging, those gorgeous breasts more heavily swinging, her mouth 
moving on his cock and her cunt rubbing against his leg. She looked as if 
she was enjoying this sex act every bit as much as Ronnie was. The tingle 
that Sylvia had first felt settled in her cunt, and she had to ignore it. 

"Oh, no!" Sylvia cried, and covering her face with her hands, she pretended 
to collapse against the door jamb. 

Ronnie's head jerked around, and he winked. Mary's eyes opened slowly, 
rolled in Sylvia's direction, and widened. Her rocking motion stopped, and a 
deep pink flush came to her cheeks. She began to slip away from him. Her 
hands trailed off his body, his prick slipped out from between her lips and 
sprang up to bump her nose, and she collapsed on the floor, weeping. 

The sobs of the beautiful, tan-skinned blonde were bitter as she lay 
crumpled at the feet of Sylvia's husband, and she beat weakly at the floor 
with her fist. "What have I done?" she moaned. "What's come over me?" 

Sylvia came forward, and signaling for Ronnie to help her, took one of 
Mary's arms and lifted her to the bed. She was as limp as a sack of 
potatoes, but jerking with her sobs. The married couple sat at each of her 
sides, and Sylvia spoke in somber tones: 

"Mary, I am so ashamed of you." 

"It wasn't my fault," she blubbered, feebly trying to cover herself with the 
inadequate nightie. "I don't know what came over me. He-he made me do 
terrible things, and ... and I don't know how he did it." 

"Oh, you don't." said Sylvia, most skeptically. "You don't know how he got 
you on your knees to suck his penis." 

"No! I was just laying in bed, and then ... and then ... oh, I just want to 
die!" 

"That's a very good act you're putting on, Mary," said Sylvia. "But I'm not 
buying it. I know you, Mary. I know you from last night. I know how you 
lured me into sinning with you, and now I'm glad that happened, because it 
proves to me that what's happened today wasn't Ronnie's fault. You lured him 
in here and you seduced him. That's very clear." 

"No, it wasn't that way!" the distraught girl insisted. "He came in here 
with my b-breakfast and he put his hands on me and he kissed me and he did 
... awful things to me. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't!" 

"And so you got down on your knees and sucked him off. I see," said her 
aunt, and turned to her husband. "Is that the way it was, Ronnie?" 

He took her cue. He said, "Sure, I touched her and kissed her, but not until 
after she'd got me so turned on I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry it 
happened, Sylvia, but your niece is a very alluring girl, and I just 
couldn't help myself. I tried my best to get away from her, but ... " His 
voice trailed off. 

"Don't lie," Mary said, looking up, her face tear-streaked. "Don't make me 
look any worse than I am. Go away. I never want to see you again. You're a 
liar and a rapist, and I hate you." 

"You may hate him, but you certainly don't hate this," said Sylvia, and 
taking her niece's hand in hers, she guided it to Ronnie's standing prick. 
She jerked away from it as if she'd been burned, shrinking from him and 
drawing closer to her aunt. Her aunt asked, "Ronnie, did you fuck her as 
well?" 

"Well, yes," he said, properly sheepish about it. 

"And was she a virgin?" 

"Hell, no. Virgins don't move like she did, and she certainly didn't bleed. 
Sylvia, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am about this." 

Mary began to splutter indignantly, and Sylvia reached across her to pat 
Ronnie's knee and say, "It's all right, dear. I can forgive you for being 
seduced by her. To be honest with you, she seduced me last night too." 

"No!" he said, genuinely shocked for a moment. Then he lifted Mary's face by 
her chin and said, "You're a busy little cunt, aren't you? That 
holier-than-thou attitude you put on makes a pretty good cover for a 
nymphomaniac, doesn't it?" 

"Don't you touch me!" she cried, trying to beat at him with her fists. "It 
wasn't my fault. None of it was. Something just came over me and I ... I 
don't know what happened." 

"This came over you," he said, and drew her hand to his cock. 

Sylvia smiled at him in encouragement, and Mary frantically tried to draw 
away from it again, because within her she felt that what they'd said was 
true, that she did indeed have the mark of the nymphomaniac on her and that 
she might lose control of herself again. He held her palm against it while 
she struggled, trying to cover her very shameful near nudity, and trying to 
protest. The hot, hard flesh she was touching was now totally abhorrent to 
her, though only minutes before she'd been sucking on it with complete 
abandon. 

He laughed and bore her over on her back, and there he pinned her down with 
his body as he kissed her, his prick hard against her belly. She went on 
fighting, never so mortified in her life, and she heard her aunt say, "The 
oversexed little tramp, she can't be trusted. How in the world am I going to 
keep her out of trouble during the next few weeks, and how in the world is 
she going to keep herself out of trouble once she's on her own?" 

She tried to declare that she wasn't a tramp, but Ronnie's mouth was 
covering hers, he had her pinned down, and that cock of his was insistently 
pressing against her. She actually felt like a tramp at the moment, still 
fighting against him, but having those feelings of deep yearning again. She 
managed to twist her head away from the kiss. 

"Let me up! Let me explain! Oh, just let me get dressed and get out of 
here!" 

"To where?" said her aunt, bending over her. "To the first man you meet, so 
he can fuck you out of your inheritance? Or to the first woman you meet, so 
you can seduce her and squander everything you have on her? Oh, no. You're 
staying right here." 

"Did she really seduce you, Sylvia?" Ronnie asked with interest, still 
busily engaged in holding the struggling girl down and roving his hands over 
her hot, scantily-clad body. 

"Why, I couldn't fight her off!" Sylvia said, adding to Mary's confusion and 
shame. "She was like an animal after me. It was more a rape than a 
seduction. You know how strong these farm girls are." 

"I didn't! I didn't mean to. Stop that. Please! Just let me up and let me 
go!" Mary cried, with the terrible itch between her legs starting up again. 

"I owe it to your dead mother to keep you here," said Sylvia, "and that's 
what I intend to do. I have a paper for you to sign which will insure you're 
staying here, and by God, girl, you're going to sign it or I'll see to it 
that you're committed." 

"What're you talking about? Let me go," Mary said, trying to jam her thighs 
together to expel Ronnie's intruding hand. He found her mouth again with 
his, and then it was even harder to understand what her aunt wanted of her. 

"I'm talking about a paper you have to sign that will guarantee you'll be a 
good girl while you're living with me. This paper," said Sylvia, and Mary 
caught a glimpse of it past the curly head bending over her. 

"What is it?" she panted, freeing herself of the unwanted and yet very 
stirring kiss. "Let me read it. Papa's attorneys said I shouldn't do 
anything without telling them ... OOOOO!" 

Her aunt's hand burrowed under her fanny and up into the crack of her ass, 
forcing Mary to throw herself atop Ronnie in her efforts to escape it. There 
Ronnie caught her in his strong arms and kissed her again, and she 
helplessly thrashed about on his muscular body, on his terrifically engorged 
cock, while the hand probed and poked at her. 

"Never mind your attorneys. I know what's good for you here now. Will you 
sign it? Will you?" Sylvia asked, digging deeper with her fingers, lustfully 
enjoying the spectacle of the confused and innocent girl squirming 
frenetically between her hand and her husband's body. The little nightie 
she'd dressed her niece in the night before was now soiled and wrinkled, and 
up around her waist, exposing her classically contoured buttocks, jiggling 
and jouncing on both sides of Sylvia's hand. Her hand was deep and low 
between them, probing at the silken wet flesh of her cunt, as well as at the 
sensitive tissues of her sphincter. She was kicking futilely with one leg, 
and Ronnie had the other imprisoned in a grapevine hold with his leg. Sylvia 
couldn't help but envy him the feelings of that glorious young body 
squirming frantically on top of his. "Will you sign it? Will you, Mary? It's 
for your own good." 

"Mmmph! Yes, but let me read it!" 

Ronnie found her lips again, and now Sylvia turned very smooth in her 
persuasions. She nestled closer to the addled girl, covering her rump with a 
velvet covered leg and warmly massaging her back, and she spoke close to 
her- very pink ear: 

"No need to read it, dear. It's all in legal language that you wouldn't 
understand. Just trust me and sign it, and then everything will be all 
right, and we'll all be best of friends again. Will you do that for me? Then 
I'll forgive you, dear." 

She managed to nod her head, and Sylvia then had to speak harshly to Ronnie 
before he'd release her. He still didn't let her go all the way, for he was 
obviously more than just a little aroused by it all. He let her sit up, and 
he continued to use his hands on her back and on her tummy while Sylvia 
produced a pen from the night table and held the Power of Attorney form for 
the weeping and thoroughly aroused girl to put her name to. 

A new kind of excitement came to Sylvia as the girl took the pen in hand. 
With one hand on Mary's leg and the other on the small of her back, Ronnie 
was keeping Mary's excitement at the proper fever pitch, and Sylvia helped 
him by stroking her warm, slightly moist back through the thin nylon. Her 
signature would be understandably shaky, but it would suffice, and Sylvia's 
excitement grew with each letter that was added to it. As she scrawled her 
name, Mary's tear-filled eyes flitted to the big erect prick at her side, 
and there was both fear and desire in those eyes. Sylvia snatched the form 
away and put it in her pocket the moment it was signed. 

"Now let me alone," Mary said, and covering her face with her hands, began 
to weep in earnest. 

Ronnie gave Sylvia a pleading look, and she smiled and began opening the 
buttons on her robe. She said in a warm, husky voice, "You're in no 
condition to be left alone now, dear. If we left you now, you'd just 
masturbate, and you know that isn't good for you. You need help, Mary, and 
we're going to give it to you. Isn't that right, Ronnie?" 

"You just bet it is," he said, and squeezed the girl's ass. 

"Leave me alone! I just want to get dressed and leave!" 

"Whoever heard of a nympho wanting to get dressed?" Ronnie laughed, and 
reached for her crotch. 

Mary struggled more furiously than ever, and Sylvia watched her with 
amusement as she continued to open her robe. Now there was near hysteria 
showing in Mary's eyes as she fought weakly at Ronnie's hands and looked 
apprehensively, yet compulsively, back and forth from Ronnie's prick to 
Sylvia's perfectly made breasts. A burgeoning lust was upon Sylvia now. She 
hated her niece for her youth and her natural beauty, and she looked forward 
with surpassing gusto to thoroughly destroying whatever remained of her 
innocence. 

"Ronnie," she said, peeling the black velvet robe off her alabaster 
shoulders, fully baring her hard-crested tits, "have you ever seen a Lesbian 
making love to another woman?" 

"Just in some dirty movies," he replied with a leer, tearing Mary's nightie 
now in his successful attempts to fondle her breasts and loins 
simultaneously. 

"You're going to see it now," she said, laying open the robe about her on 
the badly rumpled bed. "It's what Mary wants, and I'm going to be good to 
her and give it to her." Smirking, she took Mary by the shoulders and said, 
"Kiss me. Kiss me as you did last night, so Ronnie can see what you really 
are." 

"No! No, I won't, and you can't make m ... " 

CRACK! Without further ado, Sylvia slapped her niece sharply across the 
face, then swept her into her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. 
Stunned, the girl did not resist the pressure of her aunt's soft, open 
mouth, and when Sylvia thrust her tongue into that innocent mouth, a mewing 
groan escaped from Mary's throat and her struggles diminished. 

There were two pairs of hands on her now, and those plus the warmly scented 
wetness of the kiss were altogether too much to resist. She felt as if she'd 
been fighting this losing battle forever, and now she almost welcomed 
defeat, and the wonderful peace that it would bring. She was being pushed 
over backward again, very slowly, by the pressure of her aunt's warm, soft 
body. She was about to topple backward into the horizontal position that was 
made for sin, and all she could now do to try to resist her fall was to 
weakly grasp at her aunt's body. Her hands encountered the velvety smooth 
flesh of Sylvia's waist. They kneaded that flesh and she was gone, flat on 
her back, her arms about the wickedly wonderful woman that knew her inner 
desires so well, sucking hungrily on her tongue while her legs came open to 
the pressures of her uncle's hands. 

"Mmmmm." Sylvia purred against her lips. "I might learn to like sex with 
girls. But it'd be better if you learned to like sex with boys." She resumed 
the kiss before Mary could protest, further stirring her by massaging her 
aching breasts in exactly the way she'd wanted. 

"She seemed to like sex well enough with me," she heard Ronnie say from 
afar, and she had to open her legs to allow him greater access to her sodden 
slit, and to the madly itching love bud that throbbed for his touch. "I 
think she's bisexual, Sylvia. I think she swings both ways. I know I would 
if I was a chick. Especially if I was a nympho like her." 

Sylvia quit the kiss and said, "I think you're right, dear, but I'm sure she 
has a preference, one way or the other. Shall we see? Shall we see who she 
prefers to kiss these gorgeous tits of hers?" 

"Please don't," Mary panted, as together they rucked up her nightie to get 
at her aching, yearning breasts, but by then there was no conviction at all 
in her protest. 

She lay on the bed with her arms spread out, pinned under each of them, and 
her feet on the floor, completely without defense. Her breasts were at their 
disposal. They mauled and kneaded them, and it felt wonderful, but not 
nearly so wonderful as when each of her nipples, swollen to bursting, was 
taken in a warm, wet mouth and tickled with a tongue. She could feel that 
tickling clear down to her cunt, which was now bereft of the touch that it 
so badly needed. Never had she imagined that her breasts could have such 
fantastic sensitivity. It became far more than a tickling. It was a deep 
warmth that spread through every part of her, making the itch between her 
legs truly maddening, and making her entire body cry out for more of their 
kisses, more of their touch. 

She moaned and thrashed and panted, fighting a new kind of battle now to get 
her arms free so that she could scratch and claw at her cunt, her burning, 
gushing cunt. Their bodies held her fast and her arms would not come free, 
but at least she succeeded in encircling each of their necks and hugging 
their hot, sucking mouths harder against her tits. 

Then a hand began snaking down to her cunt. She didn't know whose it was, 
but she welcomed it, and planting her feet firmly on the floor, thrust up 
her hips from the bed and panted, "Yes! Touch me there! Hurry! Ahhhhh ... " 

She moaned with relief when the fingers reached their goal. They delved and 
dug, plucked and poked, seeking and finding the most needful areas of her 
exploding cunt. She was panting so heavily by then that she could give them 
no oral encouragement, but then none was necessary as the fingers and the 
mouths sent her shooting up, up, up in a giddy ascent toward those 
unimaginably sweet delights she'd only recently come to know as the most 
blissful experience in all the world. 

And this time it wasn't going to stop. Not ever. 

"Jesus, look at her cum!" Ronnie said. "She really goes for your 
finger-fucking, Sylvia." 

"She's quite insane with it. But let's see how she'll react to your cock, 
darling. D'you want to be fucked now, Mary dear?" 

"My tits. Suck me more," she gasped, so transported to delight by their 
mouths and by the fingers in her cunt, that nothing could surpass this. 

"Oh, Ronnie will make you cum even harder with his big beautiful cock," 
Sylvia said. "And while he's doing that, I'll let you make me cum. Would you 
like that?" 

"Cum," she moaned. "Wanna cum, cummm, cummmmm!" 

Chapter Ten 

With his arms around Sarah from behind, with his hands working on her big, 
soft tits, Nelson grinned as he watched them through the slightly ajar door. 
His employers really had their niece going, and it looked as if they'd just 
begun. 

The lovely blonde girl was terribly disheveled, but nevertheless lovely. She 
was on her back on the bed with her ass right on the edge of it, her feet on 
the floor, her legs wide-spread to show the gold-fringed, dew-kissed red 
gash that was her cunt. Nelson couldn't get a good view of her tits, for the 
heads of Sylvia and Ronnie obscured the view, but he could clearly see 
Sylvia's manicured fingers working rapidly and expertly in the girl's cunt, 
and he could see what it was doing to her. He could feel what it was doing 
to himself. 

He had a big hard-on and it was pressed hotly against Sarah's big behind. 
That behind was covered with a skirt and nothing else, for once he'd peeped 
at the activities in the guest room, he'd practically dragged the cook to 
his vantage point, needing to share the scene with her and thus arouse 
himself even more. At first she'd refused, then had come reluctantly, and 
now she was breathing almost as heavily as he, and it would have taken wild 
horses to drag her away from the crack in the door. He inched her skirt up 
in front as they watched, and got his hand on her cunt. It was much fatter 
and more thickly furred than the blonde one they were looking at, but it 
felt very good to the touch, wet and yielding and warm, and getting wetter 
all the time. 

"Ronnie will make you cum even harder with his big beautiful cock," they 
heard Sylvia say. "And while he's doing that, I'll let you make me cum. 
Would you like that?" 

"Cum ... Wanna cum, cummmm, cummmmmm! Never wanna stop," Mary moaned, still 
trying to hold onto Ronnie's neck as he drew away from her. 

Sylvia pinned her arms down and kissed her flush on the mouth, and Ronnie 
lurched to his feet, his cock a burgeoning flagpole of a thing, oozing 
seminal fluid at its end, throbbing. The sight of it so stirred Sarah that 
she reached behind her and found Nelson's with her hand. She looked at him 
pleadingly over her shoulder, and he nodded at the scene before them and dug 
deeper in her fat old cunt with his finger. 

Ronnie got down on his knees. His drooling prick bobbed up and down as he 
came forward, his hands on Mary's knees. He pushed them very widely apart as 
the girl strained to tilt her pelvis upward, instinctively assuming the 
position for coitus. Her cunt was already gaping, and now Sylvia turned 
about to spread its swollen and inflamed lips even wider with her fingers. 

"Slip it in her, dear," she said. "Stick your lovely big cock right in her 
cunt. That's what she wants." 

"Wait! No!" cried the girl, having trepidations now, at the last possible 
moment. 

She used her elbows to try to sit up, but then the livid purplish head of 
Ronnie's cock was shoved into her tight orifice, and with an open-mouthed 
scream of either bliss or pain, she fell back again, clawing at the covers, 
humping her hips forward to try to devour more of his rampaging cock with 
her gobbling cunt. 

It was only halfway in, and the fit was so tight it looked as if it would go 
no further. In his anxiousness to see the further penetration, Nelson was 
pushing his erection hard against Sarah's cushiony ass, and she was pushing 
back at him, murmuring soft little whimpering sounds. He covered her mouth 
with the hand he'd been using in her cunt, and she felt that at any moment 
she could join the highly sexed, beautiful blonde in orgasm, for her own 
smell was thrilling to her now, rank as it was. She pressed her tits hard 
against the door and its frame as she saw Mary's labia distorted like the 
lips of a mouth that were sucking on a big red popsicle. It was amazing how 
the girl thrashed so. 

Sylvia laughed as she rubbed Mary's clitoris hard, sending the luscious 
blonde into a new paroxysm of delight. Her love mount was still several 
inches away from Ronnie's hairy pube, and she was straining hard to meet it. 
Sylvia would not permit that, however. 

With a hand on Ronnie's heaving chest, she held him back, and said, "You 
like to fuck, do you, Mary?" 

"Cum! Gotta cum harder!" 

"Yes, and you've got to eat me too. You've got to lick out my cunt, darling. 
Right?" 

"CUM! Please! MAKE ME CUM HARDER! GET IT IN DEEPER!" 

"First get your tongue in me," Sylvia said, and with that, she straddled the 
girl's sweating, contorting torso and parted wide the lips of her cunt. 

Mary shook her head frantically as it advanced. It was a raw, red wound, 
about to envelop her. It reeked of sex, vividly reminding her of the 
homosexual shame she'd known the evening before, and its proximity blotted 
out much of the good, good feelings she had been knowing down below. "No, 
I'm not that way!" she protested, as her chin touched that hot wet flesh, as 
her lungs were filled with its fetid scent. "No! No! MMPH! MMPH! Mmmmmm ... 
" 

And then she was eating it, and it was delicious. Her hands dug into the 
softness of her aunt's haunches and she pulled the juicy cunt closer, 
lapping indiscriminately at the exuding nectar, and feeling all the good 
thrills returning with a vengeance as she did so. 

"Suck it, darling, and use your tongue at the same time," said her aunt, in 
a voice that told her that she too was caught in the throes of bliss. 

"Mm-hmm!" Mary murmured through the sex-flesh, and felt a star-burst of 
unadulterated ecstasy rip through her as Ronnie at last jammed his hairy 
pubic bone hard against her reaching clitoris. 

She got her legs around him and spurred him on with her heels. She got her 
tongue inside Sylvia's gushing hole to feast on her nectar, then pushed her 
back so she could concentrate on sucking her big, big clit and thus sharing 
the enormous pleasure she'd been introduced to by her wicked and wonderful 
aunt. Her cunt juice was leaking down over her asshole and Sylvia's was 
running down over her chin and neck, and still it came. Everything about it 
was good, even the soft and heavy pressure of Sylvia's buttocks on her tits, 
and the best part of it was, it was getting better all the time. 

"Lookit her tits," Nelson whispered in Sarah's ear, and squeezed hers very 
hard. 

It was indeed a sight to behold. Sylvia's buttocks were very white and very 
large, and Mary's tits were tan and full. The white flesh was sitting 
heavily on the tan, obscuring the nipples, and extruding the tan very 
tautly, like two balloons, ready to burst. Sarah pressed Nelson's hands even 
harder against her tits, and a strange feeling went through her as, with all 
her heart, she wished she could take Mary's place under Sylvia, her idol as 
a female, the woman she had worked for for so long. 

"Hold still now," Nelson whispered. 

He was lifting up Sarah's skirt in the rear, and she was far too fascinated 
by what she was seeing to even think of trying to stop him. She'd only 
masturbated a short time before, but now the lust was on her so strongly 
that she could scarcely breathe. Ronnie was fucking the girl strongly now, 
with deep, long strokes, and the girl was eating Sylvia vigorously. The 
slurping sounds, fore and aft, were blending erotically, even as Sarah's 
cunt juice began escaping to trickle down her leg. 

Her big ass was bare and Nelson had his hands on it. She could feel him 
opening his pants, and still she stared through the crack in the door. Mary 
was really going wild by then. Her shapely legs were tightly wrapped around 
Ronnie's waist to drive him deeper still, and what could be seen of her tits 
were pulsing with Sylvia's shifting weight on them as she licked and sucked 
her aunt to orgasm after orgasm. Her fine young body was bathed in sweat as 
it heaved and tossed under its erotic burden, and her muffled cries were 
unmistakably those of deepest ecstasy. 

Sylvia was crying out too. "Oh, my God," she said. "OH, MY GOD THIS'S GOOD! 
EAT ME, YOU BEAUTIFUL DIRTY LESBIAN! AND REACH UP AND SQUEEZE MY TITS! AH! 
OH GOD! OH, I CANT STAND IT!" 

"Yeah," Ronnie muttered, and his muscular buttocks tensed as he began 
shooting his load. His hands dug deeply into Mary's ass as he pulled her 
closer to him, pistoning hard in her. She knew what was happening, 
apparently, for the actions of her hips grew more frenetic still, and her 
hands went from Sylvia's tits to grope blindly behind her aunt for the man 
who was shooting cum in her, bringing her to yet another peak of pure animal 
pleasure. 

He was grunting like a hog, grimacing like a monkey, and shooting off like a 
Roman candle. Bolt after bolt of fiery cum was sent into her overflowing but 
highly receptive cunt, as his balls contracted spasmodically. 

And as Ronnie was cumming, Nelson got his prick in the deep crack of Sarah's 
commodious ass and began pumping with him. The chauffeur was very hot, very 
ready to cum, and he grabbed a handful of Sarah's cunt to goad her into 
further churnings of her hips that would help him along. It didn't take 
much. Even as Ronnie was slowing down in his ejaculating thrusts, Nelson's 
balls exploded and his juices began erupting in the soft, sweaty canyon 
between Sarah's big buttocks. It was ecstasy for him, since through his 
voyeuristic eyes he was able to merge with the three people he was staring 
at so raptly and thus share in their orgasms. It was good for Sarah too, for 
now his fingers were in exactly the right place again, the same place where 
Mary's tongue was in Sylvia's cunt. 

In her haste to get the legal form from the messenger boy, Sylvia had 
neglected to completely close the front door. When Robert came down from the 
roof garden to fetch the lemonade Valerie had wanted, he found the door open 
an inch, and not wanting to disturb anyone unnecessarily, he pushed it open 
and looked inside. He was about to call out, "Yoo-hoo. May I come in?" The 
words froze in his throat, though, when he saw Nelson and Sarah in the hall. 

Nelson was standing behind the plump cook, and she was apparently looking 
into the guest bedroom of the apartment. This in itself was a terrible 
breach of propriety on the part of the servants, but what they were doing 
was far more shocking. 

Sarah's voluminous skirt was up around her waist, and she was wearing no 
panties. Bloomers would have been a more appropriate undergarment for her, 
since her bottom was very large, very white, and looked to be very soft and 
yielding. The fatty flesh of it jiggled with the movements of Nelson, who, 
if Robert could believe his astonished eyes, was fucking her from the rear. 
The chauffeur's penis could not be seen, such was the extent of Sarah's ass, 
but his humping movements behind her were unmistakably those of sexual 
intercourse, and the lustful look on his face confirmed this. Sarah's 
dumpling face was as flushed as Nelson's as she stood at the door, digging 
her fingers into her overly large breasts and staring intently ahead. 

On seeing them, Robert felt an immediate tumescence in his loins, and this 
uncontrollable reaction was to him very nearly as shameful as what the 
family servants were doing. The indignation that flowed through him as he 
started down the hall successfully quelled that moment of sexual arousal. He 
had to fight it down again, though, when not three yards away from him, 
Nelson and Sarah shared a grinding, shuddering orgasm of such intensity that 
they didn't even notice his approach. They were still sighing when he firmly 
grasped Nelson's elbow. 

The burly chauffeur looked for a moment like a little boy caught with his 
hand in the cookie jar, but before Robert could even begin to admonish him, 
the sounds from within the master bedroom silenced him. 

"How was that, Mary? Did Ronnie fuck you well?" 

"Oh. Oh. I never knew ... anyone could . , . feel like that." 

"Was she any good, Ronnie?" 

"Fantastic! Not as good as you, of course. But really very good." 

"Ready for some more, Mary? I am." 

"Have to rest. Can't move." 

Nelson and Sarah were backing down the hall, hastily adjusting their 
clothing as they went, and Robert was sternly glowering at them. He shook Ms 
finger at them in silent warning and was about to follow them into the 
kitchen where he could properly admonish them, when curiosity compelled him 
to glance through the crack in the door. The tableau that he saw struck him 
very hard. 

Valerie's youthful stepfather was on his knees, just withdrawing his wet and 
swollen penis from the plump blonde vagina of a girl lying prone on the bed 
with her heels resting on the floor. Her legs were good. Valerie's mother 
had her back to Robert. She was shakily climbing off the girl's torso, and 
her very pale body, moist with perspiration, looked incredibly erotic to 
him. He knew the blonde girl on the bed was Mary, Valerie's cousin, for 
Valerie had mentioned that she was a visitor in the apartment, but from what 
Valerie had said about her, Robert couldn't believe she'd indulge in this 
sort of thing. He was still staring, open-mouthed, transfixed, when Sylvia 
turned about and saw him standing there. 

The serenely smug look on her face vanished in an instant, and she snapped, 
"Robert! How dare you?" 

"I wasn't! I just ... " Words failed him as the glowering Sylvia rose from 
the bed to come at him, her full breasts bobbing, her beautiful, 
lipstick-smeared face furious. Behind her, the girl looked groggily up, and 
though her face was swollen with passion, she was the most beautiful female 
Robert had ever seen. Ronnie was smiling crookedly as Sylvia approached him. 

"How dare you spy on us! Robert, I'm ashamed of you!" 

"But I wasn't," he pleaded, backing across the hall, trying not to look down 
at all the vast, naked loveliness right before him. "It was them. I was 
trying to stop them," he said, pointing down the hall, but Nelson and Sarah 
were nowhere to be seen. "It was N-Nelson and Sarah," he weakly said. 

By then Sylvia was standing in the doorway, fists in hips, breasts jutting, 
her lovely face registering scorn. She looked down the empty hallway and 
back at him, and said, "It's bad enough that you're a peeper, but it's worse 
to blame it on someone else. Where's Valerie?" 

"On the roof," he said, agonized with embarrassment at this awful 
misunderstanding, and now to add to it, his penis was rising again. "Really, 
Mrs. Harley. I just stuck my head in the front door and saw ... " 

"Get in here," she snapped, in the manner of an irate third grade 
schoolteacher. 

She stood aside and he slunk past her, helpless to do anything but obey. The 
room reeked of sex, adding to his unwanted excitement and confusion. The 
blonde girl was trying to sit up and cover her perfectly beautiful breasts, 
and Ronnie was standing with his arms crossed, looking menacing, but 
smiling. The slam of the door behind him made him leap. He turned, and he 
tried not to look directly at Sylvia as he spoke. He greatly feared the 
bulge in his pants was showing. 

"Honestly, Mrs. Harley, I just came down to get some lemonade and ... " 

"How much did you see?" 

"Nothing! Well, hardly anything ... Nelson and Sarah were watching you in 
here and I came down the hall to ... " 

"And Valerie is still up on the roof?" 

"Yes. Please let me explain, Mrs. Harley. I ... " 

"There's something I should explain to you first," she said, and taking him 
by the arm, turned him to face the bed again. The girl on it was sitting up 
now, with her legs tightly together and both hands across her breasts. She 
looked frightened, confused, and still very desirable. "This is my niece, 
Mary. She's got a problem, Robert, that we were trying to help ' her with; 
Mary is a nymphomaniac. Isn't that right, Mary?" 

The girl looked grieved, as if she was about to cry. She looked from Sylvia 
to Ronnie and back again, then nodded and hung her lovely head. Grabbing her 
by the hair, Sylvia pulled it upright again, forcing her to look up at the 
hugely embarrassed, yet totally fascinated young man. She looked to him as 
if she'd been drugged. 

"You like sex, don't you, Mary," said her aunt. "In any and all forms." 

"I ... I ... Yes." 

"You like to suck and fuck. Am I right?" 

She wet her swollen lips and murmured, "Suck and fuck. Yes." 

"And whether it's a man or a woman, you don't care." 

"Just you," she murmured. "And Ronnie." 

Sylvia shook the girl's head softly. "Come now, Mary. If you're a nympho, 
you'd do it with anyone. Even Robert here." 

"Listen," he said. "I don't want to have anything to do with ... " 

"You be quiet," Sylvia interrupted. "Mary, wouldn't you like Robert here to 
fuck you? Wouldn't you like him to kiss your pussy?" 

The dazed girl fidgeted uncomfortably on the bed, crossing her arms more 
tightly over her breasts. Her voice was very juvenile as she said, "No. 
Please. No more. At least not now." 

"Take off your clothes, Robert. She'll change her mind once she's seen you 
naked." 

"Really, I think I'd just better g-go." 

"And I think you'd better do as Sylvia says," said Ronnie from behind him, 
and laid a strong hand on Robert's shoulder. 

Sylvia released his arm. She picked up her robe, saying, "Ronnie, see that 
he undresses. I'm going to get another pitcher of bloody Mary's." 

Ronnie walked her to the door as she was slipping on the black velvet, and 
there in a low voice, he said, "Robert was probably telling the truth. 
Nelson is quite a voyeur, and I'm sure he was looking if the door was open." 

"We'll see," said Sylvia. "You get Mary and Robert acquainted. I'll be right 
back." She left the guest room with the robe unbuttoned. 

Ronnie turned and faced Robert. His voice was very even as he said, "Take 
off your clothes." 

"Ronnie, I just couldn't. I mean, if she's a nymphomaniac, she needs help, 
professional help, like from a doctor. I couldn't just ... " 

"You'd better take off your clothes, Robert. Like Sylvia said." 

Without clothes, Ronnie looked like a Greek wrestler, and he was 
considerably larger than Robert. Robert began unbuttoning his shirt as he 
stammered, "She doesn't want to and I don't want to. Valeria's my girl, and 
I'd never do anything unfaithful to her ... willingly." 

"I just want to take a nap," Mary groggily said, and her words had the 
effect of further deflating Robert's wilting penis. 

Ronnie was unyielding. He heard none of their arguments as he stood at the 
doorway. When at last Robert was as naked as the other two in the room, his 
genitals had all but shrunk up inside him from his embarrassment. 

"Now sit down beside her and say hello," Ronnie said, and Robert sat, legs 
crossed, elbows in his lap. 

"Hello," he said. He knew she was a nymphomaniac for she was the source of 
that sex smell that filled the room. He'd never dreamed nymphos could be so 
ravishingly beautiful. 

"Hullo," she replied. He seemed like a nice boy, despite the fact that he 
was naked. Under other circumstances, it might have been nice to meet him. 
But now, exhausted and confused, and uncertain of how she got into this 
state, Mary only wanted to be left alone. 

"Put your arm around her, Bob," Ronnie instructed. 

He did so as softly and gently as he could, apologizing with his eyes. With 
his other arm he still concealed his flaccid penis. Smooth as her warm skin 
was, it had a texture to it that he longed to explore with his fingers. 

The hand creeping across her shoulders sent a little shiver through Mary. 
She yawned and covered her mouth, not caring that this exposed one pink 
nipple. She wanted to rest her head on the young man's shoulder and go to 
sleep. 

"Kiss her, Bob. Get acquainted." 

"Ronnie, she doesn't want to!" 

Ronnie took two steps forward, and Mary turned her face to the man at her 
side. What did another kiss matter after all she'd been through, and why 
.was he reluctant? His lips were stiff and trembling, making her wish he 
could feel as relaxed as she was just then. If she obeyed Ronnie, maybe he'd 
let her sleep. That was all she wanted. That, and a chance to wash her sore 
vulva. 

He could definitely taste cunt on her lips, and that somehow stirred him as 
much as the soft fullness of her mouth. He felt as if he was performing in a 
stag film, though he knew he could never perform the ultimate act with his 
wilted penis. 

"Oh, come on. You're not playing Post Office. Open your mouths and kiss." 

Her tongue tasted even more strongly of pussy. He couldn't help but think of 
Sylvia's body, of her big, lovely tits, of her hot cunt, and of the wild 
things she had proved that she did with it all. His prick stirred. Odd to 
think of Sylvia with a delicious morsel like this at his disposal. Jesus, 
what would Valerie say if she could see him then? 

Automatically she sucked on his tongue. His arm about her shoulders had 
tightened, increasing her somnolence. She put her hand on his neck to draw 
him closer, in hopes this show of warmth would satisfy Ronnie and he'd then 
let her sleep. 

"That's it. Use your hands. You too, Bob. Feel her up. Get her going." 

He reached uncertainly for her arm, and laid his hand on her breast instead. 
Amazingly, it was just as firm as Valerie's little tittie, even though it 
was six times the size. He had to squeeze it, and when he did, she made a 
sleepy little moan and pushed herself harder against his hand. 

Mary wondered if her right tit had itched so before he'd touched it, but the 
thought was a fleeting one. She was still very sleepy, but now she was 
enjoying a dream in her waking sleep, one in which this gentle, timid young 
man-what was his name?-was the co-star. She ran her hand down from his neck 
and over his shoulder, then down his arm. Her elbow touched his prick, and 
when it did, she became very much aware of her cunt again. 

Their command performance had pumped enough life in Robert's penis so that 
it half hard when she touched it, and her touch brought it jerking to life. 
When she closed her soft hand around it and squeezed it, he drew her into 
his arms for a real, full-bodied kiss. Now he could feel the firmness of her 
tits with his chest, and the curvaceous contours of her hip and waist with 
his hand. He opened his eyes to make sure it was all real, and saw her as 
beautiful as an angel. It would take an effort to keep control of himself, 
to refrain from taking advantage of the girl, but he was resolved to do it. 

"You're doing fine, kids. You're really getting to know each other, just 
like Sylvia wanted. Keep it up." 

Mary felt like she could have kept it up forever. It was so peaceful and 
sweet like this, so nice and innocent compared to all the grunting and 
shoving and sweating of before. That had been very wrong, even if it had 
ended with indescribably good feelings, but this seemed right and good. 
There was a pleasant little itch in her brimful pussy that matched those in 
her tits, and she squeezed her thighs tightly together to try to enhance it. 
Was this man her fianc or her husband or what? She was all confused about 
relationships, but so relaxed and loving that it really didn't matter. 

Bob had made it with several girls, but never had it been anything like 
this. Those other times had been when they were partially clothed or in a 
rush, or both. Now he had a girl at his complete disposal, and a very 
special one at that. She was special not only because of her nymphomania, 
but also because she was so utterly beautiful. As much as he'd enjoyed women 
in the past, now he knew he'd never really appreciated them. This one felt 
every bit as good as she looked, and he was free to feel just as much of her 
as he wanted to. He could almost forget the presence of Ronnie, the director 
of this highly sensuous scene, as he explored Mary's back and buttocks and 
thighs with his hands, and her mouth and ears and throat and shoulders with 
his lips. He found himself thinking that if she was a nymphomaniac, one more 
screw wouldn't hurt her, and he found himself wishing that their director 
was the kind who would insist on his actors taking their time about things. 

Sylvia strode into the kitchen with her robe flowing back from her sides, 
and Nelson and Sarah, seated at the table over coffee, guiltily averted 
their heads. 

"Sarah," she said, "make a pitcher of Bloody Mary's for me, then make a 
pitcher of lemonade for Valerie. She's on the roof garden. Take it up to 
her." 

"Yes, ma'am," said the cook, and sidled past her, red-faced, her gaze 
flickering over her mistress' exposure. She went to the living room bar, 
while Nelson remained at the table, staring into his coffee. Sylvia counted 
to twenty before she spoke to him: 

"My husband tells me you're a voyeur. And Robert tells me you were spying on 
us in the bedroom. Is that true, Nelson?" 

He tugged at his collar, then looked sidelong at her with a very guilty 
smile on his face. "Everybody likes to look. And the door was open, so ... " 

His voice trailed off and he looked back at his cup. She counted to ten and 
said, "If you like to look, why aren't you looking at me?" 

His eyes opened wider and he turned toward her. His smile was genuine now as 
he stared at her. He started at her toes and went up, lingering at her 
loins, at her tits, at her face, then reviewing her tits and cunt. In a 
husky voice, he said, "You're about the best-lookin' woman I've ever seen." 

"Oh?" said she, opening the robe further by placing a hand on her hip. 
"Better looking than my niece?" 

"She's got something too, but ... you're a lot of woman." 

"Whom would you rather look at, me or them?" 

His eyes flickered and came back to her. He looked her over carefully and 
said, "Well ... what are they doing in there?" 

"Fucking. Sucking. Do you want to watch? Do you want to join in?" 

The chair scraped as he got to his feet. He said, "I'd sure like to watch, 
if it's okay with you. I don't know if I could ... join in. But I know of 
something you might could use. I'll go get it." 

As he left the kitchen, Sarah returned with the pitcher of strong, red 
drink. Sylvia almost snatched it from her, and drank thirstily from the lip 
of the pitcher. Sarah was looking at her worshipfully, and just before the 
dumpy cook scurried off, she blurted, "I'm workin' for the most beautiful 
woman in all the world." 

Sylvia was about to call after her, to thank her for the compliment and to 
ask her to join in furthering her niece's degradation, when Nelson returned. 
In his hand was a piece of white plastic which Sylvia recognized at once, 
having seen advertisements for these phallic-shaped vibrators in magazines. 

She smiled and took it from his hand, saying, "Yes, I'm sure Mary will just 
love this. What do you use it for?" 

"It's Sarah's," he said. "She frigs herself with it. I've watched." 

"Poor woman," said Sylvia, but that was all the time she had for sympathy, 
for she was now eager to get the device into operation. She headed for the 
guest room with Nelson right behind her. 

Chapter Eleven 

Bob was positively mad with passion for Mary by then, but frustratingly, 
Ronnie was now going far too slowly. He had the young people up on the bed 
on their knees, facing each other and kissing. It was terrifically exciting, 
but the trouble was that they were forbidden to use their hands. His 
throbbing prick against her soft belly was a delight, as was the feeling of 
her hardened nipples against his chest, but he longed with all his soul to 
get his hands on her hot body. Their kisses were nothing more than tongue 
tanglings, for both Mary and Bob were so hot they were panting through their 
open mouths. Thin wet lines tracked her tummy from the seminal fluid which 
oozed from his stiff prick, and he could feel the hot tracks left on his 
chest by her nipples. Her hands touched his hips and he reached for her. 

"Uh, uh, uh," Ronnie's voice said. "Hands are a no-no." 

Mary wanted to ask him why, but her tongue was too busily engaged in lapping 
at Bob's. She couldn't understand why she was being held back from the 
delights of the flesh which she now knew to exist, when before in her 
innocence those delights had been pressed upon her. All she could understand 
in her wonderful overheated condition was that there was a very ready man 
before her, and that if she was good, she could have him. Neither Bob nor 
Mary was aware of Sylvia and Nelson entering the room until Sylvia spoke. 

"Well done, Ronnie. The children seem to be getting along famously." 

Bob rolled his eyes in the direction of her voice to glare at her, but the 
presence of the leering chauffeur cowed him and brought back much of his 
former embarrassment. His excitement, however, was enough to overcome it and 
keep him hungrily licking at Mary's tongue. Mary didn't recognize Nelson at 
first, but she did recognize the beautiful brunette who was either her 
destroyer or her benefactor. At the moment, it seemed as if Sylvia was her 
benefactor, but that might change at any moment. She was thrilled when Bob, 
in defiance of Ronnie, threw his arms about her and kissed her very 
strongly. Then she was thoroughly disappointed when he released her abruptly 
and spoke angrily to her aunt. 

"This is torture, you know. Why are you doing this to us? How are you doing 
this to us?" 

She sauntered forward, shrugging the robe off her marble-white shoulders as 
she came. She did not even deign to answer him, but taking his cock in her 
hand, said to Mary, "Do you want this in you?" 

The girl nodded nervously, hungrily eyeing his throbbing prick, and with one 
hand she rubbed her aching twat. 

"You may have it then," said Sylvia, and as Mary eagerly squatted on the 
bed, she added, "in your mouth." 

"Please, Sylvia," she said, trying not to look at the young, hard prick 
being stroked by her aunt's hand. "Can't I have it in here?" 

The imperious brunette smiled down at her disheveled niece and shook her 
head. Mary sighed and came forward on hands and knees to take Bob's cock 
between her kiss-bruised lips. 

Valerie had kissed his cock before, or had tried to, and he'd always put her 
off. Up until that moment, he'd thought of fellatio as something dirty when 
performed by a date, and as something very special, something to be saved 
until after marriage to a thoroughly compatible and thoroughly loving 
couple. Now it felt so terrific and it looked so terrific that he found 
himself slowly thrusting his hips forward, as if he was fucking those lovely 
pink lips. His balls swung heavily with each of his thrusts, and he had to 
strain to hold back from ejaculating. 

Sylvia walked on her knees to Mary's side. She snapped her fingers at her 
husband, who handed her a white plastic object, and the end of this she ran 
down Mary's curved spine. Bob could hear the buzzing sound it made and could 
see the gooseflesh it was raising on the girl's back as she sucked his cock 
on hands and knees, and tried vainly to look back over her shoulder to see 
the device. When the bluntly tapered end of it disappeared in the crack of 
her lovely ass, she squealed and rocked forward, taking Bob's cock as deeply 
in her mouth as it would go, and when she grasped its shaft for support, he 
began to shoot. 

"Can't hold back! I can't!" 

"MMM! MMMM!" 

He knew she wanted to get away from it, though she still kept sucking. 
Desperate to feel more of this most sensuous of climaxes, he reached down 
and held her where she was by her hair. Still it came, the joy so intense 
now as to border on pain, and Bob tore at his own hair rather than jerk her 
head away from it. Over his pantings he could hear her gulpings as his hot 
sperm poured down her throat. He could hear the breath whistling through her 
nostrils too, and the sound of the vibrating plastic as it was pushed into 
her wet hole. At last she gave up his cock. 

Her beautiful body strained and arched, and she clutched at the bit of white 
plastic that protruded from her cunt as she fell over on her back. Legs 
lewdly splayed, knees drawn up to her tits, she presented the picture of 
obscene, mindless, animal sex as she fucked herself with the plastic 
phallus. Bob, his prick still dripping, was disgusted with what he saw. 

He would have turned away, but Sylvia stopped him with a cool hand that 
cupped his overly warm genitals. "Look at her," she said. "What a pig. She 
can get her satisfaction from a dildo, but I'm a real woman. I need this." 

"Some other time," he sarcastically said. "I've got to get back to Valerie. 
Lord knows what I'm going to tell her." 

"I've taken care of that," she said, advancing on her knees, grazing his 
chest with her nipples. "Now I want you to take care of me." 

It was something he'd often guiltily dreamed of, and even now in his spent 
condition the idea was exciting. "I'm not exactly ... ready," he said, 
though already he could feel some faint stirrings in his cock. "And I 
couldn't with ... with them watching." 

She smiled at her husband and chauffeur, and she said, "Oh, they don't mind. 
Anything I do is all right with them. And Mary will get you hard again, 
while you get me nice and ready." 

"What do you mean?" he asked, and she quickly showed him. 

She had him get down on his hands and knees with his loins over the 
frantically orgasming girl's face, his swollen prick dangling down. Sylvia 
then lay down on her back before him, her legs spread out, her pussy that 
had been perfected by the hands of surgeons spread out before him. 

Bob had never eaten pussy before. He felt the same way toward cunnilingus as 
he did toward fellatio. But now it seemed he had no choice, and when Sylvia 
grasped him by the hair, he took a deep breath and began kissing the hot, 
livid flesh that had been presented to him. 

The smell and taste of it raised the hackles on his neck, just as his prick 
was rising in the warmth of Mary's vigorously sucking mouth. Even before his 
prick was fully hard, he was aching to put it into Sylvia's cunt, and to 
install the same eagerness in her, he began using his tongue as well as his 
lips in her cunt. 

"Ahhh. Ohhh. Yesss." She panted encouragement, though little was necessary 
beyond the increasing contortions of her lovely body. 

"Mmmph! MMMMMPHHH!" Mary was trying to devour his prick. It was deep in her 
throat one moment, then the knob of it was being sucked by her lips the 
next. 

Never had Bob been so terrifically aroused. Never had he felt anything quite 
so good. He'd come only minutes before, and now he was quite stiff and ready 
enough to do it again. But a mouth was no place in which to do it. He had 
already shot copiously in Mary's mouth, and now he had to feel the clinging 
wet warmth of a cunt before he would do it again. 

Surging with vitality and virility, he shoved Sylvia aside and pulled 
himself away from the orgasming blonde girl. He snatched the vibrating dildo 
from her cunt, even though her grip was strong on it, and in a trice he had 
fallen on her and was thrusting his hard tool up between her legs. 

"Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!" she cried, blindly groping for his throbbing 
organ. 

"That's mine! You get away from her!" Sylvia shouted, and struggling to her 
knees, began to beat on his back with her fists. 

He scarcely felt her blows, for between the efforts of Mary and himself, his 
prick slid into her tight but highly lubricated cunt. Her frantic flailings 
stopped. An inch from his face, her eyes and mouth opened wide, and she 
looked in wonder at him as he hung panting and motionless over her, his 
prick soaking in her cunt, his eyes feasting on what had to be the most 
.beautiful woman in all the world. 

Still Sylvia beat at his back, and she would have continued had not Ronnie 
intervened. Grabbing her by the wrists, he jerked her off the-bed and flung 
her down on the floor. His prick was up again, and now his temper was also, 
and when she began to vituperate at him, he swung a heavy hand and slapped 
her across the face. 

"You ... you struck me!" she said. 

"Damn right. And I'll do it again unless you leave them alone and pay 
attention to me, your husband!" 

Bob and Mary didn't even hear them. He still lay atop her, and now her arms 
and legs were softly around his very slowly moving body. He was exploring 
the depths of her cunt with his prick, while she in turn was clasping the 
contours of his organ with her vagina and finding for herself that it was a 
perfect fit. 

"Baby, baby. You're so pretty," he murmured. 

"Oh, and you feel so nice," she replied. 

Fuming, Sylvia tried to get to her feet, and once again Ronnie slapped her 
down. 

"I'll kill you for this!" she spluttered. "I'll divorce you and throw you 
out in the street without a penny." 

"Maybe so, but you won't torment that girl any more, and by God, before you 
throw me out I'll fuck you the way you should be fucked-good and hard." 

Mary was soiled and sex-drenched. She'd been handled by too many people that 
day and she was very probably a nymphomaniac. Still and all, at the moment 
she was the sweetest woman Bob had ever seen, and she was feeling sweeter by 
the moment. A beatific calm had come over her face, tinged with a smile, and 
each slow stroke of his organ in her twitching cunt brought more of the look 
of the angel to her face. 

"I feel like I'm going from a nightmare to a lovely, lovely dream," she 
said. "Are you real? Is this real?" 

"No, dear," he said, slowly stroking, deeply stroking. "We're in heaven." 

On the floor, Sylvia tried to attack Ronnie with her nails. He caught her 
wrists, laughing at her, making her more furious than ever. He held her 
while she struggled and spat out curse words at him, and her frustrated 
anger had the effect of exciting him all the more. 

"I warned you!" she said, trying to kick him now. "I won't stand to be 
treated this way. Get out of my house. Out! Now!" 

"I'll leave when I'm good and ready. I'll leave when I've fucked your royal 
cunt ragged." 

"You'll never so much as touch me there again!" she cried, and her fury was 
unbridled as she struggled vainly in his strong grip. 

"Fine with me," he said, still laughing in her face. "Nelson, give me a 
hand. Hold her down. On her stomach." 

Nelson was already beside himself with excitement. Eyes bulging out, rubbing 
at his crotch, he'd been swiveling his head back and forth from the scene on 
the bed to that on the floor. Now, over the shrieking protests of his 
mistress, he knelt and helped Ronnie turn her over on her stomach, and 
following the naked man's instructions, he twisted Sylvia's smooth white arm 
up behind her back. 

Her fury was growing. If there was anything she detested, it was being 
fucked doggy-style, and Ronnie was well aware of that. The pain in her 
shoulder, however, was such that she had to submit. All she could do was 
threaten both Nelson and Ronnie as she assumed the humiliating position of 
her naturally perfect ass being elevated in the air while her surgically 
beautified face and tits were mashed against the shag rug. 

"I'll kill you both. I'll see you both in jail for this. Nelson, don't you 
dare touch my breast like that! Ronnie, make him stop! Oh, I hate you. I 
hate you! Eeek!" 

She yelped as Ronnie roughly shoved three fingers in her cunt from behind, 
and this defiance of her commands emboldened the lustful Nelson to further 
explore her tits with his hand. Her yelps became screeches as Ronnie 
withdrew his fingers and poked them one after another in her anus. 

"I wish they'd be a little more quiet," Bob murmured against Mary's sweet 
lips. 

"Mmmm. All I can hear is the sound of your heart beating against mine," she 
said. 

There was real frenzy in Sylvia's struggles now, for the big blunt end of 
Ronnie's cock had replaced his fingers in poking at her tightly constricted 
anus. He was holding her firmly by the buttocks so that she couldn't fully 
twist away, and parting those big, fleshy globes with his thumbs so that her 
only defense now was the tightening of her sphincter and her words. She 
resorted to pleading. 

"Ronnie, darling, stop it now. This has gone far enough, and if you stop now 
I won't be angry with you. I promise. Ronnie, don't! Oh please, Ronnie. 
You've carried the joke too far now. Just stop now and we'll have a lovely 
fuck, a wonderful fuck in the normal way, and I won't torment Mary any more. 
Nelson, Til give you a raise if you'll help me instead of him. Darling 
Ronnie, I ... OW! Goddamn it, that hurts! YOWWWW! JESUS CHRIST, YOU'RE 
TEARING ME! RONNIE, STOP! STOP THAT THIS INST ... YEEEEEK!" 

Ronnie uttered a guttural grunt of satisfaction as he saw the bulbous head 
of his cock disappear within the very tight orifice which he had laid bare 
with his thumbs. It had been a tightly puckered little mouth before, but now 
its thin lips were stretched to the breaking point around the sturdy shaft 
which had penetrated it. 

"IT'S KILLING ME! I CAN FEEL MYSELF TEARING!" 

"Try to relax then," he told her, and delving with his fingers in her cunts 
he smeared a little more of her natural lubrication on the long shaft that 
was poised to follow the head of his cock into her super-tight asshole. Her 
cries changed to moans and her lovely body shuddered and quivered everywhere 
as he worked another two inches of his big, bludgeon-like rod into her lily 
-white behind. He had to rest a moment then, for the sight of his cock that 
deeply embedded between those big white ovals was such that his head was 
swimming with the thoughts of a fast, hard ejaculation. 

On the bed, still moving very slowly, Bob said, "I feel as if I've never 
really been inside a woman before." 

"And I feel like I'm a virgin again. It's all so pure." 

Even in this blissful state, he found that he could chuckle. "You're not 
acting much like a nympho now." 

"I'm not acting like anything. I'm just feeling good, all over." 

They extended their lips and joined them, slowly tangling tongues, and their 
explorations of each other's bodies with their hands were almost reverent. 
He was no longer stroking in her cunt, but merely moving his hips on top of 
hers to stir her inner organs with his hard shaft, and she was responding by 
squeezing it rhythmically with vaginal muscles she had hitherto been unaware 
of. 

"NOOOO!" Sylvia screamed, though it was too late. 

"Yeahhh," Ronnie rasped, as he burrowed and shoved and got his big cock 
through that tight hole until his hairy pubic mound was closely snuggled 
into the open crack of her ass. 

"Bastard. You bastard," she panted, close to tears. 

"I told you to relax. But if you don't, that's entirely up to you." 

"Filthy, dirty, cock-sucking sonofabitch!" 

"Ugh," said Mary. "I hate to hear people curse." 

"You'd hear less of it," Bob said, "if I tickled your ear with my tongue." 

"Oooo. Oooo. That does tickle nicely." 

"Mmm. And I can still look at you. You know, you've got a lovely profile." 

"SODOMIST! QUEER!" Sylvia cried, struggling anew, though the pain in her 
shoulder was nearly as blinding as that in her rear. "YOU'LL GO TO JAIL FOR 
THIS, YOU ROTTEN, ROTTEN BASTARD!" 

"Coming out now," he said, and began a slow, laborious withdrawal of his 
tightly clasped organ. 

"No, wait, Ronnie," she gasped. "Ronnie, wait just a second, I'm not ready. 
Ronnie wait! RONNIE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WAIT! YOU'RE PULLING ME APART, YOU 
BASTARD! RONNIE! AAAAARRRRRGGGH! Oh. Oh. Oh." 

It did indeed look as if something would give way as he pulled out his cock 
to the knob, but the sight of her asshole stretched back even farther was 
such that he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was fascinating to see how 
it pushed inward, along with the thick, glistening, shit-streaked shaft of 
his cock. 

"Not again. Oh, not again," she moaned, and he relentlessly shoved forward, 
digging his fingers deeper into her ass-cheeks, oblivious to her pleas. 
"I'll hate you forever for the ... Ooooggh Aarrrgggh. Won't it ever stop!?! 
BASTARD! Oh, you dirty, dirty bastard ... " 

Bob said to Mary, "We should go in the other room." 

"I can't even hear them," she said with a smile, caressing his cheek with 
her hand, his buttocks with her heels. "And I don't ever want to move from 
this bed." 

Sylvia at last did relax as Ronnie again began withdrawing his cock. More 
correctly, she fell into a sort of a swoon. Her body went limp, and much of 
the fierce tightness around Ronnie's moving prick was gone, though still the 
orifice was considerably tighter and hotter than that other one of hers that 
he'd labored in so frequently. Now his hands ' no longer contained her 
struggles, but merely served to hold her in that obscene position, with her 
ass on a level with his cock as he knelt behind her, with her weight on her 
knees and tits and face. With the loosening of her sphincter, he began to 
move more strongly, and with this, she made it known that she was still 
conscious. 

"Just take it easy on me, Ronnie." Her voice was very weak. "Go slow, but 
hurry up and get it over with." 

"I think you can let go of her arm now, Nelson," he said. "Thanks much." 

"Any time," said the chauffeur, and sat back on his haunches, glad for the 
opportunity to get his hand on his crotch again. He had a ringside seat for 
two sexual performances, and he was in his glory. Bob and Mary were barely 
moving. They looked like some highly erotic sculpture, done by the hand of a 
master. Sylvia's body was only moving from Ronnie's deep thrusts, rocking 
back and forth with them, distorting her face against the rug. The only one 
who was really active in the quartet was Ronnie, busily sawing his cock back 
and forth through that thoroughly distended hole, and grinning lustfully 
down at what he was doing. The scene was almost peaceful, until Sarah came 
bursting into the room. 

"Miss Sylvia! Miss Sylvia! I found Valerie up on the roof doing terrible 
things in front of a bunch of children and she says you won't ... Good 
gracious! What's he doing to you?" 

The cook swayed back on her heels, then lunged forward at Ronnie, with both 
fists swinging. She landed a blow on his shoulder, shrieking for him to 
stop, stop, and he gave her a clout on the side of the head that sent her 
sprawling over Sylvia to land on the floor in a flurry of skirts. 

Kicking, trying to get up, she cried, "Don't do that to her! That isn't 
right! You're hurting her!" 

Sylvia raised up on her elbows, then her hands. Sarah was right in front of 
her with her fat legs outspread, with her hairy old cunt bared. "You shut 
up," Sylvia panted. "I'm getting to like it. Faster, Ronnie. Deeper." 

"I'm doing this my way," he said, and leaning forward, he shoved his wife's 
face down in the hairy crotch before it. He only had to hold it there for a 
few seconds before she was eating the cook's pussy with gusto, and then he 
resumed the heavy thrusting in her ass. 

"Oh! Oh! I'm in heaven!" Sarah squealed, and managed to get her bulky hips 
up off the floor. "I love you, Miss Sylvia! I've always loved you! Oh! 

"Shut her up, Nelson," Ronnie snarled. "Stick something in her mouth. That's 
an order." 

Nelson grinned and shrugged. His diminutive cock was already out of his 
pants, and it bobbed jerkily as he went around and straddled the squealing 
cook's body. She tried to twist her head away from it, tried to scream, but 
he held her firm and stuffed all of it in her mouth. In moments she was 
sucking as ardently as her mistress was, and all that could be heard was 
Ronnie's grunts and the slurpings of the two females on the floor. 

"Did you hear what she said?" Mary whispered. 

"That she's in heaven?" said Bob. "Well, so am I." 

"She said something else, too. She said ... I love you." 

"I can say that too, Mary. I love you. The difference is, I'll love you even 
after this is over." 

"And I love you, I think. But ... it won't be over when this is over?" 

"Gonna find out pretty quick," he said, panting now. "Just can't hold back 
any more." 

"Don't! Oh, don't!" she cried, and as a great surge of very vital energy 
poured through her, she threw her lovely body up to meet his thrusts. 

Their mouths merged and locked. His balls slapped wetly against her bottom. 
She no longer had to think about contracting her vaginal muscles about his 
moving prick, for they did it of their own accord now, and with each of the 
contractions, his prick throbbed and swelled strongly in her tube. 

"Look," Nelson panted. "On the bed. They're really cumming!" 

Ronnie could in no way look away from the place where he and his wife were 
joined. He could only grunt, "Me too!" Sylvia's beautiful big buttocks were 
contorting wildly now, not in the least trying to escape from the pounding 
she was taking, but instead trying wildly for more. 

"MMMPH! MMMPH!" Her cries against Sarah's big cunt made it clear that she 
too was orgasming, and for further proof of this, Ronnie reached down and 
found that her empty cunt was pulsing very strongly and overflowing with 
juices. 

Sarah was all but tearing Sylvia's hair out in an entirely unnecessary 
attempt to hold it against her cunt, and the very agile undulations of her 
fat body were indicative of her orgasmic bliss as well. 

"Uff! Oh, baby!" Nelson grunted, and his balls twitched up toward his body 
and his buttocks jerked spasmodically as he ejaculated in Sarah ; willing 
mouth. 

It was like a chain reaction, started by Bob and Mary, and ended by them. 
The young couple were the first to wilt in each other's arms, and as they 
did, Mary spoke in a fluttery, breathless voice. 

"Robert, you are wonderful. But now that it's over ... ?" 

"Mary, it will never be over with us." 

"Mmm. You are so sweet. But do you still ... well ... I guess it isn't fair 
for me to ask." 

"You shouldn't have to, dear. But the answer is yes, I still love you." 

"And I love you, dear." 

Chapter Twelve 

The occasion of Mary Kilbourne's eighteenth birthday was well-attended. 
Nelson had set up two tables on the terrace, and Sarah had laden them 
heavily. Ronnie presided over the smaller of the two tables, with Sylvia on 
his right hand and Mary on his left. Next to Sylvia sat Mr. Nestor, the 
family attorney, and next to Mary sat Robert. Valerie sat at one end of the 
larger table, with Nelson at its other end to help her keep a semblance of 
order among the dozen or so children who lined its sides. Jeff and Jimmy sat 
at each of Valerie's sides. She was wearing a see-through blouse and no bra, 
and although Sylvia disapproved of this, and of the way the two boys at her 
sides were frankly ogling her, she made no mention of it. 

Valerie's table was a little too rowdy for Sylvia's tastes as well, with one 
child after another dropping silverware and having to climb under the table 
to retrieve it. Still, she said nothing, having learned of late that it was 
best to defer to the judgment of her husband. 

Sarah had served a nice luncheon. A Caesar salad, cold poached salmon, and 
asparagus with Hollandaise sauce for the table where the grown-ups sat, and 
potato salad and hot dogs for the other. The children's table had pitchers 
of root beer on it, and the adult's table had a bottle of chilled French 
champagne. Valerie and Nelson, however, were drinking champagne, and Mary 
and Sylvia had glasses of root beer before them. 

Mr. Nestor was speaking: 

"This is a momentous birthday for you, Mary, for it not only marks the start 
of your adult life, it also begins your life as an extremely wealthy young 
woman. I've been working with your probate attorneys in Indiana as well as 
with Ronald and Sylvia Greaves, and ... By the way, Ron. The papers came 
through this morning. Sylvia now legally bears your name." 

"Good," said the handsome young man at the head of the table, and reached 
for his glass of champagne. Sylvia reached for her root beer, smiling 
radiantly at him. Stealthily, her hand went past the mug and closed about 
the stem of Mr. Nestor's wine glass. She'd almost succeeded in bringing it 
to her lips when Sarah leaned over her shoulder, her big, soft breasts 
pressed against her mistress' back. 

She took the glass away, saying, "Now, now, Sylvia. Root beer for you. We 
know what's best for you." 

Sylvia smiled over her shoulder at the cook and reached down to fondle hex 
plump leg. She sighed and said, "Yes. You're right, dear." She picked up the 
root beer and touched glasses with her husband before they drank. Mr. Nestor 
went on: "Your parents' farm has been sold and we got a good price for it, 
Mary. And ..." 

"The farm? Sold?" 

"Oh, yes. It's no place for a young girl like you," said Ronnie. "You need 
an education, and New York is the place to get it." 

"But I'm already planning on enrolling with Robert in the fall semester. The 
farm is sold?" 

"Yes," said the attorney, waving an envelope. "And we got a good price for 
it. Four hundred thousand dollars." She sat back in her chair, 
flabbergasted, as he handed her the envelope. He said, "After inheritance 
taxes, the amount was reduced to a hundred eighty thousand and some odd 
dollars. But through the kindness and wisdom of your aunt and uncle, this 
was reinvested in a real estate loan, so that check in your hand is for a 
nice, round quarter of a million dollars." 

"A quarter of a million!" she exclaimed, looking from Ronnie to Sylvia to 
Robert. "Oh, Aunt Sylvia! Ronnie, how can I ever thank you?" 

"Don't thank me," Sylvia muttered through clenched teeth, and tried again 
for Mr. Nestor's wine glass. 

This time it was Ronnie who stopped her. He reached down and pinched her 
ass, then gave it a loving pat. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, and 
her smile was as sweet as Mary's as she said to her niece, "You're more than 
welcome, dear. It was a pleasure, all the way." 

"And here's another birthday present for you," said Ronnie, and tossed her a 
ring of keys. "The Rolls is yours now, Mary. I've finally convinced Sylvia 
that we need a Ferrari. 

As she was thanking him, Sarah returned with two brightly-wrapped packages 
and placed them before her. She whispered in Mary's ear, "The long skinny 
one is from me. Maybe you shouldn't open it in front of Mr. Nestor. It's one 
of them vibrators, for when you get lonely." 

The blushing girl thanked her and opened Nelson's present. It was a pair of 
binoculars. She called her thanks across the terrace to him. With a hot dog 
in hand, he waved back at her, and in doing so, dropped his fork and bent 
under the table to retrieve it. 

From the other end of the table, a flushed and smiling Valerie said, "I'm 
sorry, Mary. I've been so busy with the children's summer recreation thing 
I'm setting up that I didn't have a chance to get you anything for your 
birthday." Jeff and Jimmy were gone from her sides, and the table was moving 
slightly, as if it was being used for a sance. "All I've got to offer you 
is some advice on all that money you've got now. The advice is spend, spend, 
SPEND!" she cried, holding her glass on high, then slumping down halfway 
under the table. 

Robert took a small, beribboned package from his pocket, cleared his throat, 
and said, "I got this for you, dear. I hope it fits." 

She opened it and beheld half a carat of flawless diamond, set in platinum. 
She slipped it on her third finger, left hand, and as she admired it through 
dewy eyes, her right hand went to his lap. She said, "Robert, darling, 
everything you have for me always fits just perfectly." 


End
