His Degraded Daughter
by Carolyn Hunt


FOREWORD 

There is something infinitely touching in civilized man's-and woman's, too, 
of course-trying to find a way to propitiate his jealous gods with clean 
living, and still retain his God-given sexuality, his mysterious, 
infallible, unquenchable urge to procreate. 

Especially is this true of the Western world, where some deep-running sense 
of guilt always seems to be the third partner in any bedroom activities. It 
is as though man had an enemy within, a counter instinct which keeps on 
clamoring that immorality and the human genitalia are bound together. 

Even in a presumably enlightened era, when the once "younger" generation led 
what they believed to be a sexual revolution, and when women equate their 
liberation with the right to enjoy sex without sanction, there are still 
millions who shudder at such ideas. Sex with marriage? They can't stand the 
thought. And yet, many of them think it is perfectly moral to have marriage 
without sex, and even think of such a cruel anomaly as being, somehow, very 
upright. 

And yet, as a very wise old woman once said, speaking of sex: "They can 
preach and pray against it, they can make terrible jokes about it, they can 
even legislate against a lot of it, and families can ban any talk of it-but 
they have never made it unpopular!" 

This is because, while bloodless puritans and their hypocritical 
puppets-in-office may set the rules, they do not rule the healthy minded. 
For every restraining action, there is a liberating reaction. And many of 
these, we as publishers are proud to say, are writers and book sellers. Even 
in the Tortured Twenties, when that beautiful book, JURGEN, as "banned in 
Boston," and when this nation turned its back on ULYSSES, the ink-stained 
wretches got in blow after blow. 

Warwick Deeping, a romantic novelist of the times, created a thought 
provoking paradox when, speaking of a couple who, in the language of the 
day, had fallen into a pit sin, he wrote: "Even those who try to love only 
with their souls are eventually trapped into their natural destiny. Souls 
are so lonely; bodies are not." 

Thank God-and also a change for the better in the public moral outlook, 
which is reflected in the courts-the literature of love lives in a warmer, 
happier climate. 

This human novel by Carolyn Hunt is a case in point. No scarecrow of fake 
morality, no gibbering false-face crying "Taboo! Taboo!" against natural-if 
somewhat unusual-love, could keep these warm blooded people apart. 

The young girl, hesitating on the threshold of maturity, her loving 
stepfather, wanting only to help the child-at first, that is-even the hurt 
and angry mother, all found themselves finer and stronger for being refined 
in this extra-hot crucible of love and understanding. 

Miss Hunt, who has given our readers so many excellent examples of the 
daring modern novel, has done it again! 

-The Publisher 

 Chapter One 

There are very few truly rare days in any woman's life. Women are less 
easily deceived by the false face of luck than men are. They have, as a sex, 
a sort of wariness toward all things. Even when it seems that the fates and 
the fairies are showering them with the world's goodies, they are slow to 
respond fully. 

But with Connie Haire, waking up in her big, comfortable bed on this sunny 
morning, with her tall, good looking husband lying so near her glowingly 
mature body, something was happening that was starting this day out on a 
perfect note. There was a zest in her loins, a warmth, a feeling of life and 
fullness in her cunt, that seemed to come to a pinpoint of fire as his big, 
smooth hand slid boldly between her generously molded thighs, touching her 
in the warmest, most loving parts of her blood-heated twat. What a lover 
Dick was! And she was enjoying it all the more, these days, for a secret 
reason which even Dick didn't know. There was a touch of sadness in these 
moments of high heat, of throbbing fuck-fests, that gave them an added 
intensity. To Connie, at least. And it was something she couldn't share. Not 
now, at least. Maybe, some day. But for now, she opened her thighs to let 
him have free access to their smooth warmth, and moaned as his big finger 
slipped with hard precision into her juicy, quivering vagina. 

"Dick," she whispered. "Dick, my dear, my love! OHHHHHH! That feels so good! 
Oh, Dick, how did you know I needed fucking so badly? OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OH, 
BABY! Can you feel what's happening inside of me?" 

Her fluttering vaginal muscles, slobbered and richly slick with their 
coating of cunt juice, nibbled delightfully at his fingers, and he could not 
help squirming and shoving against her as his cock swelled in its own 
knowledge of how suckingly sweet those muscles felt in all its sensitive 
length. When it got shoved in. And Dick and his cock knew it would be soon. 

"My dear," he whispered, his nose rooting in the fragrant, softly haired 
armpit right at his face, "roll a little! Ahhh! That's it! Oh, my God! What 
tits! Like big pillows of warmth and feeling!" 

She loved her husband. Even with her secret knowledge of just what kind of 
man he was, she loved him. That hard, hot organ pressed between her 
buttocks, touching the sensitive ring of her asshole, was hers, and would 
always be hers. She wanted it now, with a deep and painful ache in her 
superheated fuck sheath, squirming in its darkness, leaking out the clear, 
hot female flow that corresponds to a man's thick, opalescent jism. Very 
gently, and with practiced hand, she reached over her big hip, felt for the 
hard pole cased in its soft, thick skin, and softly frigged up and down, her 
longest fingers touching the big balls drawn up against it. 

Her husband had a big hand full of her glowing, tingling breast, her big, 
dark nipple sticking out between his finger and thumb. He was gripping it 
with torturing strength, just short of making her scream in pain, and the 
brutality of his loving was sending streaks of sex fire shooting down 
through her heaving, sweating belly, onto the fat, thickly haired cunt lips, 
jerking her hardened clit into knots of expectancy and fuck fever. 

She threw her full fashioned body around and against her husband, moaning 
with a deep intensity as her open mouth found his. "Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm! 
Mmmmmmm!" her heated throat sang as her thick, strong tongue wrapped hotly 
around his, her warm, sweated belly working anxiously, hungrily against 
Dick. She threw one big thigh over his loins, and reached down between them, 
her hand seeking his rock-hard prick just as her dribbling cunt lips seemed 
to seek it blindly. His tongue moved stabbingly in and out of her mouth, 
penetrating as hotly as his penis would do in a second or two, and he had 
his big hands behind her, digging into the humid trench between her firm 
buttocks, jabbing into her to get the feel of her slickly oozing cunt, her 
puckered asshole so thickly coated with the loving slime that squeezed out 
between the clutching cunt lips. 

She had a bright, rankly beautiful picture in her mind as she blindly sucked 
her husband's tongue-of her thick cunt lips parting to show their coral pink 
inner surfaces, the fat, blood filled inner lips shining with her cuntal 
oils, and his broad, shining cockhead rubbing between them, seeking the 
clasping hold at the base of her long slit. In the intensity of this moment, 
she had a strange flicker of the secret flame which was making this entire 
act even hotter, even better, and she hugged Dick's muscular body against 
her, the cruel smashing of her big, soft breasts giving her a lancing jolt 
of orgasmic joy right down the center line of her cunt. 

Her husband pulled his mouth from hers, his face flushed and intent, his 
eyes glazed with the stormy joy of fucking. It was all there, her gorgeous 
ass squeezed in his hands, his fingers slipping in her cunt's flow, the 
sweetness of her mouth on his, her pillowy breasts smashed between them, the 
smell of cunt clogging his nostrils. 

"You're so good to fuck, baby," he choked. "So good to suck or fuck. I wish 
I had six cocks, a dozen balls, twenty hands, so I could enjoy all of you, 
all ways, all at once!" 

He bent his back and rooted into the garnet nest of hair under her arms, 
swept his rasping cheeks across the tenderness of her breasts, sucking in a 
big, hard grained nipple with such force that she screamed in the wrenching 
joy of fuck pains. 

His poet's words echoed in the heated chambers of her mind, her loving body 
sweeping all its throbbing strength against him. She knew it was stupid to 
give everything in one burst of fire and sweetness, but she needed the 
explosion of sex deep inside her, needed the release which only orgasm could 
bring her straining, aching cunt. 

"Fuck me!" she cried. "Oh, Dick, put it in me! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! I have to 
cum, baby! I HAVE TO CUM!" And for that split second, she forgot that 
central thought in her mind, that hard core of anger and spite that made 
getting his jism all the sweeter. 

But he held his loins above her, the blood-swollen head of his prick not 
quite into the ring of slick, pink muscle that closed her cunt away from the 
world. His pressure continued, his teeth raked the blue-veined whiteness of 
her full breasts as he ferociously sucked the nipple deep into his mouth, 
and she thought that her pussy would turn itself inside out in her need to 
enfold his cock. 

He loved this teasing, loved to make his wife beg for his dick. This was a 
part of what made her such a marvelous, hotly responsive piece of 
fuck-pleasure. And, to his pride, part of what made him a good lay for her, 
a good man to ride in the hollowed out saddle of her thighs as she 
unconsciously raised her strong legs to push her cuntal spread up to him. 
Thick, slobbering lips, a petaled rosette of pink flesh made darker by the 
scarlet blood that swelled in surface veins. A tiny clutch of bubbly pink 
membrane that made kissing movements like a baby's rosebud mouth. Behind 
them, the aperture that opened into her hot body, the portal to her clasping 
vagina with its wealth of woman juice making it hot and slippery. By now, in 
fact, she would have squeezed so much of this clear cunt nectar from her 
furred lips that the entire crack of her ass, clear to the tip of the spine, 
was a gooey, warm surface that was almost like the inner darkness of her 
pussy. 

He could hear her screaming above his head as he chewed on her nipple and 
teased her clutching split with his cock, and for a brilliantly happy 
second, he thought about their daughter and wondered how much of this she 
was hearing. Or perhaps seeing. In any case, enjoying. For he knew she would 
enjoy it, even while she hated it. Hated him for fucking her mother, for 
driving that huge stake of hard meat into the tender, delicate, hungering 
flesh of Connie's cunt. 

Her daughter. His stepdaughter. Although he had adopted her so many years 
ago, when she was only a year old, and had truly been her father ever since. 
In name and in feelings, for he loved her and she loved him. Always had. 
Always would. And, poised above the warmly loving child's mother, thinking 
of the slickness and tightness of this thick-lipped, mature cunt, he could 
see in his mind that very, very young cunt, as he had seen it for twelve 
years. 

Some flash of inspiration touched Connie Haire's mind, some mystic, 
prescient assurance that this was fuck time. 

Her powerful legs swept higher, capturing her husband's powerful body, her 
heels locked just above the crack of his ass. Just at the exact spot to give 
her the leverage she needed. And his hard peter was a half-inch deeper into 
her. Teasing time had run out, this was the cock-skinning, cunt-stretching 
moment of truth. 

"Oh, GOD! GOD, GOD! GET IT, BABY! BANG IT TO ME, BABY!" the man screamed. He 
thought in one microscopic flash of his young stepdaughter, his daughter, 
really, as much as if she were truly his own flesh and blood. Of her 
softness and warmth, all of which had come out of this strong woman he was 
fucking, had nursed at those same nipples he had chewed almost to the blood 
point. 

He felt the pressure of his big cock push back the shouldered softness of 
his wife's inner cunt, felt it hang for a second in spite of her abundance 
of pussy juice. There was the great painful joy of having his covering cock 
skin rolled back by the toothless mouth of Connie's close, hot meat. He 
banged into the slick, dark hardness of her womb's mouth, hearing her shout 
against his head as he continued to suck fiercely on her titty. 

"Oh, God, you're hot and sweet, baby," he gasped around the hard nipple. 
"Ahhhhhh! FUCK ME!" And he ploughed into her with all his strength, feeling 
the slick, wet heat of her clasping muscles sucking at his cock in a glory 
that had been made possible by the long, teasing build up. 

Now they were fucking in a strong, easy rhythm, taking long strokes that 
started when the head of his prick was pulled out to her streaming opening, 
and that slid into her tightness with increasing speed until he struck the 
hard, quivering womb, plunged past it, and brought up with a jarring, dull 
shock as he reached the closed end of her vagina. 

"You're hitting my gut!" Connie gritted through her teeth and then her 
scream rang loud and clear: "You're hurting me, precious! You're into me 
tooooooddeeeeep! OHHHHHH! HOW GOOD! HURT ME, BABY! I'M 
CCCUUUMMMIIIMMM-GGG!OOOOOOOOH! OOOOOOOOOH!" 

She was grunting like a pig caught in a gate, her screams as animalistic as 
the deep feelings that were being wrenched from her cunt by her husband's 
ferocious slammings. She seemed to shake and quiver with waves of heat that 
burst far up inside her vagina, in the slippery, warm darkness around her 
womb. Each wave lifted her into a flashing brilliance of sexuality, of 
ecstasy that seemed to burn her all through. And all the time the hard 
reality of his cock, striking so deeply into her, hitting the closed end of 
her vagina with such force, bore her down against the bed. 

And each time, her body, longing for the penetrating organ that so filled 
and stretched it, came humping and hunching back, the whole woman gone wild 
with fuck magic, with the tearing pleasure of having her husband in her, 
pumping out her juices, wiping her inner parts with his long, sure strokes. 

He could feel his balls rub in the wet fuzz around her asshole each time he 
pounded into her tightness. Her inner muscles had always been the strongest 
and best he had ever known. Now, they were locking and sliding around his 
cock as it speared into her, seeming to lick up and down his stem, around 
the bulbous head, like a thousand puppy-dog tongues. He was not consciously 
holding on to his load. He would just as soon fire it, quench the fires in 
that greedy, hot, slippery-muscled cunt, suck it all out, give his wife a 
few more hard thrills, and start saving up for the hard-on he wanted to 
save. 

He loved his wife. In his way. He truly felt she had the most voluptuous 
pussy in the whole wide world. So soft, so delightful in its appearance, its 
richly musky aromas, its floods of woman-juice, its gourmet flavors. No cunt 
he had ever known had been more generously welcoming, more giving of its 
wealth of love. Her skin was so alive, so smooth, so warm. The thick, 
springy flesh that made her outer cunt lips so appealing, the lips that were 
so soft and smooth, like the lips of her sweet mouth. She was still tight, 
as tight as when he had married her, twelve years before, a widow with a 
tiny baby girl, this comfortable house, a rare kind of love to offer, and 
her own standards of how to treat a man. 

One in a million. Maybe ten million. 

He drove into her, into that treasure of cunt, swollen with pride at her 
heat and his ability to play on it like the emperor of all cunt musicians 
that ever stroked into a slick fuck sheath. 

Her cries were becoming weaker, even if her lovely body still flew up from 
the mattress to close on his dick, to offer itself in all its flowing, 
loving warmth and beauty. 

But he pictured another cunt. Younger. Very tender. Sweet with the gamey 
sweetness of newly blossomed womanhood. The cunt he wanted to save the next 
hard-on for, if he ever got one again. 

As he thought of the tenderness of those extremely young cuntlips, of their 
softness and their barely visible fuzz of soft, dark hair which did not 
nearly cover that delightfully formed slit, he felt his seed begin to boil 
up from his overcharged balls. 

Connie felt it, too, with a fierce triumph that a hot and loving woman feels 
when she draws the sperm from her man. Or any man. 

She was panting hoarsely, her cheek against Dick's, their sweat mingling and 
running down, down between her big breasts, which flopped like heavy, 
smooth, hot bags of meat. Like they were full of milk, she thought. Oh, I 
wish you'd knock me up, baby! Would I ever give you milk! She thought 
flashingly of John Strong, a good man, the man who had fathered her daughter 
Janice. Little Jannie, who was hearing her screams of fuck lust, her pleas 
for Dick to fuck her harder, deeper. She felt her weighty breasts roll along 
her ribs, glad that they were so big, so smooth, so firm and taut in spite 
of her age, a year away from forty. In spite of their size and their heavy 
pull on her pectoral muscles. Men liked big, soft, smooth titties. So did 
boys. This was her best thought of this past quarter-hour. Boys love big 
titties. 

"OH, BABY!" she sobbed, half out of her mind with the smash of her husband's 
semen-spurting cock, with her own long, fluttering, nerve rasping orgasm. I 
could melt and roll out on the bed in a big puddle of cum, her mind 
whispered. But she croaked: "Fuck me, baby! Fuck me hard, Dickie boy! 
UUUUUUNNNNNNHHHHHH! UUUNNNHHH! UUUUUUNNNNNNHHHHHH!" 

She felt his last spurts of jism flood her slackening cunt, knowing that she 
had only one last flutter of loving muscle left inside her. "Oh, Dick, 
you've fucked me so good!" she said in his ear. Her breath was warm, her 
whisper was barely audible. 

Now that her legs were slackening, too, she let her heels slide off her 
husband's rump, her legs falling heavily on the bed. 

"You've shot me so full of cock juice that I'll soak the bed," she said in a 
nearly normal tone. "Oh, Dick, my love, these morning hard-ons of yours, 
they're so lovely!" 

She felt his body tighten, sensed that his reply would be something less 
than the strong language of love she wanted to hear. 

What was more, she knew why he might have some momentary harshness in his 
feelings toward her. 

He was a man, young enough to desire sex with youthful hunger, but old 
enough to have had warnings that he could not pour out his substance in one 
shot after another. While she, a woman, enjoyed the bio-sexual advantage of 
never being depleted through cum after cum. He was limited. She was not. And 
she sensed that now, caught in a trap of his tenderness for her, aroused by 
her heat and beauty so close at hand, he had fucked her. And now wished that 
he hadn't, since he needed his seed to shoot into another woman. 

She didn't want to hear whatever it was he might say. She did not hate him 
for loving another person, for desiring another cunt to fuck. There were 
times when she could barely contain her pain and anger. But she always had 
held it in. 

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him tenderly, her hand feeling for 
his wilting cock with almost maternal love and care. She sucked his big 
tongue with gentle, undemanding love. Don't be mad at me, baby, she thought 
wryly. Fucking was your idea. Her gesture touched him because he knew the 
splendor of spirit that existed in his hotly loving wife. Touched him so 
that he pulled away from her, letting some of the his-and-her spit drool 
down on one of her big, sweet breasts, and whispered: "I want to suck you, 
doll!" 

With her heart pounding, she groaned: "Oh, lovely, Dick! Oh, thank you, 
Dick! I love it so!" 

He helped her get her strong, smooth ass up on a pillow, her legs back 
against her tingling breasts, so that her cuntal area was spread before him. 
He looked at her without a sense of shame, not in the slightest disturbed 
that he would think of another warm and tender pussy while he was eating 
this one. Her eyes were closed, her sweet face tense with happy 
anticipation. He loved her this way as much as he ever had. And he knew she 
loved it, too. 

He licked gently into the pink, warm pudding of flesh and membrane, one hand 
lightly against the smooth cheek of her ass, the other around the opposite 
thigh, touching her soft belly. 

With the first contact, she moaned softly: "Mmmmmm, darling, how sweet!" And 
her strong body moved slightly, so that he could feel her thighs tighten 
against his cheeks. "Mmmmmm," his wife sighed again, pushing her open cunt 
up toward him. 

He put his open mouth hard against her spread of thick, slick inner labia, 
so warm with her heated blood, so tightly filled with her passion. He licked 
carefully in their reddened convolutions, finding not only the traces of his 
own semen mixed with her pussy juice, but tiny nuggets of warm, semi-solid 
juices from her body, with a fragrance and savor all their own. Cunt was so 
sweet! 

He licked down that flattened trench of warm, responsive flesh, and Connie 
put her hand on the crown of his head, pressing him as hard as she could, 
breathing: "Oh, God, lover, that's exquisite! I wish I could keep you right 
there for hours!" 

He was far more aware than Connie of the passing of time. His job was 
secure, not circumscribed by time clocks and office managers. But he had 
work to do, and in some indirect way, Connie was reminding him of it. It did 
not hurry him, but he ran his open mouth down to the dark little clutch of 
soft flesh which closed her cunt. He slipped both hands around her thighs to 
hold her, since he knew how wildly she would respond to what was coming. 

With all the strength of his lips and cheeks, he sucked at the trembling 
fuck hole, sucked so hard that he could almost feel its walls close on each 
other. His mouth filled with smooth, thick liquid, rich in taste and 
texture, warm with his wife's body heat. 

He loved this moment when his own seed came back into his body. Often, since 
she craved it, he fed this residue of love and sex back into his wife's 
mouth. But today, in some dim and mystic feeling that his sexual strength 
could be bolstered by it, he swallowed it. And as he swallowed, working the 
slickness of semen and cunt juice out from under his tongue and back across 
his taste buds, he made his tongue hard and shoved it as deep into Connie's 
warm vagina as it would reach, flicking it from side to side. 

He sucked again against the ass which was now thrashing with all its 
strength in the throes of a blasting new cum. His chin was pressed hard 
against the sensitivity of her rectum, his nose was rubbing at her wildly 
leaping, feverishly expanding clit. The juice still came to him but it was 
thinner, now. More hers than his. But sweet in its assurance of generous 
cunt warmth. 

His arms were strongly around her big thighs, and he was grinning into her 
lashing pussy as he sucked and kissed and held on to her straining body. His 
suction had brought her nearly dry cunt walls together in a beautifully 
ecstatic pang of nerves rasping on each other, and her orgasm was doubly 
hot, flaming from deep inside her vagina as well as around the wildly tender 
nerves around her tender little clitoris, now flattening out as its energy 
drained. 

"LOVER!" she screamed. "LOVER! SUCK ME! OH, DICKIE, THAT'S TOO GOOD! OH, MY 
CUNT! SUCK! SUCK! SUCK!" 

He had never been so dear, so tender, so studiously careful to build and 
expand and explode completely her post-fuck orgasm. And she appreciated it. 
Appreciated the artistry with which he had sucked her out and given her this 
last, shuddering blast of cumming. It was his offering to her for what he 
was going to do, sooner or later, with another woman. 

She held her strong, smooth thighs around his head for a moment, holding his 
face in the flowing, trembling sensitive spread of hair and outer lips and 
inner lips and flowing hole. I could kill him if I were stronger, smother 
him in my cunt, her heated mind told her. But she knew that this was a lie, 
told only to place a patch on her abraded pride. She did not hate him at 
all, even knowing that he was almost certainly planning to fuck another 
woman on this day. 

She knew who the other woman was, and did not hate her, either. How could 
she? 

It was her thirteen-year-old daughter. 

 Chapter Two 

Connie Haire was almost right. She was right in guessing that Janice would 
hear her screams of exploding lust, her moans and sighs of passion. 
Absolutely right. And she was partly right about Dick's interest in his 
stepdaughter's lithe, strong, beautifully proportioned young body, and in 
the child's tender, lightly haired, juicy little cunt. She was even right 
about his wanting to preserve at least one shot from his big balls for 
Janice. But she was wrong about one major premise. 

They had never fucked. Not yet. 

What she had seen, when she had come home unexpectedly, just three weeks 
ago, quietly, and found them naked in Janice's room, when they were too 
wrapped up in each other to sense her presence, was not what she assumed. 
But who could blame her? 

Dick lay on his right side, his back to Connie, who stood in the dark hall, 
utterly paralyzed by what she saw. She could see that he had an enormous 
hard-on, and that Janice's small, soft hand was holding it, petting it, 
stroking it while the child's flushed face smiled down at her stepfather. 
The child's young breasts, giving their promise, already, of being like her 
mother's some day, were fuller and riper looking than Connie remembered 
them. But then, how long had it been since she had noticed? 

Anyway, they were swollen by heat, that was certain, for Janice's nipples, 
darker than her mother's, were large and hard, looking very dark because of 
their overcharge of racing blood. 

Connie was-what? She was all of the things we think of as a mother being, 
when she sees her daughter in flagrante delicto with a male. Sick with 
anger, torn by the deeply feminine need to protect her child. But she was 
unable to move from the spot, because of another little matter. She was all 
the things a wife is, when she sees her husband in bed with another female. 
Sick with anger, torn by the desire to shred the woman's skin with her 
claws, to flay the woman with the scorpion-whips of bitter words. But she 
was shackled. She could do nothing. 

The man seducing her daughter was her beloved husband. He had been as much a 
father to the infant Janice as her real father-any real father-could ever 
have been. 

He had been generous and honest and kind and considerate. 

And that young cunt in there with her husband, that hateful object, another 
woman stealing her man, was her daughter. Actually, although Connie did not 
know it, and would not for a long time, her innocent daughter. Her innocent 
daughter who had never, at the time of this discovery, ever had a man's-or a 
boy's-prick stuck in her warm, fuzzy little pussy. Nor even a male finger, 
for that matter. Nor been French kissed or willingly let a boy feel her up. 
At the time of Connie's discovery. 

When she left that soul-shaking, cruelly bizarre scene, which she did within 
seconds, she found it very hard to move one foot after the other. The blood 
was pounding in her ears so that she could not have heard a word from the 
two who lay naked together on that bed of treachery and iniquity, of incest 
and depravity. But there was another reason. 

The lascivious sight, so redolent of sex at its most garishly shocking 
potency, at least for the woman involved, the wife of the man and the mother 
of the girl, had flushed Connie's warm and sensual body with cunt heat that 
almost turned her to liquid fire. 

She felt her cuntal nerves, the ones deepest inside her, begin their 
tickling, teasing itch. She felt the quick spurt of orgasmic fluid fill her 
vaginal cups and folds and reservoirs, and begin their maddening crawl as 
gravity pulled their hot, liquid reality down through the tenderest, most 
pathetically eager nerves inside her twat. And, as always when she ran a 
very high sexual heat, her slick inner labia were immediately swollen by a 
rush of blood to fill them; they became twice their dormant size. They, too, 
leaked their own fluids, but more important, their swelling opened and 
swelled her outer lips so that they were double their normal size and triple 
their usual sensitivity on their pink inner surfaces. Every step she took 
was pure, torturing fire, the fire of need, the ardent flame of an 
overheated cunt that needs immediate relief. 

Which simply meant that each step rubbed one sensitized surface against 
another, so that, unless she walked with her thighs spread in a vulgar and 
suggestive angle, Connie was going to be smitten by a giant, sweeping orgasm 
right there in the hall. 

She was never able to understand exactly why the sight of her daughter and 
her husband engaged in obvious sex play, should have thrown her into such an 
unbridled seizure of love and passion. 

"I'd have killed them," she whispered to herself as she sank onto her 
bed-hatefully, Dick's bed, too-"if I hadn't been so close to cumming! God! 
How could they do this? To me? How could Dick do it too little Jannie?" 

She was almost hysterical, but she knew she must cool down, pull herself 
together, decide what to do. But she was nearly frantic with unappeased 
lust. The intense, fiery sensation of itching lust in her fuck system 
overrode any anger, any grief. Without any further thought of anyone else, 
in complete abandon, the lovely, mature woman lay on her back and lifted her 
spread thighs. Exactly as she would have if Dick had been there, she thought 
with a shock. But it was not Dick, nor his cock that would help her now. 

She felt no revulsion when the nylon strap of her panties seemed to slide 
under her fingers. She was proud of being hot. If her cunt overflowed with 
its sweet juice, no matter what the cause, she would not feel turned off. 
She held the cum-slicked strap aside while her experienced fingers sought 
the aching spot, the ravingly tense little bud of passion, and touched it, 
stroked all around it, and let her straining orgasm pour out in a torrent of 
cunt fire. And a torrent of screams. 

"AAAIIIEEEEEE!" Her voice was a high, keening wail, a kind of fierce joy as 
her onenistic fingers relieved and released her. "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! 
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! OH, MY CUNT! OH, GOD DAMN THEM BOTH! GOD DAMN THEM! FUCK 
THEM! AAAARRRRGGGHHH! AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!" 

It had always been her nature to vocalize her outpourings of passion. Her 
love for sex, for her body, for every tune that could be played on any 
erotic spot she owned, inevitably urged her into high decibel shouts and 
groans of heat and fuck lust. 

When her hard cum was over, bringing her relief but no joy, Connie was still 
on her back. At least, she thought, some of that gut-busting pressure was 
off her, out of her. 

Her strong, beautiful thighs were wide apart, but she had released the taut 
and pussy-soaked strap of her nylon panties, and she had a hand full of her 
cunt squeezings. And she felt just a little bit sheepish. 

This had been immature, to say the least. Babyish. A cop-out. She should 
have gone into the room with Janice and Dick and asked, in a cool, calm 
tone: "What the hell's going on around here?" 

"Yeah. Fine. If you could manage it. But Connie, deep in her confused and 
sorely hurt mind and heart, knew she could never have cut it. How could she? 
How? How? And what could she do tonight? And tomorrow? 

What she did was automatically pick up her bundles and packages that she had 
brought home from shopping, and go quietly out the door. Not waiting to see 
if Dick and Janice had been alerted by her screams of lust and crazy sexual 
spasms. 

Once outside, and in her car, she sat for a few moments, looking blindly 
through the windshield. Trying to think. Unable to. At last, giving up 
trying to think, she struck her palm on the steering wheel. 

"I can't face them," she said aloud. "Not now. I can't-fight them. Hurt 
them. And it's so weird that I, Connie Haire, nearly forty years old, would 
go so crazy finger-fucking myself!" She shivered, sitting in her car on that 
warm summer day. "Why?" she asked of herself, of the world. "Why? Oh, God, 
please help me!" 

That was three weeks ago. She had managed to live. To face the two of them. 
Even to act naturally, to keep herself cool but friendly. Because she had to 
learn, to find out, what it was all about. Not to lash out, to bust things 
up, although she occasionally felt as if only violence could help. 

She was even able to hug Janice, to kiss her, to be interested in her 
clothes, her school work, her problems. 

Her problems? God above us! What problems did that kid have that matched 
hers, Connie's? Maybe the problem of looking her mother in the eye each day, 
of carrying on an illegal, incestuous, depraved relationship with her 
father. Stepfather, of course, Connie corrected herself mentally. She had 
thought it, three weeks ago, when she had first seen them. She thought it 
now, as she lay with her strong, healthy body still tingling from that 
morning fuck with Dick. 

That had been the shock of her life. Three weeks ago. But when had it 
started? That first discovery, surely that hadn't been the first time. Could 
it? Impossible. 

Actually, it had begun almost two months before that fateful day when Connie 
had found them, naked and happy, in Janice's bed. Begun in pain and anguish, 
in fear and wrath, and in the horrible fear that only a girl can have. 

Connie was a good citizen. She believed she owed more to the world than just 
taking up space, paying her bills, giving to the United Fund or to Red 
Cross. It took a lot of her time to do as much community work as Connie did, 
but she gave the time, lovingly. She was at a civic meeting, or maybe it was 
a charitable fund meeting, or whatever, on that night that it had begun. 

And Dick was sitting quietly, reading a book, when he heard a rush of feet 
on the front porch, heard the door wrenched open, and then his daughter-he 
always thought of her as his daughter-was on him, sobbing, face contorted 
with fear and indignation, streaked with tears. 

He was completely aware that she had been growing up this past year. And, 
being a normal sort of guy, interested in pussy, no matter whose pussy it 
was, he had watched the budding voluptuousness of this teenage kid whom he 
loved. 

Now, with her beautiful young body so completely molded to his own, he was 
aware of something else-her softly female solidity, the aroma of a grown 
woman's aroused genitalia, the pressure of her breasts on his chest. 

And there was something else. Something from the girl. Unconscious, perhaps, 
but there you go-she had her soft young ass on his lap, and its pressure was 
doing things to his cock. 

For a minute or two, he simply held the lovely young girl to him, stroking 
her back as if she had been a small child. Once, as he stroked all the way 
down her back, and realized she had no panties on under her summery dress, 
his hand went low enough for him to realize that she certainly wasn't a 
small child. 

It gave him a shock, that he could feel this way. Conscious of her fine 
young breasts on him, of the softly maturing contours of her ass, of the 
warmth of her in his crotch. But he had a greater shock when, her sobs 
decreasing, she pulled back to look at him with her face all blurred by 
tears and shame. 

Every man who has a daughter sees her body, in its entirety, from time to 
time. At a certain time in a girl's life, roughly about the time of the 
first hairs on her little snatch, both she and her mother form a committee 
to prevent old dad from enjoying the sight of his female child in bare-ass 
splendor. So, Dick had been aware of the changes in Jannie's body without 
being fully posted on the details. In her nice-girl nighties, it was obvious 
that she had boobs. Pretty good ones, as a matter of fact. How long had it 
been since he had really looked? Dick didn't know. But now, he saw them, 
plain. And close up. 

Somehow, little Jannie's pretty dress had been torn, right down the front. 
As she pulled back to look at Dick with pleading eyes, her breasts, very 
large, startlingly large on a girl so young, so slender, swung out in 
pink-and-white voluptuousness. Perfect in size and shape. Globes, true, but 
their weight made them pear-shaped. Big targets of shiny, pinky-brown flesh, 
each centered by a hard nipple. A hard nipple? Experience told Dick that 
such hardening usually meant sexual arousal. Oh, cold weather, rubbing on a 
sweater, many other things could bring a flush of heat to a girl's breasts. 
But, if a girl is naturally hot-and Jannie would be, of course, since she 
would take after her mother-then almost anything of a sexual or sexual 
nature could bring titties to life. 

That twist in Dick's mind held him just long enough for him to take a good 
look at those lovely, bare breasts. And then, seeing a deep scratch on one, 
and two bruises on the other, he lost all objectivity, lost his interest in 
sex for a moment, and became what he was, a father. 

He was a strong man. He stood up, with Janice's arms around his neck, and 
strode swiftly to her bedroom. His heart was pounding. For once in their 
married life, he resented the fact that Connie was not at home. Something 
bad had happened, and he wasn't sure he'd know how to handle it. 

But Janice was hard for him to put down. Her smooth, strong young arms were 
around his neck, holding him so tightly that he had to lean down to get her 
weight out of his arms and on to the bed. And, since his position was 
awkward and uncomfortable, leaning over her, it seemed natural for him to 
lie down beside her. And there they were. Facing each other, because the 
girl whirled to press her face into his neck, to throw her arms around him. 
And her warm young body nestled very naturally against his. 

He was still fighting mad at whatever, whomever, had harmed his daughter, 
but he knew he had to control himself. So he asked, softly: "Jannie, are you 
hurt, baby? What happened?" 

She clung to him, pressing her softly nubile body against him. "OHHHHHH! OH, 
DADDY DICK!" she wailed, a voice of pure tragedy. "THEY HURT ME! THEY WERE 
SO BAAADDDD!" OHHHHHH!" And she shivered, but she pulled his hand up to her 
breast, the one with the long scratch. Her voice came down a notch or two. 
"Oh, daddy, it was awful!" 

Again he fought back black rage. 

"Whoa, baby," he begged. His hand stayed on her warm, soft breast, and his 
finger and thumb absently shaped the hard nipple, giving him a tremor in his 
cock. "Whoa up, there. Begin at the beginning. You say 'they' hurt you. Who? 
And how?" 

She reached nervously down, her soft hand seeking her belly, and he was so 
startled that he raised up. He had not thought of rape. She had simply gone 
over to Mary McCarty's, a couple of blocks away. To do a little home work 
and listen to records. He was half out of his mind with anger and grief. 

He rolled away, got on his knees, and raised his daughter's skirt. He had 
been right. No panties. And there, right under his eyes, for the first time 
in a long while, saw her sweet little cunt, almost as it had been when she 
was a baby. Almost, but not quite. 

There was no denying, she wasn't a little girl any more. The softly divided 
little cunt lips were as fat and thick as a grown woman's. There was a 
little bush of dark, curly hair just above the beginning of her slit. And a 
few, barely visible hairs straggling down the fat, ripening lips of her sex. 

Involuntarily, wanting to know all, expecting to see virgin blood from a 
ruptured maidenhead, Dick Haire drew his daughter's firm, lovely thighs 
apart. And it was almost too much for him. 

Actually, the thick outer lips were opening. They were as soft and smooth as 
any baby girl's, true. But under them, beginning to show as they came open, 
there were the slick, wet, pink labia of the mature female. Without 
conscious intention, he stroked softly all around the smooth, almost 
hairless opening, and his daughter suddenly bucked and moaned. 

"Ohhhhhh! Am I all right, daddy? OH, PLEASE!" This jerky scream as he 
pressed on her mound. "OH, DADDY! Am I all right?" Her young body undulated; 
more reactively than Dick, she had pumped up at his fingers. He looked at 
her, saw her eyes were open and staring at him, realized she was taut with 
fear and nerves. 

"You're all right, lambie," he said as steadily as he could. "As far as I 
can see. What happened? Did someone-uh, you know-did some boy-try anything?" 

He felt like an idiot. I should be asking her plain questions, he thought. 
Damn Connie! I wish she were here. Why the hell can't I just talk to her the 
same way I would to another girl? And somewhere far back in his mind, there 
was an answer: You're afraid to ask what you want to ask, in a way the kid 
can understand. 

He shook his head. And now, smiling and much more at ease, he said: "Baby, 
I'm sorry to sound so idiotic. Did some guy rape you? Or try to?" 

And now, Janice seemed to become easier, too. She kept her dress pulled up, 
so that he could see her lovely little twat, her smooth, softly muscled 
belly. But not far enough up to cover those fantastic titties. And she 
smiled. 

"I don't know, daddy," she said, with a sort of hiccup that was the echo of 
a sob. "I think they would have, maybe. If I hadn't fought and yelled. Or 
maybe they were just trying to scare me. Daddy, what did you do a minute 
ago? Down there, I mean?" And she ran her small hand right down to her 
pussy. "It felt so nice," she said in a low voice, closing her eyes. "So 
tender. Would you-is it all right to ask you? Would you do it again?" 

He put his hand again on his daughter's pussy. Her thighs opened wider. He 
ran his fingers down each side, touching the outside of the thick cunt 
flaps, pressing on her groin. At the bottom of the slit, where he felt the 
slickness of cuntal moisture, he pressed his fingers sharply into the 
tenderest outer parts a girl has. 

"OHHHHH! OHHHHH! DADDY! THAT'S IT! THAT'S WHERE IT'S AT!" 

The girl was quivering, holding his arm. "Oh, daddy, that feels so good it 
kind of scares me!" 

For all his sophistication, Dick Haire felt a strange, guilty clutch of fear 
deep in his abdomen. He remembered it through the layers of time which 
separated him from his teens. The gut feeling that had almost made him sick 
with first lust, the very first time he got his cock into a girl. He licked 
his lips, smiling stiffly. His cock, now very hard, was giving him 
embarrassment and discomfort. It was down his leg instead of up. In its need 
to rise, it gave the sensation of breaking off at the root. In his pain, he 
moved involuntarily, and the girl cried out: "No! No! Please, daddy, don't 
leave me!" At the same time, her hands blindly groped for him, and one of 
them came, as if by instinct, right to his cock. 

He felt the sick excitement rise in him, seeming to choke off his breath, to 
grind in his guts as a sort of sickness which was, at the same time, 
incredibly beautiful. And the feel of his child's hand on his hard prick was 
unbelievable-even through the soft flannel, he felt the warmth and human 
softness of her fingers as she gripped him. 

The young girl had no need to pick up this breathless, hard-held heat from 
her father. It had been burning in her, a part of her fear, as she had run 
home from her friend's home. It had throbbed in her youthful but mature 
inner organs as she had sat on her dad's lap. She had been as conscious of 
the warmth and life in his genitals as he had been of hers. And a need to 
share her fear and anguish, to lessen her chaotic and insensate guilt by a 
kind of confession had seemed to force her to fling her bare breasts into 
Dick's face. 

Now, each second, each movement, each thought seemed to move her inevitably 
toward something she dared not think of, but which she was incapable of 
resisting. She had actually never seen a man's sex organs until tonight, and 
then only in a brief flash of fear that seared her young mind. Oh, on baby 
boys, of course; every girl who makes an honest buck at baby-sitting sees 
baby pricks. And once, in a sickly adventurous moment behind their garage, a 
ten-year-old kid had shown her his hard, miniature cock. 

But she knew what a cock was, and what it was for. Other than to pee 
through, that is. And now, so fevered that she was almost in a deathly 
faint, she held one. A huge one. And loved it with a trembling, helpless, 
sickening wave of unspecified, un-understood lust. 

The young girl's grip was painful, and Dick spoke through his teeth: "Let 
go, baby! Please let go! I have to change, uh, I mean I have to-DAMN IT!" he 
shouted, and managed to jerk away from his young stepdaughter, who covered 
her face with her hands. 

He knelt on the bed, hurting in cock and groin, and quickly ran his zipper 
down. He reached into his shorts, handling his cock with caution, realizing 
it might explode jism all over both of them, leading to even more 
embarrassment, more complications. 

He looked at it, shaking his head, and himself nearly fainted when his 
daughter reached out her soft, warm hand and took it, as naturally as if she 
had been her mother, just between hairy base and purple head. 

He was aware that this was murder, pure murder. But he, like Janice, had 
some sort of inner gyroscope, both emotional and sexual, that was steering 
him unwaveringly at a tangent to his moral precepts. He knew he was risking 
everything, including his own self-esteem, but the unrelenting pull of that 
inner force was moving him beyond any hope of halting. But he tried. 

"Come on, baby," he said, trying to laugh through dry lips. "Enough's 
enough. Tell me about your, well, how you got your dress torn. About how 
those guys tried to rape you. If they did. OHHHHHHHHH! OH, GOD, SWEETHEART! 
DON'T DOOOOOO THAAA TTTTTT!" 

The "that" he choked on was a soft, rhythmic forward-backward movement of 
her hand-and, naturally, the softly enclosing skin on his cock-which was 
sweeter and lighter than any hand job he had ever had, softer and sweeter, 
it seemed to him, than any love play he had ever known. But the very 
enormity of shooting sperm over his nearly nude child helped him to keep 
from squirting it over her and her bed. But it was a very near thing. And 
there was something else that gripped him. 

The little girl-who certainly looked big enough, with those breasts rolling 
on her ribs-had a sickly pleading look like that of a dog punished unjustly. 
Tears were rolling silently from her eyes, which looked blankly-and 
piteously up at Dick. 

When his hand closed automatically on hers, stopping the frigging motion, 
she tried to smile, and murmured: "I'm sorry, daddy. So sorry. Oh, daddy! I 
didn't mean to hurt you!" 

She was so pitiful that he dropped down beside her, pulling her to him, and 
once more her big breasts were burning him right through the thin fabric of 
his shirt. His naked cock was in some sort of contact with the girl's warm 
flesh, he could not be sure where. But anywhere on her body, he knew, the 
skin would be so thrillingly soft and smooth and warm that its contact would 
invite orgasm. 

He smoothed her dark hair from her forehead. "Don't, baby," he pleaded, and 
realized with a shock that his voice had the same cock-throb as when he was 
making love to his wife. Or another woman. "Tell me what happened. Let's try 
to quiet down. Both of us." But he was so desolate, in some age-old and 
pagan part of his mind, at passing up this incredible bit of potential joy. 

But the girl choked out: "I need you to help me, Daddy Dick! Really! Not 
mom! I couldn't ask her-I mean, I couldn't tell her what happened to me. 
Can't you see? It might-honest, daddy, if I told her, it might get to be too 
big a thing. Don't you see?" 

Strangely, Dick Haire "saw". Or thought he did. And, also a strange thing, 
it made him feel more a father than he ever had. Fuck the old myths and 
taboos! This kid was his, as much as if she had grown from a seed from his 
own loins. He did not know what had happened. But he knew in his guts that 
anything having to do with kid sex, unimportant in the larger scale of 
years, innocent in its origins, might blow a mother's mind. Might lead to 
too much noise, too many accusations, just a whole God damned unnecessary 
pile of trouble. 

The thought steadied him, brought back his innate maleness, cooled the 
childish fear that he might explode his big load of semen if little Janice 
so much as moved. 

He laughed. Unconsciously, he even seemed to fuck at the slim, warm young 
girl, although really, he was only making an adjustment of his cock for its 
comfort. But he made no move to put it away. 

Even when the girl, making a soft noise of pleasure, nestled her face 
against his neck and put her warm little hand on his cock again, he felt 
comfortable and good, and in command of himself. 

"Of course, chickie," he whispered. "I know what you mean. Go on, little 
doll, tell me what happened." 

 Chapter Three 

In the soft light of Janice's bedside lamp, which one of them-Dick was not 
sure which one-had turned on, the girl's tale came out in a rush of words, 
of gasps and sighs and little moans. And piteous questions: "Was that so 
wrong, that I didn't leave right then?" or "Do all boys want to do those 
things to girls?" And, of course, more. But it didn't take long. 

Jannie had gone to Mary McCarty's to study. "She's better than I am at 
math." And to listen to records. And then Betsy Blair had come by with Pat 
Lake and two boys, Roy Willard and Sammy Priest. And then Dave Burton and 
Harry Tenison. 

"They got to dancing, that old fashioned stuff, holding each other. And Roy 
said something terrible!" She burrowed her face into his neck. 

Roy had said: "Look! Mary's giving me a dry fuck!" And while Janice's mind 
was still reeling with the word, and the implications of Roy Willard having 
said it so boldly-well, didn't it mean that he knew it was okay to say it? 
And didn't they all share that feeling?-anyway, while she was still sort of, 
you know, daddy, numb, everything sort of went crazy. That was the gist of 
the quick story. 

Pressed for detail, she choked off. But Dick kindly took her hiding hands 
away from her flushed face, sensing her need to tell, and said: "Listen, my 
dear little love. You said you needed to tell me. So you By God better tell 
me, so I can judge it all, and help you if I can. And I think this will 
help: I know, or I think, that you're as 'innocent' as any thirteen-year-old 
kid is nowadays. But you talk with other girls. You know the easy language 
as well as I do. If you want to say 'fuck' or 'screw' or 'prick' or 'cock', 
do so. Go on now. How did everything go crazy?" 

She looked at him worshipfully, her eyes wide and clear. This was, indeed, 
what she needed. "Oh, Daddy Dick, thank you! That is what I need. Well, 
maybe I might not say 'fuck', that's kind of awful, isn't it?" But she 
grinned. "But you're so good to help me." 

Yeah, he thought, and I'm going to go to bed with the damndest stone ache I 
ever had. Even in this reality, he acknowledged later, he had not thought of 
sticking this hard-on into his wife's warm and loving pussy. Weird! This 
just seemed to be something between him and Janice. And he tried to smile 
back at little Jannie, his "baby" for twelve long, sweet years. His baby! 
And the need to fuck her, to stick his cock brutally into her small, soft 
lipped, leaking little pussy was making him weak. 

"So tell me," he croaked. "What did they do then?" 

She reached up, got her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her breath was 
sweet, like a baby's. She seemed no longer afraid. 

"Well," she said slowly, "I nearly fainted. If Roy could say that, and Mary 
didn't scream, it meant that he could, well, do the real thing. Oh, daddy," 
and she flushed and turned her eyes away. "Didn't it mean he really could, 
uh, fuck her? And they all began to laugh, and wrestle around, and somehow, 
Roy's zipper was open, and he-oh, daddy! I know it's stupid, but it's so 
hard to say!" 

He touched her on her warm, smooth belly. I used to tickle her when she was 
little, he thought. His scalp felt tight. "I'll help you," he said. "Roy got 
his cock out. But did he do anything? Like, well, did he stick it into 
Mary?" 

"Daddy," the girl whispered, blushing and keeping her eyes closed, "He put 
it in her mouth! She was kneeling on the floor, and Roy said: 'Come on, Mary 
Mac, gimme a little blow-job.' Ugh! Can you believe it?" 

Dick, who had seen the poised, smiling, well built little Mary on many 
occasions, thinking of how it would be to have her suck his cock, shuddered, 
but not from disgust. "It's not so bad, baby," he said earnestly. "Lots of 
women and girls-most of 'em, if you want my opinion-do that very little 
thing." His mouth was still dry, but as he ran his hand farther down, 
touching the soft split in his daughter's body, felt the moisture welling 
out, his mouth filled with an unexpected gush of saliva. 

Janice was excited. As he touched the top of her small, tender split, she 
lunged up at him, actually flung her loins up so that his big finger slid 
into the soft, slick valley between her cunt lips. She was almost crazy with 
the boiling need to find release. The scene at Mary's had left her reeling. 
What had happened to her, to her own young, healthy body, had been 
frightening, dreadful, but somehow, insanely pleasurable. 

And Dick-well, he could feel every thundering heartbeat, somehow, in the 
palpitating, screaming cum-nerves in his cock. "Don't touch me, baby," he 
grunted, knowing it sounded crazy, since he was busily engaged in touching 
her. In fact, he was as far out of it as the girl was, and he could no 
longer deny that he was going to cum. Or go crazy, for certain. 

To soften his mood, in a desperate attempt to escape this ultimate result of 
what had started as a desire-a genuine parental impulse-to help this child, 
he said in a strange voice: "But, dear, are you sure Mary, uh, went along 
with this, uh, behavior?" Common sense inside him said: Don't be stupid, 
stupid. These kids learn to suck cock as soon as they learn to piss hard 
against the ground. It gave him a strange thrill to hear his daughter 
giggle. Good! So she hadn't really been damaged by the exhibition. 

"Daddy, that's one of the things that scared me. Mary loved it! She was 
holding it with her hand, and looking up at him-OOOH! DADDY! STOP! PLEASE 
DON'T, DADDY! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH, DADDY!" 

He had never removed his finger from her humid, soft little cunt, or at 
least the upper valley, and his daughter had been, possibly unconsciously, 
fucking against it. But so gently that he hadn't noticed. But now, the cramp 
in his forearm made him realize, in a burst of chaotic feeling, that he had 
been encouraging her, rubbing his finger all around where he very well knew 
her inflamed clit to be. 

"NO! NO! DADDY! PLEASE DON'T!" the girl was screaming. But she was holding 
onto his wrist with both hands, and trying to get her strong young thighs up 
and around his arm, and she was humping up and down like a machine. And, in 
a fearfully sick sense of triumph, Dick knew she was cumming. How hot! How 
marvelous! His hard cock was only an inch or two from the deep, soft crease 
of her buttocks. One or two slight plunges, and he would shoot this heavy 
load all over the kid's sweet little butt, all over her unhaired asshole. 

"OHHHHHH!" the girl screamed, her body thrashing, a sort of undulation that 
was keyed to the rhythm of her hoarse screaming. "OOOOOOHHH! OOOOOOH! 
OOOOOOHH! OH, GOD, DADDY, IT'S SO GOOOOOODDD! OH, PLEASE, DADDY! DON'T! 
STOP! DON'T! STOP!" 

But there was no real plea in her voice. Rather, it was a paean of triumph, 
a throat-ripping cry of pleasure too great to bear in silence. 
"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH DADDY! GIVE 
IT TO ME! HELP ME, DADDY! HEEELLLPPP MEEE!" 

He held her as her body flung itself up and around in wild gyrations, afraid 
she might throw herself off the bed and be hurt. The warm contact with her 
smooth, warm flesh, the feel of his hands as they slipped on her perspiring 
body, would have driven him up the wall except that he had to concentrate on 
holding the girl. Her breasts were flopping, their soft weight making them 
jerk up and down from side to side. At one point, as Jannie was about to get 
away from him, he sunk his head and shoulders onto her chest, and one of her 
breasts kept bobbing up and hitting him in the face. 

"OHHHHHH!" the girl moaned, and now her squirming was less violent, and her 
voice less strident. "OHHHHHH! OH, DADDY DICK! OHHHHHH!" And her body 
suddenly went limp, and she was lying quiet, her heart pounding and racing, 
her breath fast and deep, like a tired runner. 

His head was still on her chest, and they were both sweating very hard. He 
opened his mouth to say something, and tasted sweat, either his or hers, he 
did not know. Janice was patting him and rubbing him on his cheek, his ear, 
down his neck, and crooning "That was sooo sweeeeeet! Oh, daddy, thank you 
for giving me that!" Her voice was soft and low, like a song of abated lust. 

He got up on his elbow to look at the girl. Her face was much softer, freer 
from strain, and her lips seemed fuller. They were slack, too, and a long, 
thick thread of clear saliva ran from one corner of her mouth, down her 
cheek, disappearing into her sweat soaked hair, and he had to swallow 
quickly, for his mouth was full of spit, too, and his heart was slamming 
against his ribs, also, making it hard for him to speak. But he got it out. 

"God, kid," he gasped, "you sure as hell got off, didn't you? Like to've 
gone through the ceiling." He grinned and, on impulse, he dropped his hand 
and kissed her on the softly rounded upper slope of one breast. At once her 
body began to move in hard, purposeful motions, and he drew back, laughing. 

"You're hotter than your mom," he said, feeling a warm inner glow of family 
closeness, talking of such things to his daughter as she lay so close to 
him. "What got you off like that?" He started to touch her, but waited. 

The girl turned and hid her flushed face against him. Her entire body was a 
deep pink from her cum, and her breasts, so large for a girl her age, were 
larger and heavier. Charged with a natural rush of blood as the wave of 
orgasm had lashed her. Her nipples were very large, very hard, their deeply 
creased, grainy tissue dark from her racing blood, too. 

"Well," her voice came shakily, with a tiny shred of laughter, "you were 
tickling me. Down there." She laughed again and said boldly: "I mean in my 
pussy. My, uh, well," she stopped, the red tide of blushing again sweeping 
her. 

"In your cunt, baby," he whispered. "Don't ever be afraid to be frank and 
open with the Old Man, right? Sure, I guess I was sort of, well, touching 
you with my finger. But it was something else." 

Her entire body seemed to jerk. "Oh, yesss!" she breathed. "Now I know! I 
was telling you about what happened at Mary's. I guess I must be kind of 
crazy." She licked her lips. "To let it make me so, uh, silly. So hot. But 
while Mary was holding Roy's THING, his cock, that is, he began to shoot 
off. Right in her face! UGH! It was so awful!" She looked at Dick out of the 
corners of her eyes. 

Dick didn't answer, and the young girl asked again: "Well, wasn't it awful? 
For him to shoot off? Right there in the room with everyone else? That is 
what they call it, isn't it? Shooting off?" She sounded aggrieved, 
defensive. 

Dick's heart was still pounding. And again he saw Mary, compact, beautifully 
rounded little Mary, holding a spurting cock. One which she, undoubtedly, 
had caused to spurt. He closed his eyes, holding back his own spurts of cock 
juice. And he kissed his daughter. On the cheek, and very lightly. 

"Yeah, shooting off. Or ejaculation, in the books they give you in Sex 
Education." He laughed. "Most people just call it cumming. But I expect you 
know that, baby." 

She flushed. "Of course, daddy. But there's so much I don't know. And oh, 
golly, daddy! How I want to learn! That's why I was so glad that mom wasn't 
at home! Oh, daddy, I couldn't tell her about it!" She was trembling. 
"Seeing that white stuff fly out, all over Mary! No wonder I had that awful 
fit. Of cumming," she added. "Yesss! Oh, yesss, daddy! Oh, boy, I sure came, 
didn't I?" 

She was pressing against him again, and she whispered: "I guess I was pretty 
noisy, wasn't I? When I came, I mean. I don't cum all that much or all that 
often." Her voice was coming out quickly, in brittle little sentences, her 
breath catching. Her dad knew she was full of tension. She was entranced 
with the very idea of saying "I came," and "cumming". It was getting her hot 
again. He hugged her. 

"Easy, baby," he said. "Sure, you came like a fire engine. You liked it, 
didn't you? And you have cum before." 

She hid her flushed young face in his chest again. "I loved it," she 
acknowledged. "It was the best I ever did it. Oh, daddy, it's so much more 
fun when you do it with someone else. Someone you love! OHHHHHH! IT HURTS 
ME! OH, DADDY! I'M SO BAAADDD!" She hunched her body rapidly, and then she 
sighed deeply: "Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! I was doing it again, daddy!" She giggled. 
"I couldn't help it. Is it true, what you said, that it wasn't so terrible 
of Mary to do that thing? To take Roy's penis in her mouth? I sure never 
thought that one of my friends-ugh! But you said it's natural." 

"Sure is," Dick said, with more force than necessary. "Very nice people do 
it all the time. It's all right, baby. Really! Uh, listen. Did he shoot it 
all over Mary?" 

Janice gave a little giggle, sounding very young. "Oh, I think she knew it 
was coming," she said. "She pulled it out of her mouth and gave it a shake 
and looked up at Roy and said: 'I believe the damned thing's stopped up!' 
And then she sucked on it, or gave it a kiss, or something. And it began to 
shoot! Lots of it. But you know," the girl said slowly, "one blast of it hit 
her right in the face, splattered all over her, but she got the hard old 
thing right in her mouth and began swallowing that, uh, whatchacallem." Her 
shiver was of pure lust, and she put one hand on her breast, pressing it 
hard, while a look of deep concentration gripped her young features. 

"She sucked him off," Dick said in a choked voice. "She really blew him. 
Swallowed it all. Beautiful!" 

He rolled on to his back, covering his eyes with the back of one hand. Maybe 
the room temperature would reduce this hard-on. It was getting to be too 
much. He felt little Janice stir alongside him, and gratefully thought: 
Well, maybe she's had enough. If she'll only get up and leave, it'll help. 
Jesus! I've got to get this load off my balls! 

To his shock, he felt a warm touch on his hard cock, and Jan's whisper: "Is 
it all right if I look at him, daddy? Except for what I saw at Mary's, and 
babies, I never saw one. And never up close." 

He controlled his voice with an effort. "Oh, sure, baby. Look all you want." 
But don't breathe on it, his mind said in a sort of wry humor. Unless you 
want to get a blast a hellofa lot bigger than Roy gave Mary. 

He felt her soft hand gently moving his dick as if she meant to turn it 
every way but loose, so that she could see everything. He heard her sigh, 
felt the fleeting warmth of her breath. He tried to think of something far 
away. This was getting to be just too much. His imagination was killing him. 
But he concentrated on business. Freezers were going great. Every client in 
the county, over a hundred of them, were yelling for freezers. 

He was succeeding. There was a wet, warm feeling around his cockhead, but no 
longer that hard, dry, jerk-off feeling of need. It was soft and sweet. He 
almost felt he could go to sleep. If he did, he might roll over and touch 
his cock to the sheet, and he would begin to cum. Yes, like this lovely 
feeling. So soft. He was about to cum. Just a faint throb, far down in his 
balls. Well, it was such a sweet, tender feeling. Soft and warm and wet. And 
the lightest possible touch. "I'm cumming," he whispered to himself. "Must 
be asleep. Sleep! Ooooooohhh! OOOOOOHHHHHH! OWWW! OWWW!" 

The heavily beating throbs of orgasm were at their full, and he tried to sit 
up, tried to find himself. His cock was in his own daughter's mouth, and it 
was cumming! "OH, GOD!" he cried. "OH, GOD!" And then: "Stop it! STOP IT, I 
SAY!" 

As he screamed this, he made a hard, sweeping motion of his hand and knocked 
the young girl's head away from his spouting cock. He would never forget her 
face, so hurt, so appealing, with his cum running down from each corner of 
her mouth. He felt so terrible, seeing how he had crushed her spirit, that 
he reached for her and held her above his jerking prick, saying: "Go on, 
baby! It's all right! Go on, get on it!" 

She looked at him shyly through upturned lashes, her smile back again. Her 
little hand held his big cock and she opened her mouth to a big, pink oval 
and went down on him again. It was the damnedest thing in nature, the way a 
girl instinctively knew how to suck a man's prick. How she knew to open 
wide, to stick her tongue out to slick it with spit that would help it in 
and clear the way into her throat. And then to take it in so deep, clear 
down into her gullet, well past her tonsils. And that's exactly what little 
Jannie was doing. 

He was sitting up, his legs out at an angle, his big body braced on his back 
thrust arms. He had a deep quake of fear buried somewhere inside him, but he 
knew he could deal with that, later. When he had to. But right now, unh-unh. 
He would just watch as this young and beautiful girl, his daughter, finished 
sucking him off. 

His daughter! She looked so young, so vulnerable, such a child! Her blouse 
bunched up under her arms. Her young titties were hanging down, looking 
bigger than he had ever seen them. He reached and pulled on them, and then, 
as Jannie sucked more fiercely, he took her by the ears and said "Whoa, 
baby," in a gentle voice. "Stop. It's all done. You've got it all." 

She continued to crouch there, the beautiful little rump so wide open as he 
looked down her back. She was panting, he could see and feel how she was 
shaking, but she mouthed his limbering dick softly and sweetly. With her 
spit and his semen, her mouth felt very wet and slick and loose and warm. 
Like a relaxed cunt, when you leave your tool in and keep it moving so it 
will stay hard for another fuck. The two-hour kind. 

But, now that it was over, he wanted to see the girl's face, to talk to her, 
to answer all her eager, childishly curious queries. She was swallowing, 
slowly swallowing his jism, and the movements of her tongue and cheeks were 
very lovely on his nerve-taut cock. He said softly: "Lie on your side, baby; 
I'll leave it in your mouth," and he curled his leg and shoved her shoulder 
gently, so that they could lie together. His face was now quite near the 
juncture of her thighs with her body. So slim, and yet so womanly-wide at 
this point! His heart thrilled. 

He moved closer to her, and felt her head move as she feverishly tried to 
follow his prick. "It's all right, baby," he said huskily. "I just want to 
look at you. You know," and he laughed, "the way you looked at me." 

Her leg suddenly came up so that her soft young pussy was in plain view. He 
took hold of her knee and brought the leg up and across his ribs, the motion 
making her slit seem twice as long. The red-veined inner lips stuck out of 
her like tiny slices of pale liver, as slick as nature and her cunt 
drippings could make them. 

He said quietly: "Raise your leg a little. Your knee. Put your foot against 
me. There, that's it. Oh, baby, it's so sweet!" 

He knew how hot she was, and realized that getting his nuts off, licking his 
cream, having this first complete, wild experience, would have brought her 
to an even higher level. But he thirsted for the juicy warmth, the clear, 
sweet ooze from her cunt, and for the soft, smooth, wetly delightful 
textures of her youthful pussy. To give her one final cum, that would be a 
blessing, not a wrong. 

He luxuriated for a few moments in the pleasure of having his depleted cock 
mouthed by this tender young chickie, so close to him in every way. Her 
breasts were just touching his belly; they felt smooth and warm against him. 

With his fingers, he very gently pressed on both sides of her thick cunt 
lips, pulling them wide open. This was the same spot where he had pressed 
when she had asked him to "please do that again," so short a time ago. Just 
to touch her! And now they were both into it very deeply, committed to-well, 
what in hell were they committed to, really? To helping each other, that was 
all. Really, he was helping her, as she had begged him to. But the 
piercingly sweet, heady aroma from her gamey little cunt swept all that 
rationalizing nonsense out of his head. 

He could feel her body tense. She was smarter than he had been. She expected 
him to assault her young cunt with mouth and tongue, to kiss her clitoris, 
to suck on her streaming, quivering little hole. Indeed, her strong young 
body was making a soft, pleading fuck motion, thrusting those soft, thick 
lips toward his mouth. He could hear her moaning: "MMMMMMMMMMMM! 
MMMMMMMMMMMM!" And he knew that she was, already, on the razor edge of 
another big orgasm. 

He wasted no time. With his eager mouth wide open, he went down on her 
spread of wetly shining labia, licking carefully and well around her 
jumping, jerking clit. The amount of juice he got was incredible. She exuded 
that sweet-salt fluid like a grown woman. Like a very hot grown woman. And 
her body's response was in keeping. 

She shot her body toward him so hard that his lower lip was smashed against 
the solidity of her pubic arch. Her curly cunt hair grated sweetly across 
his chin, and the straggling hairs along the fat, rounded outer lips tickled 
his cheeks, his nose. He could feel when the child began to cum, and again 
he had to hold her as her lithe, firm body launched into its sexual orbit. 
Her inner thighs were smooth and hot against his cheeks, her strong buttock 
muscles were clasping and relaxing as the flow of sex heat, bursting far up 
inside her young vagina, almost seemed to warm his face as it shook her 
body. 

"OH ME!" the child cried in a high, choking wail. "THAT'S TOO MUCH, DADDY! 
TOOOOOO MUUUUUUCCCHHHHHH! OH MY GOODNESS! OH, GOD! OH, MY CUNT, DADDY! 
PLEASE DO ME! PLEASE EAT MEEEEEE! OHHHHHHHHH!" 

The long, high wail dropped to a succession of groans. "OOOH! OOOOOOH! 
UMMMMMMMMM! UMMMMMMMMM!" 

She was fucking very hard against him, not drawing her body back to slam 
against his face, but in long, slow, up-and-back motions which rubbed her 
open, streaming cunt against his mouth and lips and chin, against his nose 
and forehead. And all the time, he knew she was cumming. His own cock had 
grown hard again, supercharged with jism at the very idea of sucking this 
child and having her suck him. He had thought he would be dry in the balls, 
but he somehow had his cock against her soft neck, under her chin, between 
her jaw and shoulder. It was slick from semen and spit, and her neck was 
almost as smooth as her mouth. Or her cunt. And the taste and flavor and 
response he was getting as he licked her pussy was enough to drive him wild. 
When he felt his nuts begin to pop, it was too late to do anything about it. 
He was shooting his cum against her neck and chin, and some of it had to be 
running down her breasts. 

She was so hot and so happy, so far above herself, that she let the hot jets 
of her dad's seed strike her three of four times, clasping her orgasming 
cunt together to get the most joy from that, and then she deliberately 
opened her mouth. She held his cock and let the slick juice shoot in, 
grinning, lascivious, swallowing the rich sperm, licking her lips, feeling 
the flutter of a final surge of cumming inside her cunt. 

When his last weak burst of the pale, thick, hot fluid throbbed out, she 
hastily put the red head in her mouth and sucked, hoping to get any stray 
drops lingering inside the penis. When she felt she had it all, she fell 
back, her breasts quaking. 

"OOOOOOOOOHHH, DADDY!" she moaned. "OOOOOOOOOHHH! How lovely! OH, THANK YOU! 
DADDY! OHHHHHHHHH!" Her entire body surged in a great heave as his face fell 
against her opened split. She was so sensitized that the merest touch shot 
through her like lightning. But for the moment, although her cum nerves were 
raw and willing, her body felt sated. 

Her dad was, in a way, stunned. In another way, he was intensely proud of 
himself. Two big, blasting orgasms in a matter of minutes! Wow! And knowing 
exactly what to do to his daughter to get her off the hook, as well as 
himself, without doing that dreadful thing. Without fucking her. Very 
carefully, holding his arm around the girl's slender but womanly rump, he 
poked his finger directly into her fuck hole. As far as he could tell, it 
did not meet an obstacle. Oh, well, some girls lost maidenheads by riding a 
bike, or a pony. Or from a cucumber, he mentally added. 

There was a mutter of a car's engine in the drive outside, and he got up, 
smacking his daughter's ass playfully. "Your mom is home," he said 
unnecessarily. 

The girl lay on her back, smiling dreamily. Her powerful young thighs were 
spread apart, and he could see the wet look of her pink inner cunt lips and 
the seepage of pussy juice down her crack, disappearing between her 
buttocks. She was smiling dreamily, the back of one small, warm hand against 
her lips. A car door slammed. 

"Get up, baby," he grinned. "Get your nightie on and get under the covers. 
I'll be taking a shower. 'Bye!" 

He knew it would still take Connie a couple of minutes to close the garage 
door and get her keys out. Their room was at the front. Their bath had a 
door on the hall, and he went in, quickly turning on the taps, getting his 
clothes off. He was in there, soaping his cock and balls, singing happily, 
when Connie opened the door. 

"Hi, baby," he called above the splashing water. "Have a good meeting?" 

"Oh, all right, I guess," his wife replied. "But I got the curse. Two days 
early, damn it!" She opened the shower door and felt his soapy prick. "You 
could have me, anyway, darling," she said. "But I'd sure be messy." 

"It's all right, dear," he said. "I'm okay. But maybe in the morning, 
right?" 

She stroked his cock again. "Wonderful man," she whispered. And she meant 
it. He had made her life good for twelve years. What a marvelous husband he 
was to her. And what a wonderful father to little Janice! 

 Chapter Four 

Dick had thought he would go right off to sleep. After all, for a guy 
forty-four years old, two big loads of fuck juice, both shot in less than a 
half-hour, you'd have to figure he'd be drained. 

But, if perhaps his balls were emptied, at least his mind wasn't. 

He had been so concerned with the immediate beauty and appeal of little 
Jannie's body that he couldn't stay on the subject of the party which had 
started it all. What had they done to her? Besides inflame her mind by a 
little exhibition of sucking, that is. What else had happened? He turned in 
the bed, trying to keep down mental pictures of a house full of pubescent 
kids, letting it all hang out, fucking on the sofa, the floor. 

Unaccountably, his cock throbbed. By God, if Connie were asleep, he'd go 
back to Janice right now, and get all the lovely details. 

Had they tried anything with her? Must have. The bruise on one titty, the 
scratch on the other. Her dress ripped. And her panties gone completely. 
Something had happened. 

He knew that girls, especially when they're in a show-off mood, as Mary 
McCarty had obviously been, can be wilder, tougher, more cruel than boys. 
Particularly where another girl is concerned. 

He could imagine little Jannie, shocked at the lascivious picture of a big 
boy spurting his semen all over a girl who has been sucking him off, making 
a protest. Frightened as much by her own heat as by the seeming vulgarity of 
open sexual exhibitionism. It almost made his cock begin to rise. It did 
throb again. 

They could have held her down, letting the boys-four of them, wasn't that 
what Jannie had said?-feel her up, maybe lick at her sweet little slit. And, 
in the violent horseplay, her light dress could have been ripped. A little 
rough, getting a bleeding scratch on that tender little boob. 

He remembered those breasts, and how they had swollen to much greater size 
when she had fired her little joy gun. God damn it, she was a hot little 
kid! He thought of the times she had writhed and screamed in orgasms that 
were certainly not little-girl stuff. Like a grown woman. Like her mother. 

His mind painted an active, brightly colored picture of Jannie with her 
young, beautifully rounded ass bare, her shapely, strong legs kicking, her 
lightly haired little pussy growing hotter and hotter. Man, she had sure as 
hell been hot when she got home! It must have really stoked her, that first 
brush with the ruggedly lovely realities of cock-meets-cunt. He groaned 
unconsciously and turned back as he had been. Son of a bitch! This was 
terrible, letting a young kid's cunt keep him awake! But he thought of that 
warmly juicy little hole, and his finger going in so easily. But that was 
madness. He was thinking really wrong, now. Maybe my cock would go in there 
just as easily as my finger did. Oh, hell. Of course she would be tight. Any 
kid her age would be tight. Probably force the skin back off the head, maybe 
even hurt both of them a little. 

Once again he moved restlessly, and this time something happened. 

He heard Connie's sleepy voice, so kind, so warm. 

"My dear, what's the matter? Can't you sleep?" 

And with her hand, soft and warm and knowing, coming down to his crotch, she 
made a loving, wordless sound as she tenderly felt of his cock, squeezing 
it. She began moving her lovely, solid body, turning all the way, and Dick 
didn't have the heart to stop her, to tell her to forget it. 

"No wonder you couldn't get to sleep, poor baby," she said in a maternal 
croon. "Let mama suck all that good old stuff right out. Then you'll go 
bye-bye." Her chuckle was rich and warm, and Dick, seeing her lovely body, 
almost completely naked in the dim light, thought: Oh, God, let me have a 
big enough load for her. Let me be able to cum real good, so she won't begin 
guessing. 

He did not need to fake a move of his loins as Connie's warm, knowledgeable 
mouth took his cock into her hotly engulfing mouth. She had taught him that 
sex is one sport where the talented amateur is superior to the most skillful 
professional. As her lips and tongue and cheeks and throat muscles worked on 
him gently, and with love, he put his face against the softly resilient 
flesh and hair of her pubis. Even in menstruation, she was as clean as a 
cat. He could see the string of her tampon hanging out of the thick, full 
lips of her pussy, even fatter than usual because of her period. 

It made him wonder how Jannie would be, how her cunt might look when she was 
undergoing the human equivalent of an animal being "in heat". Swollen cunt, 
protruding back of her when she was on hands and knees for a dog-fashion 
fuck? Sweet and appealing in odor, like her mother, even if a bit gamier? 

Connie felt his big cock swell and throb, and grinned as well as she could, 
with this big roll of meat going clear back to her throat. 

It made her suck just a wee bit harder, made her polish the head with her 
tongue in a more fervent stroke. And it made her appreciate her husband all 
the more. I'm so glad he wants me, she thought. I'm so glad we have so many 
ways to go. Even when I've got the rag on, and she smiled inwardly at her 
use of a phrase that had been old stuff even in her mother's child-bearing 
years. 

She knew that this act of love would set her own cum juices to flowing, set 
her own needs and desires to making their insistent inner clamor. So, I'll 
lie awake a while, she mused. It's not as tough on me as it is on him. 

With his face against the warmth of his wife's belly, his forehead against 
the smoothness of her thighs, his mind on their daughter's cute little 
pussy, Dick Haire should have felt like a rotten heel. But he couldn't. 
Maybe a little guilty, sure. But he was a pragmatist. He knew what he was-a 
human male. And he deeply believed that sex was good. As long as nobody got 
hurt. Hell, he was helping Jannie, wasn't he? 

The thought of Jannie had never left him. Even when Connie had taken his 
cock in her mouth. Jannie wasn't as good. But, then, she hadn't the 
experience. So he thought of Jannie's sweet young mouth around the head of 
his prick, and it throbbed again. And Connie involuntarily fucked against 
Dick's face. Just one small movement. And his nose was again right at the 
top of her sweetly humid crack. 

His mouth filled with saliva as he thought of the sweetness of their 
daughter's smooth, childish, soft lipped little snatch. The lips were almost 
as thick as those of this woman who was sucking him off. And almost 
hairless. With firm fingers, he pulled the upper part of those fat lips away 
from each other. And once again, he thought how sweet his wife's cunt was. 
Of how, even in menstruation, the fragrance might be a bit more powerful, 
but never offensive. Not to me, baby, he thought. 

But it was really his other "baby," Janice, and her sweet little split, that 
he had in mind. As he sank his lips into that meaty, slick, splendidly gamey 
trench of woman flesh. As he licked gently around the hard and throbbing 
clitoris. It felt so smooth, so slick to his mouth, his tongue. And so 
marvelously, delightfully flavorful! Oh, Jannie, my darling! Oh, Jannie, 
baby, you're making me cum! You're making old daddy cum, baby! Three times! 

And he was right and honest. That warmly loving mouth, so hotly sucking him, 
could be Jannie's. In the dark, as his lips swept around that swollen, 
cum-crazy little bud of gristle and nerves, that was Jannie's, too. Oh, 
glory! If only he could go down farther, get his mouth over that cute, 
sweet, pinkly bubbling little cunt hole! Suck out all its lovely juice! But 
he knew better. And anyhow, the thing was happening. 

He felt Connie's ripe body go tense just as he felt the premonitory 
throbbing deep in his cock. 'Way back', 'way deep in', where the very root 
of the cock connects with the electric convulsions of the prostate gland, 
the little man who pulls the trigger for a cum. Her softly sheathed muscles 
grew firmer, her strong body had the momentary stillness of the crouching 
tiger. His tongue and lips felt the powerful flutter of cunt muscle, even up 
here at the top of her slit, where his lips fastened tightly over her clit. 
And she felt her salivary glands gush their fluids in anticipation of the 
rich, sticky, thick, tasty seed which were already on their way to her hard 
tongue, her waiting taste buds, her jism-hungry mouth. 

His loins moved in hard thrusts, sending his cock deep into her loving 
throat, and she was fiercely glad for the painfully marvelous stretch in her 
muscled gullet. It meant that her lover, her husband, was getting the heavy 
massage he needed to coax out every drop of his load, every pushy drop of 
that hot, raw, man stuff that was keeping him awake. 

God bless him! she thought in fierce tenderness, gently holding his balls as 
her own dark, gut-twisting orgasm boomed silently inside her, far up her 
vagina, in the pit of her belly. He's kissing it better than he ever did, 
she thought. How many men will eat their wife when she's got the curse? 

The thrill of it tore her lips away from the wet, nerve-raw cock. In the 
terrible, beautiful abandon of love and cunt-fired lust, she let go her 
deepest emotions in screams that seemed to tear at her strong throat: 
"AAAIIIEEEEEEEEE! AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH! AAARRRGGGHHH! 
AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OH MY GOD, MY GOD, MY GOD! OH BEAUTIFULLLLLLLLL! 
AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!" 

Even under the covers, it was ear piercing, and Dick, feeling his wife's 
convulsive grip on his penis, feeling her entire body jerk as the cuntal 
spasming seemed to go on and on, buried his nose and lips and tongue all the 
deeper in her cunt. Outside, it was fatter and far hairier than little 
Jannie's. Inside, in the moving slickness of raw cuntal tissue, it was the 
same. 

In her room, with a big bath and another bedroom between, and with her solid 
door shut, Jannie shivered as she heard the high, carnal wail of love and 
orgasm. 

She had scraped up all her daddy's thick, congealing semen from her sheets. 
It wasn't as delicious, cold, as it was fresh from the parental prick. So, 
she had put it into her navel to warm, and dabbing it up with her fingers, 
warm from her body's heat, when the passionate sound vibrated through the 
house. 

"OOOOOOHHH!" she groaned in a sympathetic tremor of cuntal never-crawl. 
"OOOOOOHHH, MAMA!" 

It never occurred to her that her daddy was cheating on her. Humbly, she was 
grateful for what he had done. And she felt no womanly competitiveness 
toward her mother. It was all so lovely, so warm, so sweet. 

If he had expected to feel different in the morning, Dick Haire got a 
pleasant surprise. Because he always had, he held an arm out to Janice as 
she came to breakfast in the bright, many-windowed room off the kitchen. And 
Connie, her heart full, her guts more comfortable, smiled with deep love and 
pleasure as Jannie nestled against Dick and bent down for his kiss. 

It was a short kiss, of course, for neither Dick nor Janice was an idiot. 
But the little girl's tongue speared warmly into Dick's barely opened lips, 
and he sucked it hard for some seconds. And her warm little belly pressed 
against him, telling him something heavy. Like "I can't say it, but I want 
your cock!" 

But that had been a long time ago. Nearly three months. And after eight 
weeks of intimacy which increased only very slightly, but in which their 
mutual heat did not decrease at all, they were to the point where they took 
every opportunity to spend a few moments together. Anywhere. In Dick's car, 
when he would meet her after school. They'd go down to the Bluffs, a small 
community jammed up against the ocean. Sitting in the back seat. How 
marvelous for Jannie! 

For she had never done this with a boy. After all, at thirteen, not many 
girls really "date" all that much. They go to little parties, or sneak away 
to big ones. And sometimes it's just a spontaneous get-together. Like if you 
went over to a girl friend's, maybe Mary McCarty's home. And some other kids 
came by and things got too wild. Only, Janice wasn't as scared about such 
things as she had been. Oh, my, no. Her daddy had given her the word on 
that. 

"Those things are natural, baby," he had said, holding her in his arms in 
the back seat of the car while she gently skinned his dick up and down in 
her warm, soft hand. "Sex is all right, any or all of it. As long as both 
parties are willing, and nobody gets hurt. OOOOOOHHH! WOW! HOLD IT! HEY, 
JANNIE!" And she would giggle as his gush of warm, thick sperm shot into the 
air, and she would grin like a she-wolf as she bent to get all the 
subsequent shots of his load right down her pretty pink throat. 

"OOOOOOHHHHHH-EEEEEE!" Dick would exclaim, shuddering in the most intense 
delight. "That was so good, baby! WOW! Now," and he would take his hand off 
her lovely little breasts-only they weren't so little, and seemed to get 
larger every time they played this loving game-lean back and get your legs 
up, and let me eat your pussy!" 

It was so wet and slippery and reddened from the fire that came from sucking 
Dick off, so deliciously warm, so fantastically juicy, that he would drool 
as he got on his knees with her smooth young thighs against his cheeks. And 
her dry, sweet cunt hair tickling his nose while her mature cuntal aromas 
almost choked him with love. 

"OHHH, DADDY!" Her high treble voice would ring in his ears as she grasped 
his dark hair. "OH, THAT'S BEAUTIFUL! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! PLEASE! OH, DADDY!" 
And then she'd whisper: "Little higher, daddy. There! THERE! THAT'S IT!" And 
her legs would wrap around his head, holding his face buried in the softly 
convulsing inner lips, so slick and hot, living flesh, cunt flesh, softer 
and" slicker and sweeter than any other woman-part in anybody's body. 

Or, if there were too many folks along the Bluffs to risk going all out-or 
"all in" as Jannie said one day-they would sit huddled in the back seat like 
any other lovers. Only, under the cover of a newspaper, his cock would be in 
Jannie's hand, and he would be finger-fucking her. Until they both came. 

And between whiles, they would talk. Talk, talk, talk! Always about sex. And 
he learned he had guessed right about the party at Mary McCarty's Janice 
told him all about it. Not all at one sitting, or one fingering, or one 
sucking. Whatever you care to call it. But a little here, a little at home 
when mama was at a meeting, a little when they would be driving home. 

"It's okay, now" Jannie laughed. "Gee, I've done a lot of growing up in a 
few weeks. Not there, silly," she would say, when her daddy would reach out 
a warm hand and squeeze one of her lovely titties. "But they are bigger, 
aren't they? No, I mean growing up in my attitudes. Golly, that night when 
they grabbed me and Mary held one leg and Tricia Blake held the 
other-whoo-eee! And Roy Willard pulled off my panties. Golly, I must have 
lit up the sky, I blushed so hard when they began to laugh at my pussy!" 

"Laugh?" Dick said in spite of his resolve to show no shock. "What was there 
to laugh at?" 

"Oh, one of the guys, Sammy Priest, maybe, said it looked like his kid 
sister's. Except she had more hair. Damn him! And Roy said: 'Well, you bang 
her, don't you? See if little Miss Priss here is as tight as Mamie.' That's 
his sister's name. Marnie. Did I say she's eleven? And he was trying to get 
his, uh, his prick into me, on that chair arm, when Harry Tenison jerked him 
off me and told them all to let me up and leave me alone." She shifted in 
the seat of the car, and he knew that the recounting of the scene had given 
her a sharp little twist of raw nerves up inside her pussy. It inflamed him 
immediately, so that he pulled over to the curb-they were away from town and 
in the residential area-and held her to him, kissing her with both their 
tongues strong and slick and warm against each other. 

"Tenison? Tenison? Big kid, real dark, sort of pop eyes and big teeth? But 
he's a lot older than you. I went to school with his dad. His mother, too." 

"He's sixteen, I guess," Jannie replied. "But I'm glad he was there. Gee!" 
She shivered and kissed her dad again. "I want the first guy that does it to 
me to be-well, someone I love. Someone I really trust. Otherwise, it would 
be, well, like rape, wouldn't it?" 

He moved over to the driver's seat but left his hand on her thigh. She 
pulled her skirt up so that his hand could rest on her warm, smoothly alive 
flesh, giggling. He cleared his throat. "Got to happen someday, baby," he 
said noncommittally. "Are you doing the things we talked about? I know I got 
my finger into you, that first night." He shuddered, remembering it. "But 
you were certainly tight. You know I don't want you to hurt yourself, but 
you have to sort of, uh, open it up a little. I don't want some long-cocked 
kid hurting you, either. That'd be worse." 

She laughed and reached over to touch his cock. It was lying along his 
thigh, big and half-hard under his slacks, and she stroked it round the 
head. "I'm bigger," she laughed. "But you sure won't talk about me getting 
it from you! We do everything else. Why don't you do it to me?" 

He laughed at her childish phrase, "do it", and Janice flushed. "All right," 
she said. "You know it's hard for me to say those words. Even to you. But if 
I said: 'Daddy, please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!' a hundred times, 
you wouldn't do it." 

She looked out the window, and he fancied she might have tears in her eyes. 

"God knows, I want to, baby," he said. "But it's so-what's that word your 
generation uses so much? Heavy? When you mean dangerous, or of extreme 
significance. And we do have a lot of fun." He knew he sounded defensive. 
And he knew he was a fool. He was going to fuck her. He'd acknowledged that 
to himself on that first crazy night. He was going to fuck her. But he 
hadn't let himself be pushed to the point of no return. It was, indeed, sort 
of heavy. To fuck your child. Even if she wasn't his very own, a child 
sprung from his own loins couldn't be any closer. 

"I guess I'm being chicken," he said. "If you'd ever screwed someone 
else-HEY! I'm not urging you to go out and get laid! You know what I mean!" 

She was calm again, sympathetic again. "If it hadn't been for good old 
Harry," she laughed. "If Roy or Sammy or Dave Burton had stuck it in me, it 
wouldn't be wrong for you to, is that it?" 

"Oh, shit!" the man cried good naturedly. "No! That's not it at all! Oh, 
God, how I wish we were at home, and your mother wasn't! I'd sure love to go 
down on you!" 

And that's how it had gone. Always something doing when they were together. 
She knew every wrinkle in his scrotum, every tiny pink fold inside his 
thick, soft foreskin. And she really was content. It just seemed a lot of 
fun to needle daddy. Made her feel grown up. 

And she and Mary McCarty went right on being friends, and eating together at 
school, and standing, talking, waiting for the bus, mornings and afternoons. 
But she hadn't gone over to study at Mary's since that crazy night, and they 
never kidded about sex, the way they used to. They knew too much about each 
other. 

Jan knew that Mary fucked Roy Willard. To say the least. As a matter of 
fact, they had all talked about what they called "a round robin," and Roy 
had said: "Come on, kid. You know what that means, don't you? That's where 
everybody fucks everybody else." And Mary had grinned and nodded, squeezing 
one of Janice's breasts. Ugh! She could feel it now, that strange heat that 
came so sickly into her cunt as another girl fooled with her warm, throbbing 
breasts, her scared but drooly little split. 

Of course, Roy kidded her. Subtly, for him. "How's your homework coming, 
kid?" he'd asked. "If you need help, remember, old daddy Roy's a real 
slick-dick at math!" 

And Harry had come over just as Jannie left, so she never knew what he said 
to Roy. Probably told him to lay off or he'd beat up on Roy. He could do it, 
too. Even if Roy was on the first team at Santa Elena High School. So was 
Harry, and he was bigger and tougher than Roy. She knew where Harry stood. 
Or thought she did. 

"You're stupid," Harry had said. "What you dumb assholes did at that party, 
that's no way to get into little Jannie's virgin twat. Very un-cool, man, 
very un-cool. She's like a wild, soft, sweet little bunny rabbit. That's 
softer and sweeter than a pussy cat. She's got to trust you. When she trusts 
you, then you've got it half in." 

"Okay, Don Juan," Roy had laughed. "I'd rather just hold her down and shove 
it in her. My dad says there are two things to know about girls. One is: If 
they're big enough, they're old enough. And second: They'll all fuck, once 
you get in 'em!" 

But naturally, little Jannie didn't hear this. And she really was beginning 
to trust Harry. But not as much as she trusted daddy. 

And some very strange things happened during those eight weeks or so. That 
time before Connie saw her daughter and her husband lying together, bare-ass 
naked, playing with each other. Of course, some strange things happened to 
Connie, afterward. 

But what happened to Dick was a brand new, highly charged interest in sex. 
Specifically, in Connie's warm, firm, welcoming body and all of its lovely 
components. He had always been pretty ardent, for a guy in his mid-forties, 
married to the same woman for twelve years. Not some thin-blooded Saturday 
night lover. Not Dick! Much of it, he knew, was Connie's own sex drive. When 
she felt that glow up her cunt, she'd reach out for him. And he had always 
thought that he was pretty close to his limit. Just with Connie. 

But now, he could shoot his load of hot and sticky fuck juice into Jannie's 
mouth, or her armpit or between her warm, smooth thighs held tightly 
together, and go home hungering for Connie's pussy. 

"You've gotten recharged, you lovely man," Connie would say, holding his 
cock, jacking the skin up and down, grinning up at him while love-slobber 
seeped out of her cunt's slick folds. "I'd almost think you were screwing 
somebody downtown, or wanted to and couldn't. But I never yet tasted pussy 
on your tool," and she gave it a loving shake before plopping her sweet 
mouth around it. "Or smelled perfume on you or found lipstick on your 
shorts." 

"Or leg make-up on my cheeks," he'd answered. But he thought: It's weird. I 
must be manufacturing semen and sperm enough for two. It made him laugh, 
because that's exactly what he was doing. His balls were still secreting-and 
excreting-enough jism for two. Wonderful! 

All his senses were engaged in his love for Connie. He loved to kiss her, 
suck her tongue, then let go and suck on her lower lip, holding it gently 
with his teeth and running his tongue along its slick inner surfaces, and 
against her teeth and gums. He loved the feel of her flesh, anywhere on her 
body, but especially under her arms, or on the moist underside of her 
titties, where they hung in all their splendid weight on her rib cage. Or 
between her asscheeks, or her thighs, or, by holding her thick cunt lips 
open, to rub his cheeks in the richly tinted rosette of cunt flesh. 

And to taste her! To lick her sweat on the flesh of her groin, in the 
depression between her outer cunt lips and her thighs. To nibble the hairs 
at the warm entrance to her twat, when her exuded cunt juice had dried. How 
wonderful it felt to her, too, as he chewed the dried cum delicately from 
crisply curled hairs. Because to her, it was a promise of the hard, loving, 
man sized peter that was going to stretch her body, lift her to the peak of 
a dark wave, make her orgasm burst in her depths like a shower of black 
light. 

To feel, to taste, to see. He loved it! He loved to lie with his face a few 
inches from the oozing lips of her split, studying each little crack and 
cranny and tiny wrinkle, studying the clear, shining film of fresh cunt 
spillings, noting the occasional unconscious twitching in that sensitive 
area as a microscopic cunt nerve let her knew it was alive. 

And the gorgeous completeness and lust-brewing composition of aromas that 
come from any hot, full blooded, full fleshed woman! Only, in Connie, they 
were stronger, richer, earthier than in any other woman he had ever known. 

So, in that time of his greatest love for her, when all the spouting, 
spurting orgasms he spent on their daughter could not cool his hot desire 
for her, they fucked and sucked like newlyweds trying to set new records for 
cumming generations to shoot at. 

Until that terrible afternoon, that horrid, deadly, numbing, soul-shaking 
afternoon when Connie had come home earlier than she had intended. Or, quite 
obviously, than Dick and Janice had thought. 

And, at that moment, if Connie had been less strong, less in command of her 
feelings, it might be that none of what happened might have happened. If she 
had confronted them, and screamed, and cursed, and slapped little Jannie, 
and generally kicked up a hellofa windstorm of human feeling, maybe Dick 
would never have gotten his big cock into Jannie's sweetly dripping, warmly 
pulsing, newly maturing little cunnie. 

But things did happen the way they did. And who knows what's best for us. 
Connie Haire's vessel of life seemed to crack wide open. But she hung on to 
what she had, including her sanity. 

She was a strong woman. She had to be, during the next few weeks. A thousand 
times, she had to remind herself that someday, all this would pass. Had to 
remind herself that Dick had been the most wonderful of husbands, that all 
men had flaws which made them suckers for sex. Especially when it came 
wrapped in a pink and white and juicily warm package of thirteen year old 
flesh and bone and blood and thirteen-year-old cunt's preciously slimy 
delights. 

Each day was torture. Now, in the mornings when Dick held out a fatherly arm 
to Janice, and the child ran coltishly to the strength and warmth he'd 
always meant to her, Connie could see how they kissed. Could see Dick's 
cheeks sink in as he sucked the girl's tongue for two seconds. It was all 
she could do to refrain from running to Dick to feel his cock, or to 
restrain herself from jerking every dark hair from her daughter's head. 

And the nights? They were worse, in a way, because they brought the insanely 
puzzling, the irresistibly addictive, the ironically solacing miracle-Connie 
thought of it as a miracle-of her husband's loving, his big, hard cock, his 
unfailing ability to arouse her to slavering, feverish, babbling lust. When 
his cock tasted and smelled like all the flowers of Heaven and Hell. When 
its hardness was a reminder of the bright past and a painfully doubtful 
future. 

For Dick, completely unknowing, totally unaware that Connie even suspected 
his ephemeral romance with their daughter, continued to be fruitful and 
filled-or re-filled-every day with the rich, thick, pearly-white jism. 
Daily, he had his stolen moments with Jannie. But every night, the 
emanations of heat and emotion from Connie's smoothly sensuous body, 
together with some hidden need to reassure himself that his marriage ties 
were still not frayed, brought him to her in near-silence, in hot immediacy, 
in honest, potent lust. 

And she, strong in everything but the power to hate, fighting back tears and 
questions, let her mouth be silenced by the kisses that locked them together 
at the mouth almost as deeply as cock and cunt locked their bodies together 
at their loins. 

In the dark, Dick's eyes could see the lighter slash between the dark, rich 
fur on Connie's soft, fat, warmly delicious cunt lips. The perfume of 
superheated cunt flesh was thick and good under the sheets as he loved her 
pussy with his strong lips, his knowing tongue. He would speak brokenly: "My 
love! My baby! Oh, God, you're so great! The best of them all!" 

And, with that big, beloved cock buried in her reeking, responsive cunt, 
when all her fuck system was answering her deepest needs, all ideas, all 
sickening thoughts of this well loved cock soaking and hammering in another 
hole would leave her. Sometimes, when they were locked together in love, 
with his seed pouring into her in lavish, hot spurts, and her body was lost 
from the immediate world in warm black waves of orgasm, she forgot 
everything. Everything except the blood-warmed riot of joy in her loins, the 
screaming pleasure of her cunt, her clit, her rectum, all those fiercely 
happy places of fire and love. 

And she would listen, smiling, while Janice talked to her and to Dick, and 
Dick answered Jan but included Connie. Trying to understand them. Trying to 
understand herself. Trying to work out in her mind what they were really 
saying. And trying, hoping, to find a way to help them as well as herself. 

Yes. To help them. 

For by now, after days of mental tempests and nights of what she still 
considered love, Connie knew that there were no villains in her house, only 
victims. And that somewhere deep inside each of them, for all their strength 
and brightness, there had to be dark places of shame and remorse and pain. 
For what they were doing to her, to each other, to themselves. 

But, at the same time, there was a tiger inside her that did not respond to 
this saintliness. 

She never refused Dick anything. When he went to her crotch, laughing in the 
half-light of their bedroom, she welcomed the feel and taste and smooth 
warmth of his heavy cock in her mouth. And she sucked it with all the 
proficiency she always had. And almost with the same love. Like the old-time 
preacher, she might hate the sin in Dick and Jannie. But she loved the 
sinners. Oh, lover, cum in my mouth! Oh, best of men, shoot your shining, 
slick, delightful cum in my throat, to pour over my taste buds, to delight 
my lust for your jism! Suck me out, darling, suck every drop of me out of my 
squirming, juicing, slickly convulsing cunt! Ram your dear tongue into my 
pussy, ream out my asshole, oh my greatest of lovers! And give me your 
juice, the slick seed from your wonderful balls, the sweat from your groin, 
the loving rankness of your hairy crotch! 

And then, as Dick's voluptuous brutality of tongue and teeth and sucking 
lips would trigger the blazing eruption of wracking orgasm far up in the 
dark of her body, blasting out in sheet-lightning waves through her keenly 
turned nerves, she would silently scream around the throbbing of his cock: 
"OH, LOVER! MY GODDDDDD, LOVER! SUCK ME, SUCK ME, SUCK MEEEEEE! OH, DICKIE, 
I'M CUUMMMMMMIIINNNGGG! OH, LOVER, YOU'RE KILLING MEEE! SUCK ME! SUCK MEEE!" 

Until the vibration of her smothered voice around the nerved up, blood 
gorged cock would bring his powerful jets of semen, and he would silently 
bless her for what she was. 

And for the loving daughter she had given him. 

For there was some mystic tie that bound them all together, so that, when 
Dick was sucking or fucking Connie, he was fucking and sucking Janice. They 
were of the same flesh and blood. He had found no difference in them except 
in size, which was natural, in degree of maturity in breast and cunt and hip 
and butt and leg. 

And if little Jannie had thought, during those weeks when she yearned so for 
Dick's cock, that he was hopelessly hung up on some black, deeply buried 
fear of incest, she should have asked herself: "Why, if he doesn't mean to 
fuck me, did he get me started on The Pill? Does he want me to fuck someone 
else first?" 

She should have known, all along, that he had known he would fuck her from 
the moment she sat in his lap, and his cock had been warmed by the warmth of 
her tender young ass, her sweet young cunt. 

 Chapter Five 

Oh, it was a chaotic time for Connie, her emotions going up and down like a 
yo-yo, until her mind rebelled and she was able to see all of it as a part 
of the comedy of life. She remembered a passage from a book that had been 
required reading in college, in English 4. By Anatole France. "Life," the 
sage old man had written, "is a comedy for those who think; a tragedy for 
those who feel." 

In her youth and confidence, she had underlined it, thinking: "That's me, 
Anatole, baby. I think, so life's a comedy." 

For a long time, she had done nothing but feel, and life had, indeed, been a 
tragedy. Now, praise God, she was thinking again, and she saw herself, Dick, 
Janice, all as players in a comedy. "But what can I do to fatten my part?" 
she asked herself. And then she remembered a scrap of conversation from 
breakfast this morning. 

"How's Harry Tenison?" Dick had asked casually. "Same old pal? Your tough 
guy hero. Good kid." 

And Jannie had blushed slightly and said: "He stopped and spoke to me, just 
yesterday. First time since, I mean, in a long time." 

Connie was delighted. "Harry Tenison," she said aloud, sitting naked on her 
bed after Jannie had gone to catch the bus, and Dick had long since departed 
for Citrus City, where he had a meeting with a district rep and a wholesale 
client. "Her tough guy hero. My goodness gracious sake's alive!" 

She got up and looked at her full blown beauty in the triple mirror of her 
vanity. She knew Harry. Two of three of the ladies in a book study group had 
mentioned him. In connection with their daughters. Schoolboy cocksman, she 
gathered. And Connie had noted that one of the younger ladies, a teacher, 
had looked bemused when the ladies spoke of Harry's slickness with the high 
school girls. So she made a mental note: And the junior high school 
teachers, Connie had thought. Must be quite a boy. 

Looking at her superb body, a competitive devil raised his head somewhere 
inside her, and she thought: That's what I want, isn't it? To build up my 
part in this comedy of fuck and suck and cheat? And she thought: If Harry's 
banging my little daughter, maybe we might have a little comparison. For she 
had never doubted, during all this terrible time of doubt, of murderous 
chaos and frustration, that she was a better woman than her daughter. A 
better fuck. A truly prime piece of ass, which no thirteen year old girl can 
ever be. 

Maybe that was why she had been able to live through this. Maybe it was the 
knowledge, deep inside, that Janice was a novelty for Dick, not a 
replacement for herself. 

She stayed warm in the belly and crotch through the day. She knew where the 
high school hot shots hung out. A joint called-oh, those clichs!-The Sugar 
Bowl, where big-breasted young girls presided behind the fountain, raising 
their hands to fix their hair so their titties would be most evident, and 
smoothing their tight uniforms over their hips to emphasize their 
two-hour-glass figures and by these overt actions to say: Hey, man, look at 
my warm young belly and my big thighs and all my other warm little goodies! 

At a quarter to three, she parked in front of the Sugar Bowl. Like Dick, she 
had known Harry Tenison a long time. And strangely, she felt loose and warm 
and excited when he suddenly came around the corner with two other boys. She 
knew the other kids, too. Sammy Priest and Roy Willard. All on the Santa 
Elena High school football team. God, they were big mothers! 

She wasn't obvious, at least she tried not to be. She had worn a very modest 
dress, skirt just above the knee, dark brown panty hose, sheer to the waist. 
As the boys came close, she opened the car door, reached one foot for the 
ground, then turned her body to reach for her purse, thoughtfully in the 
back seat. 

Her timing was absolutely perfect. As she stretched, her skirt came up quite 
naturally. Her left leg was stretched toward the ground while her right leg 
went back to the right hand side of the car. In quiet satisfaction, she saw 
the boys turn into the Sugar Bowl's door with dazed and pleasantly excited 
looks on their faces. They stopped inside the door, their heads together, 
whispering, and Harry looked quickly over his shoulder, then jerked his head 
away. 

I gave them a real flash of Little Greasy, she said to herself, using a pet 
name she had had for her cunt since she was twelve. And then, as she stood 
on the black-top parking area, she raised her hands to fool with her hair, 
making her fine breasts stand out like huge avocados, then smoothed the 
belted dress over her hips. To show herself and what she had to offer. Like 
the girls behind the fountain. 

The place was filling up, and seating was at a premium. Sophie Dunn, the 
owner, said: "Hi, Miz Haire," and to the three boys, who had taken a table 
along the window, she said: "One of you dummies give Miz Haire a seat." 

It was Harry who started to get up, but Connie, feeling absolutely on top on 
the situation, put her hand on his shoulder and pressed him down. She smiled 
at Sophie and at the other boys, and said: "Just move over, guys. I'll sit 
by Harry" 

The kids were amazingly poised, Connie thought. Each of them had seen her 
crotch-she had made sure of that-and she knew they were probably thinking of 
that dark smudge of cunt hair so explicit under the sheer garment. Yet they 
laughed, made conversation, and the other two obviously hurried through 
their drinks and got up, one of them saying: "We gotta run. See you all 
later." 

Connie was tickled and amused. Like some damn musical comedy, she thought. 
Only nobody would buy such a hackneyed plot action. Daughter angers mother, 
mother goes for daughter's boy friend. It's just too pat. But she found that 
her heart was beating faster. The boy seemed less sure of himself, now that 
the others were gone. And that meant, at least Connie thought so, that he 
actually did have something serious on his mind, something connected with 
her and the lush body she had shown him so clearly. No dummy, this kid. 

They drifted out into the parking lot, and Connie said, as if on impulse: 
"Let's drive up on the rim of the bluffs and watch the ocean," and added, 
"that is, if you don't have something to do." 

They were parked on a lonely stretch of high ground when Connie, again 
thinking how ridiculous this all was, and yet determined to carry it 
through, turned to the silent boy. She found him looking at her, dead 
panned, and she pulled her right thigh up, her knee bent, and said: "I won't 
be banal enough to say 'penny for your thoughts'. Unless boys have changed 
since I was your age, I know what you're thinking about. And I'll bet if I 
were my daughter's age, you wouldn't just be thinking. You'd be doing 
something about it." 

Again, she felt a surge of confidence, the assurance that she was in 
command. That ought to be direct enough for you, baby, she said in the dark 
of her mind, her heart pounding as she looked down at the big boy's lap and 
saw a long bulge along his thigh, under his slacks. 

To her surprise, Harry blushed. "I guess you're kidding me, Miz Haire," he 
said in a low voice. "Maybe if you were a little older than your daughter," 
and now he grinned. "I never had a date with her, you know. Saw her at Mary 
McCarty's not long ago. Not even a party. Just some kids dropped by." But he 
kept his gaze riveted on the inside of Connie's firm thigh, which looked 
larger, since she was, in a sense, sitting on it. 

She took one of his big hands. "Come on, Harry," she said. "I think I know a 
couple of teachers that, uh, have gone out of their way to give you some 
extra-curricular instruction. Or maybe to get a little from you. A little 
instruction," she laughed, and thought: Jesus! I never knew I could be so 
crude! 

The big kid put his arm up over her shoulders and pulled her to him, 
beginning to laugh. He was strong as an ox, she thought. When he gave her a 
slight tug, her whole body moved toward him, and he put his big hand down on 
the inside of her thigh, using his first two fingers to rub up and down on 
the soft bulge of her divided pussy where it almost burst out of the panty 
hose. His arm was so long that it went clear over her shoulder and under her 
left arm, and he squeezed her warmly resilient breast with careless 
brutality. 

When she raised her face and opened her mouth to protest, he boldly began to 
kiss her, and the way his tongue shot into her mouth left no doubt that he 
had committed himself to going as far as he could with her. And with his 
strength, and their isolation, Connie realized that it was his choice, not 
hers. And this reality, instead of panicking her, gave her a hard surge of 
excitement and heat, a feeling of abandoned wildness in mind and body. A 
stab of fuck pain, far up inside her, created a gush of vaginal fluids, and 
she thought: By the time this is over, I'll have to sit on a towel, going 
home. It was a brightly lascivious thought, and she reached for the boy's 
prick with as much natural motive as if she had, in fact, been a school 
girl. 

He leaned back, his eyes hot, and watched as Connie ran his zipper down and 
gently groped until she got her warm hands around his cock. It was not quite 
hard, but it was getting harder, and her mouth felt crowded by the sudden 
swelling of her tongue. 

"Son of a gun," she said in a gasping whisper, "do all kids your age have 
dongs like this?" She was looking at its purple head, emerging from its 
cloak of wrinkled, thick foreskin as his hard-on grew. She suddenly felt 
more serious about all of this, and a rush of heat and interest made her 
jack the soft, thick skin up and down. 

The boy was panting, too. "What about the back seat?" he asked. "That damn 
steering wheels in the way. And I've got to take off those panty hose, too." 
He licked his lips. "Unless you don't want to fuck," he said casually, 
watching her expression with hot eyes. "Some ladies get their jollies just 
by sucking me off." 

She eyed him good-naturedly. "I doubt that very much," she said. "You're a 
tough kid, but you don't know too much about women. I'm as hot as you'll 
ever know, and I might 'get my jollies,' as you say, by sucking my husband 
off, but not as much as I like. When I get hot, it takes more than one cum 
to cool me off." She watched him, now, and saw that he was less confident 
than his boldness and raunchy talk had indicated. Her maternal heart was 
touched. 

"Come on, baby," she whispered, patting him on the cheek, "get out and get 
in the back seat." She cast a quick look up and down the line of the bluffs. 
No one anywhere near. Good! She opened her door, pushed the bucket seat 
forward, and moved into the privacy of the big back seat, where she 
immediately began again to play with Harry's cock, kissing him deliriously 
as she pulled the skin over its head, then down, precisely and rhythmically. 

"There," she gasped, "it's hard again. Hey, do you want to pull my panty 
hose off, or shall I?" She held on to the boy with one hand, and the front 
seat with the other, and raised her warm, soft ass off the cushion. 

The boy's hand immediately went between her legs, making a good, exciting 
feeling on her thighs, and he grasped the waistband of the garment, getting 
them over her full hips and down to mid thigh. Connie sank back, glad she 
had brought a soft blanket along, spread under her. "That cold seat would 
freeze my ass off," she said, nestling her head against the tall, muscular 
kid. 

He was breathing hard, and he let out a little moan of interest and pleasure 
as he saw her thick-lipped pussy, close up and uncovered. But now he looked 
at her, and held one of her breasts, kneading it firmly, and she said: 
"Shit, man, you don't expect me to get naked, here on the bluffs? Do you?" 

He laughed nervously. "I'd sure like to suck on your titties," he said, his 
mouth watering for one of the big, soft boobs. "School girls just don't have 
such big, sweet, long old titties like this, Miz Haire." Something about his 
pleading look got under Connie's skin, and at the thought of this overgrown 
kid's thick lips and big mouth swallowing half her breast, she felt weakened 
by a rushing sweep of pure lust, all through the lower part of her body. 

It seemed much closer, much more intimate, somehow, in the back seat. As if 
it were a tiny bedroom. Too, there was a thick, rich aroma of hot cunt in 
the limited space, and it affected Connie as much as it did the big boy. She 
knew what she was going to do, but first, she held her arms out to Harry, 
and he swept her against him, shoving one hand down between her smooth, firm 
thighs. He wiggled the hand, and Connie, understanding, and wanting what he 
wanted, opened them, loving the hard feel as his big hand pressed 
demandingly against the soft, hairy cunt lips. 

"Lift it up," he gasped hoarsely, and, as the woman did as he asked, his 
fingers parted the thick, sealed lips, and they both groaned in ecstasy as 
his big hand rubbed all down her streaming split. He sawed up and down in 
the tenderness of her cuntal valley, and as she thrashed against him, one of 
his big fingers jabbed all the way into her vagina, deep, deep, stabbing 
against her cervix with a deeply, lovely pang of lust. She tried to scream 
her pleasure, but he was back at her mouth, now, and his strong tongue was 
deep in her throat. 

She had forgotten why she was here, forgotten what seemed like the silliness 
of an old-fashioned movie plot. This was real. In an instant of honesty, 
feeling a deep affection for this big kid who was not as confident as he 
appeared, she knew that all she wanted, at least in this moment, was to have 
this big, sweet young peter jamming and twisting in her cunt. 

Her dress was a shirtwaist style, and as she moved, its skirt came up over 
his hips. She was naked from her waist down, and she longed for a complete 
contact with Harry's long, powerful body. 

She had stopped pulling on his prick, fearing he would shoot his wad 
prematurely, but she cupped his big balls in her hand, holding them 
carefully, loving their wrinkled, hairy maturity. 

She was thinking: Oh, God, this is too much. I've got to shoot it! I've got 
to cum! She felt a giant swell of fuck-force in her guts, deep in the black 
warmth around her womb, and she suddenly let go of his cock to hand onto his 
arm, fucking with all her force against the fork of his hand. In a paroxysm 
of cumming, she wrenched her mouth away from his, and her wailing cry rang 
deafeningly in the car: "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OOOOOOWWWEEEEEE! OH GOD! FUCK ME, 
BABY! SHOVE IT IN ME DEEP! KILL ME, BABY! OH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME! 

He held on to her thrashing body as best he could with his one free arm, and 
his eyes glazed with his own lust as he unconsciously protected his cock 
from any contact. He had never had a woman like this and never expected to. 
The writhings and outcries of the young kids he fucked most seemed infantile 
and affected. This woman, a real woman, a whole woman in her own right, 
seemed like every beautiful wet dream he had ever had, every lovely cunt he 
had ever wanted. 

She was raising the roof, fucking as strongly as before, and he held her 
breathlessly, his young mind fertile with the hot idea of having his cock 
where his fingers were. "OHHHHHH! OH, HARRY BABY! IT'S SOOOOOO 
GOOOOOOOOOOOD! AAAAAAARRRRRR RGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! Shove! SHOVE! 
OH, BABY! YOU'RE SOOO GOOOOOODDD! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 

As suddenly as she had gone into this massive cum-fit, the graciously built 
woman slumped against the tall, strong kid, sobbing and laughing, and the 
weight of her slack body pulled him off balance so that his fingers slid 
softly out of her slackened cunt. He listened to her struggling to get her 
breath, and, as she lay back against the seat, he dropped to his knees on 
the car floor. 

As soon as Connie had some idea of what the boy wanted, another wave of 
sexuality flamed in her cunt, and she lifted the leg closest to the seat 
clear up, hooking her heel over the back. Her other thigh swung wide, almost 
at right angles to her heaving belly, and her crotch was as open as it could 
get. 

"Jesus, Miz Haire, that's so beautiful," the kid moaned. "All pink and 
slippery! Wow! Ooooh! Hang your leg over my shoulder. Like that! Yeah! Oh, 
God, it smells so lovely!" He looked up at Connie and his face was flushed 
with his heat, his face pouring sweat, and she realized that she was 
sweating, too. She felt the heat of his breath on her sensitized, trembling 
inner cunt lips, and it brought a burst of desire in her that made her fuck 
her body toward his face. 

As his thick-lipped mouth went down on that writhing, juicing spread of 
wriggling cunt flesh, the nerves, still tender from her giant orgasm on his 
fingers, exploded into the blaze of another cum. 

Her throat seemed raw from her previous screaming, but she ripped out hoarse 
tributes to the gods of lust: "SUCK IT, BABY! OH, IT'S SO 
BEEE-YOOOTI-FUUULLLLLL! OH, GOD! AAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH! OH, SUCK ME RIGHT 
OUT! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The feeling of being sucked inside out turned her 
bones to jelly, and she wrapped her smooth, warm leg around the boy's neck 
to keep from sliding away from him. She was one vast, amorphous bundle of 
throbbing flesh and screaming nerves, one big cunt that was responding with 
all its love and heat and slick oozings. 

When she at last subsided from this tongue-fucking, she was in the corner of 
the car, her dress now above her breasts. She was dizzy with the gut-shaking 
bursts of love, and grateful for this big, rather simple boy who had given 
her such pleasure. 

She saw that her fingers were cramped, and realized she had been clutching 
his long hair, holding him to her pussy. Trying to drown him in it, she 
suspected, and was able to grin. 

He raised up, and her happiness sent a shock of pleasure through him. "I 
never knew anyone like you, Miz Haire," he said humbly. "I hope what I did 
was, uh, okay by you." 

She leaned and clasped his big head against her breasts, tears in her eyes. 
"I wanted it so bad I just fell apart," she whispered. "Oooooohhh, that sure 
is a lot of smell coming up from my dirty old cunt! How'd you stand it?" His 
beardless cheeks were smashing into her swollen titties, and she loved it, 
but she had caught a flash of his cock, so big and hard, and knew he must be 
in fuck pain. 

"Harry," she whispered, "now it's your turn. Your turn to shoot your big, 
sweet load." She drew back and looked at him, her eyes dancing. She had 
never expected this, that she could so quickly feel a genuine affection for 
this young stud. "You can have it any way you want it. You can have me any 
way you want me." She felt a quake of deep pleasure. Somehow, using the 
personal pronoun made it seem sweeter. She had spent so many nights, so many 
days in ambivalence toward Dick. And toward Janice. To be like this, with a 
kid she barely knew, and to love without the bittersweet mixture of hate, 
that was divine. "Fucking or sucking," she said, to clarify things. 

"Or both," she said hoarsely, thinking of how that cock would feel in her 
churning pussy, and, at the same time, how sweet and wholesome his cock 
cream would taste, pouring across her tongue, into her throat. "Give it to 
me, sweet! Let me hold him, kiss him!" 

Somewhat shyly, somewhat awkwardly, the tall kid got up on the cushion 
beside her. "Easy with it, Miz Haire," he choked. "I'm about to lose it!" 

She put her warm fist around it, holding it firmly with her thumb pressing 
on the cord, just on the underside of the head, or on the top of the hard 
core. "You won't spill it, Harry," she said firmly. "This is absolutely 
guaranteed to get you back in control." She laughed lightly, happily. She 
felt almost insanely jubilant. She had started out in a bad mood, or at 
least a strangely love/hate feeling toward Dick and Janice. Fucking around 
with Harry would be "getting even." No joy, no violent happiness or 
surprise. Just the barren triumph of "getting even." 

But, holding this darling big cock, smiling with pure affection at the big, 
tough kid who ran over high school defensive backs all up and down the 
coast, she knew she was better than even. She had grabbed at something as 
evanescent as a lightning bug, and had gotten a fistful of warm gold. 

"Hey, that's all right, Miz Haire!" the boy exclaimed. "And it feels 
beautiful! Oh, man, it's so wonderful to get it on with a lady that knows 
where it's all at!" He looked anxious. "You sure it's all right for me to, 
uh, fuck you?" Suddenly, without meaning to, he bucked up against her hand. 
He licked his lips. His homely face was, most of it, anyway, shining with 
her cunt juice. 

"Wow" he said thickly. "Your pussy tastes like heaven! Phooey on young 
chickies! OOOOOOHHHHHH! Let's get it to going!" 

He tried to get his feet and knees up on the cushion between Connie's 
opulent thighs, and cursed as his feet tangled in his shorts and slacks. 
Looking sheepish, he reached to pull them off, and got his nose right 
between her thighs. "So loveleeeee!" he moaned, and pushed his face into her 
cunt. "Still drippy, Miz Haire!" He rooted into her, licking into the 
superheated and blood-reddened labia, probing with his slick, muscular 
tongue, and Connie held his face against her, her eyes closed to enjoy the 
cunt fire all the more. 

When he got up she said: "I think you'll like my cunt the way it is, Harry. 
I'm usually very tight, but right now I'll be all relaxed and sloppy, so 
that you can just slide it in and let it soak for as long as you want. Does 
that sound good to you? I promise, it'll be slick and hot around your lovely 
peter. You can fuck in and out gently, and not be afraid you'll cum too 
soon. OHHHHHH! GET IT IN ME, BABY! QUICK! HOLD ME DOWN! FUCK ME! I'M 
CCCUUUMMMIIINNNGGGG! PLEASE! OHHHHHH WOWEEEEEE! THERE, BABY! OH, GLORIOUS 
FUCK! OH DO YOUR STUFF, BABY!" 

He had gotten the broad head just past her cuntal portal when she began to 
fling herself at him the vast convulsive effort of a big orgasm. He never 
knew what it was like to feel the "relaxed" cunt she talked about. 

It felt so marvelous to his hard cock, aching with the need to unload, that 
he tried to drive into her as she came up. But her needs, the dark rhythms 
inside that strong, lovely body, were tuned to a different beat. He felt the 
slick, warm flesh go taut, and he was lost, both he and his cock dominated 
by the expert, practiced milking of a super cunt. He felt the warmth of her 
thighs against his hard flanks, felt the grind of her pubic mound against 
his own, and simply dropped his mouth on hers, tonguing her furiously as her 
body took care of the fucking for both of them. He was grateful for this 
experience, and for the guts he had had when he had rubbed her thigh in the 
Sugar Bowl. He had felt heat run between them, and now it was paying off. 
Better than he could have ever believed. 

He was still cumming when Connie suddenly checked her gorgeous body in 
mid-air, her ass down on the cushion, his cock buried deep down, all his 
force pressing against her uterus and the closed end of her fuck sheath. He 
felt her gather all her muscles into tightness, and took his mouth from hers 
just as she began to shout hoarsely: "IT'S TOO GOOOOODDDDDD! OH DARLING! OH 
DICK! FUCK ME HARD, BABY, AS HARD AS YOU CAN! I'M 
CCCUUUMMMMMMIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG! OH, DICK, PLEASE! PLEASE, BABY! FUCK ME!" 
And then another wordless scream that ripped from her strained throat as the 
violence of her orgasm shot her hammering against the big boy: 
"AAARRRGGGHHHIAAARRRGGGHHH! AAAHHHGGGHHH!" 

He had never known anything remotely approaching the ardor and abandon of 
Connie's response. Young girls are sweet, their tender little cunts usually 
tight and always ready, but none of them, until they enjoy the abandon of 
mature sex, dare let themselves go. After all, kids have to fuck on the sly. 
Often as not within earshot of mom or dad. Or some other authoritarian 
surrogate. And Harry, inclined to take fucking more seriously as he grew 
older, was finding that making a woman flip was a heady addition to the 
unsubtle reality of sticking his cock into a willing pussy. It was 
wonderful. 

He let himself go as limp as Connie, his big body falling on her belly, her 
spread thighs, his chest mashing her swollen titties. 

They lay in happy silence, breath coming hard, in gasping sobs, and he got 
one big hand under Connie's buttock, raising her so he could dig into the 
softness and slickness of her ass, where her flow of vaginal nectar was 
mingling with his own swelling seed. 

She was stroking his hair back from his sweated forehead, and thinking of 
how beautiful this was, how marvelous to have it turn out this way. Getting 
even with Dick and Janice was gone from her mind. She had discovered a new 
dimension to fucking. Big boys. Maybe even younger kids than Harry I Why 
not? There were so many of them! And they needed sex then, maybe more than 
at any other time of their lives. The raunchy thought tickled her so that 
she laughed. 

Harry moved, giving her sensitive breasts a delightful thrust of pain as his 
weight smashed them flat on her rib-cage. He lifted his head and grinned. 
"What's funny?" he asked. "Are you laughing at me?" 

She kissed him, and he rolled away and sat up. His big prick was still hard 
enough to stand up between his thighs, and it was shining with a thick layer 
of their combined cum juices. With a happy moan, Connie moved, turned, got 
on her knees on the back seat, and took the boy's tool in her hand. 
Automatically, his long arm went around her rump, into the deep, cum-slicked 
crevice between her buttocks, a big finger going gently into her fuck tube. 

"Not laughing at you at all," the woman said in a hoarse whisper. "Nothing 
to laugh at. OOOOOOHHHHHH! This lovely peter! He's so big and purple-faced!" 

She went down on the sticky cock, thrilled with the richness, the rankness 
of their combined sweat, the thick jism, her own deliciously flavored pussy 
juice. 

He held her head between his hands, moving it around, grinning to himself, 
since she could not see his face. He had a sudden feeling that she was his, 
not for always, but for a while. It gave him a new idea of what it might 
mean. He already knew that his own ability to rebuild, to fire more jism, 
was limited. It didn't seem fair. Because, he knew, a woman like Connie 
could fuck him under the table any time she wanted to. And he thought, with 
a new pang of lust, about Connie's young daughter. He held her head tightly, 
raising it and lowering it on his dick. Wow! What a gas! Having a woman as 
classy as this, happy to eat his cum! Most young kids, you had to argue with 
'em, slap 'em around, sometimes, just to get 'em to give you a blow job. And 
even then, they didn't know how. Maybe, though, if a guy took time to train 
'em-WOW! Even Connie, so great at sucking, even Connie had to learn how. He 
was blasted again with a new dart of intuition. It moved him to speak. 

"You know," he said boldly, "I told you the truth about Jan. I never had a 
date with her. As far as I knew, she's cherry. But if she's your daughter, 
and if there's anything in this whatchacallem stuff, you know, when you 
inherit something from a parent?" He was mute for a second, and Connie, 
licking her lips after letting his warm cock slip out of her mouth, 
furnished the word. 

"Yeah. Heredity. If Jan's like you, how come she's not getting it from 
somebody. Because, as far as all the guys know-all the chicks, too, who'll 
talk about it-she's still cherry. Seems crazy, if she's your daughter." He 
laughed nervously. "Just sort of joking." 

Connie was tempted to reply: "Somebody's getting it," but she wanted to keep 
away from the thought, to make this moment last. 

"After all, she's only twelve," the woman said. "Even for this day and age, 
even for Southern California, that's pretty young. Or is it?" 

Thinking of Sammy Priest's kid sister, Harry almost choked on laughter. He 
had a pretty good idea that Janice wasn't against fucking. She had gotten 
very flippy when they pulled her panties off and gave her a few feels. 
Might've even cum, a little. But he couldn't tell that to the kid's mother. 
Might louse up his big idea. 

"Yeah, I guess so, Miz Haire. But, gee, you've got to admit that there's 
something wrong with the heredity thing." He wanted to keep this good thing 
going, so he got back on the subject in the simplest possible way. Connie 
had her face on his thigh, still holding his diminishing cock, eyeing it 
from close up. So he pulled her face toward it, groaning: "MMMMMMMMM! That 
was so great, the way you blew me awhile ago! Cleaned up my dick, I mean." 
He suddenly remembered that, in the heat of their cumming, she had called 
him "Dick." Or had he imagined it? Knowing her husband, since almost 
everyone knew almost everyone else in the cluster of small towns along this 
part of the coast, it meant she was in another world when she came. 

Anyhow, she didn't take his bait. Instead, she kissed the softening prick, 
sat up, and smiled at the big kid. 

"This was crazy," she said, beginning to work her dress down over her big, 
firmly soft breasts. Ooooh! It felt good! When she got the mess of fabric 
down to the widening of her hips-thank God for permanent press, she thought 
as she raised her gorgeous ass up off the seat and got the dress smoothed 
out. 

"I hate to see you put all those beautiful things away," the boy said, 
seeing it only as a way to flatter. "Guys talk a lot about 'eating pussy,' 
meaning stuff that's so good it's a shame to put a nasty old cock into it." 
He laughed. "This is the first time I ever had any that good. Wow! I feel 
like I could get it up again in five minutes." 

He did more than flatter Connie. He started a new flame going from the 
embers still glowing inside her. "Me, too," she said. "I could just about 
fuck you-or a dozen like you-into a coma! But I'm getting nervous about 
this. Screwing in public, sort of. Would you like to go to a motel? I'd pay, 
of course," she said pleadingly. "We could sort of let ourselves go, if we 
were in a place like that. Oh, Harry!" and she trembled with a hard, 
beautiful pain twisting around her womb, "That would be so marvelous! Would 
you? If I'd pay?" 

He felt a hard surge of triumph. This was what every guy dreamed of-to have 
some girl begging for it. But this wasn't just "some girl." This was the big 
shot Miz Haire, a leader in the area, the wife of Dick Haire. A legend. And 
more than that, the hottest fuck that Harry had ever known, the most 
beautiful woman he had ever spoken to. 

He finished getting his slacks up and closed. He held Connie for a hard 
moment, tonguing her deeply, his hand under her dress. 

"I know a better place," he said. "Let's go." 

She looked out of the car. Since they had arrived and done their thing, 
other cars had parked, one of them not more than fifty feet away. "I can't 
get out now," she said. "I can't let anyone see me here." 

"Climb over into the driver's seat," Harry replied. "Go on. I'll boost you." 

When she had squirmed over into the front seat-with Harry getting a flash of 
her firm thighs, her pouting cunt-he said: "Drive back to town. I'll show 
you where to go." And then, as Connie obediently turned the car around, her 
pulses thudding in warm anticipation, Harry, still in the back seat, ran the 
window down. He knew who was in the nearest car. He should. It was the car 
he'd been in, going to the Sugar Bowl. Sammy Priest's. And good old Roy was 
with him. God damn! 

With his eyes on Miz Haire, to make sure she didn't see, he put his arms out 
the window and put his hand in the air. His thumb and forefinger made a 
circle, the other three fingers extended. The "okay" sign. 

"When you get to Acacia, turn left," he said pleasantly. 

 Chapter Six 

Dick's trip to Citrus City was over almost before it began. The wholesale 
client had had an order ready. A carload. And the factory representative, as 
he usually did, gave Dick a warm handshake, the assurance that the factory 
looked on him as one of its more valuable people, and a rain check on the 
lunch which Dick usually had with him. He had another call to make, up in 
Los Angeles County. If he got it cleaned up by noon, he could go out to see 
the Dodgers in one of their rare daytime games. So there was Dick, a little 
after eleven, with time on his hands. And cunt on his mind. 

Young cunt. About thirteen. 

He knew exactly where to find it. Janice's lunch period was from twelve to 
twelve-forty-five. And, on lovely days like this, she and her pals liked to 
get lunch over and sit under the ancient pine trees along Pacific Avenue, 
the south side of the campus, to talk, to take a quick look at a book for 
the next class, to look the guys over, to tell secrets. So, really, all Dick 
had to do was to pull up and park. And wait and watch. 

Mary McCarty saw him first. She turned to Janice. "Hey, kid," the hot little 
girl said out the corner of her mouth, "there's your old man. Geez, he's 
good looking! Does he ever fool around?" She laughed, holding on to Jan's 
arm. "Because, if he does, tell him I'm available. Whoo-ee! I get tired of 
schoolboy heroes!" 

She was still laughing when Janice, her heart pounding, got in her dad's 
car. Her first thought had been that something bad had happened. Mom was 
sick. Or maybe worse. Mom had found out about them. 

His smile reassured her. So did his big hand, spread palm up on the seat, so 
that she could nestle her warm little butt against it. Just a sort of 
greeting, really. A joke. He loved to do it when he was picking her up and a 
bunch of kids were around the car. That way, as she squirmed in an apparent 
effort to get settled, he could actually work his finger under the strap of 
her panties, right into the sweetly dripping, warm little cunt, and 
finger-fuck her while she was exchanging small talk with the other kids. 

"That old Mary McCarty has the hots for you, daddy," she said to Dick, 
loving the hard penetration of his big finger. "If you ever want a little of 
that-well, she says she's available." 

Dick laughed. This open way of talking was nice. Right from the start, he'd 
been able to make Jannie understand how much it helped, how it made 
communication easier and sweeter. 

She looked up at him, love in her eyes. "My lunch period's up in about 
fifteen minutes," she said. "What do you want to do? We can go around back 
of the school, in the trees. We could make it there." 

She shivered. "Ooooooohhh, daddy! It makes me feel all hot and slick, just 
thinking of it. I want to suck you off! Couldn't we?" 

He wiggled his hidden finger in the drooly opening of her sweet young twat. 
"I've got something better in mind," Dick grinned. "Like maybe going to a 
motel. Where's your mom? D'you know?" 

The nubile child bounced up and down on his finger, a tremor of orgasm 
already beginning in her soft-lipped pussy. "Oh, daddy," she groaned. "Let's 
go! OHHHHHH! PLEASE! LET'S GO! BEFORE I CUM!" 

He reached across with his left hand and started the engine, moved the shift 
lever to "Drive", and bumped down off the low curb by the school grounds, 
steering with his left hand. His face was as intent as Jannie's as she 
turned her left thigh up on the seat, and he enjoyed her cries of fuck-joy 
as she clung to his arm and fucked up and down on his hand. 

"OHHHHHHHHH God! Ohhhhhh, daddy! That was beautiful. Oh, don't take it out. 
PLEASE!" 

But he withdrew his hand, his big middle finger wet with her cum juice, his 
palm filled with her overflow. 

He grinned at her as he licked his fingers, his hand. "Very nice," he said. 
"And just think, I'm going to get all of that I can eat. Because, in about 
ten minutes, we're going to be in our own private bedroom, naked as 
jaybirds' asses, and-wow! We'll have all afternoon! Where'd you say Connie 
was?" 

Jan clung to Dick's arm, her eyes shining. "I didn't say, daddy. Because I 
don't know. At home, I guess. She didn't say anything to me." She shivered 
ecstatically. "That's pretty heavy, going to a motel," she said. "Golly, 
suppose someone sees us?" 

But no one did. Dick had stopped and reserved the room, paying for it in 
advance, and he had the key. They simply went in through the dining room, 
like any father and daughter going to lunch, and on through to the hall, and 
on to their room. 

When they were safe inside, the slender young kid with the big breasts threw 
her arms around her stepfather's neck, her warm body against his, and they 
kissed for a long, hard moment. 

When their mouths parted, her face was slack with lust, and her sweet young 
mouth, not quite closed, dribbled clear saliva down her chin. She could feel 
his hard-on rising, and she hastily got to her knees, running his zipper 
down, feeling in his sweated shorts for the big piece of smooth, hot meat. 

They were in the bed in a matter of minutes, still not talking, but she 
rolled on top of Dick and tried to work her crotch over his cock, laughing 
breathlessly, kissing him on the face and neck. 

He held her for a moment, laughing, and then said: "Gee whiz, baby, what are 
you trying to prove? I'm just as hot for you as you are for me. But we don't 
have to hurry. We've got all afternoon. Roll over, sweet thing, and let me 
eat that cute little pussy for a couple of minutes. You know," he said and 
laughed, "I got a corner room, out here in the far end of the old place, so 
you can yell as loud as you want to. So we can have it all, do it all, and 
you can make all the noise you want to!" His hand went between her buttocks, 
slipping down into the deepest, slickest part, where her hot little cunt 
trembled with expectation and joy. "Look at you, baby! Full of juice, aren't 
you?" 

"Oh, daddy, that's so stirring!" the young girl cried. "Do you like that 
word, stirring? You know, I sit in class, just thinking of new ways to tell 
you how much I love you, what you do to me!" 

She pulled herself up high on the bed, squeezing one of her big, taut 
nipples into a cone of titty flesh, and thrust it at his mouth. "I love it 
so when you suck me, daddy," she whispered. "I love the things you teach me. 
About my body, about all women. About sex. Show me again where that real 
good place is in my pussy." 

He sucked half her tender young breast into his mouth, his powerful tongue 
beating at the nipple. She went rigid as the good, hard, hot feeling spread 
from her warm, soft titty, glowing all through her torso. From her position, 
she could see his big, thick cock with its head so gorged with blood that it 
was slick and shiny. It looks so big and fierce, she thought. It doesn't 
seem possible that it can go into my tiny little holes. 

She pulled her stretched and swollen nipple away from him and lay with her 
head down along his body. Her soft, warm little hand found his heavy cock, 
and she gently gripped it, opening up her own loins to Dick's gaze by 
pulling her left heel snugly against her well formed butt, giggling as he 
turned his head so that his cheek was on the inside of her right thigh. 

"Looks mighty rich and juicy in there," he teased. "Did all that happen just 
since I picked you up?" 

She jumped as she felt his fingers hold her cunt lips apart, and 
unconsciously fucked toward his face. She could feel his heartbeats 
throbbing in his cock, and she handled it gently. "I want this big old thing 
in me when you cum, daddy," she said in a high, strained voice. "OHHHHHH! 
WHAT'S THAT? OHHHHHH, DADDDDDDYYYYYY! OHHHHHHHHH! YOU'RE MAKING ME 
CUUUUUUMMMMMM! WOWEEEEEEEEEEEE! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!" And her feverish cries of 
lust shook them both as his strong lips closed on her throbbing, juicing 
pussy. 

He had to hold on to her ankle with his left hand to keep her from flinging 
herself away from him, so shaken she was by her orgasm. 

The dark fire of it bombed deep inside of her, taking her unexpectedly, its 
brilliance burning in the wet blackness in her vagina, like a thousand 
sparklers on Fourth of July. In her frenzy of lust, she got her flushed 
young face deep into his groin, kissing along the hairy, hard-muscled thigh, 
pulling at the dark hairs with her teeth. The rancid, rankly compelling 
smell from his crotch only added to her heat as her cunt flapped and 
throbbed in its throes of cumming. When he released her, she fell against 
him limply, drained for the moment, her heart leaping as she heard him 
laugh. 

He pushed her away in a moment, and dragged her limp, sweet body up so that 
her face was next to his. As always, she was intrigued by the sharp aromas 
from her cunt, and its tasty richness as she kissed him softly. "Hot day," 
she whispered. "I told you, I think about you in class. I got full of juice, 
and it, well, I guess it sort of gets riper!" She pretended to shudder with 
disgust, although she knew the zest that Dick had for her genitals, the 
strength of his interest in sex. For a moment, she felt very grown up, 
holding the big man's face as she kissed him, enjoying the heat that swept 
her as they sucked tongues. 

When she raised her face away from his, she laughed. "What are you going to 
teach me today?" she asked. "How many lessons is this? Nearly three months, 
right?" 

He cupped her warm, smooth ass in his hand, laughing. "Ever since that night 
you came home with your boobs hanging out," he said. "And sat your warm 
little rump right on my danger spots." 

"Oh, marvelous!" the young girl cried. Sweat had dampened her dark hair 
which fell in curled tendrils across her brow. "Now it's all my fault. Oh, 
you nasty old man! I've a good notion not to let you stick it into me, just 
for that!" 

His eyes were bright, too, and his laughter was deep. "Won't be much of a 
lesson," he said. "But I'll charge you, just the same." 

She kissed him again, then put her face against his, and sat back, slouched 
so that her weight was on her elbows and the lower part of her back. "Teach 
me," she said. "Play with my pussy. Please, daddy! Remember when we first 
did this? All naked, I mean?" 

He looked at the young perfection of her girlish but mature body. The young 
breasts pointing so proudly away from her chest. Her smoothly rounded belly, 
with its triangle of dark hair at its base. Still not enough hair to hide 
the sweet point where her slit began, still only a light sprinkling of long 
hairs down the rounded fullness of each big cunt lip. 

"I remember," he said. "Do I ever. That crazy day when your mother went 
shopping. God! I still shiver when I think how crazy we were." He placed one 
big, smooth hand on the girl's belly, his thumb pressing against the 
sensitive spot just above her clitoris, in the richest, thickest hair on her 
young mound. He grinned at her. "That was when I finally let you talk me 
into screwing you." He pressed hard where the wildly responsive little bud 
of passion would be hiding, under its protective overhang of thick, soft 
pussy flesh. 

When she leaped, he laughed, and pulled her toward him. "You said I owed it 
to you, you little devil! Would it surprise you to know I wanted to fuck 
you, long before that first night. The very first time I played with your 
pussy? And that my hanging back was, well, not completely honest?" 

The thirteen year old woman dropped her eyes and a warm flush swept pinkly 
over her lovely little body. She wanted this talk ended, wanted the pretense 
of "instruction" ended, so that they could, very simply, get started 
fucking. Get that enormous, impossible looking fuck-tool started into her 
tightness, so she could strain and push, and concentrate on opening her body 
up. So that she could cum a few times before Dick could even get halfway 
into her tight and juicy little cunt hole. But she was twisting with 
laughter, deep inside, at his words. 

She hunched toward him, her knees sagging open, her thighs wide apart, her 
cunt pinkly offered. "Yeah," she said. "Maybe I knew. I was scared to death 
you wouldn't, though. You're so goddamned honest, so decent!" She began to 
cry silently, big tears running down her smooth cheeks. But the heat in her 
twat remained unabated. "I was scared you would, too," she said. "I knew it 
was wrong, and I knew you knew it was wrong. But I couldn't help it. I had 
to know what it was like. Fucking, I mean," she added, looking down humbly. 

"Forget that shit!" the big man said roughly, his tongue so thick with heat 
that his words were blurred. "I told you the truth. I've wanted to get into 
your pretty pink pussy since you were old enough to have any shape!" He 
realized he had raised his voice, much too much. He put his hand on the 
warm, smooth skin of her thigh, just a couple of inches from her split. He 
grinned, and pinched her. "I must feel at least a little bit defensive," he 
said. "I sure as hell sound defensive. Come closer, doll. Come real close, 
and lie next to me and put your hand on my prick. There, baby, that's it. 
Don't want me to lose this big hard-on, do we? At my age, they don't come 
too easy." 

The girl began to laugh, a little raggedly at first, then with a real 
feeling of amusement. "Isn't that silly?" she asked. "That I should be 
thinking of mom? And I know that all you're trying to do is help me grow up, 
and teach me about myself. So I won't be scared." 

He held her to him, kissing her, wondering how much was truth in what he had 
said, and how much was lies. It's impossible for a man interested in sex, as 
deeply as Dick was, to keep from noticing the development in breast and 
thigh, in butt and belly, of a girl child. Even if she were truly my 
flesh-and-blood daughter, he told himself. And even if he had, right there 
at first, had only meant to give her comfort-well, when he had begun to 
examine her sweet little body-her cunt, let's face it-the desire to help 
suddenly became nothing but desire. 

She was frigging his cock in the way he had taught her. "This is right, 
isn't it, daddy?" she asked softly, her eyes closed, so that he could see 
her heartbeats throbbing in the tiny veins of her eyelids. She groaned as he 
put his big hand down between her legs, and fucked wildly at his fingers, as 
if her blind little pussy was determined to wrap itself around something of 
his. "Come on, big man," she whispered brokenly. "Come on, let's fuck!" 

He rolled her on her back and pulled her legs apart. I did this, he thought. 
I taught her to fuck, taught her to like it, taught her to talk like a 
waterfront hustler. But he had no time for regrets as he knelt there, his 
big cock in his hand, its broad head aimed at the tender, pink little slit 
with its shrinking hole down there at the bottom. "Lift your ass up for me, 
baby," he said huskily. "Daddy wants to stick it in you. Do you want to 
help, baby? AGGGGGGHHHHHH! Oh, baby, that's where it's at!" 

She didn't open her eyes, but her pert little face was beautiful in its soft 
smile as she rubbed his cock up and down in the juice that welled out of her 
warmly responsive depths. 

"Hot girl like you never should let a guy put vaseline or spit on his cock," 
he had told her. "Wipe it up and down in that sweet little cunt of yours. 
That's a female's natural lubricant, and a hot girl has plenty of it. Like 
you. Like your mom. And it makes a guy feel great, too." That had been a 
long time ago, for them. Before they'd never actually gone the whole route, 
which was almost exactly three weeks ago. It was three weeks ago. He knew 
it, and he remembered how he knew it. 

But now, as his little daughter raised her sweetly fashioned young rump up 
off the clean sheets, pushing against his cock so that she was making it go 
in, she was taking part of the responsibility, he didn't care. Then was 
then, and now was now. No use in letting some dumb guilt spoil it for her. 
"Goddd! Oh, baby, that feels mighty good! How wonderful your sweet little 
old pussy is!" 

She laughed and opened her eyes to look deeply into his. She was happy. He 
knew it. And her body was trembling, she liked it so. 

"Remember the first time, daddy?" she asked in a whisper. "It just seemed 
like it never would go in, didn't it?" 

He lunged at her beautifully formed body, and cried out in a sort of 
ecstatic pain: "Jesus, baby, you're so tight it hurts!" 

Her face was white, at least around her lips, and around her nostrils. 
"Wonderful pain!" she gasped, her body trembling on his cock as if it were 
supported on that big, hard tool. 

She gave a little shake and a twist to her body, let herself go back down to 
the bed, and then, as his weight followed, she threw herself back up at him 
with all the power of her back and legs. 

"OOOOOOFFFFFF!" she cried. "THAT got results! Wow, daddy! It's almost all 
in, isn't it? Let me look in the mirror. Oh, wow!" and her voice was soft. 
"Look! I think I feel it pressing into my guts! Look in the mirror!" 

He forced himself up on his elbows, keeping his belly close on hers, and 
turned his head. Jannie had pulled her legs back, all the way back, so that 
her butt, what he could see of it in the big mirror, looked as mature, 
almost as big, as Connie's. And his big balls, in their wrinkled, hairy sac, 
were drawn up tight against his pole, from his heat, his need to unload 
their slick freight. 

"It's all the way in," he gasped. "Baby, I must be splitting your little 
vagina. I know I'm clear at the end of it." 

She suddenly looked away from him, her face slack and loose, and her body, 
as if it had been electrified, began to pump up and down on his cock. Her 
voice began as a low sound in her throat, and then her mouth opened into a 
long, frightening "O", in which he could see her clean, pink tongue coiled 
like a snake. 

"OWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she howled. "OWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" And then, in a 
wild rhythm to match her body's abandoned but regular jerks and twists: 
"OHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! OH GOD! OH GOD! DADDY, DADDY, 
DADDY, DADDY!" And on these two syllables, her body made a double bump up at 
him, and some fantastic muscle, in an action that could never be learned or 
taught, nipped at his cock in a bop-bop nibble. "Dad-dee! Dad-dee! OHHHHHH! 
OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH!" And then at last, a long drawn out cry ripped 
from her strained throat: "AAAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" 

It was so fantastic that he was again braced on his arms, letting her fuck 
him. And she had certainly done just that. He felt the dying echo of her 
orgasm as a hard flutter of muscle around the head of his cock. There was a 
ripe smell of cunt fragrance around them both, a slippery film of sweat and 
pussy juice all around where his big organ was throbbing inside little 
Jannie's sweet pussy. 

The girl continued to moan softly, and he knew there was still a warm, 
almost painful sensitivity in every part of her fuck system. He was hot as 
he could get, every muscle taut as if he were a fine hunting dog on point. 
He lowered himself as his arms began to tremble from his weight, and he 
kissed his daughter gently on her closed eyelids, making her smile faintly. 
She was out of it for a few more minutes, he knew, far away in her bright 
world of happily completed sex, her body and mind temporarily disconnected, 
and only her sensory centers alive to what had happened, was still happening 
in sweetly itching little aftershocks, and what would soon happen. 

When Dick, holding hard to the idea of fucking for a while before shooting 
his big load, began to move his cock gently in and out of the slippery-tight 
little hole, so recently opened to a man's cock, Janice began to awaken. Her 
face and breast were now flushed with the blushing aftermath of a big 
orgasm. She kept her eyes closed, but her body slowly began to weave and bob 
in a rhythm to match the man's slow, short strokes. 

Her face became intent again, and she gripped her dad's braced arms to give 
herself leverage. Her heels moved back so she could make a bridge of her 
body, and her movements were now surer, harder, as the big organ went in and 
out of her. And Dick, observing this all with love and concern, with a 
teacher's eye, was able to stave off his own blast of sperm. 

His nerve-taut cock was swollen with blood, and the young cunt's tightening, 
the young girl's heat, the deliciously warm feel of her body, all were at 
work on Dick's senses. He did not realize it, but his eyes were now closed, 
too, and he was pumping his big cock so deep into the little-girl twat that 
he was hitting the end of her vagina, and banging against her cervix. 

It was pounding pain deep into the girl's body, but it was a glorious sort 
of pain, the kind that makes certain women glad to be women, glad to be 
fucked. She felt as if her hard little womb-mouth was being struck with a 
fist, and each hard jab was a darkly convulsive pang in her guts. But the 
friction on her cum-nerves, the pressure on her clitoris from his hard slams 
against her cunt, all these made it not only bearable, but beautiful. 

Shortly, she began to moan: "Mmmmmmm! Ohhhhhh! Oh, daddy! Fuck me, daddy! 
Oh, it's so good! I love you so, daddy! You're fucking me so gooood!" 

The lascivious babble in his ear, his daughter's hot breath coming out in 
the same tempo as his strokes and her bobbing response, were so much a part 
of the final act that they blew the flames in the man's fucking apparatus to 
high heat. 

He had given up any idea of controlling his orgasm. Now, he was only trying 
to get in as many of these delicious penetrations of the young girl's body 
as he could before he reached the final high point of releasing his seed 
inside her, in long, hard jets. 

In the girl's nerved up body, with the sharp sensitivity in her big breasts 
rolling in lightning sheets to touch the surging waves of lust in her 
genitals, there was once again the simple knowledge that nothing is so 
beautiful as fucking, as cumming, as feeling the hot slickness of a man's 
jism being shot into your dark vagina. 

He dropped his mouth to Janice's as he felt the first explosion of his seed 
burst up his tubes from his heat swollen balls. His tongue went into hers 
and they kissed with animal ferocity for the second before his big cock 
throbbed with the first jet of sperm. 

When Jan's body, her straining cunt, felt the burning tide of jism fill her 
young fuck sheath, she wrenched her mouth away from Dick's. Her voice was 
hoarser now, from its previous strain, but her body shook with the effort to 
scream out her wild joy. 

"AAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" Each long peal of hoarse and 
rasping animal delight seemed to throw her harder against the man who was 
cumming so hard, swelling her small vagina with the added bulk of a big load 
of semen. 

"DADDDDDEEEE! DADDDEEEE!" she wailed, humping and hunching with every muscle 
in her healthy young body. "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! FUCK HARD! FUCK HARD! 
OHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH! DEEEEEPPPPERRRR! DADDDEEEE! GO DEEEEPPEEERRRR!" And at 
last, as she shuddered and let her small body fall limply on the bed, she 
breathed out: "Ohhh, daddy, it's so good when we fuck! Soooooo goooooddd! So 
damned good, daddy! You fuck me so gooooddd!" 

Her young cunt, so tight for all those long minutes before, seemed loose and 
lax, warmly slopped with his jism and her cunt flow. It felt so delightful 
to the big man that he continued to move his body and his big cock, which 
slipped in and out so sweetly on its thick film of cum juices. There was 
still a small, heartening flutter of inner muscle to kiss his cock, and he 
thought, in a sudden rage of mental lust, that he must, before too long, 
break that final maidenhead, that he must know the gut-deep thrill of 
fucking her in her girlish asshole. 

The raunchy thought made his big organ throb, and this unexpected stretching 
of her deeply sensitized pussy caused the young girl to fling herself 
loosely from side to side. At the same time, she let out a weak moan: "NO! 
NO MORE, DADDY! PLEASE! NO MORE FUCKING!" But her body continued to respond, 
and Dick, who loved and appreciated every nuance of sex, grinned fiercely 
against the women-child's neck as her pleading and pitiful supplication paid 
tribute to his cocksmanship. 

He continued to support much of his weight on his elbows and knees, and the 
two of them were so drenched in sweat that every breath the girl took made 
her chest and belly move against that of the man she had called "father" 
almost all her life. 

When she stirred, putting her slender, smooth arms up around his neck, 
rubbing her face on his, he rolled off, laughing, his cock still large and 
fat. 

It was thickly coated with their orgasmic discharges, and Dick, feeling 
great, feeling sexually hyped up and full of carnal zest, rolled higher and 
rubbed the sticky organ against little Jannie's breasts, so swollen from her 
enormous orgasm that they looked as big as Connie's. 

She laughed at him, grabbed his warm slick organ, and hastily licked most of 
the thick juice off. And, because the raunchy idea appealed to her, she 
pushed her breasts up to her mouth and sucked the coagulating cum juice from 
them, rolling her eyes up at her father in elaborate pantomime of ecstasy at 
the taste. 

They lay comfortably together, occasionally reaching out to touch some 
attractively sensual area. 

"You've come a long way, baby," Dick laughed. "And in such a short time, 
too." 

"I don't know long a way," the girl said, smiling, "but I know I've cum as 
often as I could. But it can't be too soon nor too often to suit me! 
Remember the first time? Wow! You were as bad as I was! When you knocked me 
away from your peter, when you started to blow your wad, and realized that I 
was sucking you off!" She hugged her big, taut breasts, laughing at the 
memory. 

"I shook me up, all right," Dick admitted. "I can't figure it out. All 
along, I was reassuring you that sex was all right, as long as nobody got 
hurt. I almost wished, in a way, that one of those guys at the party had 
gotten it into you." He shook his head. 

"That's freakish, daddy," the girl said tenderly, putting her face next to 
Dick's, her hand on his other cheek. She wriggled her warm and naked body 
alongside his, feeling a glow of new heat come up in the depths of her body. 
"You've said, all along, that you meant to fuck me. That you wanted me, 
wanted my pussy. OOOOOOHHH!" And she shivered with lust, remembering bright 
pictures of wantonness with her daddy. "That gives me a little sort of 
cum-kink right up my twat! Give me your finger!" 

She held his hand and wrist in both hands, moving his finger into her 
vaginal entry, pushing it deep into the hot, slick folds inside her. "Wow!" 
she moaned. "Does that ever feel good! We don't get a chance to be this way, 
naked and all, not often. OOOOOHHHH! I could do it all night!" She craned 
her neck to look at his penis. It was just as it had been a few minutes 
before, and she let his hand slip away from her softly haired delta with a 
sigh. 

"You could, but I couldn't," Dick said equably. "That's what I've been 
trying to tell you. You ought to widen your interests. We can't go on this 
way. I love you, and I'll always love your sweet little pussy. But I get 
some funny looks from your mother, here lately. And you know I'd never hurt 
her." 

"Not if you could help it," the child answered, grinning. "I know, daddy. 
And I know you're right. But you taught me so much, and taught me so well, 
that I hate to go on to another teacher." 

Now it was Dick who laughed. "You little faker," he said fondly. "You could 
teach most grown women a thing or two. And as far as your own group is 
concerned, I'll bet you're better than any of the girls, that you know more 
and screw better. And that there isn't a one of those guys who ever had it 
any better." He was getting quite worked up, his voice rising softly, and 
Jannie laughed. 

"Okay, okay, daddy! I get the message. And I'll start giving it away as soon 
as I get a chance." She was jacking his loose cock-skin up and down and 
grinning. "But I'm still going to get a little of this, once in a while. 
Won't I? Please?" 

"You'd better believe it, cookie," Dick laughed, pulling her up across his 
loins, so he could stroke his hand between her buttocks, where her cunt 
juice was staying warm and slick. "And you're going to save this for me, 
remember?" He jammed his big finger hard against her puckered little 
asshole, penetrating perhaps an inch, making the young girl leap in reaction 
as he reamed into the erotically sensitive membranes just inside her. 

She had her hand between his thighs, fondling his balls, and she yearned for 
his stretching cock to be plunged deep into her body as a hungry girl yearns 
for feed. 

"Take it now, daddy!" she gasped her mouth dribbling a clear string of 
saliva from her lower lip. "Take it now. NOW! NOW!" 

She fought his grasp, jerking until she could get her full lips around the 
heart shaped head of his cock. "MMMMMM!" she moaned around it. "MMMMMM!" And 
then, hanging onto it with her hand, opening her mouth as wide as she could: 
"FINGER-FUCK ME, DADDY! DEEP! OHHHHHH! GOOOOODDD! GOOOOODDD! I'M C 
CCUUUUMMMIIINNNGGG AGAIN! OHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHH!" 

 Chapter Seven 

Connie drove north on Acacia Street. She still had that same wild glow of 
sexual fulfillment in her loins. Paradoxically, it was a glow of need and 
desire as well as fulfillment. Connie Haire was not an easy woman to 
satisfy. She had loved this brutally lovely experience of fucking just for 
the hell of it. And as a gesture of defiance to the two people she loved 
best in all the world. It all added together to keep her blood running hot, 
her cunt swollen and drippy, her nerve-ends aching in anticipation. 

She knew that the big kid was thinking about it, too. From the corner of her 
eye, she could see the big, long shape of his cock in his slacks, and she 
reached out to stroke it. 

"You're a great person, Miz Haire," the boy said in a deep tone. "I can't 
believe this is happening to me. Too much!" 

He glanced back as they turned at a jog on Sky Street. Sure enough, the car 
was following. He grinned. "I'll bet you really meant it when you said you 
could out fuck three or four guys like me, didn't you?" he asked, grinning. 

Connie laughed. "Maybe I was just bragging," she said easily. "You're pretty 
good, you know. Am I going right? Is this the way?" 

A surge of anticipation made the tall boy shiver, made him laugh louder. 
"You'll see," he said. "In the next block. On the right hand side. See that 
pink garage? Pull in there, park in the drive." He was almost bursting with 
his secret, with his pleasure in what was to come. 

He took Connie's arm, tugging her around to the side of the place. This was 
the remnants of what had been the best residential section of The Bluffs, 
before the new highway had gobbled up so much of the little town, turning 
the old homes into antique shops and restaurants. The garage was big, a 
three-car job that had once been part of an estate now long since gone 
commercial. But when Harry unlocked a door and turned on lights, Connie 
gasped. It was weird but beautiful. 

"What in the world is it?" she asked, "and who does it belong to? All this 
equipment? It's like a million-dollar gymnasium!" 

Harry crossed over and threw open two windows, quite high up on the north 
wall. He touched a switch and started an air conditioner to humming. There 
was a strange looking couch, or Connie supposed it was a couch. It was 
higher than a couch, more like a big, padded, leather-upholstered table. 
Above it, in rows, were photographs of girls-or woman, what's the 
difference, in their poses?-leaning on the table. Leaning over the table. 
Not a face showed. But every one of these faceless females was bare-ass 
naked, and the close-ups of their asses, with their oddly similar, oddly 
differing pussies showing plainly, was a weird sight. 

"What IS this?" she asked again, and realized her voice was getting high and 
strained. She turned and almost stumbled on something she had not noticed 
before. Big, padded mats, such as she had seen at college and high school 
wrestling matches. Seven or eight of them. In some cases, piled three deep. 
They were like a bed, too. She felt the breath catch in her throat, and 
thought: I'm being silly. What is there in this simple place to frighten me? 

But she started back to the door, until Harry laughed and said: "It's just 
what you called it-a million-dollar gymnasium. Only it's not. Not a 
million-dollar one. D'you know Frank Botsford? The real estate guy? He's a 
big football fan, you know the kind I mean? A real freak." He had his big 
hand under her arm and was moving it up and down on her bare skin, as if he 
were gentling a nervous colt. And Connie liked it, liked the feeling it gave 
her in the smooth warmth near her armpit, so near her big breast. 

"Botsford?" she mused aloud. "Botsford? He's the one who bought most of this 
property before the highway went in. Likes football players, does he?" She 
laughed, a bit breathlessly, but she was feeling ever so much better. She 
put her arm around the tall boy's strong body. "If he was thinking right, 
he'd go for those smooth little chickies who lead the cheers," she said, and 
giggled. She was feeling warm and ready, something warm and slick was 
gathering in the thick, swollen cuntlips under her dress. "But, to each his 
own." 

"Now you're talking," Harry said. He led her toward a corner where four mats 
were stacked, and they sat down on it. IN it, was more like it. The mats 
were soft, with no coil springs for support, and the two people sank into 
the resilient softness. "Wow!" Connie exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "My 
old friend, Hugh Wright, would say this would give you two ups to one down. 
Does Mister Botsford let you use this whenever you want to?" She felt gluey, 
warm, sticky, pressing her fat, sensitive pussy between her heavy thighs. 

"He's awful nice to us, Miz Haire," the boy said earnestly. "He's a red-hot 
Stanford alum, takes one or two of us guys up the coast when the Indians 
have a big game-you know, that kind of thing. Helps the coaches work up a 
little interest. And several of us, fellows he and some others think can 
make it-well-he fixed this up just for us. Like it?" 

Connie was almost panting, she was so eager to try whatever it was that 
Harry had in mind. She pulled him back on the pads, laughing, and her hand 
went to the front of his slacks. "This is better than a motel," she said. 
She thought of The Pines, the fine old place on the north edge of Corona 
Beach, the next town up the coast. This was better. At The Pines, unless she 
went in through the dining room, and had Harry sneak around, someone might 
see her. She leaned on him, kissing him, her heat rising as she got a hand 
on his big, warm cock. 

"Come on," she laughed, sitting up. "Let me get those clothes off of you! 
Oh, Harry, this is a lovely surprise!" Her glance went to the opposite wall. 
"I see from your art gallery that it's been a lovely surprise to quite a 
number of the chickies," she said drily. "Who's the photographer?" 

"Oh, we all know how to use the cameras," Harry answered. "Hey, that doesn't 
turn you off, does it? Nobody gets dragged in here, kicking and screaming. 
They know what's what and where it's at, and they want to get it on. No 
rape, you know," and he laughed. "If you were a young guy, and had a place 
like this, and dug to fuck, what would you do? Really, on the square?" 

He suddenly seemed very young, even if he was standing there by her, so 
tall, and so exquisitely built, in his stark nudity. 

Connie, sitting on the bedlike stack of pads, hugged his strong legs, her 
face against his aromatic crotch. She felt his big cock stir, and turned so 
that she could get her smooth, wet lips around the tip of it. It was rankly 
delightful, still holding a residue of her inner fluids, congealed lumps of 
his jism. She felt him tremble, and sucked as much of the heavy organ into 
her mouth as she could get. 

"If it didn't have something to do with fucking," she gasped, letting the 
boy's prick slip out of her mouth, "I wouldn't like it!" 

He fell down beside her, hugging her strong, beautifully formed body to him. 
"Some kind of titties," he moaned, reaching between them to push one of the 
big, warm pillows of flesh up so he could put more squeeze on it. "I never 
knew a girl with big boobs that didn't have real feeling in them," he 
observed, licking the hard nipple, sucking it gently, tapping the grainy end 
of it with his tongue. It made his blood race when Connie impulsively held 
his face against her tender breast, smashing it with her own fervor. 

"I could cum," she whispered hoarsely. "If you sucked my tit long enough and 
hard enough, even if you never touched my puss, I could shoot my wad! That's 
how much feeling I have in 'em! Oh, Harry, let's get it on! Please, baby! 
Want to sixty-nine? Or do you want to fuck? Come ON! BABY! GIVE IT TO ME!" 

He got up on his knees and worked around to where he was just above her 
head. "I'll give you a titty-cum," he said. "I want to see if you're as good 
as you say. I'll suck your boobs up by the roots. I want to see if you can 
get off that way." 

He bent and kissed her, his big tongue going deep into her mouth, squirming, 
alive, probing in her cheeks, against her gums, on the ridged roof of her 
mouth. That's what makes it feel so good when she sucks my joint rubbing it 
on the roof of her mouth! he thought. God damn! I'll have to teach Mary and 
Tricia and Rena how to do that. Wow! 

He was heating up, too, and his cock was reaching full size. He could feel 
Connie squirming, so he let go her face and, with both big hands, he grabbed 
as much titty as he could in each, giving them a deliberately torturing 
squeeze. When he let her go and sat back up, his long, thick rod sticking 
out across the woman's face, she shuddered, hugged her breasts with her 
forearms, and said in a husky voice: "That almost did it, baby! But I meant 
for you to suck my boobs. OOOOOHH, it's so lovely here, Harry! Come on, 
honey, you want to suck my boobs or do you want me to suck your lovely 
cock?" He held her head between his knees, and his prick was just above her 
face. He knew that he could almost pop his nuts just by looking at a pussy, 
and he figured that Connie's mind was equally aphrodisiac. 

"Now, Miz Haire," he said softly, "I'm going to make you cum. Just sucking 
those big old, good looking, sweet smelling titties of yours." He laughed, 
seeing her body move in a fuck-motion, just hearing him talk about it. 

She thought she heard something metallic, like a door clicking, but she was 
on the high peak of a chasm full of delight, a dark, warm abyss of writhing, 
mind blowing orgasm. He felt her quiver, and as he leaned down to suck in 
the throbbing breast, he saw Sammy Priest and Roy Willard edging out of the 
bathroom. Both were naked, both had trembling hard-ons, and their grins had 
the animal ferocity of big cats. With the hard nipple in his mouth, holding 
the soft fullness of the warm breast in both hands, Harry winked as best he 
could. He didn't have to tell the boys what to do. They would know. Or, with 
that voluptuous body spread before them, with that lovely, thick lipped cunt 
wide open and drooling its juice through the woman's tightly closed cunt 
hole, they would think of something. 

There was a strange randiness at work in Connie's fine body. The sudden 
desire to fuck someone other than Dick, the natural-to her, at least-desire 
to give herself to Janice's "tough guy hero," and to take as well as 
give-they had kept her hot all that day. Until at last, wrapped in the 
young, powerful, amoral embrace of the overgrown kid, finding his body and 
his cock as hot-making as her already heated cunt could want, she had had 
that oddly beautiful return to her youth. Fucking and sucking in a car! 
Right up on the edge of the bluffs, looking at old memories in her dark mind 
as the high school football hero shot his big load into her. 

It had kept her hot. She had craved absolute body love, pure nudity, 
complete contact. Getting everything she had, every cunt hair, every wrinkle 
between cunt lip and thigh, every juice-swilling pore in her cuntal 
fountains involved. 

This wild kid was sucking on her breast with the crazy power of a 
breast-feeding infant. He was tearing it from her ribs, he was swallowing 
her whole! There were streaks of cum fire shooting madly down across her 
belly, stabbing into her clitoral nerves. I'm going to do it, she thought 
proudly. I'm going to cum just from getting my titties sucked! 
Unconsciously, she spread her strong thighs wider, feeling the exploding 
heat gather deep inside, feeling the fiery itch in her inner cuntlips mount 
to the firing point. 

She was tempted to sneak one hand down to tease her clit, feeling she 
couldn't wait for the coming pangs of orgasm, when she felt something warm, 
strong, and unbelievably beautiful come down on her wildly demanding cunt. 

It was too much. She could not know that, at this moment of one of the 
greatest sexual moments of her life, other people were involved. She did not 
feel a new mouth, new hands, clamp on her other breast, any more than she 
felt hot lips and strongly penetrating tongue sucking her pussy almost 
inside out. It was a moment of vast wildness, of superhuman pleasure. Her 
entire body was taking part in this carnal feast as she bucked and screamed, 
her wild outcries partially muffled against the broad chest of the boy above 
her. Her hot breath blew among the few hairs on his powerful body, and he 
grinned as he felt moist warmth and heard her screams. 

"OOOOOOOOHHH!" It was enough to burst her lungs, a long, high, vibrating 
scream. "OOOOOOOHHH!" Her strong arms went up over Harry's broad back, and 
she was fighting to get her mouth on his peter. Buried deep in the dark, 
shooting fire of her monster orgasm, she still struggled to give the big boy 
his pleasure. And her cries poured out in cadence with the violent pounding 
of sensation through all her fuck system. 

"HAAAARRRRRYYYY! OH GOD, HARRY BABY! OHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH!SOOOOOO 
GOOOOOOODDDD! SOOOOO GOOOODDDD, BABY!" And then that wild wolf howl again: 
"OWWWWWWOOOOOOOO! OWWWWWWOOOOOO! OHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHHHHH!" 

Her cries were becoming strained as the huge cum continued to wrack her body 
with uncontrollable spasms. "PPLLLLEEEASSSE! OH, HARRY! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!" 

Sammy Priest, who loved cunt and all its pleasures as much as any male 
could, at last put his powerful arms around the flying legs of the woman 
whose vagina he had sucked until it was completely closed. He was not 
sadistic, at least no more than any other healthy, fired up young man taking 
part in a semi-rape. But he knew this beautiful, voluptuous woman. He had 
eyed her gorgeous breasts, her graciously stacked body, her stirring beauty 
ever since he was big enough to store sperm in his young balls. Now, he 
wanted all of this softly flowing, redly swollen pussy he could get. Any way 
he could get it. 

He loved the sight, the feel, the smell, the taste of this marvelous cunt, 
this beautiful body. And he was wise enough to know that even the most 
spirited woman can be reduced to a screaming automaton if she is fucked-or 
sucked, for that matter-more than her nerves anybody can stand. He wanted 
her that way. And he knew her cuntal nerves were screaming with a wild joy 
that could soon become a deep, searing, mind bending pain. A cunt sucked 
dry, a cunt with its raw nerves brought smashing together by a harsh vacuum, 
that was his desire. And he was not the only one who wanted her to beg. 

Even with his cock so tense and hard that a touch would have brought his 
thick cream shooting over Connie Haire's face and breast, Harry Tenison was 
grinningly happy to hold his load for as long as necessary, applying the 
pressure on the woman's fuck nerves, for he was equally anxious to reduce 
her, at least temporarily, to gibbering sexual idiocy. Makes these ladies 
more fun, he thought, knowing his two buddies were thinking the same way. I 
never had anyone as classy as you, Miz Haire, dear, but I expect you roll 
and scream and finally faint from fuck shock, just like other ladies who 
come to play house with Old Roy and Old Sam and Old Harry. Woweeeee! 

He felt Connie's body suddenly go slack, and he raised his face from her 
love-tortured breast, watching with interest as the heavy muscles in her 
belly continued to roll from the giant orgasm. Over the brown bush of her 
cunt hair, he saw the flushed face of Roy Willard, his cheeks sunken in with 
the powerful suction he was using to raise, and continue to raise, this 
woman's heat until she could no longer resist, or, or do anything except 
weakly give way to the unceasing series of orgasms. Then, and only then, 
when she was only a lump of hot and whining and responsive meat, when she 
would cum if you so much as breathed into her cunt hair, they could really 
have their long afternoon of fun. And into the night. Why not? Who would 
guess where she was? And how would she dare to complain, to tell what had 
happened? Because, by the time she got that way, so much would happen to 
her, so much that was degrading and spirit breaking, that her own mind would 
recoil at the thoughts. She wouldn't dare tell all. And she couldn't. 

They knew. It had happened before. 

As her marvelous body flared in deeper and deeper sexual responses, and as 
her belly flung itself up, jabbing her soft, juice-slicked cunt toward young 
Willard's cleverly chewing mouth, Connie was saved by the smallest possible 
event. She was afflicted with a desperate need to void her bladder of urine. 
Such a natural thing! 

She had drunk a cup of coffee at home, before she started on the prowl. She 
had had a Coke in the Sugar Bowl. And now it was peepee time. The tension on 
her cum nerves only made it worse. And the deep, piercing need to piss 
cooled her in body and mind. 

In the momentary return to sanity, Connie's fine mind leaped the strictures 
of unbelievability-she knew there were three men working on her. She knew, 
also, where they were. And she acted. She let go a hard stream of 
body-warmed urine. 

Young Willard, his nose and mouth filled with the hotly ammoniac drenching 
of Connie's piss, with all his face washed in it, and his hair soaked, drew 
back, blinded and roaring. 

With no compunctions, Connie swung her strong left arm up to catch Harry 
across the bridge of his nose. 

And then, while the shocked and surprised Harry was blinded by the powerful 
blow across his nose, Connie raised her head, sank her strong, white teeth 
into the muscular shoulder of the other boy, grinding with all the strength 
of her jaws. It was a cruel and painful surprise, cutting through tough skin 
and hard muscle, leaving two gashes over an inch long, from which blood 
flowed profusely. 

She thrust her sweated body up off the mat, and aimed a barefooted kick at 
Roy's face, catching him just above the ear. It was enough to throw him off 
balance, but his reflexes were those of a trained athlete, and he grabbed 
Connie's ankle, twisting and pulling. 

She fell with all the weight of her body on the pile of mats, and the three 
boys, all of them enraged, fell on her at once. 

She went down under the three hard, naked bodies, her lovely breasts crushed 
painfully under two of the big kids, while the third, still screaming with 
rage because Connie had pissed in his face, grabbed a handful of cunt hair 
and tried to wrench it up by the roots. She could not help screaming, and 
Connie's voice was back, recovered, in its full timbre. 

Young Priest, who was shedding blood over all of the quartet, was the first 
to roll away, cursing, and he yelled: "Fuck her, you guys! Hold her down and 
pour it on her! Goddamn BITCH!" 

In the woman's struggles, which were desperate, grunting, panting, she 
pushed Harry part way off her. But now Roy Willard leaped astride her body, 
his full weight on her belly, and he held one of her clawing hands as Harry 
caught the other. Immediately, with his long, hard cock between her fine 
breasts, his hard knees in her armpits, he began to slap the woman savagely, 
methodically, first on one side of her face, then on the other. 

Anyone who has ever been slapped with uncontrolled brutality knows what it 
is like to "see stars." Connie's vision was blurred by a haze of bright 
lights, there was a growing burden of hard pain that kept her eyes stinging 
with tears, and each slap was like a pistol shot in her ears. At the same 
time, the big boy on top of her was shoving that marvelous cock of his 
between her big, soft breasts, held together by his knees, and she was aware 
of it. Even in the unbearable pain of the slapping, she was aware of the 
cock. 

But at last there was a respite from the beating. It came from an unlikely 
source, her friend Harry. 

"Cut it out, you goddamned idiot!" he grated, knocking Roy's arms aside. 
"Don't leave any marks! You know enough to know that! If somebody ever 
squawks, it's their word against ours. As long as there's no black eyes, or 
split lips. Haven't you got a dab of sense?" 

"The dirty bitch pissed in my face," young Willard screamed. "Look at me! 
Smell me!" 

"Okay, baby," Harry said, trying not to laugh. "So you got pissed on. I've 
heard you say of women not half this good looking that you'd let 'em piss in 
your eye, just to see where it came from. So, you saw it. You don't have to 
kill her just because she tried to defend herself as best she could." 

"And look what she did to me," the tall Priest boy, tight end on the Santa 
Elena High School team, moaned. "I bet I've lost a quart of blood! How the 
hell am I going to stop this?" He sounded frightened, and Connie, who was 
now able to see and hear, since that hard and painful beating had ceased, 
was inwardly glad that she had paid off at least one of her tormentors with 
something not easy to forget. But she remained still, deathly afraid of the 
hornet's nest she had stirred up with her resistance. 

"Cut it out," Harry growled. "You're no cry baby, Priest. I've seen you hurt 
twice as bad as that, and not even know it until after a game. Go put some 
water on it, and some iodine. And then close those cuts with band aids. 
Sonofabitch," and he held Connie's long blonde hair and jerked it painfully, 
"you came on mighty tough, lady!" 

He laughed, and it was not a merry sound. He leaned over and spat in 
Connie's face, a shower of saliva that splattered all over her face. "We'll 
see how you like it, baby. When old Sammy eats your cunt lips right out of 
your fat snatch! Hear that, Priest?" he cried to the big boy now in the 
bathroom. "Maybe you can take a big bite right out of Old Lady Haire's 
pussy!" 

Roy Willard, still holding the woman's big, warm breasts closely around his 
cock, continued to saw back and forth in this tender valley. He laughed at 
the horror in Connie's expression. "He's only kidding, lady," the boy said 
in a mean tone. "Remember, he wouldn't let me knock you around anymore. 
Knock you up, maybe, ho-ho-ho, but not knock you around." Nevertheless, he 
reached back as if he were riding a horse, and slapped the startled Connie 
several loud, painful blows with his open hand on her smooth thigh. 

Harry, whose eyes still ran a few tears from the unexpected blow the woman 
had dealt him, had to laugh. "You silly bastard," he exclaimed, "ten guys 
like you couldn't knock this old broad up. Woman like her, she's on those 
pills. That right, Miz Haire?" And he jerked at Connie's tresses, making her 
groan in pain. "See, Roy?" he asked. "This hurts a woman to beat hell, gives 
her a headache, and she couldn't show any marks if she was going to 
complain." 

He reached around the muscular rump of the big boy who was fucking Connie 
between the tits and laid his big hand on her pussy. As his fingers went 
down into the slickness of her inner lips, he said in a tense voice: "Man, 
this is one hot lady! She really digs to fuck. What we ought to do, she's 
got at least three good holes, you know what I mean? We ought to make a 
three way sandwich out of her. Get her on top of maybe Priest. His cock in 
her snatch okay? You can get a head job. She can suck cock like nobody you 
ever knew. I guarantee! And I," and here he goosed his long fingers deep 
into the captive woman's body, striking her womb's mouth a sickening jolt, 
"I'll stick it in her ass! Wow!" He twisted his finger again inside Connie's 
vagina, hurting her, and tears of agony and frustration welled from her 
eyes. 

"Harry," she gasped. "Please! I thought we were friends." She tried to pitch 
the Willard boy off her, straining as hard as she could, but he held down 
one arm, and Harry held the other, so that all she could do was strain and 
twist her body. 

Harry squealed with laughter, drawing his finger out of her cunt and wiping 
it along her upper lip. "Tough shit," he said. "I meant to tell you about 
this club. If one guy brings in a girl, any other guy that wants a little, 
he can have her, too. Ask Sammy boy. He brought his little sister, and five 
of us banged her. Rules, you know!" He began to laugh, and the Willard boy, 
sucking in his breath, stopped shoving his big prick between her boobs. 
Strangely, his action seemed worse than the titty-fucking, now that he had 
stopped. At least, while he was ramming that big, smooth skinned peter 
between her responsive breasts, she was getting some pleasure. 

The thought shocked her. Getting some pleasure from having a young male 
piglet abuse me, she thought darkly, when I'd like to cut his cock and balls 
off and stuff them down his throat! 

She looked somewhat less miserable, and an idea came to her. If I play along 
with these junior lechers, maybe I can get away. To Harry, she said with a 
touch of anger: "Then why in hell didn't you tell me? I told you I could 
fuck a dozen guys like you under the table. What's the matter with you, Roy 
Willard? Can't cum, huh? Big boy, don't know how to lick a pussy, scared to 
cum for fear you can't cum again! Big deal!" 

She could move her torso, at least her loins, and she did so. "If I had your 
finger in my cunt now," she said in grim amusement to Harry, "I could chew 
it off with my pussy. You're some kind of in-between nuts-not boys any 
longer, maybe, but you sure as hell are sorry specimens of men." 

Surprisingly, and encouragingly, Harry began to laugh. "You're really 
something, Miz Haire," he said. "She means it, Willard. She really thinks 
she can fuck us down. And she really has got a snapping pussy. Like to 
milked my dick right off my crotch." He let go of her hair, and reached to 
get one of her swollen nipples, which he pinched brutally. No fun for Connie 
in this, only pure pain. "Think we ought to try to fuck her down, fair and 
square, Roy baby?" 

Now it was Roy who spat in the woman's face. "Shit, no!" he snarled. "She 
pissed in my face. I'm going to cum between her fat old tits, and shoot my 
cream all over her face. Up her nose. In her hair. And then, after it goes 
down, I'm going to piss all over her. Down her throat. And then we're all 
going to work on her at once. All of us. And we're going to fuck her until 
she begs for mercy. Like we did with that church lady from over by Ransome 
City. You ought to've seen her, Miz High-and-Mighty Haire! She got so fucked 
up, so out of her tree from us banging her, that she came by here every 
Thursday night. After choir practice, yet!" He raised his big face to the 
ceiling and laughed in a long wolf howl. "She was fuck-nutty, Miz 
Shit-Don't-Stick Haire! And you'll be, too. When we get through!" 

Connie drew a deep breath. She had instinctively tried to protest herself, 
using any means she could, when she had let her stored up urine fly in young 
Willard's face. And there was something fanatic in the boy, either hatred 
for women or overblown ego, which made that harmless defense a horrible 
thing in his young eyes. She was in real danger, and she knew it. But still, 
there was the wild picture of being sexually used by all three of these 
young studs! It was a crazy thought, but she held it: It might be more 
wildly exciting than anything I've ever known. If only I could deal with one 
at a time! That way, maybe I could handle them. 

She asked Harry in an ordinary tone if he would release her right arm. "I 
promise, I won't kill either of you," she said with a gasping laugh. "I want 
to scratch my nose, for one thing. And I want to rub old Willard's peter. 
Honest, Roy. It felt so good between my boobs-I don't see why you had to 
stop." 

She rubbed the heavy kid's prick, and even used her free hand to push her 
right breast up. "If you move up just a little, you could fuck between my 
tits, and each time the head came to my chin, I could suck it a little. Man, 
that's a hot idea! And Harry could kneel down between my legs and get it in 
me. Wow! I'm getting hot, just thinking about it!" 

Some of her heat affected them. Even Roy Willard seemed to cool his 
animosity. "She's not kidding," Harry said. "She's the hottest woman I ever 
ran across. Hey, go on, move up, let her suck it as you push up to her lip! 
And I'll stick it in her twat!" 

It was not strange that Connie's heart began to beat faster. She was, in 
truth, a very, very hot lady. And the aroma of the big kid's heavy cock, 
having its thick skin pulled back at each lunge between her warm, smooth 
pillows of tit-flesh, made her mouth water. 

She groaned with a deep swell of pleasure as Harry got the purple head of 
his big cock into her cuntal aperture. It was still wildly tender from her 
long orgasm, from young Willard's hard sucking. 

"OOOOOOOOH! OH, HARRY, GO EASY! BABY, BABY! OH, IT HURTS ME SO GOOOOODDD!" 
She hunched her strong loins up and down in an easy swell, and Roy, his face 
a grinning mask of lust, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up. 

Sure enough, his cock was just coming to her lips. When she opened them, 
after shooting out her pink tongue to slick them with spit, his cock went 
partway into her mouth. 

She sucked it like a plum, and groaned as she had to let it go. "OH, ROY," 
she moaned. "I HATE TO LOSE IT! SHOOT THAT CREAM FOR ME, BABY! OOOOOOHHH! I 
LOVE IT SO!" 

Her body made a series of hard, fast moves on Harry's cock, and most of her 
fear left her. Men might lose their tempers, but only maniacs stayed angry 
with a woman who gave them a good fuck, a happy time. And the big prick 
prodding into her juice-loose cunt felt better now than ever. It was a weird 
pleasure, the rankness of off-beat sex, the spice of danger. And the strange 
feeling that she would come out of this desperate situation without harm. 
She sucked briefly on the head of Roy's cock. It was gorgeous, its 
high-smelling residues seeming to go perfectly with this unsanctified scene. 
When she rolled her eyes at him, and stroked her hand up and down his hard 
belly, he hunched harder, and almost two inches of his cock went right into 
her mouth, so she could swirl her tongue around it. 

"MAMA! MAMA!" he yelled. "Tenison, you dog, you really knew something! WOW!" 
he cried as he again surged into her saliva dripping lips, "This is too 
good! TOOOOOO GOOOOODDD!" 

There was a sudden rise of pressure in his balls. This was the most exciting 
woman he had ever known, better than the best he had ever hoped to get his 
cock into. That beautiful face, with its full red lips, sucking his cock as 
he rammed it between the softness of her big, perfect tits-man! And the 
titties were so warm and smooth against his hard thighs, their nipples 
almost blood red with her excitement and heat. He turned to look back, and 
old Tenison had his eyes closed in ecstasy, his big cock working in and out 
of those soft lips. He could see that Harry's tool was big enough to drag 
part of her cunt's pink lining out with it. Or did she just have an educated 
cunt that sucked on a guy? 

He saw the sweat-or maybe it was overflowing cum juice-on the insides of 
Connie's thighs. Hot, hot, hot! He looked back and noted for the first time 
that Connie, unlike most older women, did not shave her armpits. Marvelous! 
Like the young chickies, she had a rankly sweated tuft of curly hair under 
each arm. Only more of it than the young foxes had. In a surprise to him, he 
began to cum. 

And Connie, cumming too, strained to keep her mouth on the red and swollen 
cockhead as it shot its big mouthfuls of slick, rich jism. Some of it 
splattered her face. Some of it, to Roy's hard delight, shot up her nose and 
into her hair. But the beautiful part was, she was sucking, trying to get it 
just as it shot, and she was swallowing it! What a woman! A jism lover! He 
had a momentary tenderness toward her, his anger, hard held inside him, 
cooled a trifle. 

Behind him, he heard Harry begin to bellow: "OH, LADY! FUCK ME GOOD, FUCK ME 
HARD! OOOOOOHHH, MY PRICK! FUCK IT HARD! FUCK IT HARD! I'M 
CUMMMMMIIINNNGGGG! OOOOOOHHH! OH GOD, HOW GOOD!" 

The heat from both of these strange caressing abuses of her warm body had 
changed Connie's mood from despair, pain, confusion and hate to a different, 
a sweeter feeling. 

Her orgasm had been long lasting, deeply swirling in her guts. The friction 
on her clit, as Harry pushed his big organ into her, had triggered the huge 
wave of fluttering cum quakes. And the pounding of his heavy cock, at an 
angle which made him massage her cervix with every plunging stroke, made 
sure that the delightful cumming warmed her all through every inch of her 
fuck system. 

On top of that, young Willard's load of sperm had been so mouth-filling, so 
rankly, richly sweet, and his cock-and-tit massage had been so stirring, 
that it had all come together to give her one of the most magical sexual 
experiences of her life. 

She was lying relaxed, eyes closed, her tired head lying on one cheek, 
feeling big Harry Tenison's cock still trembling inside her, when she heard 
the bathroom door open. Heard Sam Priest's voice. 

"Been having a little fun, right? Okay! Hey, I've got an idea. Didn't I hear 
you tell Willard he couldn't knock up a lady like this one?" He pulled his 
bandaged shoulder under his eyes and looked at it. "We've got all afternoon. 
All night, if we need it. And I know someone we can knock up! Little 
angel-pants, the prissy-ass virgin! Know what I mean? Janice Haire!" And 
they all howled in animal glee. 

Connie's heart sank. She now knew there was no kindness in these kids toward 
which she might respond, hoping they would respond as she did. And Janice! 
Hot, vulnerable, gullible little Jannie. Oh God! These wolves would tear her 
apart with their cocks. 

And then she had a bittersweet thought. At least, they'd get no maidenhead. 
Dick had taken care of that! 

 Chapter Eight 

In the big corner bedroom of the dignified old motel, Dick felt a glow of 
pride in himself and his daughter. Less than three months ago, she had been 
a frightened, shrinking child, afraid of life, afraid of sex, afraid of 
everything. Except, just possibly, of her parents. And, for obvious 
reasons-at least, Dick felt they were obvious-some instinct had driven her 
to him. For the sort of support, the sort of instructions, she would need. 

He held the dark haired child in the crook of his arm, playing with her 
lavishly beautiful young titties. She still had a marvelous tan, except for 
two narrow stripes where her scanty bikinis cupped her young titties and 
that narrow space across her loins where the curly dark hair grew in a light 
patch across her throbbing little cunt. Those stripes of skin were 
milk-white, the translucent beauty that is set off by tender traceries of 
blue veins marking where hot blood feeds the flesh and nerves and fibers of 
life. In the upper of these two white stripes, barely covering the warmly 
erected nipples, the girl felt each heartbeat in their erotic nerve ends. 
She squealed as Dick's mouth closed over one of them, as he sucked hard, 
giving her a gut-deep thrill clear down to her palpitating young crotch. 

When he let go, she buried her flushed face in his chest, kissing at the mat 
of hair, licking his sweat. Her hand rubbed softly along his sticky cock, 
and she sighed as she thought of the time. They would have to leave, soon. 
Not even time for another fuck. But her mouth watered for the feel and 
richness of taste that his big organ always gave her. 

She pushed away and scrunched down, not saying anything, not looking at him. 
When she got her face into the fragrant, sweat-marked crotch area, she 
rubbed her smooth young cheek on the sweet flesh and skin of his prick, and 
began to lip at its head, very gently. As he patted her head, moving it here 
and there unconsciously, she giggled. "Can't you trust me to do it right?" 
she asked. "After all these weeks?" 

He let her suck him, moving his body in pleasure, until she got warmed up 
and moved her butt toward his face. He pulled her legs apart and got her 
across his body, so that he could look directly into her wide-open pussy. It 
was gorgeously feminine, still girlish but so beautifully on its way to 
full-fleshed, fully-haired maturity. 

"What a little beauty," he said softly, raising his head to lick between 
those perfect cunt lips, to taste and inhale the lovely juices and aromas 
which their lovemaking had produced. 

The girl made herself into a little bundle and rolled around, kissing him on 
the mouth. "You're about to tell me we have to go, aren't you, daddy?" she 
asked, smiling. "I always know that note in your voice. Even when we 
first-uh-did anything." 

He stroked her warm, smooth back. He did not allow himself to think too 
often of Connie when he and Jan were together. To him, that would have been 
sick, sick, sick. He had what this precious child had needed, the know-how 
and the raunchy type of guts that made it possible for him to instruct her 
in the raw details of sex. If Connie could only know! But, with God's help, 
she never would. And he knew, in his heart, that Connie, being a woman and a 
mother, could never have given this kid the hard, unvarnished, lifelong 
instruction that he could. Because he was a man, because he had his own deep 
respect for women and their sexuality, and because he loved this miniature 
woman enough to spare her nothing. 

Except one thing. He had never bungholed her, never stuck his big prick into 
the tenderness of her tight little asshole. Someday, assuredly, he would. On 
some bright day when they were alone, when Janice would have grown into a 
young woman rather than a child. When they were full of laughter at old 
times, when Jannie was having her own secret love life. And, of course, when 
Connie was out of town. Then he would take it, not carefully, afraid of 
damaging the little puckery ring that was her sweet little shit hole. But in 
laughter and love and lust, enjoying her squeals of mingled protest and 
acquiescence. 

He gave a lovingly brutal twist to her firm young breast, so bountiful in 
its present opulence, so much more so in its promise. "Wise guy, aren't 
you?" he said. "It's a good thing one of us has sense enough to get up and 
get dressed and get the hell out of here. And listen, young lady, you know 
we're coming to the end of an era, don't you? Much as I love you-and I 
promise you, you'll always be my most cherished little fucking friend-I 
can't keep on being married to two women. If your mother doesn't find us out 
and kill me for it, I'll die of being over fucked." 

He made a comically exaggerated face of concern, and the young girl laughed 
deep in her throat and clung to him. "I know," she said, and there was the 
vibration of tears in her voice. "I know, daddy. You know I love you for 
what you've done for me. You know I thank you from the bottom of my heart." 
She had her hand on his cock again, holding it in a warm, moist grip, 
squeezing it gently. "And this, I mean being with you all afternoon like 
this, it's been wonderful!" 

She began to sniffle, still frigging his cock slowly and gently, and he 
laughed and swatted her on her gorgeous little rump. "It may very well be 
the only time we'll ever have it this way," he said, and there was a 
definite regret in his voice. "Three weeks ago, on this date, we went to my 
office. Remember?" 

She looked up at him under her long eyelashes, where a crystal tear or two 
hung suspended. "Yes. Yes I do. Oh, daddy, I'm not complaining if this 
really is the last time! You've taught me so much! I'll make out okay. I'm 
not a scaredy cat anymore." She threw her soft, strong young arms around his 
neck, kissing him all over his ruggedly handsome face. "Oh, that day in the 
office! How lovely!" 

In spite of his armor of self trust, in spite of his conviction that sex is 
beautiful, and does no one any harm unless thoughtlessness or malice are 
present, Dick winced. He had spent almost two months of a deeply sexual, 
explicitly sensual relationship with this young girl-without going over the 
edge. 

"Show me where my best places are," the girl would demand, flushed and 
laughing as they enjoyed their beautiful moments together. And Dick, holding 
her thick, warm cunt lips apart, looking into the draining pinkness of 
oozing labia and vein-reddened membrane, would reply: "No, baby. I'll touch. 
And you tell me!" And he would lick, or poke a gentle finger around her 
clit, or into the slick, tight ring of slickened muscle around her cuntal 
aperture. Or perhaps he would slip his hard tongue into her, if they were 
where they could lie together in warmth and confidence, naked to each 
other's touch and sight. In the car, they couldn't. But when Connie was 
away, for a night meeting, or a long day with her committees, ah, those were 
the bright moments. 

"I'm glad you've got the kind of job you have," the young girl sighed on one 
of the first of these occasions. "And I'm so glad you aren't mean about me 
learning-well-some of these hard things." 

"Like what?" he would ask, teasing her, but wanting her to feel comfortable 
with the toughly lovely language of sexual love. 

"Like, uh, like sucking you off," the child would say, and bury her flaming 
face against him. And he would take her bright face and set it on his hard 
prick, trembling with love and excitement as her sweet and girlish mouth 
went on over that monstrous thing. And she would say: "I want to watch him 
shoot off! I want that white stuff to shoot out on me, and hit me in the 
titties! But oh, daddy, I want it in my mouth, too! To feel it swell so big, 
and feel that hot, sweet tasting stuff shoot all over the inside of my 
mouth!" 

And this would lead to another laughing demand: "When are you going to let 
me have him in my vagina? And shoot all that stuff into me? 'Cause it's 
okay, isn't it? Now I'm on the Pill?" 

She had been so proud of that. And Dick, compressing memories of these 
nearly three months into a few seconds, quivered inside with doubt. Had he 
really, truly meant to help this girl grow into a real person? To mature? To 
lose her fear? That's what he'd told himself when he put her on The Pill. 
But deep inside him, a leering satyr appeared in the mists of his mind, 
saying: "You dog, you! All the time, you meant to fuck her!" And he could 
only answer: "Maybe. It could be." 

Incredible that it had been only three weeks since he had first ravaged her 
young and tender cunt! And, if he had only known, that was also the day that 
Connie saw them. How was she to know that, until that day, it had been only 
a phase of his instruction? But he had gone as far as he could go. And 
remain sane. That day, one of the precious times when they dared to enjoy 
the fullness of lying together naked, when little Jannie had suddenly become 
more demanding. If there were any pivotal point in this relationship, 
perhaps it was that day. That one day too many, that one dare too many. 

But, looking at the reality of this warm, firmly shaped little naked girl, 
now so fuck-wise and suck-wise, Dick knew he could never be sorry, never 
feel remorse. That one day hadn't started it. Maybe, his marrying the 
beautiful mother of a year-old baby girl had been the starting point. 
Especially since the baby girl had come to such marvelously grown up 
loveliness in her thirteenth year. 

On that day of Connie's painful discovery, it took only a tiny spark to blow 
everything up. Dick had playfully pushed the young girl on her back, and she 
had laughingly raised her strong young legs, opening her girlish pussy. "Go 
on, I dare you!" she had said. "I double dare you! OOOOOOOHHH, DADDY! HOLD 
ME TIGHT! I'M CUUUUMMMIINNNNGGGG!" An she had thrown herself on him, fucking 
up and down on his thigh as he held her, laughing, his tongue as hard as his 
cock. 

"You just lie still, baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Unless you truly mean 
you want me to stick it in you! That's all that's left. You've had my cock 
down your sweet throat. You've eaten my jism!" 

The girl trembled hard, holding on to his arms, and then said: "I guess this 
is it. I can't go on like this, letting you teach me, so patient and loving! 
Oh, daddy, that's what you've been! Loving and patient! And not getting 
anything out of it. Nothing real, I mean." 

She was pressed against him and her young breasts, so large for such a 
sprite, shook with the beating of her heart. He looked at her body, so slim 
and yet so warm with the assurance of womanhood. He looked down between 
those jiggling titties to the sparse growth of dark hair on her fat little 
twat, to where her lovely thighs pressed together. His cock, its head shiny 
and dark red with the engorgement of hot blood, nodded and jerked near her 
pelvic bone. And he made up his mind. 

"I can't take a chance on hurting Connie," he said. "You know that. But 
you're right. It's gone on for too long. Get dressed. I'll drive the car 
around to the back and you can come out and get in." 

He kissed her hard, his big tongue going into her mouth in a complete and 
penetrating expression of love. "We'll go to my office," he grinned. "We'll 
go down there and pull my big red couch out and make a lovely bed. And we'll 
fuck there! Really fuck!" 

Dick Haire was regional Sales Manager for Emperor Electric, which, he 
sometimes said, was better than owning the company. "I make almost as much 
as a vice-president," he loved to joke, "and I don't have the 
responsibility." 

His office was large, with a private hideaway, complete with a large, 
luxurious couch that became a soft bed almost at a touch. Nobody knew of 
this bed except Dick. None of his salesmen. He had no office girl, 
preferring an answering service. And certainly, Connie didn't know about it. 

When they were warmly together in the comfort of the couch, with all doors 
bolted, the lithe, beautifully nude young girl once more leaned on her 
stepfather, looking up into his eyes. She was panting, her petal-like skin 
was flushed, her eyes bright. "Now," she whispered brokenly. "Now, daddy 
Dick! Let it happen! I want it so!" 

The big man had moved easily between the young girl's thighs, smiling down 
at her tense face. Once more, she put her legs up, but this time they were 
alongside his ribs, and her smooth-looking cunt, looking so pitifully young, 
was raised by her position. 

"Put it in, daddy," she whispered hoarsely. "Please! Please! I've waited so 
long! Oh, daddy, I'm so close to cumming!" 

She touched her legs to his flanks as he crouched above her on hands and 
knees. But she had moaned piteously, and her flowerlike face was taut. 

"What's the matter now?" the man asked, his patience ebbing. "You better 
make up your mind! Once I get the head in, that's it, baby! Fucksville! And 
all the yelling and screaming and begging in the world won't save you. I'm a 
little tired of this, too. So what do you want?" He sounded petulant, and 
was. 

"Oh, daddy," the girl whispered, tears in her dark eyes, "don't be mad! I 
just wondered-you know how I can't control myself when I start to get off." 
Her smile was apologetic. "Can people hear me, here? When I shoot it, I 
mean." 

She was beautiful, so appealing, her lovely young body so full of promise 
and life, that Dick was touched. "Sorry," he said. His voice was choked, but 
his smile was warm again. "Holler all you like. These walls are fireproof, 
sound proof, so let yourself go. You know, baby, this kind of worries me a 
little, too." He rubbed the slick, broad head of his cock up and down in her 
softly drooling little slit. "I never even had my finger in you. Not all the 
way. I don't want to split you wide open." 

She had reached between them, taking a firm but gentle hold on his cock. Her 
heels rested lightly on his back. "I'm not all that small, not really," she 
said. "I've been doing what you told me to. When we first started talking 
about it." She frigged the soft skin back and forth, and now it was the girl 
who had the most confidence, for she was grinning as the warmth of the big 
cock felt so good in her small, soft hand. "I got one finger into it a long 
time ago. When you first told me-well, all that stuff-you know what I mean, 
I got two in there. Don't worry. It'll go in. I'll make it go in!" 

He let her pull him down to her by his prick, maintaining balance easily on 
his muscular arms. "If I just don't overheat and shoot it all over you," he 
said. What a great kid she was! All guts. And all of it in less than three 
months. 

"Holler if it hurts you," he said. "Oh, Beautiful, baby! WOWEE! OH, god DAMN 
IT! OH! OH!" 

He was still above her, his cock only an inch or just a bit more into that 
pink little hole. Her eyes were shut tight, and he could see her eyeballs 
move, under the lids. What pictures did a girl look at during her first 
fuck? What did she see, in her own private darkness? She was biting her 
upper lip so hard that it was whiter than her teeth, and he moaned as 
something wild took place in that virgin cunt. 

There was a flurry of muscle, a warm rush of juice which he could feel, 
flooding around his cock. If she hadn't assured him, time after time, that 
she had never had a maidenhead, he would have sworn it was her blood. But 
that quick, kissing flutter! It was too much, it was like the best and 
wildest suck he had ever gotten. 

There was a flush of hot blood all through his body as he let more of his 
weight fall on his rigid prick. He tried to shove it all in, and it wouldn't 
go. The clasp of her muscles-could a kid this age have a flutter in her 
cunt?-shook him, and he withdrew until the big head was just inside the 
tender lips. 

He banged down on her with all his weight, exasperated. His cock went in 
only a fraction of an inch more, and the girl suddenly screamed: "OH, DADDY! 
THAT'S IT! THAT'S WHAT I WANT! HURT ME!" 

Her wild yelling made his head ache, and he felt as if his cock would break, 
it was so hard. And her cunt was so small. And it had hurt him to jam it 
into her. God damn it all! But he looked at her, saw that her face was 
white, and on its paleness, a small archipelago of dark freckles stood out 
distinctly. 

"Sorry, baby," he said contritely. "I feel like a shitass. Roll on your 
side. Come on, damn it," he said grumpily. "I think you lied to me! I think 
you've got a maidenhead." 

He was facing her, his cock, or at least an inch or so of it, barely inside 
her, and she was riding on it, back and forth, with a little smile of 
triumph on her face. It felt marvelous to him, a change from all that 
straining. Now, her sweet, hot little cunt was slipping and sliding up and 
down the tender head of his cock. 

"I got so damned hot, there at the house," he said, feeling suddenly better. 
"To get a hard-on like that, and not shoot off, baby, baby! That's murder! 
Girls don't know what stone-ache is." 

She fucked very gently, her young face serene, her clear, dark eyes on him, 
her love shining. "I feel too good!" she exclaimed. "OH, DADDY DICK! 
OHHHHHHHH!" She pumped against him with machine gun speed, her tiny cunt 
just lipping the startled head of his big tool. "OHHHHHH! OH WOW! OH WOW! I 
CAN'T STAND IIIIIITTTTTT!" 

Her shriek was high and almost unintelligible, but he could feel that 
unbelievable tremor of young cunt muscle around the head of his prick. "Let 
it out, baby!" he cried happily. "Pour it out for daddy! Come on, baby! 
We're fucking! Get it all out!" 

She flung her strong, warm young body at him as if it had been shot from a 
cannon. Her mouth was open, her pink tongue coiled inside as saliva dripped 
from her lips. She looked as wild as a caged nymph, and ten times more 
beautiful. He could see her big, mature breasts, almost out of proportion 
for such a slender body, but he knew that it was the circumstances, the fire 
of her big shoot-off, that had sent fresh, hot blood pounding into them. 

He was so fired by the sight of her sweated young body, at the swollen young 
cunt lips which he could see trying to swallow his big cock, that he drew 
his loins back and slammed into her again. 

"DADDY! DADDY! OHHHHH! BEAUTIFUL! MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, DADDY! OHHHHHH! MAKE ME 
CUM! OHHHHHH, FUCK ME HARD!" She screamed the hard and raunchy words of love 
in his face, her breath smelling more carnal, now that she was hung in the 
middle of a series of orgasms. He was amazed that he was holding his load, 
and then realized that he was so interested in his stepdaughter's first-fuck 
reactions that he had almost forgotten his own needs. 

Almost, but not quite. He was suddenly washed with an intensity of desire, a 
hot pressure in his balls. The girl had closed her eyes again, and she was 
trembling, not as hard as her fits of lust when she came, but in spasms that 
jerked her soft, strong young body. She was moaning, and he realized that 
she had kept this keening wail going every since her last orgasm, her last 
fit of screaming. 

"Heyyyyyy! Listen, baby, where you coming from?" he asked her, giving one of 
her swollen breasts a hard squeeze. He loved the feel of that soft, firm, 
girlish titty-meat, the fact that he could almost make his fingers and thumb 
meet as he dug into that tenderness. And he got results. 

He should have expected it. She was so much like her mother. Connie was 
riper and fuller in breast and thigh and belly. Cunt, too. But he had 
rejoiced, in that afternoon just three short weeks ago, that daughter and 
mother were so alike. 

As his fingers and thumb almost met in the tender, softly filled flesh of 
her glowing breast, there was a certain feel. And the girl's fierce scream 
as she flung her body at him, her total response to the total pleasure of 
having her titty squeezed in such loving shock, that, too, was like Connie. 

He was dressing, getting ready to take his daughter sedately home, and she 
was watching him, smiling, her knees open so that the vermilion lips of her 
inner cuntal lining shone wetly. Red, now, with engorged surface veins, from 
all that sex. Fucking and sucking. But three weeks ago, a different sort of 
red. 

The girl suddenly spoke. "You're thinking about three weeks ago today," she 
said. "And it's a happy thought." 

He laughed, coming over to sit on the bed, putting his hand on the softness, 
the wet-haired warmth of her young pussy. "You're a mind reader. I was 
thinking of it. I've thought of it a lot. But how did you know?" 

She used her two hands to hold his wrist, to rub his fingers up and down in 
her sweetly juicing split. "It's what I was thinking, daddy. I can always 
pick up on what you're thinking." 

"I'm thinking you'd better get your pretty little butt up off that 
mattress," he said. "Because I'm leaving in about three minutes." 

He turned back to the mirror to finish knotting his tie, and grinned at the 
sweet rankness of the lady-juice that he had picked up from between little 
Jannie's grown up cunt lips. And his mind went back again to that incredible 
scene in his office. Thinking of how Janice had responded when he smashed 
her breast. Wild! Beautiful! 

He had been so nerved up from that long hour of sex play in Jan's own bed. 
Usually, she would have made him cum. But his sudden determination to 
consummate it, to really fuck her, to make her a woman, had intervened. 

And here she was, on her side, gracefully using her body, riding his cock 
which was only partly in her. And brutalizing her young tits had made it 
happen. 

So much like Connie! And he had often, in their loving play, given her what 
she called "a titty-cum," just from sucking her nipples, squeezing the big, 
soft pillows of mammary tissue, biting the creased hardness of their points. 

He saw Jannie getting out of bed and pulling her dress on over her head. No 
bra. No panties. Well, he'd pocket a washcloth from the motel. She could sit 
on it, going home. And looking at how she handled her nymph-like body, he 
remembered how she had worked herself up and down, back and forth on his 
dick. Nearly killing him, she banged on it so hard. And then-incredible! He 
was all the way in, into a marvelous place where all the fucking delights 
that man can ever dream of were taking place. 

True, it was still very, very tight. But that terrible constriction was 
gone. It felt very warm, very slick and oily, inside his daughter's vagina. 
And there was more moisture. It was running out of her and down his thigh. 
And it all centered in his mind and his cock and in the nerves that 
triggered his cumming. 

"OH, GOD, BABY!" he had screamed. As bad as my little baby doll, he said to 
himself, grinning inwardly. Plumb out of my nut. Well, a girl deserves a 
little noise when a guy cops her cherry. It gave him a rush of warmth, 
remembering. Only maidenhead I ever got. 

What a day that had been! How little Jannie had laughed and cried, holding 
herself against him, both drenched in sweat and jism and pussy juice and 
virgin blood. Virgin blood! Unbelievable! 

She got into the car when he pulled up outside the side entrance to the old 
motel, half hidden from the road by weeping willows and ancient pepper 
trees. Impulsively, with one warm little hand on his hard thigh, she leaned 
against him, her voluptuous breasts straining at the light fabric of her 
dress. "It's been such a lovely day, daddy," she whispered, and turned away 
to hide the fact that tears were coursing down her cheeks. Such a day might 
never come again. 

 Chapter Nine 

There was little or no argument about who would go and trap little Janice. 
"This is lovely stuff," the raw boned Tenison kid said, working one big 
finger cruelly into Connie's nervously tender cunt. Making her bite her lip 
to keep from screaming, making her turn away so these oafs couldn't have the 
pleasure of seeing the fear in her eyes. "Lovely. But I've had enough. I 
want Janice!" 

Connie knew one thing for sure, knew it with a hard pang of personal fear 
and deep regret. They would do whatever they wanted with her, and with poor 
Jannie. They were right, no woman in her right mind would go through the 
degrading torture of a rape complaint against these football heroes. She had 
already had samples of how they could so skillfully dissemble, how they 
could turn on the charm, the wide-eyed innocence of phony boyhood. Boyhood! 
These creatures had never been little boys. They had been born old, steeped 
in the blackness of sexual inhumanity from birth. But she would not give in. 

I can take it, she thought. I'm more than halfway through with life, anyhow. 
But Jannie! Oh, God! Help us both! 

"Yeah, man! Go pick up little angel-puss. She likes you, man! Shit!" and the 
bulky Priest boy laughed. "You could probably fuck her without anybody 
holding her down! And I'll keep big mama busy while you're away!" He laughed 
again, sinking his hard thumb, his powerful fingers into the softness of 
Connie's thighs, a painful grip that made her convulse with pain. "Wow!" he 
said. "She sure is tender, ain't she? Bet she'll scream when you sock it in 
her asshole! Hurry back, Tenison. Maybe we'll make little Jannie suck her 
off a couple of times. Wow!" And he pinched Connie again, so that Harry had 
to grab his arm. 

"You goddamned idiot!" he snarled. "I told you, don't leave any marks on 
her. That way, she could maybe make a charge of rape stick. Listen," and he 
gazed solemnly at first Roy, then Sammy, "I don't want to find her marked 
up, hear? Fuck her all you want. Suck her pussy until she shoots clear up 
the wall. But don't mark her up!" 

In a most mannerly way, once he had walked up on the Haires' front porch, 
Harry rang the door chimes and stepped back, his face showing a sober 
concern. When no one answered, he cursed, went out and started his car, and 
drove down to the shopping center three blocks away. There was a pay 
telephone stall there, and he dialed a number. 

When he heard a familiar voice, he said: "The kid's not home yet. And it's 
after four. Ask her old lady how come?" 

He heard the mumble of voices, and Connie's voice, saying clearly: "Fuck 
you, you stupid sonofabitch!" 

There was the sound of a slap and he let out a howl as Roy came back to the 
phone: "She's right. You ARE a stupid sonofabitch! Why'd you hit her?" 

"I slapped her on her ass," the Willard boy said. "Priest is banging her dog 
fashion. It won't show. Anyhow, stay where you can see what happens. The 
kid's got to come home." 

Willard was right. A few minutes after Harry had parked where he could watch 
both streets along which Jan might appear, he saw her. But his heart sank. 
She was with her dad. And Harry didn't kid himself. Everyone in town knew 
Dick Haire's war record, knew he was one tough sonofabitch. But he stayed 
where he watched, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Janice get out of 
the car, saw her dad drive away. 

He waited a couple more minutes, then went and rang the door bell. When the 
bright faced child opened the door and said: "Oh, hi, Harry! How nice to see 
you! Come in!" It almost turned him away from what he had started to do. It 
was so evident that she liked him. And maybe it was true, what old Sammy had 
said, maybe he could screw her just because she liked him. 

But he thought of the contempt he would have to take from his peers, not 
just Sammy and Roy, but all the others who shared the so-called club house. 

He made his face look worried, pitched his voice to sound the same way. "I'm 
sorry to bring you bad news, Jan," he said. "But I didn't know what else to 
do. Your mom's, well, she's hurt. Not bad!" he cried, as Janice's face went 
white and she grabbed at a chair to keep from falling. "A twisted ankle. And 
I couldn't carry her by myself. She said to get you. Can you make it?" And 
then, so falsely that even he felt a twinge of guilt, "is your dad home? He 
can help." 

It was like a dream, the way she ran to his car, and he licked his thick 
lips, following her, watching the play of her softly muscled young butt as 
she moved ahead of him. 

They were downtown in a few minutes, across the highway, into the rather 
dismal industrial section where fine old homes huddled under the shower of 
soot from factories. 

"A few of us guys have a little place we use for a club," he said 
diffidently, as he parked in front of the big old garage. "Your mom said 
maybe she and your dad would donate an old couch, or something, so I let her 
in." They were out, and the girl was hurrying toward the door, with Harry, 
grinning his shit-eating grin, again watching the beautiful rhythms of her 
jiggling ass. "So she sort of stumbled before I could get the light on." 

The door opened, and Roy Willard stood there bowing sardonically, bare-ass 
naked, cock, balls, and all. And as Jannie turned to flee, the shock in her 
young face making it so blank that she was like a store-window mannequin, 
Roy leaned and caught the back of her dress, jerking her into the darkness 
of the old place. 

To make certain she would understand why she was there, he threw a heavy arm 
around her neck, putting his hand under her short dress to rub roughly at 
her cunt. And poor Connie, her own eyes somewhat glazed with shock and fear, 
saw the tender vee of Janice's young pussy, the hair on it so sparse that 
the division of her fat outer lips showed plainly. 

"There she is, boys," Harry laughed, waving his arm at Janice, who was 
immobile in Roy Willard's hard grasp, her young body obscenely on view as 
her knees bent and her belly and cunt stuck out. "And don't forget-I get 
first crack at her!" 

The horrible anger in Connie Haire made her weak, but then, as Sammy Priest 
turned up some hard overhead lights, and as Harry said: "She came home with 
her dad, who very kindly took himself off after his little darlin' was safe 
at home!" Connie leaned back on her heels, her rump not even feeling the 
contact. Running down the child's inner thigh, there was the unmistakable 
slickness of cunt juice or jism. Or both. 

The child's failure to look her in the eye-even in such a dreadful spot, she 
should look to her mother-and the news of her having been with her father 
was like a knife turned in Connie's heart. 

Every mother knows what it's like to live with a love/hate relationship with 
a kid. But none ever feels such a traumatic burn from ambivalence as the 
mother whose daughter has taken her place in daddy's bed. Connie said 
spitefully: "Why don't you let her go, Roy? I imagine you'll find her a 
better lay than I am. I know that someone else thinks so." 

She steeled her heart against the hopeless look of woe in her daughter's 
face, and said sharply: "Don't be a ninny, darling. If these big, strong 
heroes want to rape you, just remember what Confucius said: 'If Rape 
inevitable, lean back and enjoy it.' Baby, I can guarantee you, it's 
inevitable with these horny bastards!" 

She had a strange warfare going on in her emotions. In her heart, she knew 
that Jannie had just come from a rendezvous with Dick. Knew that her 
husband's big cock had churned in that sweet little cunt less than a half 
hour before, had made the child scream in the raging emotion of hard orgasm. 
If she's anything like me, she'd scream, and the thought made a desolation 
in her bosom, and ache of love, fear, and venomous spite, enough to kill 
her. 

"But mama!" the child wailed, "They told me you were hurt. Oh, Harry," and 
she turned to the big-featured boy who was eyeing her uncovered young pussy 
with avid interest, "why did you do this to me? To my mother?" 

She hardly noticed as the big Willard boy lifted her dress over her head, 
leaving her oddly mature girl-body naked. Indeed, she obediently raised her 
arms at his command, and the pull of the dress as he jerked it off over her 
head made her full, deep breasts bounce and sway. 

She was far from terrified. Like her mother, she had an innate and 
femininely optimistic intuition that she could control these guys. Her heart 
was beating faster, and she knew a deep down fear, but she was not panicked. 
Three guys, three cocks, all of them hard or nearly so. She felt a familiar, 
crawling itch in her little cunt, already so well used this afternoon. 

She heard Harry say, in a mocking tone: "I fucked your mother a couple of 
times this afternoon, and I just thought, maybe her little daughter's better 
than she is. Anyhow, it's been over a month since we got a cherry around 
here." He reached for her and she, no longer in Roy's grip, did not back 
away. Instead, she stood with a strange smile on her face, and her eyes went 
to her mother. 

All she said was: "Please don't hurt me, Harry. I've always thought of you 
as the nicest boy I know. Making the other guys let me go, that time at 
Mary's." 

Sammy Priest, now on the pile of mats holding Connie by one breast, hooted. 
"See, Tenison? She and her old lady don't understand subtlety. Listen, get 
out the cameras. I've got an idea." 

He threw Connie on her back. He pried her lovely legs apart. 

"Wow!" he said, rubbing his fingers in the thoroughly cum-basted lips of the 
older woman's split. "That looks good enough to eat! How about it, Jannie 
baby? How about eating your mama's pussy? And she can eat yours. A family 
pie-eating contest!" 

A deep anger suddenly burned in the mother. A pure flame of hatred for 
bullies who, by brutality and strength, could force any female to do what 
they wanted. And there was another feeling, too. She could not deny it to 
herself. She could not control its tiny tongues of heat which licked at 
something deeply buried inside her. Something as old as woman, as old as her 
concepts of sexuality. Like a cave woman-or rather, cave women-left too long 
at home while their men pursued the woolly mammoth for food, her body had a 
tribal knowledge, a pruriently hidden hunger, of and for the slick delights 
of woman flesh. Cunt flesh. 

Her body became taut even as her stomach writhed in anger. That small, 
slippery, pink lipped cunt! With Dick's juice in it. With Janice's clear, 
sweet cum juice in it! 

She saw the look of blind shock on the young girl's face as Harry brutally 
shoved her on to the enormous bed made by the pile of mats. And 
instinctively, hatred forgotten in their common need, their common danger, 
she held out her arms to break Jan's fall. 

"Mama!" the nubile child whimpered, as their soft bodies fell together. 
"Mama! What are these pigs doing to you?" She began to wail hysterically, 
and Connie shook her hard. 

"Lay off," she hissed in pretended anger. "Whatever they say we do, we have 
to do! Quit being a goddamned mama's girl. Anyhow," and she allowed her 
hidden hurt this one scorpion sting, "you're more daddy's girl, aren't you?" 

She felt a bruising foot against the small of her back. 

"Quit fucking around," Roy said. "Let's have a little action. I need a 
circus to get it up again." And, like a ringmaster, he cried: "Come ovah! 
Come ovah! Man-eating woman becomes girl-eater! See the cunt-lickers licking 
cunt! Wow!" and he held his sides in raunchy laughter. "Who's gonna be on 
top? Mommy? Or little baby girl?" 

Connie held Jan's head close to her, whispering: "Do what they say, baby! 
We'll get out of here, somehow. Don't mind what I said. I love you! Can you 
stand it? Just make a show of, uh, licking me." 

The child's body seemed warmer, somehow. Like most other kids of her 
generation, she knew a great deal about sex, even before she had done 
anything more than think about, or fingered herself into the flaming 
pleasure and guilt of self-induced orgasm. She knew what oral sex meant, 
boy-girl, boy-boy, girl-girl. And she had never felt disgusted, never 
thought it was wrong or rotten. Simply afraid to try. And she had a minor 
instant of triumph. I can try it and not be blamed. They're forcing me. 
They'll hurt me, and they'll hurt my mama if I don't do it. 

Lying as she was, her belly against Connie's, she was aware of a trembling 
in her loins, a strange, glowing itch in her tender little pussy. Just like 
when I hold daddy's prick, she thought. And a wildness burst in her mind, as 
if to give her a sense of escape from this shameful, desperately frightening 
reality-a bright concept of sex as a family thing, a gift to share, a 
greatness far above and beyond the stodgy, prudish, old line moral concepts 
that makes sex seem horrid and dismal and sickening. Instead of warm and 
bright and beautiful. It made her press herself harder against her mother, 
made her hand go instinctively to Connie's hotly swollen pussy, made her 
hungry mouth nestle down to Connie's throbbing breast. 

"Oh, my little baby!" Connie groaned, moving her fine body, unconsciously 
lifting her breast as she had, twelve years ago, pushing the hard, engorged 
nipple at the child's nibbling lips. 

"God damn!" Sammy Priest's voice was aching with fuck strain. "They're going 
to do it! Suck away, baby!" He slapped a big, hard hand down on Jan's 
sweetly divided young rump, making her jump. "Jesus, Roy! Will you and 
Tenison get a load of that? Like a couple of schoolgirl sweethearts! 
Sonofabitch! I wish Mamie was here! Remember how she squawked when we made 
her suck the cum out of Mary's twat?" 

He got above the two women, one over forty, the other not yet thirteen, but 
beautifully female, and tried to squeeze a few drops of piss out on them. In 
vain. He was getting a hard-on. 

He looked up at Harry and Roy, who were also on the pile of mats, their eyes 
narrowed, breathing harder. He put his hand between Connie and her daughter. 

"Cut out the touting, honey," he said, his grinning face an inch or two from 
Jan's. "Turn around, baby! Eat mama's pussy! Get on top! There, that's the 
way! Hey, you guys. Pull the old lady's ass up so baby doll can get into 
it." 

There was too much heat, too much sex tension in all of them, the three 
males, the two females, for any of them to comment on the ease with which 
they arrived at what the boys wanted. 

As her face was pulled away from her mother's, Janice had whispered: "I love 
you, too, mom!" And she had a bright picture throbbing in her mind as she 
found herself pushed and shoved into what she knew was the classic 
sixty-nine position. But I don't really know what to do, she thought. 

Nevertheless, there was a surging thrust of sexuality in her young body as 
her face was pushed down into the slick, warm, hairy folds of her mother's 
split. And an increase of that heat at the arousing aroma and savor as she 
involuntarily opened her mouth and tentatively put out her tongue to swab 
nervously in that oozing valley of trembling flesh. 

She had always had a shy but secretly aggressive love for her own body and 
its secrets-her small fingers had rubbed in her pink pussy in love and 
excitement as long as she could remember, and she knew its gut-tingling and 
zesty smells and flavors well. 

As her nose and mouth rubbed in the cum-slicked, fuck-heated cluster of 
soaked inner labia, she let herself go in a fury of uninhibited woman-lust, 
sucking and smacking and kissing and caressing, with tongue and lips, all of 
that rosy spread of mama-cunt. 

And she was no longer aware of the horrid, demeaning people who had forced 
this on her and her mother. She didn't hear their cries of lust, their 
goatishly humorous encouragement. 

"Eat her up, Jannie!" Roy Willard said hoarsely, his big cock hard and 
trembling as he got his face right down between Connie's thighs, watching 
the fury with which the girl was sucking her mom. "Man, it's beautiful! 
Watch her go!" He gave the girl's dark head a hard shove against the 
writhing cuntal surfaces between the older woman's spread thighs. "God damn! 
I wish I had my cock in there! She could lick her mama and my prick at the 
same time!" 

He raised on his knees, licking his lips, his big face flushed with racing 
blood. Tenison and Priest were crouched with their faces almost in the split 
rump of the girl as she unconsciously lowered her screamingly orgasming cunt 
to her mother's mouth and lips. 

And Connie, swept up in this rankly beautiful scene, gripped by cunt lust as 
much as her daughter was, closed her eager lips on her baby girl's womanly 
twat, her heart bursting with a wild love untinged by past hatred, sucked on 
Jannie's little cunt hole until she felt the vagina's walls come together. 
She also felt the child's body go rigid with the powerful wave of orgasm, 
and knew that she, too, was ready to burst in liquid fire in her lust-fired 
cunt. 

She was screaming and licking: "OHHHHHH OHHHHHH MY BABY. OHHHH, YOU'RE SO 
GOOOODDD!" And then, after sucking and slurping mouthful after mouthful of 
the warm, slick, clear juice, after another powerful burst of orgasmic 
beauty deep up her own cunt, she crammed her mouth against the barely haired 
asshole above her, screaming: "OH, BABY DOLL! OH, MY BABY! SUCK MAMA AGAIN! 
OHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHH! IT'S TOOOOOO MUUUUUCCCHHHHH! Oh, GOD! TOO MUCH! OH, 
JANNIE DARLING! OH, BABY!" Another hard cum as she felt her pussy seem to 
turn inside out under Jannie's bold young mouth, and she uttered one final 
cry: "OHHHH! EAT ME! OH, JANNIE! AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" 

She was shivering with lust, with the exhausting process of draining herself 
in love's sweet service, and sweat was pouring off her body, just as it was 
pouring along the spread thighs of her daughter. I never realized she was 
this grown up, Connie's mind said, seeing the writhing inner lips, seeing 
how fat and adult the outer lips were, even if they had little or no hair 
this far down. She had forgotten that others were watching, and she jumped 
in fear as a rough hand slashed between her legs, jabbing into the 
tenderness of her spent cunt, and she heard Jannie cry out in pain and 
fright. 

The child was pulled off her mother, her eyes still glazed with lust, her 
face a shining smear of Connie's clear vaginal juices. 

She was wiping the back of one soft hand on her mouth, trying to grin in a 
placating, pleading way, when Harry Tenison spread eagled her on the bed, 
his big cock hard as bone, and kneed his way between her lovely young 
thighs. She was panting, feeling a golden glow of love and warmth inside, 
dazed with the feeling that she and her mother were once again in complete 
harmony, that she was loved, that sex was a family affair. And then all of 
that horrible reality was back, and she could see that dirty, cowardly Roy 
Willard rolling her mother over, thrusting his heavy organ in between her 
mama's lovely, rounded asscheeks. Trying to butt-fuck her? Trying to get it 
into her right little place from the rear? 

And then she was suddenly fucking, and being fucked, and although she hated 
this big boy for raping her, her aroused pussy could not resist the hot and 
lovely stretch of the impersonal cock, the hard, slick friction, the beating 
of hard meat against her inner being, her cervix, her womb, the end of her 
fuck sheath. 

She heard her mother scream, but Harry had captured her mouth, and his long 
tongue was going into her. Just like daddy's. Not as sweet, not as welcome, 
but just as hot-making. Even the thought of her mother being raped alongside 
her, even the thought that there was a third boy here, who also had a 
hard-on, and who also expected to work it off in her warm little body, only 
added to her fire. 

She was in another world, a world where her pussy was being delightfully 
pounded by a rapist. The very thought made her hotter. She fucked as hard 
against Harry as she ever had against her father. She was cumming again, a 
big, long echo of the orgasm she had just enjoyed as her mother sucked her 
out. And as I sucked mama, she thought. One heat builds another. If I didn't 
love mama, I couldn't have cum. If I didn't love daddy, I couldn't cum with 
him, either. 

Her tight, squeaky young pussy, its slick muscles wrapped so thoroughly 
around this strange dick, made a liar out of her. She did not love this boy 
who was raping her. But her pussy, her ovaries, the nerves in her vagina and 
in her red inner lips, and all that myriad of nerves in her clit, they were 
unaffected by her likes and dislikes. They liked what was happening. They 
liked the sloppy rasp, the burning plunge as the boy's cock lanced into her. 

"AAAIIIIIIEEEEE!!" she screamed, humping against the belly above her, 
blindly answering a demand laid on her by her own nerves and hotly craving 
flesh and the thundering tom-tom of her heartbeats. "OH 
FUCKY-FUCKY-FUCKY-FUCK! OH COCK, FUCK, CUNT, COCK, FUCK! OH FUCK ME, BABY! 
FUCK ME, BABY! OH MAMA! OH MAMA! HE'S FUCKING ME! FUCK HIM, MAMA! FUCK US 
ALLLLLL! OHHHHHH! AAAAIIIIEEEE!" 

And she continued to sob and moan as the long orgasm ran down, as Harry's 
slow moving, thick, sticky jism pumped out of her as he kept fucking, long 
after his load was gone. 

He would not look her in the eye as he pushed himself, up. She wanted him to 
say: "I love you, Jannie! Don't be afraid, baby! It's all just a big, scary 
joke, you dig?" But he said nothing, only kept his face turned from her as 
he got up, held his dick aimlessly, and said to a grinning Sammy Priest-and 
why did he have those bandages on his shoulder-said to him: "Okay, Sammy 
baby! She's all yours. And man, is she tight! Only thing is," and Jannie 
stared at him, trying to stifle hysterical laughter as he scratched his 
head, "she sure as hell surprised me! No maidenhead." 

And, as the girl rolled on her side to get away from the hateful sight of 
the two boys laughing at her, she had to close her eyes. 

Her mother had been picked up, or braced up by Roy. Or she had gotten into 
this position herself. On her knees, her head on folded forearms on the mat. 
And Roy was slashing into her mother's lovely body with his cock, either in 
her pussy or in that other little hole. And her mother was screaming, too: 
"OH BABY! TICKLE MY CLIT! FUCK ME, ROY!" And then, after a gasping, wordless 
yell: "SOMEBODY! PLEASE! GRAB MY TITTIES! OH, GOD, PLEASE FUCK ME!" 

It should have made her sick, but all at once there was a rush of moist heat 
inside her, and she was on the brink of another cum. 

 Chapter Ten 

After she came with Roy Willard, and got up shakily, with his big load of 
pearly white semen oozing out of her pussy and down the inner surfaces of 
her thighs, Connie Haire dazedly wandered over to the big couch, or table. 
The boys, happy in their fun, had all the lights on, and Connie, seeing a 
stranger in a big wall mirror, was startled. 

This was another naked woman, but her hair was matted in damp strands, her 
breasts were bloated as if they had been beaten, and her bush of pubic hairs 
was dark and slickly plastered down on her delta, shining with some sort of 
sticky wetness. 

The woman had dark shadows under her eyes, and her mouth was slack, like 
some moronic chick who was soliciting any passer-by for sexual release. Her 
eyes were large and bright, but unseeing, as if she stared inward, seeing 
nothing but a prick she wanted but could not have. 

As she moved toward this strange woman, pitying her, Connie raised a hand. 
And so did the woman. And then Connie realized, with a rush of stark and 
painful knowledge, who the woman was. And knew that she, like "the church 
lady from Ransome City," was very close to being tapped out by repeated 
sexing. That such a thing could happen. That a woman had to have at least a 
few minutes rest between fucks and sucks. Else she could go fuck-nutty, lose 
all sense, and never recover from it. She whimpered, glad that none of the 
boys were after her, not realizing that the more tempting flesh of her 
little daughter was whipping up their sodden appetites. 

She stared dumbly at the eight by ten glossies tacked to the board above the 
leather upholstered table. And, as she started, she felt a flutter of 
deep-rooted fear. She knew these girls. She had only noted their cute, 
sweet, sexy-looking butts, with their fat and swollen little pussies 
protruding from between softly sculptured ass cheeks. But their faces were 
reflected in a mirror, the one above the line of pictures. God, did she know 
them! Kids from good families. Older women, too. And some of them looked 
complacent, smiling, triumphant. And others looked as beaten, as unhappy, as 
woebegone as herself. That young teacher, for one. 

She started to whirl around as she heard a step behind her, and felt a 
stinging slap on the side of her head. It was young Willard again, and he 
had a camera in his hands, a complicated looking box with a huge lens and a 
strobe flash. 

"Bend over," he growled. "Bend over, God damn it, before I jerk your cunt 
hairs out!" And then as Connie, physical pain and mental despair, leaned on 
the leather couch, he said: "Now, see how easy that is? Try to shove out 
that cunt a little bit more! Ah, lovely! This'll be a marvelous addition to 
our little gallery!" 

She dropped her face into her hands, trembling in helplessness and anger, 
and he said: "Let's get a nice crotch shot, now, old lady! Get up on that 
table. Move, damn it!" 

Helpless to avoid whatever the snarling young bully wanted, Connie let him 
put his big hands into her armpits and help her up to the surface of the 
table, or couch. 

Without protest, she let him arrange her legs, feet up, too, with her heels 
just against her softly structured buttocks, her big, smooth thighs, now 
marked with drying jism, spread apart. 

As he arranged her, one of her big, warm breasts brushed his face, and he 
took a painful nip at the hard, grainy tip of the tit. 

"If old Tenison wasn't so scared of me marking you up, you lousy old bitch, 
I'd bite my initials in both your tits! You can't piss in my face and get 
away with it." 

She braced her hands behind her, and felt an object she had seen a minute or 
two before, and had recognized. It was an iron dumbbell, probably ten pounds 
in weight. She gave it little thought just then, and waited in her tortured 
position as the boy stepped back to focus the camera. 

Over his shoulder, she saw big Harry Tenison with Janice in his arms, but he 
was holding her from behind, his big forearms and hands locked under the 
child's tender breasts. In his strength, he was lifting her off the ground, 
so that she was helpless, her lovely legs waving like the frantic efforts of 
a beetle turned on its back. Worse, the jeering Sammy Priest was pulling the 
young girl's legs apart, trying to get his big, stiff cock into her as Harry 
held her in the air. 

"Hold her steady, Tenison," the big fellow grunted. "AHHHH! BABY! That's 
it!" He lunged forward, his tool going only part way in, and little Jannie 
cried: "NO! NO! OH, HARRY, DON'T LET HIM! OHHHHH!" 

And then Connie saw, with a heart full of disgust and misery, that the 
child's body had taken over, and that, no matter how Jannie felt, her cunt 
was rippling its young, slithery inner muscles around the despised cock, 
fucking back as well as she could, while her two tormentors enjoyed her 
plight, her helplessness, her response. 

The strobe flash went off just as Connie tried to hide her eyes, and Roy, 
looking over his shoulder and laughing, turned back to her, his mingled 
anger and sexuality in his face. 

"You fucked up my picture, bitch," he said in a mock-angry tone. "I ought to 
ram this flash up your twat, but I'll get another picture, first. Man, this 
is creative time!" 

He turned back to the trio near the pile of mats, and said: "Hey, I've got a 
great idea." He turned back to Connie. "Take a break, model," he said. "Go 
to the can if you want to. But remember, old lady, no use trying to lock 
yourself in. This bathroom door works only from outside. Get it? Nice touch, 
makes it more fun when the chickies try to hide from us." His laugh was 
sick, and Connie, her legs aching from the strained position, let her feet 
hang down. 

She was so beaten, so filled with anguish and fear of what could happen, 
that she let her head sink on her chest. If she heard the "idea" that Roy 
advanced, she didn't register it. 

But she heard a scream of protest from Janice, and she jerked her gaze up to 
a sight that froze her. 

Sammy Priest had moved, taken his cock out of the tight little pussy, and 
was in front of Janice. The girl was being made to bend over, and she was 
holding on to Sammy's organ, her mouth open. And Harry, his hard face 
working in passion and a sort of rotten glee, was squeezing something out of 
a tube on to the broad head of his big cock, something that gleamed in 
viscous wetness. 

"Suck that cock, angel," Sam said. "Old Willard wants a nice picture of you 
to hang up in the school locker room. Ought to get you a lot of dates. Suck, 
damn you! Suck me like you did your old lady!" He looked across the young 
girl's bent back, winking at Roy. 

At once, Harry got his hands around the girl's thighs and began jamming his 
hard cock into the sensitive crack of Janice's ass. 

"That's it, man!" young Willard exclaimed. "Get it in her ass, about halfway 
in. And listen, Priest, be sure her face is toward me, see? I can't watch 
the details, man! Old artistic Willard has to watch the composition." 

In her efforts to recoil, Connie turned away, and once more, her hand 
touched the big iron dumbbell. 

She heard Jannie scream again, and heard the scream turn into a choked 
gurgle. Looking up, she saw that Harry had gotten into the young girl's 
rectum, and that the brutal Priest boy had jammed his cock into her throat. 
The faces of all the boys were twisted in grins of mean delight, and Connie 
could see tears running down her daughter's cheeks as the child sagged 
against the big organ stuck into her tight little asshole. 

Some animal combination of fear and rage seemed to yeast up in Connie's 
throat. She slid silently down from the table, dragging the heavy iron 
exercising piece with her right hand. 

There were three of them, but she knew what she meant to do. Roy had backed 
toward her, his eye glued to the camera's view finder. He had bent his legs 
to get the scene right, and his big balls were hanging between his legs. 

With her left hand, Connie grabbed them, squeezed down with all her 
strength, and twisted them as if she were trying to pull them off his body. 

The pain was so terrible that Roy could neither move nor scream, at least 
for the moment, and, as he dropped writhing to the deck, the woman swung the 
iron dumbbell with all her might and threw it at Tenison. She remembered a 
butchy old Phys Ed teacher in college who had often cursed at her classes 
when they weren't putting the effort into their work that the teacher 
expected. 

"Get your ass into it, sweetie!" the hoarse-voiced woman would shout. "Gimme 
some muscle! Get your ass into it!" And Connie tried to do just that as she 
hurled the oddly shaped chunk of iron at Harry's face. 

Alas for good intentions. The dumbbell was too heavy. But it still got far 
enough to do its job. 

Instead of hitting the boy in the face, it struck his foot. And, just as she 
released the ungainly missile, Connie shouted: "Bite his cock off, baby! 
Bite him hard!" 

Her meaning and the dumbbell got to where they would do the most good at 
exactly the same time. The big piece of iron lit on Harry's left instep, and 
little Jannie, bursting with feminine outrage at her degradation, chewed 
down on Sammy Priest's hard cock with all her might. At the same time, 
miraculously, the heavy pain, the deep, hard agony of having a big cock 
stuck in her ass for the first time, ceased. Harry had lost all interest. 

He felt the murderous pain shoot up his leg just as he felt something crunch 
and give way in his arch. The terrible agony of it blinded him, and then his 
mind cleared and he saw the dumbbell, saw the naked, panting, wild-eyed 
woman, and knew that she was the author of his horrible pain. 

He started toward her with his fingers spread like talons, but he only made 
one step. As the broken bones grated together in his foot, and as the 
tortured nerves shocked him again with blinding pain, he fell heavily, at 
full length, and struck the side of his head on the cement floor. And he was 
out of it. 

Some deeply primitive surge of triumph made Connie move like a striking 
snake. 

She had the dumbbell in her hands again as she heard Jannie cry out. Young 
Priest, his features twisted in rage, had the girl by her hair. But there 
was a flow of blood dripping down off his cock, suddenly softened by Jan's 
vicious bite, and his face was as white as a freckled towel. 

Like a mother cougar, Connie sprang to the pile of mats, where Sam was 
dragging the girl, and gave him a hard crack across the side of his head. It 
did not knock him out, but he dropped to his knees, his eyes fixed on some 
vision of pain. She eyed him thoughtfully, then gave him another crack on 
the other side, and this dropped him to the mats. 

She held Jannie for a moment, her eyes filled with tears, her hand holding 
the girl's head while sobs wracked the young frame. 

She saw young Willard roll to his side and try to get up, and she jumped 
nimbly down and ran to him. 

He had his hands spread and braced on the floor, and she very deliberately 
used the dumbbell as a hammer, crunching the boy's fingers under its weight, 
grinning as he screamed like a hurt child. 

"God DAMN!" he cried. "What are you trying to DO? KILL ME? Damn you anyhow, 
you stinking old bitch!" 

In reply, Connie laid the dumbbell down and swung her open hand at the big 
boy's face, a full-arm swing, so that her palm smacked across his eyes and 
nose with a report like a rifle. She swung again, and again, and the big 
kid, unable to protect himself, felt blood start from his nose and lips, 
felt his teeth move under the hard shock of blow after blow, and cried, in 
his pain: "Enough! Enough! Please! PLEASE, Miz Haire! Not anymore! OHHHHH! 
OHHHHH! PLEASE DON'T HIT ME!" 

She stood up, woman triumphant. Her hair was in dirty-looking strands from 
sweat, from being rolled on the floor and on the mats, and there was a blue 
mark on one breast. Tears had made streaks down her dirty face, and her 
lips, like young Willard's were sore and puffy. But she had never felt 
better in her life. Even the black pain in her bruised rectum, where one of 
these louts-which one she didn't even know-had butt-fucked her, even the 
blacker pain in heart and mind over what they had done to Jannie, seemed 
lighter. 

The child, so beautiful in her youthful nakedness, stood in a graceful 
posture over the fallen Priest boy, and, as Connie looked, she gave him a 
resounding kick in his exposed flanks. "I wish I'd chewed your dick off," 
she said furiously, and Connie, her heart leaping, cried: "Atta girl, baby! 
This'll teach these cruds they can't fuck around with the Haire women!" 

She walked over to where Harry was beginning to stir, and deliberately 
stepped on his fingers. She was barefoot, but she put her full 
hundred-and-twenty pounds on her heel, and the sudden pain brought the big 
boy back to consciousness. When he was able to sit up, he eyed Connie dully, 
the pain in his broken foot acting as a sort of narcotic to his thinking. 

She turned to little Jannie and asked: "How are fixed? Do you have to take a 
pee for yourself?" 

When the puzzled child shook her head, smiling, Connie said: "Oh, all right. 
I wanted you to squat down and piss in Mister Priest's ugly face. Sure you 
can't wring out a drop?" 

"No, mama," the girl said with some dignity. "And I don't think I should." 
She shuddered delicately. "These guys were only, well, doing their thing. Of 
course," she said hurriedly, as Connie bent a powerful look in her 
direction, "I think YOUR thing was beautiful. Guys oughtn't to rape women." 
She giggled. "The silly fools! If they only knew how many girls want it." 

Connie leaned down and picked up the camera. She had seen where Roy had 
picked it up. There were five or six different kinds on a shelf, with 
various equipment. 

She walked over to Roy Willard, who was leaning on his one good hand, his 
face gray with pain. His balls looked swollen; it would be a long time 
before he tried to rape any woman again. She nudged him carelessly with her 
foot. "Where are the other cameras?" she asked, her face stony. 

When he gasped: "That's all of them. Honest, Miz Haire! Honest!" Connie 
laughed. 

"It's not 'you dirty old bitch' any more, Roy, dear," she cooed. "How come 
you're so sweet and polite, all of a sudden? How come you don't want to slap 
me around, and piss on me anymore? Why, baby?" She swung the camera on its 
short carrying strap, and he dodged as it came near his nose. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled through puffed and bleeding lips. "It was 
lousy. What more can I say? Gimme a break, will you? I'm hurt so bad, now, 
that I can't play football anymore." He tried to move his fingers, and 
groaned. "I'm the quarterback, can you see me trying to pass a football? 
What do you want, blood?" 

She slapped him across the nose again, as hard as she could. 

"You're fucking well right, Willard," she said harshly. "Blood. And just a 
wee bit of piss. From you, hear." 

She felt a tug at her elbow and looked around to see Janice, her heart 
shaped face an angry mask. 

"Did this-this nerd-actually make peepee on you, mom?" the girl asked. Her 
voice was shaking. "Did he? Oh, the goddamn rat!" 

"He damn sure did, baby," Connie answered calmly. "Several times. While you 
were being picked up by your hero. The three of them were raping me, trying 
to drive me bananas, and I pissed in his face. A real proud man like old 
Willard, here," and she gave him a nudge with her foot, "he couldn't stand 
for that! So he pissed all over me. As often as he could." 

"And Sammy let him?" Jannie asked, her voice trembling. 

"He loved it," Connie said shortly. "Why?" 

The girl, tears streaming down her face, jumped up on the mats. 

"Because I'm going to give him a belly full of it," she answered stormily. 

"Hold it, sweetie," Connie said, and stepped over to the camera shelf. 
"There's one of those new Polaroid's here. Ah, filled with film, too. Let me 
get around where we can get a good shot of it." She moved the camera up and 
down. "I've got it," she said. And, as the girl, her young legs spread, shot 
a scalding yellow stream of her maidenly wee wee into Priest's face, she 
banged the shutter and laughed. "Now, you, Roy, my dear. You're going to get 
it again. And if you so much as touch my girl, I'll beat your evil brains 
out of your ugly head." 

The big kid began to cry. Like a baby. "I can't stand it, Miz Haire," he 
cried. "If you killed me, I couldn't stand it." 

They heard the thick voice of Harry Tenison. "Don't be a cry-baby, Willard," 
he said. "You thought it was a great idea to piss on her." 

He groaned and spat on the floor. "We're all through, baby," he said. "We 
carried the pitcher to the well once too often. We had a little too much 
luck with our fucking." 

He moved slightly, and Connie swung the camera toward him. "If you have' 
some idea of grabbing me, Harry baby," she said through her teeth, "think 
again. I'm going to smash all your cameras. Except this darling Polaroid. 
I'd just as soon smash this one on your teeth." 

The big kid groaned. "Okay. You've got us. Do something for Priest, will 
you? He could bleed to death. What'd you do? Hit him in the head with that 
mace?" He shivered. "He's hurt." 

"All right," she said. "Get him into the bathroom. Go on!" she cried. "Move 
it! You and Willard! Run some water on his cock and tie a band aid around 
it." 

She got her camera, the Polaroid, ready as Willard, crawling, and Harry, 
inching along on his hip, got to Sammy and began examining his injured 
prick. They both jumped as the little camera clicked, and Connie laughed. 
"Poor babies," she said. "What a sweet picture of brotherly affection this 
will be to post on the girls' locker room wall. And for the coach to get 
through the mail! I don't think that Mister Whatshisname, the kind gentleman 
who set you jocks up in this rape trap, is going to like what happens to 
him, either." She set the Polaroid down and began to beat the expensive 
cameras on the cement floor, kicking their shattered debris away from her as 
the three boys, one of them barely conscious, began to move toward the 
bathroom. 

She slammed the door on them and turned the latch. "Remember, Roy, baby," 
she called jeeringly, "the door only opens from the outside. I'm calling the 
chief of police to come get you guys out. So don't worry. He'll know you 
boys are real friends. One of those kids in your ass-photos is his 
daughter." 

There was a weak cry of protest, and one of the boys hammered on the heavy 
door briefly. Then she heard Harry's voice, angry and commanding. "Shut up, 
you jerks! We're dead in this town, anyhow. Nobody in this burg would piss 
on us, after all this gets out." 

From little Janice's sweet mouth there came a sweet ripple of laughter. "I 
would, Harry baby," she said. "I'd be glad to piss on you. Any old time." 

The big, tough Tenison kid raised his voice one more time. "I hope this 
makes you feel good, Miz Haire. You've done us more harm than we did you. 
You'll get over it. You know you will! You really liked me, this afternoon. 
And Jannie liked me. Honest to God, I don't think we deserve all this. 
You'll get over it, and Jannie'll get over it. But we're done, all done!" 
There was, actually, a sob in his deep voice. 

Connie spoke clearly, laughingly. "Remember what you told me, Harry baby? 
When I said it was very naughty of you to make me and my body available to 
all your pals? Remember? Tough shit, Harry! Listen, I'll put all your 
clothes in the trunk of that car out there. Don't bother, I'll find the 
keys! And tell your benefactor that he's in for the same kind of trouble 
you're in for. Only more. You guys are lucky. You're minors. He's not." 

They heard a weak clamor of pleading voices. 

"Sorry to be so tough, dolly," Connie said to Jan. "They were just doing 
their thing, as you say. But that's also true of murderers. They just do 
their thing." 

 Chapter Eleven 

Before Connie called the police chief, she called Dick. 

He was surprised to hear from her, he said, and sounded even more surprised 
when she told him she and Janice were together. 

"Yeah, I know," Connie said drily. "I'm surprised, too. But we're okay. Just 
don't hurry home for dinner. Or bring home whatever you feel like eating. 
Bring a lot," she added, grinning at Jan. "We've been busy, and we're 
hungry. Hear?" 

On the way home, Jan sat more toward the door than toward her mother. It 
touched Connie's heart. 

"I know it's been tough on you, baby," she said, putting her hand on the 
girl's thigh. "Those young pricks sort of made me mad." 

Janice giggled, but tears were in her eyes. "I've been such a fool," she 
said in a quiet voice. "How long have you known about me and dad?" 

Connie thought. "Crazy," she said. "This is usually my big shopping day, 
isn't it? I had been shopping on that day. Three weeks to the day. But it's 
all right. I feel different about you. I don't blame you. And I don't blame 
Dick. He's a natural man, and what you two did was natural." 

Janice made a sound like a hard sob. "You knew we were at the office?" she 
gasped. 

"No. I saw you at home. In your room. I got back early." 

Janice touched her mother's arm haltingly. "We hadn't done anything, uh, 
anything real, then," she said. "He was just trying to help me. To keep me 
from being scared." 

After she had told it all, every bit of it, including Dick's decision that 
it was all over, the young girl sat with her head down, trembling all over, 
while hot, bitter tears ran down her cheeks. She made no effort to hide or 
restrain them, and her sad little face cut Connie like a knife. 

"Baby," she said brokenly, reaching for her daughter, "I meant it when I 
said it wasn't wrong. Maybe I didn't mean it too much, not then. I really 
mean it now! Come here, baby!" 

She held the girl against her after she had parked, very near to the spot 
where she had been with Harry, only a couple of hours before. A couple of 
hours? It had been a lifetime. A nightmare. But the terrible reality was 
over. As the mother held her daughter, she was aware, suddenly, of how much 
of a woman her little girl had become. 

"Hey," she said, squeezing one of Jannie's big, warm breasts. "These are 
great! Like mother, like daughter, right? Gosh, honey, if I were a guy, I'd 
go for you, myself." In fun, she ran her hand down, between the child's 
opulently formed thighs, which opened naturally enough to let her mother's 
hand go right in. Right against the lightly haired young pussy. Warm and 
soft. And wet, too. But not from one of those guys' jism. That had been 
cleaned away. This was girl juice. Jannie's. Sweet, hot, clear, slick. It 
made Connie shudder. But it was the girl who spoke up. 

"Mama," the girl said, her face crimson, "when those guys made us do-well, 
what we did-to each other, you know what I mean," and she hid her face in 
Connie's breasts, "was that-all right?" 

Connie held the girl and started to speak, but her tongue was suddenly hard, 
and her breath came too fast. Also, she had not moved the left hand, which 
was in the warmth and slickness of the girlish cunt. "Uhh, of course," she 
said. "They made us do it. Forced us. We can't be blamed. Sure, it was all 
right." 

The girl clung to Connie, her young loins making a definite fucking motion 
against her parent's hand. Connie could have sworn the child was trying to 
suck on her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress. "I didn't mean it 
that way, mama," Janice said in a whisper. "I mean, did I do it all right? 
Was it all right for you?" She turned her tear stained face up to Connie. 
Her look was radiant and full of a sort of mischievous, girl-to-girl love. 
"Did I do it right for you? Because," and she dropped her face again to the 
warm slopes of Connie's big, soft breasts, "it sure was wonderful for me! 
What you did, I mean." 

There was a long silence in the car, and Connie heard her own breath rasping 
as both her breathing and her heartbeats ran wild. Her fingers were 
definitely inside the young girl's tender, sensitive twat, and she felt a 
rage of heat go through her own loins as the girl, beginning to fuck herself 
up on her mother's fingers, squeezed the woman's breasts as hard as she 
could. She was moaning, too: "OHHHH! OH, MAMA, MAMA, MAMA! I LOVE YOU SO! 
OHHHHH! IT'S SO WONDERFUL! OH, PLEASE, MAMA! OHHHH! DON'T STOP! OHHHHH!" 

The way the child was flinging her body straight on to the fingers which 
delicately probed into her slick, juicy fuck tube was the most exciting 
thing that had happened to Connie in all of this wild day. Somehow, the girl 
got her head back, her mouth open and her eyes closed, and the two women 
were kissing, kissing, kissing, with all of their heat and all of their love 
in the muscular, wet thrust of their tongues. 

When the child's body suddenly went limp, Connie realized that she was wet 
with sweat, and she held Jannie to her with all her tender strength as the 
child's breathing gradually came back to normal. 

They drew apart and looked at each other with both faces softened by love 
and understanding. 

"My dear," Connie whispered softly, "oh, my very, very dear! I'm so glad you 
asked me-what was it you asked me?" And then she laughed. "I remember, you 
silly. You asked me if what you did was 'all right' for me. Oh, baby! It was 
the all rightest thing that ever happened. And to think, we were doing it 
with those awful boys making us do it, looking on like dirty, fucky old 
hound dogs. Were you scared?" 

The big-breasted child settled against the solid warmth of her mother's 
beautiful body. "Yes, I was," she said. "I was scared to death. I never did 
anything like that before. And I thought it would make you mad at me." She 
looked up at her mother worshipfully. Her warm breath made Connie's billowy 
titties, their nipples straining against her dress, feel as if they would 
burst with heat and love. 

She said softly: "I almost wish we could just park here, get in the back 
seat, and make love to each other. Now that we've found we can, now that 
we've found how beautiful it is. But I guess we've got to get home. For now, 
at least." 

Little Jannie moved back primly and began to straighten her dress, pulling 
her short skirt farther down over her firm, youthfully beautiful thighs. Her 
voice was soft. Does that mean there's going to be a, uh, another time?" she 
asked. "The way you said we had to skip it 'for now, at least.' " 

Her heart warmed at Connie's slow, loving smile, and she flung her strong, 
warm young body on her mother. "Oh, mother," she cried, "I love you so! I 
love you so!" 

They kissed again, and then Connie turned the car around and headed home. 
Janice lay with her head in her mother's warm lap. She had known that the 
smells of sex, the aroma of her own hot little cunt, the rankly lovely 
scents from her dad's big, throbbing cock were marvelously exciting. Now, 
with the perfume from her mother's wonderful pussy swirling around her, she 
knew why animals would follow the odors of a female in heat over miles of 
tough terrain. Just to get a closer smell. Just to get a lick or two at the 
marvelous, compelling cunt, so swollen with desire. 

She made a nestling move with her shoulders, and her mother took one hand 
off the wheel to insert a soft hand into the scoop neck of Jannie's dress. 

The child moved again, and used one of her hands to push one of her large, 
warmly responsive titties into Connie's hand. It felt so good! Better, in 
some ways, than a guy's hand. Mary McCarty's hand had felt like that. And 
Betsy Blair's. 

She squirmed, remembering that party, which had started it all. Maybe she 
and Mary could be good friends again. Girls had to have someone to fall back 
on, in times when there weren't any guys around. 

 Chapter Twelve 

Dick Haire had to face a dilemma. There was something going on that he 
didn't know about, and it made him restless. 

For example, when he had gotten home, bringing an armload of hamburgers and 
fries, of ribs and crisply fried chicken, of Cokes and shakes, both Connie 
and little Jannie had ceremonially kissed him. Brother, had they kissed him! 
He had been panting after Connie's hard, tonguing kiss, and was so bemused 
that he let the young girl swing against his body-against his cock, if you 
come right down to it-while she locked her soft arms around his neck and 
gave him what felt like a yard of her tongue. 

Shit! was everybody going crazy? Connie had to see that this was no ordinary 
father and daughter smooch, but hot, loverly swapping of spit that any 
parent would gag at. 

He'd had three or four Rob Roy's before he picked up the food. The aromatic 
mixture of Scotch whiskey and Italian vermouth may have deadened his 
olfactory sense slightly. But he could almost swear he both smelled and 
tasted sex. On both of them. The raunchy, heady aromas of lust. Of hot 
pussy. But that had to be imagination. Simply had to be. Some errant memory 
from the wonderful afternoon with Jan. 

One thing he couldn't get away from. He was getting a hard-on. A beauty. It 
was the most amazing thing, to him, how much more interested he was in sex, 
since he and Janice had gotten into their innocently intended affair. 

Thank God, he could look himself in the eye. Like now, when he was brushing 
his teeth, in his white silk pajamas, getting ready for bed. Interested in 
sex! God Almighty! 

"I'll bet I've screwed Connie more, and enjoyed it more, in this last three 
weeks," he whispered to his image in the mirror, than in any three weeks in 
the last ten years." He shook his head, looking at himself with some pride. 
"You old fudd," he addressed himself, "it must be like it says in that 
ad-the more you get, the more you want." 

He was sober for a moment, thinking that it was literally true. A man with 
two lovely, delightful, responsive women to fuck just seemed to draw sexual 
power from it. Especially since one of them was thirteen-almost thirteen, 
anyway-and the other, older, riper, sweeter, somehow, was the perfect "other 
woman." 

His potential hard-on throbbed, and he rubbed it tenderly through the silk. 

"Steady, old friend," he admonished his prick. "You're going to get 
something just as lovely as you did this afternoon." 

The bedroom was dark when he opened the door, and that was sort of odd. 
Connie hadn't seemed all that sleepy. He had never seen her more bright 
eyed, or more full of whatever hot women get full of when they're ripe and 
ready for an evening of sex. 

"Where'd everybody go?" he asked, starting toward the bed. 

"Oh, come on to bed, dear," Connie's familiar voice said softly. "I just 
thought it might be a little surprise to fuck in the dark." 

He thumbed down his pajama bottoms, letting his hardening cock fly up, and 
moved to the bed. "Can you see that, baby?" he asked. "Old Reliable, ready 
for duty!" 

A soft, warm hand came out from under the covers to hold his organ, jacking 
its thick, soft skin back and forth tenderly. The covers were held up, and 
he got a flash of a gorgeous body, just as he eased himself in alongside it. 

Someone smooth and hot and ready turned to him, and he found himself kissing 
a willing, ready female, her tongue going sweetly into his mouth. Soft 
breasts pressed against him, and he moaned happily: "MMMMMM! MMMMMM!" as he 
fucked gently against the strong, sweet body, which hammered against his 
loins. 

He disengaged his mouth and said: "Sweetheart, you're so marvelous! So hot, 
so willing!" 

Connie's voice said: "Thanks ever so much, darling. I love you, too!" 
Connie's voice. But not in his ear. 

His hair almost stood on end as he reached for the light by his bed. When it 
came on, full and strong, he saw that it was Janice, holding his cock, a 
string of clear spit running down her chin and threading its liquid way down 
her breasts. She still held his cock, and was still pumping her hand up and 
down on it. "Mom said it was going to be a surprise, daddy," she said, but 
her young voice was broken, and there were tears in her eyes. 

They both fell on him, then, both the women, the mother and the daughter. 
Connie rubbed her breasts over his face, stroking in his crotch, fondling 
his balls. Kissing him breathlessly, laughing, giving him her tongue. She 
got her legs around one of his, and he felt the warm slickness of her cuntal 
juices as the big, hairy lips divided under pressure, letting the slick, 
tender labia rub on his thigh. 

"OOOOOHHHH! OH, DICKIE!" she moaned, humping herself up and down. "OHHHHH! 
HOW GOOOODDDD! OHHHHHH!" 

He felt warm breath around his crotch, and something very wet and hot and 
moving closed on his balls. He saw a lightly haired little cunt just about 
at a level with his armpit. Jannie! Sucking his balls. He hugged Connie to 
him, rubbing her big, softly firm breasts against him. 

"Somebody's gonna get fucked," he said hoarsely. "What in hell got into you 
two?" A thought swept his mind, leaving him feeling desperately vulnerable. 
"Did you-Connie, did Jannie, uh, wait!" And he twisted his body as Jan got 
her mouth around his cock. "What the hell is this, anyhow?" 

"This is me, baby," Connie answered, her eyes filled with tears. "Your wife, 
remember? And this," putting her hand in the sweet and humid crack of little 
Jannie's ass, "is my daughter. And your loving little doll! And baby," she 
said, taking a couple of seconds to kiss him thoroughly, "we just wanted to 
surprise you. With love!" 

Some saving grace freed him from the chaos in his mind. He held the young 
girl's firm body, craning his neck to kiss her on both sides of her lovely 
young butt. No need to ask any more questions, at least not now. Later, of 
course. What lovely times they would have, all talking at once, all happy, 
all fuck-ready and tingling. 

"I can fuck both of you at once," he said stoutly, jamming a thumb into 
Jannie's bubbling little fuck hole. It was so pink, so warm and slick! "Get 
a pussy stretched over my cock. Get another one spread over my face! 
WOWEEEEE! Quit sucking me, baby! Let's fuck!" 

He pulled the young girl's body back, got her thighs on either side of his 
face, reached up and got a mouthful of tender cunt lip. 

"OH, DADDDEEEE!" the young girl cried. "Mama, the bad man's trying to eat my 
pussy! OHHHHH! WHOOOOEEEE! DADDY, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUUUUMMMMM!" 

Her young ass, the sweetly divided cunt with its pinkly dripping hole 
against his mouth, wriggled in ecstasy, pressed hard on his lips. The 
sweetness, the strongly female savors and flavors, made a streaking thrill 
blend through Dick's delighted body. 

He felt weight, soft, smoothly delightful weight, on his thighs. And then 
there was the hottest, the most wonderful, the slickest and juiciest 
pressure on his cockhead, sliding down, squeezing his dick, and he heard 
Jannie groan: "OH, MAMA! HOLD ME! KISS ME!" 

Through a red mist of fuck heat, as the gorgeous young ass rose momentarily 
from his smeared face, he saw the two of them in a mirror near the 
bed-mother and daughter, big breasts against bigger breasts, their mouths 
open and mashed together. Kissing, loving, forgiving each other, forgiving 
him. 

He felt a surge of pride and love and lust such as he never known before, a 
vast electric ripple of excitement that made his cock swell, made his mouth 
hunger for the delicately delicious split above his face. 

He thrust up as hard as he could, jamming into Connie's dark, slickened 
tightness, feeling the sweet jar as his hard prick struck against her womb. 
Such a woman! 

And, as the young cunt, its thick outer lips peeled back with heat, its 
inner lips thick and wet and shining like the petals of some meaty, exotic 
flower, he sucked on it savagely, delighting in the sharply accelerated 
movement on his lips and tongue. Such a girl! 

He hadn't thought he would cum so soon. It really didn't figure. He wasn't 
fucked out by this afternoon. But it should have taken the hard edge off his 
sexual need. 

But the implications of love and understanding and clean lust in this 
incredible joining cock and cunt, of cunt and mouth, of tit and tit and 
tongue and tongue-well, it must have blown them all clear out of their 
minds. 

As his rush of semen squirted into the clutching tightness of Connie's 
pussy, she jerked her mouth away from Jannie's and began to scream out her 
ripping orgasm: "OH, HEAVENLY DAY! OH, DICK, OH, LOVER BABY! OH, JAN! MY 
DEARS! OHHHHHH! I'M CUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG! CUUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG! AAA 
ARRRRGGGGHHHH! OH, GOD! OH, DARLING!" 

There had been feverish bursts of cuntal squeezing on his tongue for the 
past couple of minutes, a drooling, dribbling flow of young, sweet cuntal 
fluids flooding his mouth, so Dick knew that little Jannie was getting off, 
as hard as her mom. 

They all fell in a writhing heap of sated flesh, lying all together, all 
loving, all kissing, all feeling. 

And the young girl, her cunt still working softly against her dad's tired 
mouth, thought: Oh, goody! He's got to fuck me next. Fair is fair. And maybe 
mom'll let me eat her cunt again! Joy! I'll get daddy's cum at both ends. 

She reached for her mother, crying. "Oh, mom," she sobbed. "Thank you! Thank 
you, too, daddy! For being so good to me." Her young heart was full. All in 
all, it had been a great day. 


End
