Spanking Mommy
by Duncan Fox
(AB-4022)


Chapter One 

Carla moaned softly. The aluminum cigar tube slid up into her cunt, pressing 
apart the soft folds of slippery pink flesh. Smaller, colder, and harder 
than a man's cock, it still felt fantastic. It felt wonderful to have her 
cunt filled again, even with such a crude imitation of the real thing. Lying 
on her back with her legs spread widely, straining the tendons on the 
insides of her thighs, Carla slid the tube deep into her oozing hole. It 
pressed the end of her cunt, stretching her. Then, slowly, tantalizingly, 
she fucked the tube in and out, in and out. 

Her nerve fibers squirmed in response to the stimulation. She writhed 
sensuously on the big bed. Her head was up on a pillow so she could see her 
reflection in the mirror at the foot of the bed. She tried to ignore the 
lewd sight of the cigar tube going in and out of her twat, but couldn't. She 
couldn't take her eyes off her naked body. At forty, with a teenage son, she 
was as youthfully firm as she had been at his age. But her tits had a mature 
thrust no teenager ever have. Her nipples, dark and long and erect, were 
conical, textured buds that had nursed a baby, fed and nurtured a tiny, 
sucking mouth. 

Carla brushed a lock of jet-black hair off her forehead. She continued to 
move the aluminum cylinder in and out of her ravenous cunt. The folds of her 
gash, glowing petals of rosy flesh, framed her cunt mouth. The substitute 
cock slid smoothly in and out, in and out of her dribbling hole. It had none 
of the ripples and resistance a real cock had. 

God! How fantastic Chuck's cock had been. Just thinking about his big 
beautiful prick and how it had filled her made her cunt contract. It made 
her eyes sting, too. 

"Damn, damn, damn," Carla moaned. "Why'd you have to go and get killed, 
damm!" she asked aloud. 

"Damn it all, Chuck?" In the face of the echoing, lonely silence that was 
her only answer, she retreated to her masturbation. Parting her cuntlips 
carefully with two fingers, she tormented the pearl of her clitoris and 
writhed in the pallid simulation of fucking. 

She found a picture of her son forming in her mind. He looked too much like 
his dead father. Charlie was tall, broad-shouldered, trim-hipped. His hair 
was the same lush brown shade, had the same sexy waviness. When he smiled, 
he looked so much like his father it made Carla's throat knot. 

Made her pussy drool, too, which terrified her. Desperately, she ripped her 
mind away from her son to his father, to memories of how it had been between 
them. 

Frantically, Carla groped for a memory strong enough to blot out the lust 
she felt for her son. She found it in something that had happened on their 
honeymoon. It was something she hadn't thought of in years. Now she clutched 
it-it was one recollection from her marriage that was powerful enough to 
overwhelm everything else. The incident had occurred because she had teased 
her husband of three days until his control had snapped completely. 

Carla whirled giddily into the motel room, swirling her scarf like a banner. 
She was giggling. She was intoxicated, but not drunk, high on wine, and 
excitement, and love. Theatrically, she kicked her feet, sending her 
glittering sandals flying across the room. Chuck slipped the chain on the 
door after hanging out the "Do Not Disturb" sign. 

Carla was aware of Chuck's angry frown. She was aware of his fury, and it 
tickled and pleased her. It was perfect proof of his love for her. He was 
jealous. He was absolutely cock-eyed jealous! "Well, I hope you're pleased," 
Chuck said furiously. 

"Oh, I am, I am!" Carla giggled, deliberately taunting him. 

"You make an absolute fool of yourself tonight." "Oh?" Her eyes were big 
with mock innocence. 

"Behaving like a-a drunken fool with an overweight toy salesman from 
Toledo," Chuck snarled, oblivious of the fact she was teasing him. 

"He's a cutie-pie," Carla giggled. "An absolute cutie-pie." "He's a fat 
slob," Chuck snapped. 

Chuck's jealousy was too rich and enjoyable to let die. His fury gave Carla 
an incredible feeling of power. Why, she could have him on his knees just 
with a snap of her fingers! She discovered his breaking point when she 
ostentatiously tried to recall the fat salesman's room number, then started 
out the door to go see him. 

With a bellow of fury, Chuck's hand clamped down on her slender waist. She 
shrieked as he lifted her into the air. She kicked futilely in Chuck's 
strong grasp, then landed on the king-sized bed with a thunderous WHUMPF! 
"Teach you to be unfaithful, bitch!" Chuck snarled. 

"Chuu-uuck!" Carla yelled as he wrestled her across his lap. She kicked and 
fought, but he was six foot two and all muscle, while she was five foot two, 
and not very strong. 

In seconds she was ludicrously draped face down over his legs. He held her 
there, one strong hand gripping her neck. He was ready to grind his fingers 
painfully into her flesh if she started to get away. Ignoring her kicking 
and struggling, he slipped her dress up, exposed her to the waist. Hooking 
his fingers in her panties, he dragged them down, bared her firm, round ass. 
The panties hobbled her legs, tangled around her slender calves as she 
fought and kicked. 

The first stinging, open-handed smack on one buttcheek cut off her 
complaining and pleading sharply. The second made her jerk convulsively. 
"OWWWOOO!" she wailed, bucking futilely. 

Chuck paused. She hoped that this was all she'd get. Her hopes were crushed 
when he reached across her and grabbed her hairbrush from the bedside table. 

"Nooo, please, Chuck, please!" Carla pleaded. 

"Teach you!" Smack! "To try-" Smack! "To run out-" Smack! "On me!" He 
punctuated his words with blistering slaps with the back of the hairbrush. 
For a few seconds, Carla was frozen and silenced by total shock. Then the 
searing pain in her ass overwhelmed her, and she let out a cry of pain. 

"OWW!" she wailed as tears poured down her cheeks. 

"And on our honeymoon," Chuck went on implacably. "Goddammit, that's just 
too much!" He continued to spank her with the flat side of the hairbrush. 
The ringing slaps echoed back off the walls as he blistered her butt. 

Carla had never felt such excruciating pain in her life! She had never been 
spanked, ever. The polished hardwood hairbrush felt like it Was raising 
welts an the white cheeks of her ass. A blowtorch would probably have hurt 
less. 

Then, astonishingly, there was a-a perverted kind of pleasure building in 
Carla's guts. Her crotch was feeling warm and wet and excited, the way it 
always felt just before Chuck thrust his cock deep into her cunt. 

Under her, she felt a swelling hard knot in Chuck's lap, and knew instantly 
what it was. The feel of his cock burgeoning up against her sent her 
excitement soaring still higher. Every stinging blow of the makeshift paddle 
made her pussy throb and pulse hotly, and made the prick thrusting against 
her stomach push upward more demandingly. 

Crying, moaning, sobbing, wailing, Carla kicked and bucked. Suddenly her 
panties were gone, finally dislodged by her struggles. Her legs sudden 
freedom caught them both unawares. Her next wild kick threw her off Chuck's 
lap. She slammed to the floor with a crash, landing bruisingly on her back. 
With a wail of pain, she dug her heels into the rug and heaved her ass up 
off the floor, and clutched her scorched butt with both hands. Her skirt was 
still up around her waist. Her pussy was thrust forward as if she were 
inviting a fuck. 

While she was still nursing her abused backside. Chuck ripped his pants 
down, exposing his monstrous hard-on. He dropped to his knees between 
Carla's spread legs, then fell forward and rammed his prick into her gaping 
slit. She accepted the thrust and felt a blinding rush of ecstasy from his 
brutal entry into her dripping hole. Her ass smashed down on the rough 
carpet, and the searing pain made her heave her hips up violently. His cock 
was driven still deeper into her snatch by the powerful thrust. 

It was an insane, churning fuck. When her ass touched the floor, it was as 
if red hot spurs were applied to her, and she would buck upward. Chuck 
slammed his prick into her cunt with animal fury, unmindful of either her 
pain or her pleasure. 

It was the greatest fuck Carla had ever experienced. Her clitoris was 
mangled between their crashing loins. The walls of her cunt were ravaged by 
the searing friction of the cock pistoning in her. The pain in her ass was 
the final good that sent her screaming upward to a blistering orgasm. As she 
spasmed and jerked in the throes of her pleasure, she felt her husband 
unloading thick gobs of jizz into her convulsing cunt. 

Carla dug her heels into the carpet, kept her ass up off the floor. Her back 
was arching, straining painfully. When her muscles began to quiver, she 
relaxed. Her ass touched the rug, and instantly she convulsed and heaved up 
again. Her sudden fucking motion rekindled Chuck's excitement. 

He began ramming his cock into her flooded cunt a second time. His cock 
pumped a thick, creamy wave of cum out of her hole. His crotch slammed down 
on her clit, and Carla went roaring up toward a second come. 

Her strength began to give out. Carla heaved up desperately, trying to 
protect her ass. Chuck rolled her to her side. They thrashed together in an 
insane knot. They flailed together in a wild tangle as they screwed with 
total abandon. 

In seconds, Chuck was pouring a second load of jizz into her twitching twat. 
His entire body trembled with the strain. Carla clung to him, her cunt 
milking and massaging his spurting prick as she climaxed. 

Then they were clinging to each other, sweating and panting, stunned by the 
violence of their screwing. 

Clinging to that searing memory, Carla writhed and twisted on the bed and 
pistoned the silvery cigar tube in and out of her dripping slit. Her clit 
squirmed under her determined, rolling thumb. She mangled her mini-cock into 
a ball of fire. In the mirror she watched her feet scrabbling at the bed her 
gaping crotch bounced and heaved. The flushed inner folds of her pussy 
gleamed wetly around the pistoning tube. Her cunt bush was tight and twisty 
with wetness, her fingers slick with juices. 

Then she was coming. The fireball swelled and swelled, burgeoned in her, 
expanded until it overwhelmed her. It swept before it the last vestiges of 
her civilized being. Her cunt spasmed and spumed around the still-pistoning 
aluminum cylinder. Her eyes closed, Carla arched in the grip of her orgasm, 
moaned, fought to keep her orgasm going as long as she could. 

Inevitably, her come had to fade, just as the one after that blazing 
spanking Chuck had given her so long ago had faded. Now, as then, she was 
left with a sad hollowness. 

When it was over, Chuck had tenderly lifted her to the bed, and apologized, 
and begged for forgiveness. He promised he would never strike her again. He 
had kept that promise, and neither of them had even mentioned the incident 
again. She had never had the courage to tell him how great it had been for 
her. She had never asked him to do it again, never provoked him again. 

Weary and sad, Carla slid the tube out of her wet cunt and lay quietly on 
the bed for a few minutes, trying to ignore the hollowness in her guts. 
Then, restlessly, she got up. Defiantly nude, she stood in front of the 
mirror and surveyed her trim body. Then she turned and walked out of the 
bedroom, through the empty house. Her bare feet scuffed along the carpeting. 
Cool air touched her intimately, drying the wetness at her crotch. Her 
nipples were still stiff. 

She wondered why she was walking around like this. She had never been a 
nudist. She and Chuck had been quite modest, in fact. Charlie had never seen 
her naked. 

Carla paused in her son's doorway and thought about him. Pensively, she 
gazed at the Utter of clothing and athletic gear, the pictures of sports 
stars, the banners. Hesitantly, she entered his room. She tried to ignore 
the way her heart was pounding. She was violating his privacy, and she knew 
it. Something about being in his room, naked, made her pussy tense up. 
Feeling driven, she walked over to her son's desk. 

Idly, she stirred through the clutter, not sure what she was looking for. A 
picture of a girl caught her eye and she picked it up and studied i 
thoughtfully. Ann Jones, Charlie's current steady. 

There was a teasing lilt to her smile. She was wearing a soft sweater that 
molded gently to her small, immature boobs. A circle pin-symbol of 
virginity? adorned the slope of one titty. 

Carla wondered what Charlie and Ann did on their dates. How far had they 
gone? How much did Charlie know about sex? Carla had no idea what Chuck had 
told Charlie about sex, if anything. 

If Charlie came home at this point, Carla reflected, he'd learn quite a bit. 
The possibility that he might made her shiver. The chance was small, though. 
Still, she should get something on. 

Instead, tingling, feeling strangely wicked, she went over to his closet and 
opened it. A jock strap dangled from a hook on the door. She held it for a 
few moments, studying it. She wrenched her mind away from the organs it 
cupped, and hung it where it had been. Beside it was a rack with four 
neckties and a wide leather belt. She fumbled through the clothes hanging on 
the rod. She wondered again why she was doing this. 

But, deep down in her guts, she knew why. She was horny. That was the only 
word-horny. Sweet, loving, faithful Carla was horny. She was prowling in her 
son's room, naked, after masturbating, because she was still frantically 
horny, desperate for sexual satisfaction. 

Even from her own son? The thought shocked her to the core, but she couldn't 
ignore it. Charlie was, after all, eighteen. He was the spitting image of 
his father. The fact that she was Charlie's mother, had borne him, meant 
nothing to her, did nothing to quench her aching sexual frustration. 

But, God, what would happen if he came home and found her like this? He'd be 
devastated, alienated. It would rip the two of them apart, would demolish 
what was left of the family. Charlie was just a kid, psychologically. To 
find his mother naked in his room, probing into his private belongings would 
destroy his faith in her, and shatter him emotionally, destroy their 
relationship. 

Carla was just about to turn away from the closet when a brown envelope 
behind a suitcase on the floor caught her eye. Nervously, wondering if it 
had fallen there by accident, she took it out. 

The foreign postmark, Denmark, puzzled her. It felt as if there was a 
magazine inside. Her hands shaking, Carla pulled it from the envelope. 

Her head swam giddily for a moment as she studied the garish cover. All her 
questions about Charlie's innocence were answered instantly. What did her 
son know about sex? Everything. On the cover, in full color, were a man and 
a woman. Both were naked. The man had a titanic hard-on. The woman was 
spreading the hairy lips of her pussy, exposing the gleaming, flushed petals 
of her inner folds. 

Her hands shaking, her insides boiling, Carla began to leaf through the 
porno magazine. Page after page swam before her eyes. Page after page of men 
and women tangled in intercourse. The pictures were incredibly detailed, 
showed hard, gleaming cocks plumbing wet, slippery cunts. 

The speed at which Carla flipped through the magazine slowed. She began 
studying the pictures more and more closely. Every sexual position was 
shown-man on top, woman on top, side by side... There, were even a few 
gymnastic ones that didn't seem possible. There were two pages of 
cocksucking and cunt-lapping. She and Chuck had tried oral sex once, 
unsuccessfully. The sight of a pretty young girl with a monster cock in her 
mouth made Carla's own mouth water. The picture of a man's tongue probing a 
girl's cunt bush, spearing the pearl of her clitoris, made Carla's pussy 
itch. 

Carla turned the page and blinked in surprise. The girl was on her knees, 
leaning over a bed. Between her thighs the dusky lips of her cunt were 
visible. The girl was reaching back, spreading the cheeks of her ass to 
reveal the dark pucker of her bung. And the man was aiming the bulbous knob 
of his prick straight at the bud like tart. 

The next picture showed the head of the man's cock nuzzling the tight 
brownie. In the next, he was penetrating the little asshole, prying the 
opening wide, so that it was pale and stretched. Then, the shaft of his cock 
was half swallowed up by the girl's asshole. The final picture, taken from 
near the floor, looked up between the man's legs, and showed just the base 
of his cock, all that was outside the girl's ass. 

Carla glanced at the expression on the girl's face. She was obviously 
enjoying the buggering. 

Carla's whole body knotted with sexual hunger she studied the gross 
photograph. Her ass itched, her pussy itched, her insides crawled with lust. 
Her hands shaking violently, she shoved the magazine back in the envelope 
and thrust it back into its hiding place. Blindly, slamming the closet door 
behind her, bouncing off the door frame, she staggered out of Charlie's 
room. 

Once back in her own bedroom, she grabbed the cigar tube, and stared at it. 
It was insane, but she had to try it, she just had to. Something was driving 
her on. Her aching, crazy horniness had been increased by the pornographic 
magazine. Holding the blunt-ended instrument, she studied it as if she were 
contemplating suicide. 

It looked too cold and hard. Biting her lower lip, carrying the deadly tool 
before her like a religious totem, Carla went into the bathroom. She 
uncapped the shaft, filled it with blood-warm water, and recapped it. Now 
the instrument had weight and warmth, and seemed almost alive. Then she 
found the cold cream, and with two fingers smeared the white paste down from 
the blunt rounded end of the cigar tube. The warmth of the water softened 
the cold cream. It formed a sleek, oily, fragrant film on the shining 
aluminum. 

Her entire body tensed like the strings of a harp, Carla went back to the 
bedroom. Crawling up on the bed, she stretched out on her back. Her feet 
were toward the mirror again. She spread her legs like a frog's, strained to 
expose her crotch, and her ass. Then she eased a pillow under her hips. With 
one pillow under her head, the other under her hips, she was bent in a 
shallow "U", and could see the crack of her ass with little difficulty. 

She spread her asscheeks with her fingers of her left hand. There it was-the 
dark pucker of her bung! Her hand shook, making the blunt head of the tube 
waggle wildly as she brought it near the target. She steadied the warm metal 
with the fingers of her left hand, guided it to the crater of her brownie. 

The first delicate touch sent a jolt through Carla, made her whole body 
jerk. Just that faint, barely perceptible touch felt fantastic. Then she 
began to press, began to slowly drive the cigar tube into her bung. It 
wedged the muscle open a little at a time. Every millimeter of dilation 
increased her pleasure. 

Her mouth wide with excitement, Carla slowly buggered herself with the metal 
cylinder. When her asshole was embracing the shaft of the tool, she drove it 
up into her bowels. The greasy metal slid smoothly and excitingly up into 
her butt. Watching in the mirror, she thrust the cigar tube up into her gut. 

A soft moan startled her. She froze, then relaxed, realizing it was herself 
she had heard. She giggled with relief, and felt it clear down in her guts, 
where the hard shaft was spearing her asshole. 

The sensation made her whimper with lust. Her bung spasmed around the brutal 
invader. She was almost crazy with excitement. 

"Oh, God, Chuck, why didn't we ever try this?" she asked her gross 
reflection. It looked as if the cigar tube was cut off, the way her asshole 
clenched around it. Her pussy, black-furred, pink-hearted, glared at her in 
the mirror. She drove one thumb deep into her streaming twat, and felt her 
already exquisite pleasure increase. She tortured her clit, and writhed 
madly in the grip of her pleasure. 

She slid the tube in and out of her butt, loving the feel of the changing, 
shifting pressure deep inside her. The smoothness of the tube meant there 
was almost no friction with the ring of her asshole which she knew somehow 
was a loss. She pistoned her thumb in her snatch in pallid simulation of a 
cock. 

But it was good. The dual penetration was driving her upwards in an endless 
series of waves, lifting her to a glittering peak. Closing her eyes, she 
tried to imagine Chuck was driving his cock into her butt. Her son's 
features kept intruding, until she was unable to resist his image any 
longer, and accepted it. 

It didn't matter. All that mattered was the pleasure, the growing, swelling 
tidal wave of pleasure. It would sweep everything else away, the regrets, 
the loneliness, the fears, the sorrows. She pistoned the tube faster and 
faster in her asshole. Her thumb stirred the juices in her cunt to a foam. 
She was approaching the glittering apex. Then she was tumbling down the 
other side in a welter of pleasure and uncoordinated motions. She was left 
quivering helplessly in the muscle-wrenching convulsions of her orgasm. Her 
naked body jerked spastically. She held the cigar tube deep in her ass, her 
thumb deep in her cunt, and milked her orgasm of every mind-blowing drop of 
pleasure. 

Then, with a soft whimper of relief, she let herself relax, eased her grasp 
on the cigar tube. Nature took over and she crapped out the hard piston 
easily. 

For a long time Carla lay there, her legs still spread wide. Her body was 
limp. She felt her juices drying on her pussy. Her asshole was a gentle 
ache. Finally she dragged herself off the bed, staggered to the bathroom. 
She washed her hands, emptied and scrubbed the cigar tube. She didn't want 
to think about what she had just done. She felt too ashamed. 

So, instead, she worried about Charlie. Obviously, he knew more than she, 
did. Which was a shock. She wondered how he had gotten the magazine. Then 
she remembered that about a month earlier, he had become intensely 
interested in getting the mail in from the mailbox each day. She had assumed 
he was waiting for a letter from a girl. 

What mattered more than how he had gotten it, though, was what she should do 
about it. If she said anything, he'd know she had snooped in his room. But, 
how could she not say something? She wrestled desperately with the problem. 
At the same time she was resisting the urge to get the magazine out and look 
at it some more. Strangely, Chuck's death had not really brought Carla and 
Charlie closer together. It had given her the urge to protect Charlie, to 
cling to her remaining family. He, on the other hand, was in the process of 
fighting for his independence. 

Recently, an accommodation of sorts had been reached. Charlie kept her 
informed of his whereabouts, adhered to the liberal curfew. Carla refrained 
from prying into his private life, gave him freedom to come and go as he 
pleased. Outwardly, at least, she trusted him completely. 

Reluctantly, she concluded she could say nothing to him. But, unavoidably, 
she was going to be acutely aware of him as a sexual being. She would have 
to somehow find out just how far he had actually gone. If he got Ann or some 
other girl pregnant, it would be a disaster. Obviously, he had to have an 
outlet for his sexual desires. She would have to help her make sure it was a 
safe outlet. She wondered how she could manage that. She wondered if Eric 
Jameson would have any ideas, or if she could mention it in the first place. 
He had been-attentive since Chuck's death. Eric was a widower. Maybe he was 
having similar problems with his daughter Ellen. 

Unfortunately, Carla thought, it would introduce a note of intimacy to her 
relationship with Eric. And his intentions, politely as he had expressed 
them, hadn't been exactly honorable in the first place. Her rejection of his 
proposition hadn't offended him, but she didn't want to rekindle his hopes. 
That wouldn't be fair to Chuck, after all. 

God, though, it would be good to have a man again. It was getting harder and 
harder to remain faithful to Chuck. 

She would discuss Charlie's problem with Eric, she decided. He would know 
what to do. Then she would have to discourage Eric's advances again. If he 
ever tried to physically press the issue, he would win. He was huge. Carla 
shivered. Her pussy became unexpectedly wet. Resolutely, she put on her robe 
and went out to the living room to see what was on television. She glanced 
at the clock. Charlie should be home soon. 

Chapter Two Ann Jones did nothing to discourage him, so Charlie slid one 
hand over her right titty. The gentle hill of flesh felt excitingly warm and 
soft. He could feel her hard nipple through the soft, clinging cashmere of 
her sleeveless sweater. She wasn't wearing a bra this time. 

His heart began to beat more quickly. He shifted to ease the agony from his 
cramped hard-on. He brushed his thumb over the alert button of her tit, felt 
it twist under, then spring back. His hand engulfed the entire mound of her 
boob. He massaged it, fascinated by its incredible warmth and softness. 

Her hand was hot on his thigh. He felt her fingers move slowly up towards 
his crotch. She scratched one fingernail over the taut denim, across his 
cockhead. The tickling vibrations drove him mad. He felt a hot, stinging 
seeping stain his pants. 

The movie on the drive-in screen went on, unwatched. Charlie wondered what 
to do next. He had no trouble remembering the pictures in the magazine, but 
he had no idea how to get from where he was to where he wanted to be. This 
was as far as he had ever gone. 

His leg was cramped. He shifted it, and banged his knee painfully against 
the steering wheel. Monotonously, he fondled Ann's titty. He couldn't figure 
out how he could get his hand inside her sweater. It buttoned up the back, 
and she was tucked firmly under his arm. He would have to release the 
treasure of her boob and ask her to sit forward in order to do it. 

He felt like he was going to faint as he considered it. Then he felt her 
easing the zipper of his fly down, and thought he was going to die. His cock 
surged up through the open gap, threatened to burst right out of his 
underpants. Then, incredibly, with Ann's help, it did. His tower of hard, 
hot meat speared up through the fly of his underpants, and her diminutive, 
yet strong finger. curled around his rigid shaft. A second wave of searing 
stickiness flooded his cock, overflowed and spilled out. Instead of 
recoiling from his flow with disgust, the girl spread the slippery fluid 
over his blazing rod. Her fingers skated slickly along his overheated flesh. 

He was still stupidly massaging her boob through her soft sweater, not 
having the foggiest notion of 'what to do next. Obviously, she was willing 
to go farther. 

Tentatively, awkwardly, he reached across in front of himself and touched 
her knee. She pushed her thigh firmly against his and spread her legs. He 
moved his fingers up. Her skin was smooth, and soft, and hot. Her skirt 
eased up as he slid his hand up towards her crotch. 

He kept waiting for her to stop him. She didn't. He moved his hand higher 
and higher. He felt her shift under his other arm. She eased her ass forward 
on the seat and slumped down farther. Her head resting on his arm, she 
presented her crotch for his exploration. He couldn't quite believe it was 
happening. He had his hand at least halfway up her thigh, maybe farther. Her 
legs gleamed ghostly white in the darkness. 

It got hotter and more humid the farther up under her skirt he went. Her 
hand was pumping slowly up and down on his prick. She knew exactly what she 
was doing! Jesus! And what if he should come? Christ, he'd get it all over 
her hand. He wanted to warn her, to stop her, but couldn't. Jesus! His 
fingertips touched hair! Under it she was unbelievably hot and humid and 
soft. She didn't have any panties on! Slyly, he explored the forbidden 
territory, touched the springy curls, the incredibly soft, warm, yielding 
flesh. He touched something wet, and pulled back. 

"Yes," Ann groaned softly. Her hand tightened convulsively on his throbbing 
hard-on. Delicately, Charlie touched her again. His fingers slid into a 
warm, wet nook, probed the soft petals of hot, slick flesh. He ran his 
fingers up and down her rippled moist gash. Ann's head rolled on his arm. He 
was mindlessly squeezing her titty, still through the sweater, but was 
hardly aware of what he was doing. 

"In," Ann moaned softly. "In." Hardly believing he had heard her right, he 
obeyed. His fingers seemed to be sucked into her dripping hole. Its longest 
finger plumbed her searing, clinging cunt. It gripped him warmly. Pussy hair 
brushed the rest of his hand. He felt her hips heaving, shifting and 
rolling. Her torso was twisting, making it hard for him to keep his grip on 
her boob. 

"Deeper," Ann whimpered. 

Charlie drove his finger into her cunt as deeply as he could. He felt her 
drenched interior, the rippled walls of her snatch, ease aside as he 
penetrated her wet hole. 

"Ahhh," Ann sighed softly. 

She began pumping her fist on his prick faster, more insistently. The 
slippery wet seeping were a slick paste between her palm and his cock. Her 
fingers pressed the nerve-laden underside of his prick, milked waves of 
juice out of him. He felt his nuts knotting up against his crotch. He wanted 
to tell her to stop before it was too late, but couldn't get the words out. 
He couldn't tell her; It was going to feel so good, better than when he 
jacked himself off. Besides, it was too late. It was too late. He could feel 
it about to happen, it was going to happen. It was beginning to happen. An, 
Christ! It was happening, happening. 

His body was consumed by the flames of his youthfully urgent orgasm. His 
prick lurched and recoiled, pumped thick gouts of creamy rich jizz into the 
air. His balls, his hips, his ass, every muscle in his body, clenched, added 
force to the spurting eruption. Every gooey wad of cum was a high-voltage 
jolt that seared the length of his cock. 

"Yes!" Ann hissed. "Yes! That's it, that's it, that's it!" He didn't know if 
she was talking about his orgasm, or what his hand was doing in her 
fountaining crotch. The walls of her cunt pulsed around his finger. He 
pumped it in and out of her hole with a fucking motion. Her slender legs 
crossed, damped around his hand, pinned it in her moist pussy, then slowly 
relaxed as his prick began to shrink in her grasp. 

Charlie was conscious of the heavy odor of jizz. There was also an 
unfamiliar smell-Ann's cunt juice. He extracted his hand from her twat. He 
was aware of fluids drying cold on his fingers, his pants. Ann's hand had to 
be drenched. 

"I . . . I'm sorry," he mumbled awkwardly. 

"There's . . . uh . . . there're some tissues in the glove compartment." 
"Thanks," Ann replied matter-of-factly, leaning out of the circle of his arm 
to reach for them. She handed him a wad, and then, still sitting up, began 
cleaning her hand. She held it close to her face-it looked almost as if she 
were licking the cum off. But that was impossible. 

Unwilling to lose touch with her completely, Charlie stroked the graceful 
curve of her back. She was sitting on the edge of the seat. His fingers 
bumped over the buttons of her sweater. She threw him a brief, coy, happy 
glance over her shoulder when he began toying with the top one. 

Experimentally, Charlie unbuttoned it. 

Ann kept her back to him' and began squirming sensuously. 

He unbuttoned the next button, and the next, exposing a narrow vee of skin, 
and the line of her spine. He stroked one finger down the vee of flesh. She 
shivered delightedly. Not only was she not upset by what had happened, she 
seemed eager to go still farther. 

He unbuttoned yet another button. Then, almost hurrying, he finished 
quickly. The sweater fell open the full length of Ann's back. There was no 
interruption of the sleek expanse-no bra, no anything. He had never imagined 
a girl's back could be so erotically stimulating. Tenderly, spreading her 
sweater still more, he stroked her smooth skin. His cock began to get hard 
again, and he remembered he hadn't tucked it back in. 

"Let's go somewhere else," Ann suggested, looking straight at him. 

Charlie's heart began hammering. He was sweating badly. "Like where?" "Oh, 
someplace more private," Ann replied. 

"But I don't know any place." "I. . ." "Okay, let's go," Charlie agreed 
nervously. The speaker clattered maddeningly when he unhooked it to replace 
it on the pole. He had the feeling everyone in the drive-in was-starring at 
him. 

"No, don't," Ann ordered, putting a restraining hand on his arm when he 
started to tuck his cock back into his pants. "Leave it out." "B-But someone 
might see," he stammered. 

"I know! Isn't it great?" Charlie wasn't so sure, but decided not to argue. 
It seemed safe enough, it was so dark. And it was exciting. He started the 
car, switched on the parking lights and pulled forward. His eyes met Ann's 
in the rear-view mirror. There was a hot, mischievous sparkle in them. He 
turned towards the exit. 

She slid her sweater down her arms and off, folded it neatly and put it on 
the seat to her right. Charlie's eyes pin balled from the road to the mirror 
to her nude chest. Her titties gleamed in the light from the screen. They 
were gentle mounds with no crease on the underside. Her nipples, on the 
exact apex of each boob, were dark, small, tarp cones. 

He reached the highway and stopped. 

"That way," Ann indicated. Then she placed both hands on her waist, turned 
gracefully away from him, and looked down. 

Charlie flicked the turn indicator, checked the traffic, and pulled out. 
When he got the car up to speed, he glanced over at her. He was just in time 
to see her lift her ass off the seat and shed her short skirt down her legs 
and off. She held it theatrically in front of herself and folded it very 
neatly before putting it with her sweater. 

She was stark naked. Sitting beside him in the car, the street lights 
sweeping over her petite, graceful body, she was stark naked! She looked 
over at him. Her smile was pure, blazing beautiful wickedness. "Well?" 
"You're-gorgeous," Charlie said hoarsely. 

"Thank you." She gave his cock a quick squeeze. So are you. Why don't you do 
the same thing?" "I'm driving," Charlie explained lamely. 

"Okay, I'll help. You keep driving." She unbuttoned his sports shirt. 
Steering first with one hand and then the other, he wriggled out of it. She 
put it aside. The air coming in the open window was cool and exciting. It 
blasted his bare chest. 

Turning on the seat to face him, Ann unbuckled his belt and unsnapped the 
waistband of his trousers. He was having trouble keeping the car in the 
proper lane, and the speed kept dropping, then picking up when he 
remembered. They were on a main thoroughfare, with streetlights on both 
sides. He managed to keep the speed right to make all the traffic lights for 
ten blocks, then was caught by one. 

"Shit!" He halted reluctantly, wishing he had run the yellow. He checked the 
mirror, terrified someone was going to pull up next to them. 

"Pick up your bottom," Ann ordered, hauling his pants down. 

Awkwardly, Charlie heaved his ass up off the seat and let her drag his pants 
and underpants down around his thighs. His cock burned as it dragged through 
the fly of his underpants. The upholstery felt strange against his bare 
butt. 

"Quick, get your feet out," Ann ordered. She leaned over to hold his 
trousers and underpants. "The light's changing," Charlie informed her. 

Charlie hurried, which made it take even longer He had his foot off both the 
gas, and the brake. The car was creeping forward slowly from the drag in the 
automatic transmission. From behind, a galaxy of headlights bore down on 
them. A horn blew and a car swerved past. Charlie fought to kick his feet 
free of his pants. Finally free of them, he jammed his foot down on the gas. 
The car lurched away from the light, throwing Ann back against the seat. She 
giggled, then untangled his trousers and folded them flatly and put them 
beside her. 

Charlie shook his head, and wondered if be had gone crazy. Then Ann's hand 
closed around his prick, and he knew he hadn't. She leaned forward, and her 
lips closed around the knob of his rod. He felt that searing seeping 
pleasure again as his cock hardened instantly. 

Then she sat up and curled her hand around his hard-on. 

"Turn right at the next light," she ordered. 

"Where are we going?" "You'll see." She gazed unconcernedly at the passing 
scenery and squeezed his towering hard-on. 

Taking one hand from the steering wheel, he curled his arm around her 
shoulder, then eased his hand down and cupped her boob. 

At last they arrived at a deserted dirt road. It was blocked by a chain 
suspended between two trees. 

"Well?" he asked stupidly. 

"What do you mean, 'Well'? Grab the blanket and let's go," she said, 
slightly acidly. 

Charlie felt like a complete fool. When she had told him to bring a blanket, 
he had thought it we to wrap up in if it got cold at the movies. He reached 
into the back seat and got the blanket, then let her drag him along by one 
hand. The dust and rocks in the dirt road felt gritty under his bare feet. 
Ann held his hand and they walked along just the way they did when they 
walked in the park. 

She guided him off the road and into a small clearing. He spread the blanket 
on the grass. A full moon flooded the clearing with silvery light. 

When he put his arms around her and drew her against him, her head barely 
came to his chin. Her petite body pressed warmly against his, like living 
satin. The tips of her boobs were hard little knots against his chest. Her 
sleek, slender thighs spread, captured one of his. He felt her pussy hair 
scratch his thigh. 

Releasing him, she slid downward. She bent her legs, knelt in front of him, 
and gripped his throbbing prick. Again he felt the warm, wet embrace of her 
mouth on his knob. She bathed his cockhead with her tongue, stroked it wetly 
as she sucked it in. He touched her head, combed his fingers through her 
short brown hair. He pulled her forward, forcing her to take more of his 
pulsing dick into her mouth. Instinctively, his hips thrust forward in a 
fucking motion, driving his prick to the back of her mouth. He felt her 
trying to pull back, pull away, felt her trying to free herself from his 
demanding hard-on. He held her trapped. His hands were clutching her hair, 
pulling her forward, forcing her to take his cock deeper. Something in him 
wanted to feel his cock jamming her throat, wanted to force her to take his 
load in her mouth. 

It took a powerful effort of will for Charlie to uncurl his fingers and 
release Ann's head so she could pull back and breathe. For a moment she 
looked up at him with a trace of fear. She had seen something in him that 
frightened her, something that she hadn't expected. 

Then she drew him down on the blanket beside her and they clutched each 
other hungrily. She lay back, presenting her petite body to him. She held 
his wrists gently as his hands explored her body; He pinched her tits. 
Lust-almost pain-flashed across her face. He fought the urge to' pinch her 
harder, and instead stroked his hands down to her flat, trim waist. His 
thumbs met on her stomach and his fingers almost touched the pound on either 
side of her, she was so small. He squeezed her, felt her flesh yield to his 
powerful grip. He probed his thumbs into the dark oval of her navel, held 
her steady as she writhed on the blanket. 

Then he slid his hands lower. With his eyes on her face, he probed the hot 
nest of her pussy, drilled one thumb into her seething cunt. Hot ripples of 
wet flesh embraced him warmly. 

A hand curled around his spit-damp prick and squeezed it, testing its 
hardness. A thumb ran over the tip of his prick, smearing his secretions 
over his hot meat. 

"Fuck me," she moaned softly. "Please fuck Charlie held back. He stroked his 
thumb the length of her steaming gash, watched her writhe from the 
stimulation. Then he covered her body with his. His hips nestled between her 
gaping thighs and his cock probed her crotch. He humped impatiently. His 
prick slid through her hot gash, missing the mark. Drawing back, he tried 
again. This time his cock plunged into her slick hale. 

"Easy," she moaned. 

Charlie slowed his attack. Carefully, he worked his prick into the hot well 
of her cunt. He felt the rippled walls of her twat grip his tool. He was 
amazed at the heat of her clutching snatch. He pumped his prick deep into 
her hole, until his hips jammed against her, his pubic bone pressed hard 
against hers. The head of his cock butted blindly against the end of her 
cunt. 

"Awww!" she moaned. 

Charlie drew back and slid his cock into her cunt again. He began fucking 
her, loving the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her tight sheath. The 
sensation of pistoning in and out of her slick snatch was unlike anything he 
had ever experienced before. It was total stimulation of his cock. The 
rippled walls of her cunt stroked the knob, the shaft, the nerve-bud on the 
underside, the whole length of his prick. 

He fucked her hard, feeling the tip of his rod jam against the end of her 
cunt, stretching her lengthwise as well as in. diameter. His pubic arch 
smashed against hers. Their tangling crotch bushes, thin flesh, and her 
clitoris, did little to cushion the impact. 

Ann's body heaved under him, her hips thrust upward to meet his drives. She 
writhed under him like a bug spitted on a pin. She was whining and 
whimpering as she took his powerful thrusts into her petite body. Her nails 
clawed his back. 

He kept pumping and pumping in her cunt, and felt the anticipation grow in 
his guts. He felt the cum collecting itself for the final spurting thrust, 
and moved more quickly and more sharply. She was making odd, wordless noises 
every time his body impacted against hers. It was like he was jolting the 
short, sharp cries from her. She seemed to be trying to say something, but 
he couldn't make any sense out of her stuttered whining. Then she was 
clutching him, trying to move her crotch up and down with his so he didn't 
piston in her hole. 

He kept fucking, made her do what he wanted, made his cock burn against her 
cunt walls. He humped harder, quicker, sharper as the feeling of 
anticipation in his guts grew. Then he was spurting; and he drove his cock 
into her cunt as if he were trying to run her through. His prick jerked and 
pumped in her hot hole. He felt his jizz erupting deep in her twat. Her cunt 
walls convulsed and clutched his spouting rod and she went rigid as she 
accepted his gushing load. 

She remained stiff until his balls were wrung dry, then collapsed limply on 
the hard ground. Charlie loved the feel of her small body under his, but 
yielded and rolled off her when Ann shoved at him. He flopped onto his back, 
feeling a strand of cum drying on one thigh, feeling cold jizz coating his 
withered prick. 

"You're-kind of-rough," Ann panted softly. 

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm new at it." "I know. I was looking forward to 
teaching you. But you knew it all without being taught." "You weren't a 
virgin." Charlie decided he didn't mind. "Sorry I was so rough," he 
apologized. 

"It was kind of nice, for a change," Ann answered. 

"For a change?" She made it sound like she screwed once a day and twice on 
Sundays. 

"Most guys are too gentle. Some girls like to be-forced to do things." 
Charlie found the idea unexpectedly appealing. "Really?" "Uhhh. Not too much 
though," she cautioned. "They don't like to be hurt. But they like a guy to 
be strong with them." Rolling to her side, she began stroking his bare chest 
with the tips of her fingers. 

Charlie stared at her. 

"Girls like to be-told what to do," Ann went on. 

Charlie thought of something she had done earlier, and how great it had 
felt. He thought, too, of what it had looked like in the porno magazine. 
When he thought of asking her to do it, his belly knotted with tension. His 
pulse pounded through his body like primitive drumbeats. His cock began to 
stiffen. 

"Suck my cock," he said softly. 

"What?" Ann's response was so soft he barely heard it. 

"I said, suck my cock," he repeated firmly. 

Ann was lying with her head on his chest. She looked down at his hardening 
dick. It lay up against his belly. He felt her gulp. 

"Go ahead. Suck it. Suck it until I come in your mouth." He put his hand on 
her head and pushed her in the direction of his crotch. Her head slid down 
his bare stomach. Her hair tickled erotically. She didn't lift her head from 
his hard belly. She accepted his rod and mouthed it gently. He felt her lips 
circle his engorged tool, felt a new wave of blood pour into his already 
distended prick. 

Letting his head fall back, Charlie savored the feel of her warm, moist 
tongue sweeping his prick clean of drying cum. He felt hot lubricant trickle 
the length of his tool and spill into her mouth. 

Ann shifted. She got to her knees, without releasing his cock from her 
mouth. She straddled his legs, embraced them with her own, and faced up his 
body. She held his prick in her hand and slid her mouth down on it, coating 
it with saliva. She stroked her tongue up the length of its underside, swept 
it clean of his seeping juices. Her lips closed over the knob. She pressed 
downward, drove his cock to the back of her mouth. 

Charlie lifted his head and rested it on his hands. He stared down the 
length of his body and watched his prick vanish into Ann's mouth. Moonlight 
spilled over her smooth shoulders. It side-lighted one of her small titties, 
made her look even younger and more virginal. She rested her elbows on his 
hip bones, steadied his prick, and flicked her face with his immense dick. 

The sight of her eating his meat started the cum flowing in Charlie's groin. 
"You're a cocksucker. You suck cock, you know that, Ann? You suck cock!" Ann 
didn't answer. He saw tension knotting her shoulders. Suddenly he realized 
how he felt about Mm, realized he didn't love her. Dating her was a badge of 
success. She was one of the most popular girls around school. She was 
pretty, intelligent, talented, admired, and respected. And he had her down 
on her knees. She was sucking his cock like a common slut, and he loved it. 
She loved it, too, which made it all the better. She degraded herself 
further by liking what she was doing. 

"Suck it," he said harshly. "Suck my cock until I come. And then swallow my 
jizz. Suck it, suck it, suck it. Cocksucker!" Ann whimpered, and took more 
of his prick into her mouth. He saw her stomach heave as she gagged on the 
massive rod. Her lips were distended by the towering bulk of his shaft, her 
jaws forced wide open by his prick. Her tongue stroked and pressed and 
bathed the vein on the underside as she bobbed her head over his groin. Her 
fingers lifted and rolled his nuts as she sucked on his cock. 

He was going to come. The pool of sperm felt like lava in his guts. His nuts 
drew up tight against his groin, and he felt the eruption peaking with the 
inevitability of a tidal wave. 

Reaching down, he clamped his hands on Ann's head, gripped her hair, and 
moved her up and down, up and down. His hips began to push upward as he 
rammed her head down, slammed his cock down her throat. He knew she was 
gagging and choking, but ignored it. He didn't care. He didn't give a shit. 
All he cared about was his building ecstasy, and how great it would feel to 
pour his hot, sticky load down her throat. 

He began to spurt, and jammed her head down hard on his tool. Staring up 
into the moonlit night, he unloaded his cum into her sucking, swallowing 
mouth. Thick spurts of jizz burst from his prick-solid wads of pleasure 
poured down her throat. Her tongue and palate massaged his cock as she 
swallowed the successive waves of thick juice. He felt her trying to pull up 
as his orgasm passed the halfway point, and let her draw up and suck in a 
breath of air. Raising his head, he saw his cock shining with her spit. A 
creamy dribble of cum escaped her sucking, encircling lips and dribbled down 
into his crotch bush. 

He was glad there was a full moon, so he could see everything as well as 
feel it. Half the pleasure in the act came from being able to watch Ann's 
abject humiliation. 

She sucked him dry. She milked his prick with her stroking fingers and 
extracted the last drops of thick fuck cream with her lips. She pressed the 
strip of flesh behind his balls. Then she sat up. Her warm ass settled down 
on his legs. She sat up straight and put her hands outer thighs, the 
moonlight spilling over her slender naked body. Her face was a study in 
exhaustion and lust. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was gaping open. Her 
chin was shiny with overflowed saliva and jizz. Her chest heaved as she 
fought to catch her breath. 

Charlie let his head drop back onto his cushioning hands and savored the 
delicious ache of satisfaction in his groin, savored the memory of how Ann 
had looked with her head spiked on his jetting prick. He dozed contentedly, 
exhausted. He was dimly aware of Ann moving, doing something. He felt her 
moving up his body, but paid no attention to her. He was awash in a sea of 
pleasure from his recent orgasm. 

He felt. Ann's thighs embracing his torso, her ass brushing his stomach, the 
soft scratch of her pussy hair against his chest and realized she was moving 
up him. Just as he opened his eyes and lifted his head to see what she was 
doing, she pinned his arms with her legs. Her full weight mashed his biceps 
painfully into the ground. 

He didn't need to lift his head to see her. She was towering right there 
over him. She was resting her warm, firm, smooth ass on his chest just hard 
enough to make it difficult for him to breathe. 

"It works two ways, you know," she informed him, a nasty edge in her voice. 
"These are the days of women's lib." "Huh?" She had just said women liked 
being told what to do! "Women like to do the telling, too. I ate you. Now 
you're going to eat Charlie shook his head, then winced when she put more 
pressure on his already aching arms. Her knees were beside his ears, her 
toes beside his ribs. Her shin bones were across his upper arms. All she had 
to do was move her toes slightly and his muscles were rolled painfully along 
the hard ground. His hands and forearms were free, but there was nothing he 
could reach on her that would dislodge her. 

"I sucked your cock. Now you can eat my cunt," Ann informed him bluntly. The 
vile words coming from her pretty, young, innocent-looking mouth jolted him, 
in spite of all that had gone before. Looking up, he had an ant's-eye view 
of her slender, graceful body. Her flat tummy was a gentle indentation below 
the smooth swell of her boobs. She was a dramatic, erotic study in curves, 
lights, and shadows. Her nipples were stiff points, her navel a dark hollow. 
She lifted her ass off his chest, and he could see the neat patch of her 
pussy. It was almost black in the moonlight, and stringy and kinky with cum. 

"Eat me," she ordered, shoving her pussy in his face. She slid her hands 
sensuously down her body and spread her cuntlips. All he could see was a 
darker patch. But he could smell her-a rich, enticing aroma, a mixture of 
female secretions and cum spilled over him from her hot cunt. 

Letting go of her twat, she reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair 
and held tight. She lifted his head, drew his face up to her crotch, and 
pressed his mouth against her hot, soft, wet gash. Her pussy hair scratched 
and tickled his lips and cheeks. He was drowning in her hot cunt meat. He 
resisted, so she increased the pressure on his upper arms. He yielded, 
drilled his tongue into her hot snatch. His mouth was instantly flooded with 
the metallic taste of her inner tissues. He bored his tongue into the well 
of her cunt, and tasted both her cum and his, all mingled together. He liked 
it. The taste inside her cunt triggered a primitive response in his guts, 
and if he hadn't already been so sexually drained, he knew his dick would 
have. I stiffened. As it was, all he felt was a delicious ache in his 
drained cock. 

Ann held him trapped up against her dripping cunt. He lapped at her open 
gash, slurped up her streaming flow. He twisted his tongue deep into her 
rippled cunt, dug his nose into her pussy folds, pressed it down on the 
squirming bud of her clit. He opened his eyes and saw Ann writhing over him 
in the grip of sexual excitement. Her face was twisted with lust. Then she 
looked down at him, and he saw in her eyes what he had felt when he watched 
her sucking his cock. He saw in her face the pure pleasure of sexually 
humiliating another person. 

And he found a weird, wild joy in being humiliated. Closing his eyes, he 
savored his degradation, marveled at the craziness of it all. Minutes 
earlier, he had been loving the sight other humiliation, and now he was 
wallowing in his own, loving it almost as much. 

"My clit," Ann ordered. "Suck my clit until I come. Suck it, suck it, suck 
it!" She added emphasis to her order by twisting her hands in his hair. She 
wrenched his head backwards, dragged his mouth away from her cunt. He ripped 
his tongue up her slippery gash, felt the button of her clit slip away from 
his searching mouth. He sought the nubbin with his lips, blindly, like a 
baby searching for its mother's tit. Then he captured her mini-prick, and 
sucked it into his mouth. He tried to suck it right out of her body. He 
squeezed the squirmy pearl against his teeth with his tongue. 

He opened his eyes when Ann began to thrash around, to writhe and twist. Her 
cunt flooded his chin as she came. He was making her come with his mouth, 
and while he was being degraded by being forced to eat her pussy, he had a 
crazy feeling of power, too. Because he was the reason for her coming. He 
was responsible for her carnal reactions, was controlling them, and the 
whole thing was such a crazy tangle of dominance and submission it didn't 
make any sense at all. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was the 
exquisite sexual pleasure of the whole, mad, moonlit scene. 

It went on until Ann's orgasm was over and she released his head. His neck 
muscles exhausted, Charlie let his head thump back down onto the 
blanket-covered ground. He struggled to breathe against her weight as she 
settled down on his chest. He felt her cunt juice drying cold and crusty on 
his cheeks and chin. He was overwhelmed by the smell that clung to him. Then 
Ann dismounted and sat beside him on the blanket. She put her arms around 
her knees. Her head slumped forward as she caught her breath. 

Charlie finally broke the silence. "What time do you suppose it is?" he 
asked, trying to judge how far the moon had moved since their arrival in the 
clearing. 

Ann shrugged without lifting her head, "I don't know. Does it matter?" 
"Don't you have a curfew?" "Yeah," Ann said calmly. "And I missed it." 
"What'll happen?" "I'll get spanked. What about you?" "Mom won't do 
anything," Charlie answered. 

"Gee, that's no good. She ought to enforce it," H Ann observed. 

"I know. But she'll just look hurt, and I'll feel like shit. But maybe 
that's better than a spanking. 

"Oh, no," Ann argued. "I like the spanking." "You like it?" "Sure. It means 
that they love me and care about me. And besides, I get a kick out of the 
pain thing." "Huh?" 

"Daddy turns me over his knee, hauls down my panties and lays it right on my 
bare bottom," Ann went on dreamily. 

"Sounds crazy" "Daddy gets turned on by it, too," Ann added. "He gets a 
hard-on. I can feel it. I think he'd like to fuck me." "He hasn't ever?" 
"No." Ann sighed. "He goes and gives it to Mom instead." She glanced over at 
Charlie. "What does your mom do for sex, now that your dad's dead?" Charlie 
had never thought about it. He had never thought about his mother as caring 
about sex. The idea shocked him, and intrigued him. He tried to visualize 
his mother making love, and couldn't. "I don't know." "Does she date at 
all?" Charlie shook his head. "Not really. She's been sort of seeing a guy, 
Eric Jameson, but not really dating." "Think she'll get married again?" 
Charlie shook his head. "She loved Dad too much. She'll never forget him. 
I'm the man of the house now." "So what are you going to do, fuck her?" Ann 
asked. 

"God no!" Charlie answered automatically, shocked. 

"Why not? She's pretty and young," Ann observed. 

"She's old." "Not more than forty, I'd bet," Ann retorted. 

"But she's my mother!" "If I'd like to fuck my father, why shouldn't you 
want to fuck your mother?" Ann asked logically. 

Unsettled, Charlie shut the discussion off. "I don't want to talk about it. 
We better get home." Gathering up the blanket, they made their way to the 
car. The cool night air dried the cum and sweat on their naked bodies. Once 
there, they got out their clothes and dressed. Ann produced a pair of 
panties from her purse and pulled them on. 

"So Daddy will have something to take down when I get home." She giggled. 

"You really like to get spanked, don't you?" Charlie asked. 

"It turns me on. And it proves they love me. You should be so lucky." "Mom 
would never spank me," Charlie sighed. 

"Why don't you ask her?" Ann suggested. 

Charlie shook his head and slipped behind the wheel. Wordlessly, he turned 
the car around. He pondered the idea all the way home, parked the car and 
crept quietly into the dark house. Maybe his mother was asleep and wouldn't 
know when he had gotten home. He couldn't stand her hurt looks when he 
failed her, he really couldn't. 

Chapter Three Ellen Jameson stood facing her father. Her head was down 
slightly. Her red curls tumbled over the shoulders of her baby dolls. Even 
with the slight, defensive hunch to her shoulders, her tits thrust out 
impressively against the soft cotton. Her nipples shifted with every tense 
breath. Her hands were clasped in front of her crotch where her panties 
bunched tightly between her thighs. Her legs and feet were clamped together. 
Her blue eyes, shadowed by her hair, glowed. The flush in her cheeks had 
made her freckles fade out a little. Her lips shifted nervously. She licked 
them tensely. 

Eric Jameson was sitting in a straight-backed chair, eyeing his daughter, 
his expression stern rather than angry. "You acknowledge that you were 
late?" he asked. He was wearing a terrycloth bathrobe which belted around 
the waist. 

"Yes, Daddy." "You know you're to be punished?" "Yes, Daddy." There was a 
touch of husky breathless in her voice. 

"How late were you?" he asked. 

"Fif-fifteen minutes," Ellen stammered tensely. She twisted her fingers 
together nervously. Her eyes glittered with excitement. 

"It's the second time this week you've been late," he pointed out. 

"Ye-yes, Daddy," Ellen agreed. Her tits were rising and falling 
dramatically. Her nipples were getting hard. 

"Get the paddle," he said softly. 

"Yes, Daddy," she agreed in the same soft, hot tone. Turning her back on 
him, she went over to the bureau and took down the ping-pong paddle hanging 
beside the mirror. The motion made the hem of her top rise up and expose the 
generous roundness of her ass, the ruffled edge of the panties where the 
elastic clutched the softness of her butt. 

Her thighs scissored smoothly as she walked back to her father. A wisp of 
dark-red hair curled against one thigh. She handed him the paddle and stood 
in front of him. 

"Take your panties down," he ordered. 

Ellen obeyed. She lifted the top and hooked her thumbs in the waist{band of 
the panties. She skinned them down her legs and stepped out of them 
daintily. A tantalizing hint of red cunt hair showed below the bottom edge 
of the baby dolls. 

"Over my knee," Eric Jameson ordered inexorably, showing no visible interest 
in his daughter's exposure. 

Biting her lower lip, Ellen moved to one side, then bent and folded herself 
over her father's lap She lowered herself slowly until she could curl one 
arm around his naked calf, the other around the leg of the chair. Her hair 
brushed the floor as she hung head downward over his lap. The pajama top was 
up around her shoulders. Her buttcheeks gleamed softly. The crack of her ass 
was dark and exciting. 

Her boobs sagged heavily because of her inverted position, the nipples and 
areolas pink and alertly hard, highly aroused. The red bush of her pussy was 
visible between her pale, rounded thighs. 

Erie Jameson gripped the paddle firmly in his right hand. With his left, he 
gently stroked her fanny, first one cheek, then the other. Then he slid his 
hand down the smooth slope of her back and held her shoulders firmly down. 
He flexed his fingers around the handle of the paddle. He raised it slowly, 
and brought it down on the buttcheek farthest from him with a ringing crack. 

Ellen made no sound, but jerked as if hit with an electric shock. Her grip 
on her father's leg tightened. 

Shifting, he moved his free leg to trap Ellen's so she couldn't kick free. 
She was now draped over one leg only. Then, with his daughter effectively 
immobilized, he brought the paddle down sharply on her other cheek. Already, 
the first one was reddening, blushing. 

Ellen jerked again, but still made no sound. Her nipples got more flushed 
and erect. Her face was reddening from her inverted position. Her forehead 
was shiny with sweat. 

The paddle cracked down a third time. She moaned very, very softly as her 
asscheek reddened still more. She tightened her -grip on the chair leg and 
her father's leg. The paddle descended on her bottom again. She whimpered. 

Eric Jameson wielded the paddle with slow deliberation, carefully 
alternating asscheeks. He kept his eyes focused firmly on his target. He 
slid the hand on Ellen's shoulder down slightly and gripped the back of her 
neck. He tightened his leg grip on her, too. 

Ellen's eyes were squeezed tight shut. Tears oozed from them, felt their way 
hesitantly through her red eyebrows to her forehead. Her lips were stretched 
in a grimace of pain, her teeth clenched tight, filtering her soft moans. 
Her body tensed in anticipation of each blow. Her buns knotted defensively. 

Her father deliberately varied the rhythm of his blows so as to catch her 
unawares with each ringing smack, and, as a result, she always jumped 
violently. 

She squirmed in his lap, twisted slightly. Something slid up beside her, 
lifted and tented his robe. 

When the next blow struck her upraised ass, her father's robe slid slowly 
open and revealed the tall, hard column of his cock. The dusky pink knob 
gleamed. The ivory shaft throbbed and pulsed as it swelled. The slit at the 
tip winked lasciviously. 

The paddle cracked on Ellen's ass, and Eric's cock slid against her bare 
skin. It was impossible for her to ignore it. Her tits got harder and more 
erect than ever. Her boobs shivered. 

The paddle smashed down on her tail again. Eleven. Twelve. Both cheeks were 
a brilliant scarlet, flaming and hot. Between her thighs, her cuntlips were 
swollen and distended. A delicate pink ruffle of inner tissues showed in the 
heart of her pussy. 

Maintaining a slow, totally unpredictable rhythm, Eric applied three more 
swats to his daughter's already burning butt. His cock throbbed and rubbed 
against her pale flesh. A gooey, gleaming strand of lubricant smeared her 
pale skin. A thick glob welled into view at the tip of his prick. He let go 
of Ellen's neck and dropped the hand with the paddle loosely to his side. 

Ellen heaved herself up from her folded-over position. Her face was 
contorted with pain from the spanking-and something else, too. Tears 
streamed down her cheeks. Stepping back half a pace, she straddled her 
father's lap, moved over him. Reaching down, she gripped the pale, erect 
shaft of his cock and aimed it up into her red snatch. Without opening her 
eyes, she lowered herself on his towering spear, rammed it up into her 
oozing hole. She sank down until she had the entire brutal length of her 
father's prick in her cunt, until her dark-red bush tangled with his light 
red one. She sat up very straight, as if the full length of his shaft was 
rammed up through her graceful body like a second spine. 

"Oooohhh, Daddy," she moaned softly. "Ohhh, Daddy!" The ping-pang paddle 
thumped to the floor and Eric Jameson stripped the top half of his 
daughter's pajamas up and off her, exposing her eighteen-year-old body 
completely. She let him rip her last covering off her. Her long red hair 
tumbled in dismay over her creamy shoulders, brushed the upper slopes of her 
full, firm boobs. 

Eric Jameson sucked in his breath at the sight of his daughter's body, just 
the way he did every time he saw it. She had a superb figure. Her tits were 
generous, thrusting mounds any woman would be proud of. Her skin, where it 
was exposed to the sun, was freckled and golden. Where it was protected by 
the one-piece suit she always wore, it was a creamy, flawless, pale white. 

"Oh, Daddy," Ellen repeated, linking her hands behind his neck. She began to 
rise and fall. His cock slid out of her hole, then drove back up into her 
tight, clinging, aroused cunt. He slid his ass to the edge of the chair and 
let her fuck herself on his tool. He unbelted his robe and spread it wide 
open. His flat muscular stomach was wrinkled because of his slouched 
position. 

Her legs flexing smoothly, Ellen lifted and dropped on her father's prick. 
Her whole body flushed with pleasure. Her boobs quivered excitingly as she 
moved. The only consideration she showed her abused butt was to move so the 
burned portions of her flesh didn't come into contact with her father's 
hairy thighs. 

Eric looked down to where his cock emerged, then disappeared, into his 
daughter's pink-lipped snatch. His shaft gleamed with her juices. He savored 
the hot, rippled embrace of her tight cunt. Reaching down, he probed into 
the upper end of her silt and diddled her clitoris. 

The pleasure on Ellen's face intensified: Then he slid his hands up and 
captured the generous mounds of her jugs. He massaged the full globes, ran 
his thumbs over the rubbery tips of her nipples. 

"Pinch them, Daddy," Ellen moaned. "Hurt them, Daddy, hurt them." Eric 
obeyed, squeezed them between thumb and forefinger. Ellen squirmed with 
pleasure from the ungentle stimulation. She began moving her hips in a small 
circle as she rose and fell, rose and fell, ramming his cock into her 
gushing twat. 

She had still not opened her eyes. The tears had dried on her cheeks. She 
frowned as she concentrated on screwing her father. Her head was tipped back 
and her hands were still linked behind his neck. 

"Soon, baby, soon," Eric told her. 

"Me, too, Daddy," she whispered. "Oh, very soon, Daddy. Very, very soon." 
"Anytime. Anytime." "Now, Daddy! Oh, yes! Now, oh, now, now, NOW!" She moved 
quickly, but not too quickly. She emphasized the circular motion, increased 
the bouncing. "NOW!" She jammed her cunt down hard on his prick and quivered 
in the grip of her pleasure. The hot blush of an orgasm surged up from her 
crotch, spread out over her belly and chest engulfed her. She trembled in 
its fiery embrace. 

Eric heaved his hips upward as his daughter's come drew near. His muscles 
straining, his ass knotting; he drilled his cock deep into her spasming 
match. He unloaded his thick, creamy sperm into his daughter's cunt, poured 
out his load 'with wrenching twists of his muscles. His cock pulsed and 
heaved in her twitching hole, and a thick, pearly wave overflowed, spilled 
into his strawberry-blond crotch bush, darkening and kinking the curly 
hairs. 

For a long, straining moment, Ellen sat very straight and tall on her 
father's lap, her nude body a rigid tower of lust. Then, slowly, she fell 
forward against him. Her boobs squashed warmly on his strong chest. She 
cuddled against him. His prick was still sunk in her streaming cunt. He 
stroked the smooth expanse of her back tenderly. 

"Oh, Daddy, that was a good one." She sighed contentedly. 

"Are you going to be late again?" he asked. 

Ellen nodded, without lifting her head from his shoulder. "Probably. Pete's 
car isn't very reliable, you know." "Maybe you should date someone whose car 
is reliable." "But then we'd just have to find another excuse, wouldn't we?" 
Eric let out a snort that was half-chuckle. "I guess we would, at that. But 
I don't like punishing you. 

Ellen shifted making his limp cock squirm inside her flooded twat. "Are you 
sure?" "Yet I don't like hurting you." "But it excites you." 

"It's that great ass of yours that excites me," he argued, "not spanking 
you." He pushed her away from him and looked into her deep blue eyes. "You 
like being hurt, don't you?" "Yeah. By you. When you punish me, it means you 
love me. Just like this means you love me." She wiggled on him again, only 
this time his prick slipped out. "Oh, drat." Eric snorted. "We're crazy, You 
know that?" "Because we love each other? But that's what fathers and 
daughters are supposed to do," Ellen argued. 

"But not like this. It's called incest," he reminded her. 

"Incest, incest," Ellen snorted. "What difference does it make? We're not 
reproducing, we re just screwing. And besides, whose idea was it in the 
first place, anyway?" "Your mother's." "Mom's? Really?" Eric nodded and let 
her brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes. 

"But she's been dead for ten years now," Ellen pointed out. "I was only six 
when she died. We didn't start doing it until I was fourteen. Remember?" 
"How could I forget?" he replied, recalling how two years earlier, he had 
aroused his daughter's young body tenderly and skillfully, and then taken 
her virginity with all the love and expertise he had. It had been one of the 
finest, most exquisite experiences of his life. His heart bursting, he had 
shown his love for her in the most intimate way he knew how. She had 
responded with love and youthful passion. 

"So, tell me how Mom suggested something that didn't happen until eight 
years after she died," 

Ellen insisted. 

"Well, she knew she was dying," Eric said. 

"Didn't we all," Ellen observed with a shiver. "God, it was awful." "Yeah," 
Eric a very brave and wonderful woman, but also a jealous one. Even when she 
was dying, she didn't want me to ever have another woman. But she knew that 
was impossible, so she ordered me to seduce you when you were old enough. 
Somehow, she figured that since half of you came from her, it was all right, 
that you weren't really another woman." "That's crazy," Ellen snorted. "Not 
that I mind, you understand." "She was crazy with pain by then. It was her 
dying request. So, of course, I honored it." "And honored it, and honored 
it, and honored it," Ellen teased. Then she threw her arms around him and 
hugged him, pressed the warm length of her naked body against his. "Oh, 
Daddy, I love you so much!" "I love you, too, baby." "Aren't you ever going 
to marry again?" she asked, breaking the clinch. 

He shrugged. "Why should I? I have you." Ellen's lips thinned. "But you 
won't have me forever. I'm growing up, Daddy. I won't stay home forever, you 
know. I can't do that." She cocked her head. "What about Carla Manners? 
She'd be a good catch, you know." "She's not interested in me." "You see her 
often enough." "She just wants my advice on how to raise Charlie. When I 
tried to get close to her, she slammed the door in my face. Figuratively, I 
mean." "So, try again," Ellen argued. "She's a normal woman, she's been a 
widow for six months. She must be getting horny." "What do you know about 
being horny?" Eric taunted her. "I've been screwing you ever since you were 
old enough to know what the word means." Ellen giggled and shook her head. 
"You were about a year late!" Eric stared at her. "But you were a virgin." 
"I'd been masturbating for over a year," she told him smugly. "I learned 
where my clit is and what it's for and really went to town." "You still do 
it?" he asked warily. 

"Sometimes. When I feel like it." "Huh!" "I'll bet you do, too," she teased. 
"Come on, admit it, Daddy. You jack off, sometimes. Admit it." "Well, yeah, 
once in a while," he acknowledged reluctantly. "What do you do on your 
dates?" he asked, counterattacking. 

"Ho, ho, ho, wouldn't you like to know?" "Yes, I would!" he said sharply. "I 
don't want you getting in trouble." "I can't. I'm on the Pill. Remember?" 
"There are other kinds of trouble. VD, for example," he said acidly. "That 
would be really cool for me to come down with a case of clap from my own 
daughter." "Would be a little hard to explain, wouldn't it?" Ellen 
acknowledged, chastened. "But it won't happen. I don't screw my dates." "Why 
not? Guys want you, don't they?" "Do they want me! Pete is like an octopus. 
No, it's that I don't want to. None of them appeal to me the way you do. 
They're all so young, and so-so gentle! I say no and. they stop like I'd hit 
them or something. I want them to be strong. I want to know that they really 
want me, want me bad enough to fight me for it even." "You want them to hurt 
you." Eric sighed. 

"Yeah, a little." She got up off her father at last, bent, and picked up the 
paddle and took it back to its place by the mirror. Her nude form moved with 
a casual, natural grace that was much like her mother's. Eric felt a lump 
forming in his throat. 

"Baby, that's wrong," he said softly. 

Ellen kept her back to him. Her eyes met his in the mirror. "But I don't get 
really turned on unless I do get hurt a little," she said softly. "Not a 
lot, just a little. Like maybe my breasts pinched, or my fanny swatted." 
"That's why you misbehave, so I'll spank you," Eric said sadly. 

Ellen nodded, hurt by the pain in his eyes. She turned and crossed to him 
quickly, and sank to her knees in front of him. "Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry. But 
it's the way I am. I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry." Near tears, shuddering, she 
lay her head in his lap. 

"It's okay, baby," he soothed, "it's okay." He stroked her thick, rich red 
hair. He looked down at his daughter both lovingly and sadly. 

Ellen snuffled noisily. "'Oh, Daddy, I love you so," she whispered. "I'd do 
anything for you, anything at all." She was looking at his limp, cum-crusty 
prick. It was an inch in front of her nose. 

Slowly, hesitantly, she inched her cheek across his thigh. She rolled the 
tip of his prick towards her lips, and kissed it tenderly. Then, opening her 
mouth, she sucked his drained tool in. She bathed it with her tongue, washed 
it clean. 

The warm, loving touch of her lips, and the sight of her so willingly taking 
his cock into her mouth brought a rush of blood to Eric's rod, and it 
swelled quickly. Still stroking her hair, he stared down at her as she 
sucked his cock. She closed her eyes and suckled on his prick, drawing blood 
into it, making it swell and stiffen rapidly. 

Eric loved the hot embrace of her mouth, the velvety sweeping of her tongue 
across his nerve endings. He stared at his daughter as she blew him. 

His cock grew too stiff and erect for her to keep her cheek on his thigh. 
She had to lift her head. Then, tipping his cock upright, she pushed her 
face down on it, slid the hard, hot bulk down her tongue. It poked the back 
of her mouth, her palate, and she lifted up again. Her red tresses stroked 
his thighs as she sucked his cock. 

Slipping her hand down between his thighs, she squeezed his nuts gently. 
They rolled on her fingers like warm, live eggs. She curled her hand around 
his balls and protected them. 

Her cheeks caved in as she sucked on the prick in her mouth. She scrubbed 
the underside with her tongue, stroked the nerve patch below the knob. She 
pumped her head, and took fully half his towering dick into her mouth. 

Eric leaned back, closed his eyes and savored the wonderful sucking his cock 
was, getting. His hands were still stroking Ellen's head as it bobbed over 
his lap. He felt her warm, soft jugs brushing his legs as she moved over his 
groin. His feet were touching the outsides of her thighs. His neck muscles 
straining, he lifted his head and looked at her again. 

Ellen's face was set with concentration as she sucked her father's cock. She 
held the base of his prick with one hand and fondled his nuts with the 
other. Her head moved, up and down, up and down, as she took better than 
half his tool into her mouth. Saliva spilled down his shaft, mingling with 
the cum already matting his crotch bush. Her hair hung around her face like 
a heavy, swaying auburn curtain. 

It took an effort, but Eric managed to keep his eyes on his daughter as she 
sucked his dick. His arms ached with the strain as he stroked her hair. He 
was battling to keep from grasping her head and jamming it down on his cock. 

Then a tremor developed in one of his thighs, an uncontrollable muscular 
quiver. His flat stomach muscles began rippling as his lust built. His hips 
began making hesitant hunching motions. Sweat trickled from his face and his 
armpits, traced tickling lines down his chest. His lips skinned back over 
his teeth in a primitive grin of lust as Ellen continued to suck his prick. 

"Going to come," he said hoarsely, warning her. 

"Mmmmm," she mumbled around his cock. Leaning farther over him, she fought 
to get more of his dick into her mouth, drove down hard on him. Her nostrils 
flared as she sucked air in after each stroke on his prick. She shifted her 
hand from his balls and scratched behind his jewels, scratched the hard 
foundation of his rod. 

Eric's hips moved faster. Somehow, he managed to keep from forcing his 
daughter's face down on his throbbing hard-on, kept stroking her hair 
gently, kept touching her cheeks softly as she sucked on his prick. His 
balls knotted up tight in his crotch and his hips quivered and lifted. Ellen 
forced her head down on his cock until she had nearly - two-thirds of it in 
her mouth. The shaft pulsed and convulsed, and her throat worked as jizz 
flooded her. His buttcheeks knotted, his body shivering with the strain of 
his orgasm, Eric poured his thick load into his daughter's mouth, down her 
throat, into her belly. 

Ellen sucked and sucked, swallowed and gulped. Her tongue stroked and milked 
the jetting cock in her mouth. Her throat swallowed and swallowed and the 
waves carried the thick fuck juice to her stomach. Some of the cream escaped 
her lips, drooled into his crotch patch. She continued to suck and draw on 
his prick until it began to lose its strength and shrink. Her stroking 
tongue revived it momentarily, and it shot one last dribble of sperm into 
her mouth. When his cock had shrunk to half its former size, Ellen released 
it. She rested her cheek on his thigh again. Panting, her face stained with 
his jizz, she caught her breath. 

"Oh, baby, you're too much," Eric sighed, petting his daughter's head 
tenderly. "How could I ever marry when I have you?" "But you can't have me 
forever," she whispered. 

"I can for as long as I live," he noted. "I'm twenty-one years older than 
you. You're sure to outlive me." 

"That's true." "But what'll happen to you when I'm gone? You'll be alone." 
He shivered. "That's no good, baby. We can't hang onto each other, I guess. 

We've got to find partners for both of us, while there's still time." Ellen 
snuffled loudly. She nodded. "But I don't like the idea. 

"Jealous?" "Uh-huh." She was still resting her cheek on his thigh. 

"Just like your mother." He chuckled wryly. "But so am I, baby, so am I." 
"Jealous of me?" she asked, pleased. 

"Yeah." He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. "Know who I think about 
when I jack off?" "No, who?" "Not Mom?" "No. I remember her all wasted and 
eaten up by the cancer. So I think of you." "I think of you when I do it," 
she told him. "I always have." "God, we're a pair," he sighed. "Let's get 
cleaned up and go to bed." They showered, their hands sweeping layers of 
lather over each other's bodies. But they were both so erotically drained, 
it was a mild sensuous pleasure, nothing more. Eric didn't even get a 
hard-on. Then, silently, they dried off and each went to their own rooms. 

Eric lay on his back in bed and stared at the ceiling. He realized he had to 
somehow get Ellen out of the nest before it was too late. If he could 
succeed with Carla Manners, it would accomplish the task. With Carla in his 
bed, Ellen and he would have to break off their incestuous relationship. 

Alone in bed, Ellen hugged her teddy bear defensively. She felt terribly 
insecure. She knew her father was right, but life without him frightened 
her. And there was the problem of finding someone to love, too. It wasn't 
possible that anyone could ever take her father's place. 

It was a long, lonely night for them both. 

Chapter Four The setting sun, a monstrous red ball, was cut in half by the 
ocean. Charlie stared gloomily at it and wished he could walk along the 
flaming crimson path on the water until he reached China. The gentle surf 
swept the sand with a quiet bubbling rush as the tide crept inexorably in, 
smoothing away the footprints of the day's crowd. The beach was nearly 
deserted. One last family was packing up, preparing to leave the vast 
expanse of sand. The children's play area was empty. The swings were 
motionless in the still air. 

Charlie decided he would never understand women. He hadn't really wanted to 
go on this double date in the first place. But he had missed his curfew a 
week ago and Carla had taken away his car privileges. Now he was dependent 
on Pete Mahoney's notoriously unreliable car, a situation he hated. 

Carla had been mopping around all week, giving him strange, soulful glances. 
Before leaving the house that afternoon, he had tried to prepare her for the 
possibility he would be late by mentioning Pete's car, but all that had 
accomplished was to earn him another doleful, suspicious look. 

And now, thanks to Ann, the day was turning out to be a real downer. She 
was, at this point, shining up to the oozing, oily charm of Pete 

Mahoney. Charlie had come on strong and masculine-exactly what she had said 
she liked the last time they had been out. Meanwhile, Pete had been rejected 
by Ellen Jameson, who seemed intent on being the ultimate teasing bitch. 
Instead of slapping Ellen down, Pete had shifted his attention to Ann. As a 
result, Charlie was left with Ellen, who was about as pleasant to deal with 
as a bad-tempered wildcat. 

So, hare he was, staring out to sea, trying to ignore the hot giggles from 
Ann, and Ellen's silent, challenging presence. A car started, rumbled 
quietly for a moment, and then drove away. The beach was empty except for 
the four teenagers. 

"Do they patrol this beach at night?" Ellen asked. 

Charlie shook his head without looking at her. "No, not down this far." 
"That's nice. We can do anything we want to then," Ellen observed. 

Charlie looked at her warily. From the way she had turned down her date's 
approaches, he doubted she wanted to do much of anything. The red-haired 
girl was wearing what was a demure one-piece suit, except for the powerful 
thrust of her knockers. The top edge of the suit exposed a vast expanse of 
her firm mounds. It cut across just above the nipples. It was fastened 
between her tits by a button through a loop, then opened to a skinny, 
oval-shaped gap which revealed the inner and under curves-of her creamy 
white boobs. 

She was built like a brick shithouse, Charlie reflected. She kept giving out 
this red-hot come on, but she put down Pete's polite approaches. "Do we want 
to do anything?" Charlie asked warily. 

"They do," Ellen responded, not answering his question. 

Charlie looked at Pete and Ann, and his horniness increased. Ann was on her 
back, sleek, feminine and enticing. Lying beside her, leaning on one elbow, 
Pete was rubbing her flat tummy with a slow circular motion. His hand moved 
closer and closer to her titties. His fingers slid over one gentle mound. 
Ann did nothing to discourage him. Charlie remembered the feel of Ann's 
boobs in his own hands, and felt hot and hard inside. He wanted to tear his 
eyes off the slow seduction, but couldn't. He was conscious of the heat of 
Ellen's voluptuous body beside his and eased an arm around her waist. She 
remained totally unresponsive. 

Ann sure was responding to Pete, though. Her eyes closed and her head rolled 
slowly from side to side as, through her suit top, he fondled first one 
small titty and then the other. He was easing her top lower slowly, exposing 
creamy pale, untanned skin, then the edge of a nipple. When Ann did nothing 
to stop him, he slid the suit top down and bared her boobs completely. 

The sight of Pete's hand cupping Ann's bare boob made Charlie's cock hurt. 
Without trying to hide from Ellen what he was doing, he reached inside his 
suit and adjusted his prick so it lay up against his stomach and had some 
growing room. He knew Ellen saw him do it. But she ignored him so completely 
it was infuriating. 

Pete leaned forward and his lips touched Ann's tit. She arched her spine in 
response, welcomed his gentle nibbling on her boob. At the same time, she 
reached behind her back, unhooked her suit top and stripped it away. Then 
she curled one arm around Pete's head and guided his gentle sucking on her 
nipples. Her slender legs squirmed sensuously, graceful thigh rubbed against 
graceful thigh. 

When Pete began sliding his hand down Ann's flat tummy, Charlie's lust 
flared sharply. He curled his arm more tightly around Ellen's waist and slid 
his hand towards her tit. Without looking at him, she pushed his hand away 
from her boob. Angrily, Charlie ignored her restraint and, through her suit, 
took firm, brutal procession of her huge, firm jug. He was a little 
surprised that she made no further move to discourage him. He squeezed her 
big knocker; fascinated and aroused by its incredible size. 

Meanwhile, Pete's fingers slid under the top edge of the remaining piece of 
Ann's suit. Her tummy fluttered at his touch, sucked in. The lump of his 
fingertips moved lower under the suit. Charlie knew where Ann's pussy hair 
began-not more than an inch below the top edge of the panties. Pete was 
combing through those brown curls, running his fingertips over the arch of 
her pubis. Ann's legs slid apart, her knees bent gently. She rocked her 
crotch, encouraging Pete to explore her pussy. 

Charlie could almost feel Ann's hot, moist softness as Pete's fingers 
caressed it under the suit. Ann was writhing on the blanket, holding Pete's 
head to her titties. He gazed down her petite body, watched what his hand 
was doing. Her hips shifted and squirmed orgasmically as he probed her hot 
pussy. Her suit bottom slipped lower. It didn't expose anything yet, because 
Pete's hand was covering her muff Ann was making soft, whimpering noises. 
Reaching out blindly, she located the button and fly of Pete's hacked-off 
jeans. A flick of her fingers and the button was open. A second later the 
zipper was down. His cock sprang free, thrust strongly out from his black 
crotch hair. His prick looked blood-red in the fading light from the sun. 
The purple knob was a black knob. Ann's dainty hand curled around the heavy 
rod. 

Charlie's prick throbbed. He clutched Ellen's jug more firmly, tried to tug 
her suit top lower. The straps were still fled behind her neck. He started 
to reach for the bow knot, but she stopped him, placed his hand back on her 
big tit. Her calm resistance was absolutely infuriating. Angry, he reached 
for the knot with his other hand. When she tried to stop him, he ignored 
her. He tugged on the end of the strap until the knot came undone. 

He looked at her, and couldn't understand her expression at all. It wasn't 
anger-it was excitement, and challenge. He clutched the top of her suit and 
dragged it rudely downward. Because of the size of her boobs, the button had 
to yield. It did. It tore free and leapt away into the sand. Her tits were 
bare-incredible, massive, creamy mounds capped with generous pink nipples. 
Charlie slid a hand under one jug and hefted its warm heavy weight 
admiringly. He had attained his goal! Ellen showed no sign of trying to 
regain her lost covering, and accepted his caress. 

Ann was accepting Pete's approaches, too. Maintaining her grip on his prick, 
she lifted her ass and let him, drag her suit down and expose her crotch. He 
slid the suit down her slender legs. She bent her knees and kicked the scrap 
of material away. Pete paused and struggled out of his cut-offs. Soon he was 
as nude as the girl beside him. Then he moved over her, lowered his chest to 
hers as their lips met in a slurping, tongue-twisting kiss. Ann's arms 
curled around his bare back, her nails bit into his tanned skin. His butt 
shone pale white in the near darkness. The sun was just a memory in the 
western sky. The beach was lighted by a quarter moon and a few lights in the 
parking lot, play area and comfort stations. 

Charlie knew Pete and Ann were going to flick in a few minutes. His heart 
began hammering. He was going to watch Pete plunge his cock into Ann's 
tight, hot cunt! Knowing how it felt, having fucked her himself just a week 
before, would make watching a super turn-on. He didn't need to look down to 
know that his prick was so long and hard it was peering out the top of his 
pants like a predator looking for a victim. 

Pete moved his body farther over Ann's. She slid one leg under him, opened 
her cunt to him, prepared to cradle his body between her thighs. Pete 
slipped over, and pressed her into the blanket with his weight. Her arms 
wrapped around his body, she squirmed beneath his bulk. His hips humped, 
evidently futilely. He pulled up and away. His cock was dangling downward, 
exploring Ann's brown pussy patch. She reached down, grasped the heavy rod, 
and guided it to the center of her pussy. Pete drove forward, and his prick 
slid deep into her steaming hole. 

Charlie's breath hissed out from between his clenched teeth as he watched 
the carnal coupling. He was clutching Ellen's big jug. His fingers were 
sinking cruelly into her soft flesh. Her mouth was open with passion, her 
eyes glittering as she, too, watched Pete's prick entering Ann. Ellen's legs 
were squirming restlessly, thigh against thigh. 

Pete drilled his prick deep into Ann's slight body, drew back, and plunged 
into her cunt again. Her hips heaved upward to meet his drive. She coiled 
her legs around his, locked the two of them together as he humped her. It 
wasn't possible to see his prick sliding in and out of her cunt now, but the 
motions of their bodies made it obvious what was happening. The noise of the 
surf drowned out the soft, sticky slapping sound of their fucking, but not 
their moans and gasps of pleasure. 

The sight of the two naked bodies writhing together was incredible. Charlie 
shifted restlessly. His cock was uncomfortable again. Deciding he didn't 
give a shit whether it upset Ellen or not, e let go of her, stood up, and 
impatiently stripped off his pants and jock strap. His cock swung heavily, 
expanded. His balls tensed up against his groin from the change in 
temperature, then slid back down into their delicate, purse-like sac. 
Ellen's expression was impossible to read. She glanced over at his cock. She 
still made no move to pull her top up to cover her tits. Her nipples were 
hard and aroused. It was the only visible evidence she was affected by what 
was going on around her. She remained as she had been all day-cool, and 
controlled and infuriating. She was leaning back on her hands, with her 
ankles crossed, her legs straight in front of her, straight towards the 
tangled flicking knot that was Ann and Pete. 

With cold deliberation, Ellen looked from Charlie back to Ann and Pete. 
Charlie was left standing there with his hard-on spearing out boldly. Her 
showy lack of interest in him as a sexual being infuriated Charlie. He stood 
over her for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists angrily. Then, 
controlling himself with a supreme effort, he sat down beside her, and 
turned his attention to the humping couple. 

They were near the end. Pete's moves were quicker, sharper, with a long 
pause after each downward stroke. He jammed his cock into Ann's tight hole 
and held there, drew back, then jammed in again. Ann lurched and jerked in 
response to each of his thrusts. Clawing at his back, she writhed lewdly 
against him. Her clit was being mangled between her pubic arch and his. 
Their mouths were glued together in a sucking, slurping, penetrating kiss. 

Pete shoved his prick home in her cunt one last time. They both mated as if 
they had been hitched to a high-voltage wire. Quivering, they strained 
against each other. It was obvious he was pumping his load into her cunt, 
even though there was no longer any visible movement. He had his prick balls 
deep in her twat and was pouring his thick cream into her hole. Her cunt 
walls were spasming around his jetting tool. 

Inflamed by the sight, Charlie turned on Ellen Jameson. He grabbed her suit 
and one of her tits with brutal ferocity. She shoved him roughly away. 
Infuriated, he grabbed at her again. She twisted away, tried to escape. His 
grasp on her suit held her momentarily, and then the zipper opened and she 
squirmed her hips out of the tight garment. It tugged down her legs and she 
kicked free. 

The triumphant laugh she let out as she broke away enraged Charlie. Hurling 
her suit down, he charged after her. His feet digging deep in the soft sand, 
his eyes fixed on her jiggling, flexing buttcheeks, he followed her across 
the beach. He started to gain on her almost immediately. The gap closed even 
more when she paused to cast a quick glance over her shoulder at him. There 
was no fear on her face-only lust and pleasure. 

A flying tackle brought her down. Then her knee came up and slammed into his 
stomach, and Charlie let go of her as the wind whooshed out of him. She 
broke away, and sprinted in the direction of the comfort stations. Charlie 
scrambled quickly to his feet. 

Furious, he sprinted after her. She got to the paved walkway and he lost 
ground because he was still in soft sand. She slammed through the door into 
the ladies' dressing rooms. Without hesitating, he followed. The door banged 
back against its stop as he slammed through it. A foot whipped out of the 
darkness and caught his ankle, bringing him down heavily and painfully on 
the tile floor. He slid on the wet floor and slammed into the far wall. He 
saw her silhouette as she ducked out the door. 

As he got up, Charlie wondered if he was ever going to catch her. Then he 
thought of what he was going to do to her when he did. Anticipation made him 
run faster. 

He vaulted the low wall around the playground. She had taken the longer way 
through the gate. As he cleared the bricks, he snatched up a mass of rope 
that was lying there. 

[I Three long strides and he slammed into Ellen's back and brought her down 
again. This time he carefully avoided her thrashing legs, and scissored his 
own around her and squeezed her tightly around the waist. When she swung at 
him, he grabbed her wrist, and quickly knotted a loop of rope around it. 
Catching her other arm, ignoring her panting and cutting and kicking, he 
tied her wrists together. Then, flipping her onto her stomach, he sat on the 
small of her back, facing her feet. His hard cock snuggled suggestively in 
the crevice of her ass. He hobbled her with a second length of rope, tied 
her ankles so there was about six inches of rope between them. 

Then he let her buck him off. He rolled to one side while she thrashed, 
trying to get free. When she turned over and started to reach for the rope 
around her ankles, he grabbed the loose end of the rope holding her wrists 
and jerked her hands away from her feet. 

"Come on, get up," he ordered. "It's time someone taught you a lesson." "You 
think you're man enough to do it?" she taunted. 

More determined than ever, Charlie dragged her towards the jungle gym. 

She didn't exactly come willingly, but she didn't struggle as hard as she 
could have, either. At the framework of steel, Charlie passed the end of the 
rope from her wrists over the highest pipe and drew it tight, then tied it 
off. Ellen's hands were drawn up over her head. Her feet were firmly planted 
in the sand, but she could only move a foot or so in any direction. 

She turned to face Charlie. She was unable to shield her lush body from his 
frank study. Her boobs were lifted by the position of her arms. Her nipples 
were aroused; her ribs were heaving with her panting. Her red pussy patch 
looked dark in the faint moonlight. 

Charlie's cock stiffened and rose as he studied his captive. During the 
chase, his hard-on had faded. Now the sight of Ellen's well-rounded body, 
her rich sensuous curves and her inviting red pussy brought his hard-on back 
stronger than ever. For a moment he debated fucking her right away, instead 
of giving her the beating she deserved. He twitched a length of rope in his 
hand nervously. 

"Well?" Ellen challenged. Her expression was bold, proud and scornful. 

Charlie didn't dare back down now. The rope twitched as he drew his arm 
back. "Belly or backside, it doesn't make any difference to me," he informed 
her coldly. 

Ellen didn't flinch. She faced him, refused to turn her back on him. He 
brought the rope around in a wide sweep, carefully tempering the blow. The 
knotted end stroked across her belly timidly. 

Ellen didn't bat an eye, just stared at his towering prick, deliberately 
taunting him. His cock looked like a telephone pole thrusting out from his 
crotch. 

Charlie struck again, harder. He felt the blow up his arm. Ellen jerked 
this, time, then arched her back, presented the tender, stretched expanse of 
her pale belly. His fury building, Charlie struck her again. The knotted end 
of the rope slashed across her flawless belly. Frustration and humiliation 
overcoming him, Charlie struck her again, harder. The tip of the rope caught 
the rise of one of her boobs, and she doubled over with pain. 

Charlie's blows began to rain down on her, harder and faster as his fury 
grew. He went half-mad. The rope whistled as it cut through the air. It 
slashed against her writhing body with a wicked slapping sound. Dark-red 
welts began to show on her pale skin, criss-crossing her from tits to hips. 
As he slashed at her viciously, his cock throbbed with blazing lust. 

Ellen jerked against her bonds, twisted from side to side as Charlie 
continued to lash her unprotected flesh. She could have turned and taken the 
blows on her back, but didn't. She took the blows on her straining torso. 
The knotted end bit into her. 

She accepted the punishment as nothing more than what she deserved. She had 
been deliberately teasing Pete, and when he had refused to bring her to 
heel, she had turned to Charlie. She found he had the strength and power she 
demanded, and was delighted. She loved the pain. She felt her pussy swelling 
and flowing with need as her stomach and chest were lashed. She bit back her 
cries of pain, but couldn't control her tears. They streamed down her cheeks 
as her agony went on, and on, and on. She knew that Pete and Ann were 
watching her degradation, Pete with pleasure, Ann with astonishment and 
excitement. 

Charlie's frenzy began to fade as his arm tired, and as be realized what he 
was doing. With a curse, he threw the rope aside. Immediately, his lust 
boiled up. Grabbing Ellen by the waist, he pushed her out from the jungle 
gym until the rope binding her wrists was taut, and she was just hanging 
there. 

He shoved in between her thighs, wedged her knees open with his body. He 
drove the blunt head of his cock into her red-haired pussy. His prick plowed 
the length of her gash, missing her cunt hole. Ellen thrashed madly as his 
cock ripped over her clit. Backing up, he lunged at her again. This time his 
cock struck into her cunt, burrowing deep into her hot hole. 

"AAAWWWW!" Ellen bellowed. It was the first sound she had made since the mad 
chase had begun. She jerked against the ropes binding her wrists as his cock 
slammed deep into her quivering twat, filling her with a brutal abruptness. 

Charlie drew back and rammed into her cunt again. It was rape, pure and 
simple, but it was what they both wanted. His fingers digging into Ellen's 
waist to steady her and keep her hips positioned for his assault, Charlie 
jammed his prick deep into softly yielding snatch. He felt the rippled walls 
of her cunt blaze past his prick. He humped into her twat again and again 
and again, his crotch slamming against hers with sledgehammer force, his 
cockhead pounding the end of her cunt like a pneumatic drill. The pool of 
cum in his guts felt like seething, boiling acid. It grew bigger and bigger 
and more impatient. 

Ellen felt herself coming. Gargling strangely deep in her throat, she was 
bathed in the searing flames of an orgasm. Her hips heaved crazily as she 
struggled to be completely run through by the cock in her convulsing cunt. 
She was oblivious to the searing pain in her scorched, beaten belly. Her 
cunt spasmed madly as she was completely engulfed in pleasure. Everything 
else vanished. 

Charlie felt his own orgasm bursting over If and rammed his erupting prick 
as deeply into Ellen's spasming cunt as possible. He was vaguely aware of 
her twat convulsing around his prick, but his mind was on the searing 
pumping of his cock in her warm sheath. The cum spurting from his prickhead 
felt like thick taffy as it slammed against the end of her cunt. His cock, 
prostate, balls, every muscle in his body, thrust and squeezed and pumped. 
He poured his load deep into Ellen's [. body. Holding her drawn tight 
against the ropes, he jammed his hips against her crotch and hosed her 
innards with sperm. 

When his coming faded, he eased Ellen forward until her feet touched the 
sand. His cock slid wetly out of her hole. Suddenly her arms were around him 
and they fell to the sand in a warm heap. He wondered crazily just when the 
knot at her wrists had come loose. He realized with a jolt that she probably 
could have escaped at any time, even during the beating, but had stayed to 
take it, and then him. He had thought he would feel remorse for the 
thrashing he had given her, but he didn't. She had been asking for it, and 
then she had stood there and taken it. 

"Don't apologize," she said softly. "Don't ever apologize, no matter how 
many times you do that to me." 

Chapter Five Morning sunlight streamed through the window of Carla's 
bedroom. Her mood was as cold as the sun was hot. She sat on the edge of the 
bed, glaring at Charlie; He stood in front of her, wearing only his 
bathrobe. His hair was still wet from the shower. There was a glitter of 
defiance in his eyes as he stood there sullenly. 

"That's twice now, and I just will not have it!" Carla mapped. 

"For Chrissake, I can't help it if Pete's car broke down," Charlie said 
angrily, lying, seizing on the likeliest excuse. 

"You could have called me," Carla said sharply. "We weren't near a 
telephone." "There are telephones everywhere. You could have found one as 
soon as you got the car fixed. You could have called me. I was sick with 
worry." She drummed her fingers angrily on the bed, found the lack of noise 
frustrating, and stopped. "What is it going to take to get through to you?" 
"How about a spanking?" Charlie blurted out, without thinking. 

"A spanking? A spanking," she repeated more thoughtfully. 

Charlie cringed, and suddenly wished he had kept his damn mouth shut. 

Carla nodded slowly. "Since you seem determined to act like a child, maybe 
you should be punished like a child. I think a spanking is exactly what's 
called for. You've never been spanked in your life. Maybe that's what's 
wrong with you." She tried to ignore the hot knot of sexual excitement that 
had sprung to life the moment she thought of spanking him. She pushed away 
the crazy memory from her honeymoon. This situation was nothing like that, 
she told herself. This was a straight, disciplinary spanking between mother 
and son, and that was all. 

"Get me my hairbrush from the dresser," she ordered sternly, trying to keep 
her voice from shaking. Her cunt felt hot and wet already. 

Charlie opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it abruptly. 
The front of his robe hung peculiarly as he walked across the room. There 
were beads of sweat on his forehead when he came back with the hairbrush. 

Carla took the brush hesitantly. She considered backing out at the last 
minute, then shook her head. If she didn't carry through on this, she'd lose 
control of Charlie completely, and he was all she had. She wished she was 
wearing something other than a knee-length nightie with nothing underneath 
it. 

The thin nylon had ridden halfway up her graceful thighs. 

"Face down across my lap," she ordered. 

Charlie's robe was standing out more noticeably He was getting a hard-on! 
Carla suddenly knew she shouldn't do this, but knew also it was too late to 
stop. 

Charlie knelt beside her on the bed, and lowered himself face down across 
her lap. His prick poked her in the thigh, then slid down between her legs. 
It felt like a hard, hot pole. It also felt fantastic. 

Carla tried to ignore her son's hard-on, and tightened her grip on the 
brush. Reaching over with her left hand, she drew the back of his robe up 
and exposed his muscular buttcheeks. For a moment, she just stared at them, 
surprised at how pale arid smooth they were. She wondered why she had 
expected anything else. She remembered that when Charlie was a baby, she had 
enjoyed smoothing powder over his bottom. Her pussy oozed, and she reminded 
herself sternly of the purpose of getting her son in this position. 

Angry with herself, Carla raised the brush and brought it down much harder 
than she intended. It cracked sharply against Charlie's ass and she felt him 
lurch in response. 

"YEOW!" Charlie straightened up sharply, and clutched his blistered ass, his 
cock thrusting out through the front of his robe. Carla was paralyzed by the 
sight of his monstrous tool, was astonished that her son had become so 
mature, so huge, so desirable. God! His cock was gorgeous! The shaft was 
sleek and rigid and pale, the knob a deep rose, and gracefully sculpted like 
a blunt spear. Her cunt drooled as she stared at his incredible hard-on. 
Then she felt him looking at her, and yanked her attention back to the 
matter at hand. 

"Bend over!" she ordered sharply. "Or this will just go that much harder for 
you. The longer this takes me, the more smacks you're going to get!" Charlie 
was pouting, but bent forward across her lap. He wasn't lying on her this 
time. 

There was something in his eyes Carla didn't want to see. It made her 
insides quake. 

She dragged his bathrobe up to bare his ass again. It opened completely. 
Fortunately, she wasn't able to see his cock. She stared at his muscular 
back. He was on his knees and elbows, and his butt was thrust up boldly. 

The side she had struck was a glaring pink. He brought the back of the brush 
sharply down on the other cheek. The sound rang through the room like a 
pistol shot. 

Charlie sucked in his breath with a hiss as his body tensed with pain. Carla 
brought the brush down again. The third blow fell where the first one had, 
and brought a soft moan from Charlie. 

The sight of his ass pinking up from the blows, and the months of bottled-up 
agony and tension and misery since Chuck's death all combined to reduce 
Carla's inhibitions to rubble. Swinging the brush still harder, she began to 
lay into Charlie with a vengeance. All her fury and frustration at the 
unfairness of the world boiled out QT her. She whaled away at Charlie's ass. 
She was pounding him down. Every blow against his flaming butt loosened his 
resisting muscles. He slid slowly lower on the bed. His elbows and knees 
slipped farther and farther apart. His dick touched her, slid slowly down 
between her thighs. She felt a hot, slippery trail on her thigh as his cock 
burrowed down between her legs. 

Carla's lust boiled higher. Her fury with herself and her son overwhelmed 
her. She rained blows on his ass with blind brutality. Tears blurred her 
eyes, making it harder and harder to aim. She was aware he was lurching with 
every stroke of the brush someone was bawling like a wounded calf. 

Suddenly the brush slipped and flew out of her hand. It bounced crazily 
across the room towards the door. Caught unawares, she brought her empty 
hand down on Charlie's muscular butt with knuckle-bruising force. Suddenly 
she realized the bawling was coming from Charlie. His ass was scarlet, 
patterned with the rounded oval of the hairbrush. 

"Stop, stop, stop! Please stop!" Charlie begged. His shoulders were 
shuddering and heaving with pain. 

His pain and pleading cut into Carla like a knife, slashed through to her 
mother love, laid her open. Reaching down, she grasped him by his shoulders 
and pulled at him, trying to draw him up to comfort him. He came up off her 
lap and fell into her arms, then bore her down on her back on the bed; As 
she hugged him to her, he shifted and squirmed to bring his body in line 
with hers. 

His legs wedged between hers. Her nightie rode up to her waist. Suddenly he 
was between her thighs. His cock found the hot nest of her cunt, and drilled 
deep into her steaming wet hole. Her hips heaved upward in blind, 
instinctive response as her cunt was filled with steel-hard cock for the 
first time in six months. 

Still whimpering and crying, Charlie began to hump his cock in his mother's 
cunt, began pumping his prick in the channel that had given him birth. 
Carla's body responded with pure animal lust. She didn't care who the cock 
belonged to, she only cared about the friction against her cunt walls, the 
cracking of her clitoris between two bony arches. Clutching at the strong, 
slender body on hers, Carla abandoned herself to the orgasmic pleasure of a 
real fuck. 

She spread her thighs wide, braced her heels on the edge of the bed, and 
welcomed his deep thrusts into her aching twat. She felt the head of his 
prick slain into her hole, prod and thrust against the end of her cunt. She 
bounced her hips on the mattress so hex crotch slammed hard against his and 
pulverized her clit to a patch of flame. Dragging his robe up to his 
shoulders, she clawed madly at his back, raked his skin with her nails. 

"Awwwyeah! Awwyeah! Awyeah!" she grunted in frantic syncopation to his 
fucking drives. 

Charlie was silent now, just panting heavily as he rammed his prick into her 
hot sheath. Grabbing his mother's shoulders, he heaved his cock into her 
seething hole, unaware even of the searing pain in his battered ass. All 
that existed was the pure animal pleasure of fucking. 

"AwGod! AwOod!" Carla wailed. "AAaawww! UUUUUNNNHHH!" She was coming. She 
was orgasming. It was like slow-motion films of a hydrogen bomb explosion an 
expanding fireball that swelled like a balloon until it filled her, 
overwhelmed her, scattered the blazing embers of her consciousness. And 
still her son fucked her and fucked her with eager, youthful stamina. The 
fireball of her orgasm coalesced out of the glittering fragments, proceeded 
to pulsate in time with the cock pumping in her hole. Her body no longer in 
the control of her mind, she just lay there, pinned to the bed by Charlie's 
bulk, and took it and took it and took it. 

Having fucked only the night before with Ellen at the beach, Charlie's prick 
felt half-numb. He could feel the jizz gathering slowly in his groin as he 
pistoned his cock in the slick sheath of his mother's cunt. Her clinging, 
rippled walls clutched his thrusting rod. He kept fucking, and felt his 
coming growing closer and closer. It was like the t long, slow ascent to the 
top of a wild fun-house slide. Finally he was poised precariously at the 
peak. He teetered there, likely to fall either way, back down the slope he 
had just climbed, or forward, into a wild, tossing ride of pure pleasure. 

Another stroke and his direction was determined. He felt himself stumble 
forward and plunge over the edge. His balls convulsed and he hosed his 
mother's cunt with his thick sperm. His body thrashing, milking and 
spurting, he poured his load into Carla's spasming pussy. 

Mother and son lay locked together, crotch fused to crotch until the last 
shudders died in them both. Then they lay limp and unmoving in the sunlit 
bedroom for along, long time. 

"Ooohh, my God, my God, my God!" Carla wailed. "My God, what have we done?" 
Tears filled her eyes, pooled, then trickled into her hair as honor, guilt 
and misery took over her shattered body. 

Charlie was unnerved by his mother's sudden sobs and tried to soothe her. He 
began stroking her gently. He still lay atop her, his withered prick still 
in her gooey cunt. "It's okay, Mom, it's okay," he repeated, over and over, 
and over again, until her sobbing slowed. "It's okay," he repeated until she 
was half dozing. 

"Ohh, Charlie," she sighed at last. "What have we done?" "Loved each other," 
Charlie answered with a lump in his throat. "We just loved each other is 
all, Mom. Don't worry, Mom, it's all right. Really it is." "You're 
not-bothered that you just-fucked your own mother?" Carla asked. 

Charlie looked down at her, and shook his head. "No, Main, I'm proud. I'm 
proud you wanted me." Carla drew a deep, shaky breath. "I've wanted you for 
a long, long time," she confessed, both sadly ant happily. Then she 
remembered the beating she had given him. "Uh. . . how's your... ass. ." "My 
ass?" Charlie asked brightly. "Hurts like a sonofabitch. You really laid it 
on me." "I'm sorry, baby, I'm really sorry," she said miserably. "I lost 
control." "It's okay," he assured her. "I deserved it, really. I-I was lying 
to you, Mom. Pete's car didn't break down last night. For a change." "It 
didn't?" Charlie shook his head. "I was having-kind of a hot time with Ellen 
Jameson. We lost track of the time. There was a phone right there, too." 
Carla gave her son a searching look. "You weren't a virgin, were you." It 
was a statement, not a question. 

Carla sighed. "I've been so blind, such a fool." "You have?" "I've been 
blind to your growing up. I've been clinging to you like you were a child, 
instead of treating you like the man of the house." "I'm still a child, in 
some ways, he blurted out. "I-I'm only eighteen. I've got a lot to learn, 
about a lot of things." Like sex?" Carla teased, tightening her cunt around 
his limp dick. 

"Like women," Charlie answered. "I don't V understand women, Mom." Carla 
smiled. "Men never really understand women, no matter how old they are." 
Charlie sighed. "Well, I don't seem to know nothing at all about them." 
"Anything," Carla corrected automatically. "Anything at all. I thought 
everything was cool between Ann and me. Then last night she dumped me for 
Pete Mahoney. I wound up with Ellen Jameson." "Eric's daughter?" "Yeah. 
She's a real tease, but once I brought her into line, she was like a tiger. 
She likes it rough." "Lots of women do," Carla observed, thinking of her 
honeymoon. 

"From what Ellen said, her father's pretty strict. He spanks her when she 
does something wrong." "Oh, he does, does he?" Carla was beginning to see 
Eric Jameson in a new light. 

"Yeah, with a ping-pong paddle." "Boy, that must hurt." "Ellen says she 
doesn't mind. She says it shows how much he loves her." "What's your feeling 
about being spanked at your age?" "I see what Ellen means," he said at last. 
"I mean, it proves you care about me. But it also feels like I've got a bad 
sunburn back there, I can tell you. 

"Maybe we could do something about that. Ointment or something would help 
take the sting out. Up you go," she ordered, even though she regretted 
losing his prick. She pushed his robe off his shoulders. "Let's be more open 
with each other from now on, okay?" "Okay," Charlie agreed, lifting her 
nightie and pulling it off over her head. They grinned at each other for a 
moment. 

"Lie down on the bed and I'll get some oil," Carla ordered. 

When she got back from the bathroom, Charlie was on his stomach on the bed, 
his head resting on his hands. His whole ass was bright-red. She sucked in 
her breath at the sight. 

"Pretty amazing, huh?" Charlie asked. 

"Like a stoplight. This may take the sting out. Maybe not, though. It's not 
an anesthetic ointment." Carla felt her guts tightening as she studied her 
son's form on the bed. He flinched when she touched his reddened ass, then 
relaxed slowly as she spread the soothing oil over his buttcheeks. As she 
stroked his abused flesh, she felt her excitement rising. He was a younger 
edition of Chuck, especially from this angle. His spine was straight and 
strong, his shoulders graceful and well-muscled. His torso tapered to a trim 
waist. His legs were long and slender. There was a hint of dark hair between 
his asscheeks. 

He was smiling contentedly as she caressed his bare butt. Experimentally, 
she slid her fingers the length of his crack. His smile broadened at her 
delicate touch on the intimate area. 

Carla probed a little farther, a little deeper. Charlie's butt rose 
invitingly to her touch. He liked it, was asking for more! She wondered if 
his bung could be as much of an erogenous zone as hers was. She probed 
deeper into his crack. Charlie lifted his ass higher, brought his knees 
forward, spread his legs. His cock and balls dangled heavily below him. 
Carla stroked one oily finger the length of his ass crack, touched the dark 
pucker of his bung. 

Charlie's smile broadened still more and he moaned his pleasure. His eyes 
were closed. His head was still resting on his hands. 

Carla pressed her finger against his asshole. Her own lust rising, she 
probed her son's butt. Her finger penetrated his brownie, and she felt the 
muscular ring clench reflexively, then loosen slowly as if Charlie was 
willing it to relax. Then it clenched again. 

"More, Mom," Charlie whispered when she hesitated. 

Her insides knotting, Carla pushed deeper into her son's ass, watched her 
finger slowly disappear into his bung. The first knuckle slid out of sight, 
then the second. Then her fist dug into the floor of his crack. Her index 
finger was sunk full depth in his asshole. She twisted her hand slowly, 
rotating her finger in the tight sheath of his bung. Charlie purred with 
pleasure. 

Looking between his thighs, she discovered his cock was distended again, and 
pointing heavily down towards the bed. Reaching between his legs, she curled 
her hand around his prick and pulled down on it. She stroked his rod, pumped 
her hand up and down on his steel-hard shaft while still squirming her 
finger in his butt. 

Charlie's expression was one of pure pleasure as she buggered and jacked him 
at the same time. His balls dangled heavily, bumping her wrist each time she 
moved her hand up and down on his tool. 

"God!" Charlie whispered. "God! Fantastic, Mom, fantastic!" Carla was 
shuddering with excitement. "Have you ever fucked a girl-in the ass?" she 
asked, her voice shaking. 

"Would you-like to do it-to me?" Carla asked, her voice breaking. 

Without lifting his head, Charlie nodded. 

His cock was as hard as steel. Carla covered it with the ointment while he 
knelt with his ass in the air. Then, a little reluctantly, she pulled her 
finger out of his bung and let go of his hot cock, She tossed the tube of 
ointment onto the bed. As he picked it up and opened it, she assumed the 
same hands-and-knees position he had been in. She felt as tight as a 
bowstring. 

"You'll have to-grease me up, first," she told him hoarsely. 

"Yeah." She felt his hands stroking the sleek globes of her ass, sucking her 
up with oil, caressing her smooth flesh. Then his fingers slid into the 
crack of her butt. She bit her lower lip as lust flared through her. His 
finger stroked her bung, and the sphincter clenched anxiously. Her pussy was 
dripping it was so aroused. 

His finger poked at her asshole and she struggled to loosen it. The 
twisting, drilling, probing finger being jabbed into her bowels made her 
squirm with pleasure and anticipation. She remembered the feeling of the 
cigar tube up her ass, and shuddered. Charlie's cock was infinitely larger 
than the metal cylinder, and was also alive, and hot, and her son's. 

Charlie twisted a second finger into her butt as if trying to stretch her 
shitter, and Carla whimpered with pleasure. He was taking his time, greasing 
her ass carefully for his invasion. 

"Please," she begged at last. "Please, Charlie, do it to me!" "Yeah, Mom." 
He set the ointment aside decisively. "Yeah." His fingers left her ass, and 
she braced herself for what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. She 
felt the bed shaking and shifting, and resisted the urge to turn to see what 
was happening. She was quivering with anticipation as she huddled, ass high, 
head down, on the big bed-the bed she had shared with Chuck for so many 
years. 

The touch of Charlie's cockhead on her bung made her jerk with surprise and 
relief. There was a slow increase of pressure against her butt, a steady 
building of pleasure. She struggled to unlock her asshole for him, battled 
her defensive reflexes. 

She felt his knob begin to enter her bung, and tears of excitement stung her 
eyes. She felt the head of his rod begin to penetrate. The pleasure was even 
greater than she had imagined it would be. The muscular ring of her asshole 
was being slowly distended by the tapering cone of his knob. He drove 
inward. There was a stinging sensation, a stretching feeling, and then real 
pain, which only enhanced the excruciating pleasure. 

She felt the knob of his cock enter her ass. There was a slipping sensation 
as the ring of her bung snapped into the groove joining his knob to the 
.shaft of his prick. Then he pushed into her ass more quickly. She felt his 
towering rod pistoning deep into her butt, the shaft sliding through her 
gripping sphincter muscle with a searing, twining feeling. Her bowels were 
stuff I with his towering dick. Then his hips jammed up against her 
buttcheeks and she knew he was balls deep in her ass. The knowledge brought 
her to a sudden, sharp, flaming orgasm. 

Charlie stopped moving, and her orgasm faded slowly. She licked her lips, 
cleared her throat, finally got her voice working. 

"How does it feel?" she asked. 

"Fantastic. It's tight, real tight, and sort of a greasy feeling. Real hot 
and tight, mostly. How's it for you?" "Fantastic," Carla moaned. "Feels like 
I'm in the middle of the biggest, greatest bowel movement in the world. Can 
you move in me?" "Don't know how long I can without coming," Charlie said 
nervously. 

"Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter," Carla assured him. "Do it, just do it." 
Charlie began to pump in her, and her pleasure skyrocketed. She felt her ass 
ring tug outward when he drew back, drive inward when he rammed his cock 
into her bung. Her ass blazed from the friction, and her cunt wept because 
of its emptiness. Reaching back under herself. Carla massaged her streaming 
cunt, then rolled her clit against her pubis. Her pleasure grew and grew. 

Charlie fucked and fucked his cock in her tight asshole, hands gripping her 
small waist tightly. He fucked more and more quickly, pistoning his prick in 
her butt, his hips slamming against her buns and sending shocks jolting up 
her spine. He hauled back on her as he drove forward, pushed her away as he 
drew back. He was totally in control of the cornholing, and she loved it. 
She was whirling in a cyclonic, continuous orgasm. It was unlike anything 
she had ever experienced before. 

Charlie slammed at her, slammed at her again and again, and then reamed her 
butt out one last time. He held her jammed back tight against him as his 
prick convulsed and jerked in her tight asshole. 

Carla felt her son's jizz jetting deep into her guts. Her orgasm climbed a 
notch higher and pulsed in time with the jerking, jetting cock in her ass. 
Then her consciousness faded slowly in the glittering haze of pleasure. 

She came to when she felt her son's cock leaving her stretched, well-fucked 
ass. She slid forward and lay on her stomach on the bed. Charlie stretched 
out on top of her, his prick nestled between her oily buttcheeks. He hugged 
her warmly and tenderly. 

"Thanks, Mom." "Thank you! You were fantastic." "Now I need a shower." 
"Could I wash you? The way I did when you were a baby?" "I'd like that. And 
I'll wash you, if you'd like." "I'm sure I'd like it!" So, lovingly, they 
bathed each other under the hot spray. They were both too exhausted to 
become aroused again, but enjoyed it anyway. 

"Know what I am now?" Charlie asked as he dried his mother's back. 

"No, what are you?" "A mother-tucker! Supposed to be the worst thing in the 
world." "And is it?" Charlie shook his head. 

"Uh. . . you know," Carla said, "You should uh .. . keep dating girls." "You 
don't mind?" "I-well, yes," Carla admitted. "But it just wouldn't be right 
for you not to." "You should go out, too, Mom," Charlie noted. "You really 
should get married again." "You think so?" "Yes." "But I don't know anyone," 
Carla pointed out. "What about Eric Jameson?" Carla thought about him for a 
minute. She liked him. She had been avoiding his sexual advances only out of 
loyalty to Chuck. Now that her own son had fucked her twice, saying no to 
Eric Jameson seemed ludicrous. "Maybe you're right," she said, pulling on 
her robe. 

"Don't dress, Mom," Charlie urged. "I like seeing you naked." "Well, okay," 
she agreed nervously. "You'll stay naked, too?" "Sure." Charlie grinned. 

"Be kicky having Ellen around all the time." Charlie chuckled. "Be real 
kicky, me with Ellen and you, you with me and Eric." "And Ellen with you and 
her father?" Carla asked. 

"With her father?" Charlie asked. 

Carla shrugged. "Why not? Why not have her be a father-fucker?" "Yeah, why 
not?" Charlie exclaimed. 

"Because it's undoubtedly both illegal and immoral," Carla said drily. 

"Have to get a bed ten feet wide to hold us all! Hey, I'm hungry. How about 
breakfast?" "Brunch, you mean," Carla said, looking at the clock. As she 
puttered around the kitchen, she wondered why she felt so little honor at 
what had happened. Maybe because now things were better between her and her 
son than they had ever been before. 

But she did have the feeling that sooner or later the sky was going to fall. 
She shivered. Then she saw her son watching her, and the fear melted in to a 
soft warmth at the sight of his naked body Maybe it would be all right. But 
the nugget of fear remained. 

"Charlie?" "Yeah, Mom?" "I don't think it would be a good idea for Ellen, or 
anyone, to find out about-us," Carla cautioned. "It's fun to joke about the 
four of us doing things, but it can't ever really be that way." "Why?" 
"Because it's against the law." "Yeah, Mom, I know. You're right." "It was 
fun dreaming though, wasn't it?" "Yeah, it was fun dreaming," Charlie 
agreed. "We'll have to be real careful." "Real careful." She smiled; "Love 
you, Charlie." "Love you, Mom." 

Chapter Six "It's a pleasure to meet you," Eric Jameson said to Charlie, 
shaking his hand firmly. "Ellen's told me a lot about you. I know your 
mother well." "Thank you, sir," Charlie replied politely, nervously. He 
hadn't expected her father tar be home. Ellen had called and invited Charlie 
over. "Mom has mentioned you, too." "I hope to get to know your mother even 
better," Eric noted. 

I'll bet you do, Charlie thought to himself. What the hell was Ellen up to, 
inviting him over when her father was home? "Come on in and relax," Mr. 
Jameson invited. "I don't usually make such a special point of meeting 
Ellen's dates. But she talked so glowingly about you I wanted to meet you." 
Charlie wondered what the hell that meant. Just what had Ellen told her 
father about their one date? "It was Daddy's idea, not mine," Ellen spoke up 
as Charlie followed Eric Jameson into the living room. The sound of her 
voice startled Charlie. She hadn't met him at the door, hadn't been anywhere 
in sight. She was standing motionless near a door that evidently led to the 
kitchen. She was wearing a crisp, sleeveless white blouse, and tight white 
short shorts. Her feet were bare. She was wearing no jewelry. Her long red 
hair was neatly combed, and spilled lushly over her shoulders. Her eyes 
looked very bright. 

"Quiet, Ellen," her father ordered. His tone brooked no argument. 

"Yes, Daddy," Ellen said softly, humbly. 

Charlie had the feeling there were strong undercurrents at work. Ellen had 
mentioned her father's disciplining her. Evidently, from her subdued manner, 
he had a powerful hold over her. But there were other aspects of the 
relationship that were puzzling. The whole thing seemed to be something 
other than just conventional father and daughter interplay. 

"Ellen, get the refreshments, please," Eric Jameson ordered. "Sit down, 
Charlie." "Yes, sir." Charlie sat down as if the man's words had poked him 
in the belly. 

Ellen came back with a tray with two cans on it, beer for her father and 
soda for Charlie. There was nothing for her. As she bent to offer him the 
tray, her eyes caught his. He tried to read the message in them, but 
couldn't. 

"Ellen told me about your date the other night," Eric Jameson announced 
after taking a sip of beer. 

Charlie hid behind his drink. Everything depended on what she had told her 
father. Charlie wasn't about to volunteer any information. "It took 
some-stimulation, but she finally told me what happened." You sonofabitch, 
Charlie thought angrily. 

"I'm telling you this so there won't be any misunderstandings or mistakes," 
Eric Jameson went on. "Ellen is a very special young lady, requiring very 
special treatment, I think you'll agree." 

"Yes, sir," Charlie said quickly. 

"What's more, she and I have a unique relationship. Don't we, Ellen?" "Yes, 
Daddy." There was a warmth in her tone that surprised Charlie. 

"Do you intend to continue to date Ellen?" Eric Jameson asked suddenly. 

Charlie was startled. He hadn't even thought about it. It had never been a 
question in his mind. "Yes, sir, JE do," he answered, thinking quickly. He 
glanced at Ellen. She was standing with her hands clasped in front of 
herself, as unmoving and expressionless as a wooden Indian. 

"In that case, I think it would be advisable to let you in on our family 
secret. But, let me warn you, if you reveal this to anyone, Ellen and I will 
both deny it, and there won't be any way you can prove it. 

What's more, I'll swear you raped her, and she will corroborate that. Won't 
you, Ellen?" "Yes, Daddy." "In which case," her father went on before 
Charlie could react to the amazing threat, "you'll be in hot water right up 
to your ears. You follow me?" Charlie did, and it didn't make him at all 
happy: He wondered what the great "family secret" was. "Yes," he answered 
sullenly. 

"Don't get all sullen on me," the man said gently. "When you learn what's 
been going on, you'll understand. If you care as much about Ellen as I think 
you do, my threat will have been completely unnecessary. But I have to 
protect us, and it seems the best way. All right?" Somewhat mollified, 
Charlie nodded. He was still at a loss as to what was coming. As Eric 
Jameson took a swallow of beer, Charlie's gaze fucked from him to his 
daughter, and back again. 

Her cheeks were flushing hotly and her eyes glittered strangely. Charlie 
didn't think she was wearing a bra under her blouse. His heart began to beat 
more quickly. 

"Ellen and I have been lovers for over two years now," Eric Jameson 
announced calmly in the rigid silence. 

Charlie's ears went numb. He wasn't sure he had heard right, and mentally 
replayed the statement in his head over and over. He thought of the 
conversation he and his mother had had the previous morning, after their own 
passionate encounter. Laughter welled up in his chest. He choked it down 
sharply, and sought refuge behind his can of soda. 

"I said, Ellen and I have had an incestuous relationship for the last two 
years," Eric Jameson repeated, thinking Charlie hadn't understood. 

Charlie tried to figure how the hell he should react. He had to say 
something. He could reveal his own incestuous relationship with his mother, 
but rejected the idea. He'd have to discuss that with her first. What in the 
hell could he say? "Uh. . . yes, sir, I heard you," he managed at "You 
aren't upset by it?" Eric asked. 

How can a mother-tucker like me be upset by that? Charlie thought. He shook 
his head slowly. "Surprised. But not upset." "How would your mother feel 
about it?" Charlie didn't have to stop to think this one over, but pretended 
to, for the sake of appearances. "Pretty much the same as I do." "I sure 
hope you're right." "You want me to tell her?" Charlie asked. "Better that 
than have her find out herself," the man said quietly. "Yes, tell her if you 
think she can keep a secret. Just remember what will happen to you if anyone 
accuses us of it." "I'll remember," Charlie assured him. "And I'll tell Mom 
that, too. That'll keep her quiet." "Good," Eric Jameson sighed, relaxing at 
last. "Now, why don't you two go off and have a good time?" Ellen spoke up 
with a suddenness that startled both men. "I'd rather stay here and have a 
good time," she said, moving away from the kitchen door. "I don't think, 
with two men, I'd need the paddle to get turned on. What do you think, 
Daddy?" Charlie saw the open lust on the man's face, and knew his own must 
be just as blatant as he studied the lush, red-haired teenager. 

"Why don't we give it a try," Eric Jameson said hoarsely. 

"Charlie?" Ellen asked. 

Not trusting his voice, Charlie nodded. 

Ellen began to unbutton the high neck of the blouse. It quickly became 
obvious that she was not wearing a bra. Her pink nipples were rigid with 
excitement. She let the blouse drop away and unsnapped the waist of her 
tight shorts. She ran the zipper down. She wasn't wearing any panties, 
either! Her red muff sprang into view as she skinned the shorts down her 
graceful, slender legs. Her tits jiggled provocatively as she walked towards 
her father. 

Charlie watched, his cock aching with anticipation, his eyes raking over her 
rounded, naked curves. She was pale flesh from tits to hips, freckled on her 
legs and arms and shoulders. The heavy waves of her dark-red hair brushed 
her shoulders. The rich redness of her pussy made his mouth water. 

Bending over, she began to unbutton her father's shirt. His hands lifted and 
fondled her heavy swaying jugs. He let her strip his shirt back, then 
recaptured her boobs when she began unfastening his belt. His thumbs brushed 
over her nipples, pressing the hard buds into her pink areolas, then letting 
them spring back. His fingers dented the soft flesh of her globes. He 
continued lifting and massaging them as she opened his fly. His cock jutted 
up sharply from his lap. 

"Stand up, Daddy," she said softly. 

He got up. She ran his pants and underpants down, then knelt in front of 
him. His cock bobbed in front of her nose as she eased his feet out of his 
clothes. Then, still on her knees, she grasped his prick and took it into 
her mouth. His hands stroked her head as she sucked on his huge tool. 

Charlie thought absently, as he lurched up out of his chair and began 
undressing hastily, that there was both a cocksucker and a mother-fucker in 
the same room. He hurled his clothes aside. 

Weak with lust, Eric sat down awkwardly. Ellen followed him, kept her mouth 
in contact with his rigid dick. On her knees, her head bobbing, she sucked 
his prick and stroked the pale shaft with her fingers. Her red curls brushed 
and tickled her father's legs as she blew him. The globes of her ass seemed 
to beckon. Charlie advanced, his towering hard-on leading the way. 

He dropped to his knees behind Ellen. She spread her legs when she sensed 
his intention. Between her round thighs he could see the red fuzz of her 
snatch. Moving up close behind her, he gripped his aching hard-on and aimed 
it into her cunt. He wriggled the bulbous knob into her box stroked it up 
and down her slit, felt her harsh pussy curls scratch him. He felt her wet, 
rippled twat petals sliding past the head of his prick. He nuzzled the tip 
of his rod into her cunt, slowly wedging her tight hole open. 

Ellen took more of her father's tool into her mouth as she felt her cunt 
being stretched by Charlie's cock. Her posture, leaning forward over her 
father's bare lap, meant that Charlie had to push both forward and upward to 
get into her cunt. 

The friction against the nerve-packed surface of Charlie's dick felt 
phenomenal. His cock oozed excitement as it bored upward, into her cunt. He 
looked down at his vanishing rod, holding onto it until his fingers were 
squeezed out of the way. 

It looked almost as if he was ramming his prick into her asshole. But he 
wasn't-the opening he was in was too wet and slippery to be a bung. He knew 
there would be a time, soon, when he would introduce Ellen to the ecstasy of 
taking a towering cock up her ass. But right now, he was sinking his prick 
in her cunt, which was just fine. He could, by leaning slightly to one side, 
watch her sucking her father's cock. 

Charlie humped his hips and felt the head of his prick hit the end of 
Ellen's cunt. His hips jammed up against her lush round butt. He grabbed her 
waist, drew his prick out, then rammed it back into her hole again. He felt 
the hot, rippled walls of her snatch slide against his knob. His balls 
knotted up against his body in anticipation. 

Reaching around in front of Ellen, who continued to bob her head up and down 
on her father's prick, Charlie grasped one of her lush boobs. He also began 
exploring the upper end of her puffy slit. He felt where the rock-hard 
column of his cock entered her hole and tried to squeeze a finger in beside 
it, but her cunt was too tight. So he contented himself with squishing his 
fingers around in the pulpy folds of her pussy, and rolling the little pea 
of her clitoris against her pubic bone. 

Ellen whimpered thickly around the prick in her mouth, and drove her head 
down even harder. Charlie saw she was taking two-thirds or more of the huge 
dong into her mouth. He saw her cheeks cave in as she sucked on the mammoth 
rod. He saw her jaw working as she massaged her father's prick with her 
tongue. Her throat working, she swallowed the saliva flooding her ravenous 
mouth. 

She lifted her head, and more of her father's prick slid into view. It 
gleamed with spit, throbbed with power. The veins were distended with lust. 
She pushed her head back down, and the pale column slid out of sight, slid 
in between her working lips. Her nose was almost touching her father's 
light-red crotch bush. His flat belly muscles rippled as he watched his 
daughter suck his cock. He stroked her hair with gentle, fatherly hands. 

Charlie's coming was drawing closer. He pumped his cock in Ellen's hot cunt. 
The unusual angle stimulated his cock more than it had ever been, except 
when it was fucking his mother's asshole. The sight of Ellen eagerly sucking 
her father's cock and the erotic softness of the tit in his hand sent his 
lust soaring to the flash point. He did his best to hold back, hoping that 
her father would come soon, would pour his load down her throat. Eric's hips 
were moving, shifting, thrusting, driving his dick up into his daughter's 
face. His body was shuddering on the brink of an orgasm. "Soon, baby," he 
told his daughter. "Soon!" Ellen nodded her acknowledgement and increased 
the suction on his prick. "Going to come," Charlie said, slamming his prick 
into her streaming pussy. His hips crashed against her butt. "Going to 
come!" 

"Suck it!" Eric hissed at his daughter, pushing her head down on his 
enormous dong. 

"Fuck!" Charlie' grunted, plowing into her clinging cunt as hard as he 
could. 

"Suck!" Eric snorted, heaving his hips upward sharply. 

"Fuck!" "Suck!" "FUCK!" "SUCK!" "FUCKSUCK!" the two of them chanted. 

"FUCK!" The words erupted from their throats at exactly the same moment. 
Eric's hips heaved up and he held his daughter's face down on his recoiling, 
convulsing prick. Charlie slammed his cock into her pussy so hard her knees 
lifted off the floor. His groin clenched like a fist. A blistering jet of 
sperm blasted from his nuts into her searing cunt. 

Spitted on two cocks, Ellen writhed, sucked and swallowed. Her cunt 
spasming, she took a double load of thick fuck juice-one in her mouth and 
one in her twitching cunt. Charlie kept her suspended on his spurting rod, 
and watched Eric's prick jerking and jetting in her mouth. Ellen's entire 
body shuddered as she climaxed. Her tits shivered, her rounded belly 
convulsed and heaved as the blush of her orgasm covered her pale flesh. 

Overwhelmed by her father's huge load, Ellen choked. She pulled upward, and 
her nostrils flared as she sucked in air. A creamy wave of cum oozed down 
Eric's still-jerking shaft and pooled against the fingers Ellen had around 
his prick. Charlie felt Ellen's cunt clench, relax, and then clench again, 
wringing the last dribbles of jizz from his young balls. 

Ellen smeared the overflowing sperm up her father's cock with her fingers, 
squeezed the thick jizz up to her mouth. She sucked it in, then carefully 
cleaned his cock. She slurped up the fuck juice with Epicurean gusto and 
swallowed it. The sight of her eating her father's sperm drew one last 
wringing convulsion from Charlie's prick. Then, leaving its own gooey load 
behind, it began to shrink. 

Charlie sat back. His dick dribbled out of Ellen's flooded cunt and flopped 
soggily down onto his drained balls. Ellen rested her cheek on her father's 
hairy thigh. Her mouth was an inch from his glistening, shrinking prick. 
Pursing her lips, she kissed the purplish knob lovingly. Her father patted 
her cheek and hair tenderly. 

"Oh, Daddy, I love you," Ellen purred. She looked at Charlie. "I love you, 
too, Charlie. Can I love both of you at the same time?" "I don't see why 
not," Eric told her. 

"Seems to me you just did," Charlie pointed out. 

"There are other ways, though. Let's take her in the bedroom and show her a 
few," Eric suggested. 

The three of them jostled and bumped down the hall in a tight, naked, erotic 
tangle. Ellen stretched out on her back in the middle of the huge bed. Eric 
and Charlie lay down on either side of her. 

She lay there, her hair framing her delicate young face. When her eyes 
closed, Charlie and Eric began playing with her tits. Her chest rose and 
fell evenly, almost as if she were asleep. They thumbed the pert nubbins of 
her pink tits. They pinched and tweaked her nipples, rolled them between 
their fingers, pulled on them, lifted the lush mounds of her boobs. 

Ellen's expression was an absentminded smile of sensuous pleasure. Charlie 
leaned forward and closed his lips on the rubbery end of her boob. He sucked 
on her jug the way he had sucked on his mother's when he was a baby. Eric 
Jameson did the same thing to Ellen's other tit, sucked and nursed on her as 
if she were his mother rather than his daughter. 

Ellen's voluptuous torso shuddered and heaved as her lust built higher and 
higher. Her lips parted. Her fingers scratched blindly at the bedspread, 
tried to get a grip on it. 

Eric slid one hand up his daughter's thigh and touched her hairy, pouting 
cuntlips. Charlie followed suit, stroked up the sleek, smooth, warm expanse 
of her other thigh and probed into her shielding muff. His fingers touched 
Eric's. 

Ellen's legs slid apart. She exposed her pussy to their touch.. Her hips 
shifted and rolled as the two men fondled her steaming, cum-damp box. 
Spreading her cuntlips, Charlie slid his fingers into her slit. Eric quickly 
followed. Their fingers tangled as they groped through her inner petals of 
pussy flesh. Then they competed for the hooded pearl of her clit, teasing it 
back and forth. 

Ellen began to whimper from the seating stimulation. Her boobs heaved 
against their still-sucking mouths. They sucked on her nipples, drew them 
deep into their mouths, rasped their tongues over the nerve-loaded buds. She 
squirmed delightedly under their dual ministrations. 

Charlie felt Eric retreating and lifted his head to see what was happening. 
Without a word, Eric Jameson moved down his daughter's body, then eased his 
hand out of her cunt. Kneeling between her spread legs, he lowered his mouth 
to her red-haired pussy. After parting her cuntlips carefully with his 
fingers, he raped his tongue into her streaming crack. Ellen heaved insanely 
at the incredible stimulation. 

Then Ellen's passion-loosened mouth caught Charlie's attention. He struggled 
up onto his knees, and moved one leg over her tossing torso. Straddling her, 
he scrambled upward, his half-hard cock swaying over her bare chest, her 
throat, and then her chin. Ellen tipped her head downward, and licked 
Charlie's prick. A hot rush of blood flooded his tool. 

As her cunt was eaten out by her father, Ellen sucked and licked Charlie's 
prick back to life. He took his cock by its base and held it over her mouth, 
bumping her nose with its tip when she licked the underside. Then he angled 
his rod down, watched her take the rounded knob into her working mouth. As 
she slurped at Charlie's slowly distending cock, her hips heaved in response 
to what her father's mouth was doing to her clit. She whined around the bulk 
of Charlie's cock. 

Charlie jacked the half-hard length of his prick as Ellen bathed its head 
with her mouth. He loved the sight of her being degraded with the bulk of 
his tool, loved her expression as she allowed him to stuff his cock into her 
mouth. The jizz left in his prick from their earlier fucking spurted into 
her working mouth. 

Behind him, Charlie could feel Ellen's hips heaving and bouncing on the bed 
as her cunt was devoured by her father. Charlie was practically sitting on 
her boobs as he fed her his prick. There was a shifting behind him. Charlie 
glanced at the mirrored closet door. Eric had removed his face from between 
his daughter's thighs. His chin and cheeks were glistening with her twat 
juice. Hooking his hands under her thighs, he lifted her legs, raised her 
hips off the bed, then moved forward. His fully erect cock was a bobbing, 
weaving lance as he moved upward. 

Holding her hips up off the bed with his hands, he aimed his cock and 
plunged it full depth into her streaming pink hole. Charlie's cock hardened 
as he watched Eric gore his daughter's pussy. Ellen's lips closed around 
Charlie's dick as she was crammed full of her father's dang. She sucked, 
drawing a thick wave of blood into Charlie's rod: She folded her legs 
double, and straddled Charlie, so that her father could penetrate her cunt 
even more deeply. Charlie hooked his hands behind her head and pulled up, so 
he could more effectively ream her mouth with his erect prick. 

Curled into a knot, Ellen willingly accepted the brutal dual penetration of 
her body. She welcomed the cocks being thrust into her, and sucked and drew 
on Charlie's rod as her father pistoned his dick in her pussy. The cock in 
her mouth had recently come in her cunt, and Charlie was not about to reach 
his peak quickly. He felt free to enjoy the exquisite pleasure of having 
lips and tongue bathe his prick without having to worry about how soon he 
was going to unload down her throat. 

Eric Jameson's staying power was evidently going to be just about as great 
as Charlie's. The man was energetically slamming his prick into his 
daughter's snatch. His body jolted hers so hard Charlie could feel it in her 
mouth. He was a little afraid she might by mistake slam her jaw shut on his 
prick. Ellen's legs kicked and waved as she was fucked by her father. If the 
awkwardly curled position she was in was bothering her, she gave no sign of 
it. Her nose flared as she breathed, Charlie's prick totally stuffing her 
mouth. He manipulated her head so her mouth moved up and down his cock in a 
flicking motion. 

He was startled when Ellen opened her eyes and looked up at him. She still 
had his cock in her mouth. Skinning her lips back over her teeth, she 
touched his rod with them for a moment, then grinned lewdly, and resumed 
sucking his prick, resumed stroking it with her tongue. Obviously, she was 
enjoying the exhibitionistic aspect of the situation as much as the physical 
aspect. Her eyes closed slowly and her face went slack as she was ravaged by 
an orgasm. She sucked even harder on Charlie's cock. 

Eric was panting and grunting as he pounded his cock into her cunt. "Going 
to do it," he grunted. "Going to do it, do it. Oh, yeah!" Charlie felt 
Ellen's body jerk, then felt Eric straining against her as he poured his 
jizz into her spasming cunt. Ellen sucked on Charlie's cock so hard it 
tingled from having so much blood drawn into it. But he wasn't going to come 
in her mouth. He waited patiently while the jerking of Eric's orgasm and 
Ellen's come faded, then extracted his distended dick from her lips. 

Letting her head drop back onto the bed, he grabbed a pillow and awkwardly 
crab walked down from her face. He pushed Eric away. Then, folding Ellen's 
legs so they were doubled up against her chest, he lifted her butt off the 
bed and eased the pillow under her. He had a striking view of her pussy. It 
was inflamed and soaked with cum. Bending his rigid cock downward, he drove 
it deep into her dripping, slippery pink hole. Ellen whined softly from the 
suddenness of the assault. 

But it was not his primary target. He had another one in mind. She had a 
tighter, more clinging hole he wanted to fuck his aching hard-on into. It 
was already lubricated by the copious juices streaming down from her pussy. 
His cock slippery with cum, he withdrew it from her cunt and moved it still 
lower, set it against the brown pucker of her asshole. 

"Ohhhhh," Ellen whined as he pressed the lip of his prick against her bung. 

Eric Jameson had been watching tensely. He lurched at her mournful wail, and 
Charlie thought Eric was going to try to stop the buggering. 

"Ellen?" Eric asked his daughter. 

"It's-all right, Daddy," she whispered. "Ooh, God, it's good." Charlie 
pushed inward, watching the head of his prick slowly force its way into her 
tight shitter. The muscular ring dilated as he increased the pressure. He 
gripped his cock with his fist to stiffen it. 

Her breath tearing her throat, Ellen took it. Her asshole flared red, then 
white, then red again as she battled to let Charlie's cock enter her bung. 
Her head rolling from side to side, she shuddered with pleasure. Her asshole 
was being ravaged by his prod. 

Half of Charlie's knob was in her butt now. The bulb of his prick was 
burning from the friction. It was pinched and misshapen by the pressure of 
her resisting bung. Frowning with concentration, he leaned harder on his 
dick and watched it bore slowly into her guts. Two-thirds of his knob was in 
her ass, then three-fourths. The entrance became easier as the curvature of 
his cockhead changed. Then he felt the ring of her asshole slip into the 
groove behind his knob, and the whole tip vanished into her butt. 

"God!"" Ellen screeched. 

Charlie drove the shaft of his prick slowly up into her bowels. His cock 
skin wrinkled from the friction as he drilled into her tight asshole. He 
could feel a stretching and tugging near his cockhead. It was a delectable 
stinging feeling. It felt as if the slit at the tip of his dick was being 
tugged open as he pistoned it up into her butt. 

"Sodomy," Eric Jameson muttered. 

"Don't bother me with details," Ellen moaned. "Oh, Daddy, it feels so good. 
Daddy, don't let him stop. Don't let him stop." "I won't, baby. If it's what 
you want, I'll see that you get it." "Let me suck you, Daddy," Ellen 
whispered hoarsely. "Let me suck your cock and get it hard so you can do if, 
too." Before Charlie had his cock halfway into Ellen's butt, she was sucking 
her father's prick, preparing him for the same act. Charlie felt her bung 
spasming around his tool as he forced his way up into her guts. He watched 
his shaft vanish into her ass, then settled his hips against her taut butt 
and rested for a moment. With her legs spread, doubled up against her torso, 
her cunt was a vivid gash. Charlie touched her twat lips, probed her cunt, 
stirred his fingers in her dripping pussy. He drew his cock out of her butt, 
then rammed it back in. The inside of her ass felt like greasy velvet, hot 
greasy velvet. He stroked the inflamed length of his prick into her clinging 
bung. 

Eric had his back to Charlie, was straddling Ellen's chest the same way 
Charlie had earlier. Glancing in the mirror, Charlie saw that Eric's dong 
was stiffening quickly. It would soon be stiff enough to ream her butt out. 

It was just as well. Charlie was about to come. He humped his dick into her 
clinging asshole. Drawing back, he felt the skin of his cock pull on the 
base of his organ. Driving back into her butt, he felt the skin tug on the 
tip of his prick. The nerve-patch on the underside was almost at the flash 
point from the exquisite friction of her tight shitter. The cum in his balls 
was seething impatiently as he buggered the girl ravenously. He pumped in 
her asshole again, and felt his nuts haul up tight, cock themselves for the 
eruption. He drew out and felt his whole body knot. Then he flicked back 
into her asshole and began hosing her bowels with steaming jizz. He was 
pumping against an exquisite back pressure never found in a cunt. His sperm 
spurted into her ass in thick, heavy gobs, his muscles aching delectably as 
they strained to unload every drop of his creamy spunk into her clinging 
butt. 

He was a searing tower of pure ecstasy. His whole body knotted, every muscle 
helped. Charlie clung to his pleasure for as long as he could. Finally, he 
fell back away from her. His tool lost strength and the pulsing of her 
asshole drove it out. 

He fell back onto the bed, and rolled to one side. Then he watched as Eric 
Jameson aimed his saliva-slicked cock into Ellen's oozing bung, and filled 
her ass with his big dong. Charlie watched, exhausted, as Ellen welcomed her 
father's buggering tool into her guts. Charlie remembered he had cornholed 
his own mother, and reflected that incestuous ass-tucking was getting to be 
a pretty common occurrence. 

Wrapping her arms around her thighs, Ellen folded herself into a tight ball 
so her father could get his cock balls deep in her ass. She shuddered in the 
throes of an overwhelming orgasm, her body burning with lust, gleaming with 
sweat. Her father pounded his prick into her ass furiously. 

It all happened so quickly! One minute Eric was easing his prick into 
Ellen's bung, and then she was coming. Now he was leaning hard against her. 
His buttcheeks knotting, he pumped jizz into her twitching asshole. She 
thrashed wildly, her legs quivering and jumping as she was consumed by the 
unholy orgasm. 

Eric leaned on his daughter for a long time, then pulled back. His cock 
slithered out of her well-fucked shitter. Her abused muscle contracted 
reluctantly, a pearly driblet of sperm oozing from the puckering bung as it 
sealed herself. Ellen straightened her legs and stretched out on her back on 
the bed. She was breathing heavily, and her face was beaded with sweat. 

"I hurt," she announced softly. 

Eric got up and went into the bathroom. He returned with a tube of 
hemorrhoid medicine. "Roll over, honey," he said softly. 

Weakly, Ellen obeyed. He covered her abused asshole with the anesthetic 
cream. 

"Think we hurt her inside?" Charlie asked nervously. 

Eric shook his head. "No, but we'd better let her rest." "I've got to get 
home anyway," Charlie noted, glancing at the clock. 

"Welcome to the family," Eric said, after seeing Charlie to the door. 

"Thanks," Charlie replied. He felt a warm affection for the other man. 

Deliciously exhausted, he started home, hoping his mother didn't have any 
erotic plans for the next day or so. 

Chapter Seven Charlie slouched on the sofa, disgusted and puzzled. What had 
happened made no sense at all. After his spanking, he had thought everything 
was fine. But, in the past week, nothing had happened. Less than nothing, in 
fact. His mother had been deliberately avoiding him. Maybe it was that time 
of the month for her? Tonight she had thrown him out of her worn. Well, not 
actually out of her room. He had walked by and her door had been open. She 
had been getting dressed, and he had stopped in the doorway for a moment. 
She had grabbed something and held it in front of herself, then stamped 
angrily over to the door and chewed him out for "spying" on her. Then she 
slammed the door in his face. 

Now she was out on a date with some character named Ross. He looked like a 
real jerk-pudgy and balding with pursed lips and a pink face. She could have 
gone out with Eric Jameson. He was tall and strong and handsome, and looked 
like a Viking. Instead she was out with a jerk. 

Charlie wanted to talk with someone, but Ellen wasn't home. Had she and her 
father gone out someplace? The thought that they might be screwing added to 
Charlie's misery. 

He reflected that there was one good thing, at least. He hadn't had a chance 
to tell Carla about 

Eric and Ellen's incest. From the way his mother was acting, there probably 
would have been hell to pay if he had told her. For some strange reason, she 
had slammed her mind shut. Charlie muttered vulgarities to himself. 

The phone rang, making him jump a foot. He picked up the receiver, and 
growled into it. 

"Charlie? It's me, Ann." "Oh, hi," Charlie said sourly. 

"Are you doing anything?" she asked hesitantly. "What's the matter, Pete 
stand you up?" "Yeah. His stupid car broke down clear out in Calabassas or 
someplace?" "Leaving you all alone and lonely," Charlie taunted. 

"Well, yeah," she agreed unhappily. "And horny," she added. 

"Oh?" Charlie's interest picked up. 

"And I thought, maybe, if you weren't doing anything, maybe like you and I 
could... do something. For old time's sake," Ann stammered awkwardly. 

"Well, yes," he agreed, "maybe we could." "Mom and Dad'll be home in fifteen 
minutes, so you can't come over here. I've got to get out before they get 
back or they'll third-degree me, Ann said. 

"You come over here, then," Charlie said. "Mom's out on a date, won't be 
home for hours." "Okay," Ann agreed. "Should I bring anything?" "Just 
yourself." "See you in ten minutes." "Yeah." Charlie hung up, his gloomy 
mood dissipated as he contemplated what lay ahead. He began thinking about 
Ann's slender, petite body and her tight, wet cunt. It seemed, also, a good 
way of getting back at Ellen. 

Ann made it in less than ten minutes. Charlie opened the door and eyed her 
curiously. "What's with the coat? Cripes, it's roasting out." "Well, you 
told me to bring just myself," she chirped impishly. "So I did. But I didn't 
want to get arrested on the way over here." She opened her coat and let it 
drop to the floor. She was stark naked. Her little nipples were rock-hard. 
Her pussy looked neat and fuzzy, as if she had combed it. 

"You walked over here with nothing on under that coat?" Charlie asked, 
astonished. 

"Uh-huh!" Ann giggled. "It's far-out. You should try it." Charlie stooped 
and picked up her coat and hung it in the closet. "Huh! I'd get a hard-on in 
ten seconds. It'd look like I had a pole in my crotch." Ann giggled again 
and pointed. "Like the way you are now?" "That's your fault," Charlie 
replied, closing the closet. 

Ann grinned, and struck a pose that showed off her graceful body, her gentle 
curves, the slight mounds of her titties. She had the build of a gymnast. 
"You're overdressed." She sniffed theatrically. 

"Yeah, well, have a seat, and I'll be with you in a minute" Charlie told 
her. In his room, he undressed leisurely, tossing his clothes on his bed. 
Except for the hot knot in his groin, he felt calm and cool. 

"This better?" he asked her when he returned to the living room. He stood in 
front of the couch, his prick pointing straight at her. 

"Much," she answered, reaching out and stroking the underside of his 
hard-on. "You look good enough to eat, in fact." "Be my guest." He stood 
with his hands on his hips, his cock bobbing in -response to her stroking. 

Edging forward on the couch, Ann opened her mouth, and embraced the head of 
his prick with her lips, stroked it with her tongue. Then she pulled slowly 
back, sliding his cock out of her clinging mouth. 

"Yum!" she said, smacking her lips, swallowing his first hot drizzle. 

Charlie gazed down at her as she leaned forward, taking more of his rigid 
tool into her mouth this time. He felt her tongue stroking the underside of 
his dick, felt his glands responding, felt his nuts draw up tight with 
tension. 

Ann pulled back, and spit his cock out. He felt her saliva drying on his 
burning rod as she smacked her lips again. She was sitting with her knees 
primly together so her pussy was just a tight fuzzy triangle between her 
clenched thighs. Her tits were stiff and alert with excitement. If she 
hadn't been nude, and sucking a cock, she might have been at a tea party. 

Charlie arched, and thrust his hips forward. His knees braced against the 
couch, he straddled her legs. His cock poked her in the face. She opened her 
mouth and took his meat yet again, let it slide to the back of her mouth. 
Her eyes closed as she took it down her throat. Her jaw was forced wide open 
by the bulk of his rod. Her lips circled his steaming prick, were a living 
ring around his tower. Her velvety tongue stroked the vein on the underside 
of his shaft, drawing hot driblets from his pouting cum-slit. His, groin 
suddenly ached with the urge to piss. The urge was quickly quenched by a 
sharp increase in his sexual arousal at the thought of peeing on her. 

Ann slid her hand up under his balls and fondled them gently as she pumped 
her head back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of her sucking mouth. 
He felt the tip of his prick wedge into the back of her mouth, between the 
base of her tongue and her soft palate. Cupping his nuts in her hand, she 
blew him slowly and carefully, taking as much of his cock into her mouth as 
she could without gagging. 

For a moment, Charlie tipped his head back, and concentrated on the 
exquisite feeling of her mouth on his seething dong. Then he discovered that 
watching her take his cock in her mouth accounted for half the pleasure of 
the blow job. He looked down at her as his bulky cockshaft entered her 
mouth. He debated for a moment grasping her head and forcing her to take 
more of his tool, then discarded the idea. The sight of her eating him so 
willingly was a thrill, a testament to his power over her. He didn't have to 
force her to suck his cock. 

His prostate was knotting tighter as his excitement grew. He hadn't gotten 
his rocks off in a week. Instead of jacking off, he had been saving it all 
for his mother. He was on a hair-trigger, and Ann's skillful cocksucking was 
rapidly bringing him to the explosion point. 

She felt him reach the threshold of his orgasm, and drew back. Charlie's 
cock and balls throbbed on the brink of a climax. 

"Uh-uh," Ann told his prick, waving a finger at the pulsing shaft. "Not 
yet." If it hadn't felt so great to be brought to the peak and then left 
hanging there, Charlie would have been angry. But he knew that she would 
take his load when it came, and that because she was tantalizing him this 
way his final come would be hotter and better than ever. So, Charlie thought 
of other things, and dropped back from the brink of I his orgasm. His prick 
even softened slightly. Then Ann's mouth embraced his tool again, and blood 
rushed back into it. It stiffened and swelled sharply. 

The urge to pee got stronger, then faded in the face of his renewed sexual 
arousal. From experience, Charlie knew that a full bladder added a crazy 
note to his orgasm, a sort of a pain, as his body unloaded one fluid while 
retaining the other. 

Ann's head bobbed, back and forth, back and forth, and Charlie rose to the 
edge of the precipice again. And again she drew back, left him there, right 
on the verge of spurting into her face. She waited until his cock shrank a 
little, then took it into her mouth yet again. Spitting his prick out, she 
looked up at him for a brief second. "All the way, this time," she assured 
him, squeezing his balls gently. "All the way." Charlie just looked at her 
as she took his dick into her mouth again. He felt hot blood pounding into 
his shaft. He felt his knob sting as she sucked on it hard. He felt her 
tongue massage the underside of his rod. He saw her push her head forward. 
His cock slid clear to the back of her mouth. 

Pressing her tongue firmly against the underside of his dick, she moved her 
head back and forth slowly. The warmth from her hand cupping his nuts made 
the jizz soften and flow like hot wax. It pooled, readied itself for the 
eruption. Her fingers tickled and teased the insides of his thighs, the 
sensitive curve of his butt near his asshole, the ridge behind his balls. 
Charlie shuddered on the jagged edge of an orgasm, fought to hold it off for 
as long as he could. Ann sent him gently over the edge by touching one 
fingernail to his asshole. It was like puffing a match to the flash hole of 
a cannon. Charlie's balls convulsed and a hot ball of cum blasted down the 
barrel of his prick, and slammed into the back of Ann's throat. 

A barrage of jizz followed. Gob after thick gob spurted into Ann's mouth, 
overwhelmed her swallowing. Hot fuck cream pooled in her mouth as his prick 
lurched and recoiled, adding to the already huge puddle. She swallowed, and 
the pressing, stroking motion of her tongue against his prick triggered a 
new series of convulsions and still more cum. Finally, Charlie's body went 
into dry carnal heaves. His groin was one delicious ache. 

Ann spit out his withering cock and sat back on the couch. She wiped the 
overflow of saliva and jizz off her mouth and chin with the back of her 
hand, then looked up at Charlie, obviously pleased with her performance. 

His legs shaking, Charlie sat down in a nearby chair. "Thanks." "Aren't you 
going to do the same for me?" she demanded. 

Charlie shrugged. "If you'd like." "Of course I'd like it," she said 
quickly, getting to her feet. With a graceful, lithe motion, she stepped up 
onto the arms of the easy chair. She leaned forward, and steadied her hands 
on the back of it. Her crotch gaped wide open in front of him. He could see 
the pale skin of her cuntlips through her curling brown hair. He could see 
her dark slit between her bulging labes. A ruffle of pink inner tissues 
protruded shyly. 

She arched her back. Her pussy moved towards his face. She bent her knees, 
lowered her cunt to his mouth flapped in the chair, Charlie watched her twat 
approach. He wasn't unwilling to bring her off with his lips and tongue, but 
he wasn't exactly anxious to lap her cunt, either. He still needed to go to 
the bathroom, but it hardly seemed the time to bring it up. 

Reaching out, he guided Ann's snatch to. his mouth, then combed apart the 
twisting curls of her bush, revealed her cuntlips and complex inner folds of 
rosy flesh. Her cunt hole, surrounded by the petals of her twat lips, looked 
like the heart of a flower. Above that, also framed by her twat lips, was 
the tight hole of her pisser. Highest, where her twat lips came together in 
an inverted vee, was the pearly bump of her clitoris. She lowered her crotch 
on his face, and he pressed his lips and nose into her fragrant pussy flesh. 
He speared his tongue into her hole, and felt her thigh muscles spasm from 
the stimulation. 

For a moment he sucked up her slippery, metallic flow. Then, angling his 
head back, he groped for the sensitive bud of her clit. He had no intention 
of tormenting her the way she had tormented him. His aim was to bring her 
off as quickly as he could, before he pissed all over the chair. 

His tongue stroked up her furrow, between her hot, slippery inner labes, and 
rasped the nubbin of her clit. Ann shuddered from the unexpected stimulation 
of her nerve center. Charlie skinned back the hood protecting her mini-cock, 
grasped the bump between his lips and sucked on it, drew its stalk tight. 

"Awww!" Ann moaned hoarsely. 

Charlie ignored her. Pinching the shaft of her clit with his lips, he 
mangled the nerve-packed tip with his tongue, pressed it with his lips, 
rolled it back and forth. He tortured her every way he could think of. 

Ann shuddered in reaction to the oral stimulation. Her slender body writhed 
as she was cremated with lust, as she was gored by the stake of desire being 
driven slowly up through the center of her body. The muscles in her slender, 
athletic legs bunched and trembled. Her chest heaved as she panted. Her 
small titties rose and fell sharply. Her nipples were rock-hard. The fronts 
of her thighs and her knees were braced against the back of the chair. She 
squatted on Charlie's face, then began pinching and rolling her own tits. 

"Gah-gah-God!" she moaned. "Awww shit! AAWWWW!" Charlie felt her shuddering 
in the grip of her come, felt her hot, sticky juices flood down over his 
chin where it was burrowed into her cunt. He kept sucking and chewing on her 
clitoris until her trembling faded, and she went limp. Then he released her 
cut and pushed her off his face so he could breathe. 

"Ahhh," Ann sighed, sinking down, straddling his strong, hairy thighs. Her 
juicy wet pussy was gaping open. "Oh, Charlie, you're something else!" 
Charlie caught his breath. He could feel her cunt juice drying on his face. 
The need to piss had become actual physical pain. 

"I gotta take a leak," he announced, urging her up off his lap. She got up. 
He ran to the powder room that opened off the living room. He was just about 
to unleash the flood into the toilet when the door was jerked open and Ann 
cannon balled into him, knocking him off balance. She pulled the door shut 
quickly behind herself. 

Charlie thought he was going to die with the pain. "What the hell are you 
doing here?" he demanded. "Get out." "Your mother," Ann whispered urgently. 

"What?" "Your mother and some creepy-looking guy are coming up the walk!" 
Ann whispered. 

"Aww, Jesus! I gotta go!" Charlie moaned, and, not able to control it any 
longer, he went, while Ann looked on. The relief was superb. It bordered on 
the orgasmic it felt so wonderful. 

"Sorry," he apologized. 

"That's all right," Ann assured him absently. "But what are we going to do, 
Charlie?" Charlie shook his head. "What can we do? Stay in here until the 
coast is clear." Considering the way his mother had been earlier in the day, 
he didn't think she would be exactly pleased if he suddenly appeared naked, 
with a naked girl in tow. 

"I need to pee, too," Ann said suddenly. "Now?" "Now." "Oh, for God's sake!" 
"Well, I'm sorry." "I can't go out there," he pointed out. 

"I know, I know. I don't mind, I guess. I mean, you went while I was here, 
after all. Move over." There was an awkward shuffle as they exchanged places 
in the tiny room. Charlie leaned back against the sink as Ann lowered the 
toilet seat and sat down. He tried not to watch, but couldn't stop himself. 
He stared as she spread her cuntlips with her fingers. A neat stream of pee 
spurted out. She grinned up at him, evidently not the least upset huh?" she 
asked. 

"Kinky," he agreed. He found the sight of her pissing strangely erotic. 

"Sexy," she added, as she daintily wiped her twat. 

Charlie pressed an ear to the door and listened intently. 

"What's happening?" Ann asked. 

"Don't flush!" Charlie hissed when she reached for the handle of the toilet. 

"Sorry. What's happening?" Charlie shook his head. "Can't hear anything." 
"Is there any way we can look?" Ann asked. 

Charlie started to shake his head, then realized there was. "Yeah, there is. 
Got a knife?" Ann stared at him. "Now where would I have a knife?" "Only one 
place I can think of," Charlie joked. "Never mind, this'll do." He had found 
a nail file in the medicine cabinet. Carefully, he pried on a spot near the 
edge of the door. "This thing was always coming loose. Dad had to pound it 
back. I guess he thought I was going to spy on our guests, or something." 
Charlie's deft work opened a narrow crack. He put his eye to it and blinked. 
The couch was in line with the narrow slit, and his mother and her date, 
Ross Caldwell, were sitting there. 

"Let me see," Ann whispered, wriggling in under him and putting her eye to 
the crack, too. "Who's the drip?" "Ross Caldwell." "He's a real creep," Ann 
observed. "Look at him sweat. Wonder what your mom's doing to make him sweat 
like that?" Charlie shook his head. His mother was turned towards her date, 
and her hands were doing something in front of her that Charlie couldn't 
see. Then she stripped off her blouse, and Charlie gulped. She was 
undressing! And she wasn't wearing a bra, either! "Far-out!" Ann whispered, 
her voice breathy with excitement. "How far do you think they'll go?" 
Charlie wasn't breathing. His cock was hardening at the sight of his mother 
half-naked with a man. When she stood up and began unfastening her skirt, 
Charlie gulped. Carla let her skirt drop. She was naked under it, too! 
Charlie couldn't believe it. She had gone out with this guy, a stranger, 
with no underwear on at all. And now she was stripping. The fat slob was 
sweating like a pig. 

Charlie watched his mother strut up and down in front of Ross Caldwell. She 
was showing off shamelessly. Sliding her hands up, she fondled her tits, 
thumbed her dark, conical nipples. She was arousing herself, and arousing 
the man in front of her. There was a visible bulge in his trousers. He was 
licking his lips nervously. 

Carla bent forward and unzipped the man's fly. Her jugs swayed heavily. His 
prick lurched free, hitting one. His cock was thick and short and 
uncircumcised. The foreskin slid slowly back to expose the dusky knob. Still 
leaning over, Carla stroked his stubby prick tenderly. Incredibly, the man 
made no move to undress himself, or to touch her blatantly offered boobs or 
pussy or thighs. His faded blue eyes picked out first one erotic feature of 
her nudity, and then another, but his hands didn't move, just lay inertly on 
the sofa beside him. 

Straightening up, Carla played with herself provocatively. She fondled her 
tits, pressed the soft warm flesh, tweaked her nipples. Then she slid her 
hands down her torso, down her belly, and into her pussy. Charlie couldn't 
see what she was doing, but was certain the man on the sofa could. 

Charlie's cock hardened, nudged Ann in the back. She squirmed, and his prick 
slid up along her backbone. Charlie pressed his hips forward, and pinched 
his cock between his belly and Ann's back. He didn't take his eyes from the 
crack. His forehead was beginning to hurt, he was leaning against the door 
so hard. 

Carla lifted one foot to the sofa, unknowingly giving Charlie and Ann an 
unobstructed view of her pussy. It also exposed her to the man in front of 
her. He was dripping with sweat now. She thrust her pussy at him and fondled 
it. 

Charlie moved, began sliding his cock up and down Ann's back as he watched 
his mother humiliate her date. Carla was probing her cunt with her fingers. 
She drove one finger straight up into her snatch, drew it out, sucked it, 
and then slid it back up into her seething hole. Then she presented her 
drenched finger, making Ross suck her juices from it. 

Carla laughed. It was a hard, cruel laugh. She dominated the man completely! 
He was a puppet in her hands. 

"Bitch!" Ann whispered hoarsely. 

Carla stroked and probed her pussy while Ross Caldwell watched hungrily. She 
spread her cuntlips, showed him her inner folds of flesh. She diddled her 
clit as he watched. She probed one finger, then two, up into the funnel of 
her cunt, humping her hips provocatively. 

Ross started to move, started to get up. She put one hand on his face and 
shoved him roughly back down onto the couch. His cock surged higher. His 
flushed pudgy face was dripping with nervous perspiration. 

Charlie's hard-on was throbbing. He kept waiting for Ross Caldwell to lurch 
up off the couch and attack but the man just sat there and perspired. His 
one abortive effort apparently was all he was able to manage. 

Carla shuddered with excitement as she fondled her pussy. She was bringing 
herself higher and higher. The man's blunt dick was shivering in his lap. 

Suddenly, Carla had both feet on the couch and was straddling the fat slob. 
She presented her pussy to him again, thrust her hips at his face. She moved 
forward, and lowered her snatch onto his face. 

Gripping his head, she yanked his face into her crotch, then squirmed her 
hairy snatch against his mouth and nose. 

His cock swelled and pulsed. He was incredibly aroused by the oral act he 
was being forced to commit. It wasn't at all like when Charlie had eaten 
Ann, earlier. Carla was cruelly forcing her date to do something he 
obviously didn't want to do. That was the source of his arousal-what was 
getting him so excited was not the act itself, but the fact that he was 
being dominated, humiliated "Jeez, what a jerk," Ann whispered. "She's doing 
everything but shit on him, and he loves it! Wish I knew a guy like that!" 
"Well, I'm not it," Charlie told her sharply. "Oh, yeah?" Ann challenged, 
taking her eye from the crack and looking up at him. "Yeah," Charlie said 
harshly. He gripped her arm hard. He was angry for some reason, and was 
taking it out on Ann. 

"Okay, okay," she said quickly. "That hurts!" "Sorry. Now what the hell's 
she going to do?" Charlie asked, watching his mother again. Carla had 
finished scrubbing her pussy on the man's face and pulled back. Her juices 
were smeared all over his cheeks and jaw. He looked both bewildered and 
happy. 

"Kiss my ass," Carla said softly. 

Finally, Ross Caldwell's eyes came to life. He licked his lips, and nodded 
tensely. 

Carla laughed cruelly and turned her back on him. Looking over her shoulder, 
she wiggled her lush, round butt in his face. She reached back and stroked 
the pale cheeks of her ass. She parted them, thrust her ass at Ross 
Caldwell's face. 

For the first time, he used his hands! He reached up and tenderly stroked 
her butt. Then he spread her asscheeks with his fingers, and pressed his 
face into the crack. His lips were working eagerly. He looked like a kissing 
fish. He pulled back a moment, then stuck his tongue out and plunged it into 
the crack of Carla's ass. He licked her tail, bored into it until his lips 
and tongue were buried. 

"Jesus!" Ann snorted. "That's sexy!" "Yeah," Charlie agreed. 

"God, that's got me horny! Wish we could join me." "If you'll be quiet, I 
can slip it to you while we watch," Charlie told her. 

"No problem," Ann assured him. 

"Not where I'm going to give it to you." Charlie chuckled softly. 

"What do you mean?" Ann asked fearfully, glancing up at him. 

"Up your ass," Charlie answered, taking a jar of petroleum jelly out of the 
medicine cabinet. 

"You-wouldn't," Ann whispered. She was both afraid and excited by the 
thought of getting cornholed. 

"Right where that ass-kisser is sucking my mother," Charlie assured Ann. 
"Bend over and watch." Ann shivered, but did as he ordered. Bending sharply 
at the waist, she put her eye to the crack again. 

Charlie took a gob of lubricant on his fingers and smeared it up and down 
the crack of Ann's ass, probing her roughly, but not cruelly. "What are they 
doing?" "He's still eating her butt," Ann whispered. "Jesus, that must feel 
fantastic!" Charlie smiled, and greased his prick. "Yeah, well, maybe 
someday Pete'll show you how it feels. Right now, you're going to feel 
something a lot different." Carefully, he set the petroleum jelly aside. He 
placed the tip of his prick on the crack of her ass and nuzzled it in 
between her buns. "Jesus!" she whispered. 

Charlie clamped his hand over her mouth. "Quiet." He put his eye to the 
crack in the door to see if anyone had heard her. 

Carla was leaning forward. She had her hands on her knees. Her ass was 
firmly against Ross Caldwell's face. Holding her tightly by the hips, he 
burrowed his face into her ass. His cock was as big as it was going to get. 
It was a preposterously short, thick rod jutting up through his open fly. 
His hips were shifting and humping restlessly as he ate Carla's ass. 

Keeping his hand over Ann's mouth, Charlie began driving his cock into her 
tight, resisting bung. He felt her squirming, felt her ring yield very 
slowly to his boring, driving dick. She whined softly into his muffling hand 
as his prick entered her butt. She was still watching the lewd scene on the 
couch as a cock was driven up her ass. 

His cock burning, Charlie bored into Ann's shitter. His excitement flared 
when he put his eye to the crack again, and watched his mother have her ass 
kissed by Ross Caldwell. Charlie silenced the whimpers of the girl he was 
buggering and drove his prick deeper into her bowels. Her greasy bung almost 
seemed to suck his cock in near the end. He drove the full length of his 
towering rod into her butt. Her tongue lapped sensuously on the palm of his 
silencing hand. 

Ross Caldwell was working harder than ever on Carla's ass. He was hauling 
back on her hips with his hands. It looked as if he wanted to smother in her 
buttcheeks. His jaw working, he ate her ass feverishly. Carla's belly was 
shuddering with pleasure. Her tits were quivering. A drop of saliva drooled 
from her passion-loosened mouth and spotted the man's trousers. She reached 
down and began to play with his stubby dick, began to jack his blunt rod. 
She pushed the foreskin up and down, up and over the purple knob, then down 
and off. 

Ross Caldwell's hips began to hump more. He was twisting his head as if he 
was trying to wriggle up into Carla's ass. His hips jerked more and more 
sharply. He was obviously about to come. 

Charlie pumped his cock slowly in and out of Ann's butt. He felt her whining 
against his smothering hand. She was writhing with pleasure as he violated 
her bung with his cruel prod. His own orgasm was drawing close. He was going 
to hose her bowels with jizz. It was going to be an excruciatingly exquisite 
coming. From the sound and feel of Ann's whining, she was already climaxing. 
Pie felt her asshole twitch around his prick. He drew out and drove into her 
tight sitter again. 

Ross Caldwell's hips were bouncing crazily on the couch. Carla was jerking 
him off briskly. He still had his face between her firm asscheeks. He began 
to spurt. As his jizz burst upward from his cock, Carla caught his watery 
eruption in her hand. Some of it spattered down to stain his pants. Her hand 
shining wet with his spurtings, she continued to pump the skin up and down 
on his stubby tool. The last jettings were thicker, whiter, and more viscous 
and collected heavily at the tip of his rod before spilling down over 
Carla's fingers. 

Charlie felt his orgasm burst through his guts and rammed deep into Ann's 
butt and unloaded. His cock throbbed heavily, pumped thick waves of flick 
juice into her bowels. He pushed up hard against her buttcheeks. He felt her 
asshole twitching, trying to drive his cock out as he poured his load into 
her. As he wrung the last dribbles of cum and pleasure out of his orgasm, 
his prick began to wilt, and her crapping reflex started to drive his rod 
out. He extracted his cock from her bung very slowly and carefully, savoring 
every inch of pleasure from her tight asshole. He took his hand from Ann's 
mouth. 

She let out a sigh that came clear from the depths of her being. 

"You bastard," she whispered. 

"You loved it." "Yeah," she admitted. "But you're still a bastard." "Which 
would you rather have? A bastard like me, or a jerk like that?" Charlie 
asked, indicating the sweating, drained man on the couch. Carla had left the 
room, left him with his dick hanging out of his fly. She came back wearing a 
bathrobe, wiping sperm off her hands. 

"Here, clean yourself up," she ordered, throwing him the soggy towel. 

Awkwardly, humbly, the man dabbed at his spotted trousers. He was 
embarrassed, and so was Carla. She was probably embarrassed for him, Charlie 
reflected, not for herself. Ross Caldwell tucked his prick back in his pants 
and zipped them up. 

"Now get out of here," Carla ordered. 

"But-" "Get out of here," she repeated. "And don't ever call me again." 
Cowed, the man left. Carla paced the room nervously for a few minutes, then 
disappeared. In a moment, Charlie and Ann heard water running. 

"Taking a bath," Charlie decided. "We'd better get out of here." "My bottom 
hurts," Arm complained. 

"You'll gets over it," Charlie assured her. "Here's your coat. Thanks for 
calling. I enjoyed it." "Don't expect me to do it again," Ann responded, 
buttoning up her coat. 

Charlie went to his room, dressed quickly and slipped out of the house. He 
didn't want his mother to know he had been home. 

He walked for a long, long time, trying to puzzle her out. She had rejected 
him, and Eric Jameson. She had experimented with a weakling, then rejected 
him, too. Clearly, she needed some direction. 

Chapter Eight "Mom! What the hell are you doing in my room?" Charlie 
demanded furiously. 

Carla jumped guiltily. The brown envelope slipped from her fingers, hit the 
floor with a thud. "Charlie! Wh-What are you doing home?" she asked faintly. 

"I live here, remember?" he snapped. "And this is my room. My room! What are 
you doing in my room?" "I-I was just-uh-I was--ah---uh--straightening up a 
little bit," Carla stammered awkwardly. 

"You were snooping." "No!" Carla squeaked feebly. "No, I wasn't snooping, I 
wasn't!" "You were snooping in my room, in my closet!" Charlie said angrily, 
stalking across to her. "You must've been in pretty deep to have found this, 
he growled, picking up the porno magazine and waving it accusingly in her 
face. 

"What are you doing with-with filth like that! Carla shot back, going on the 
attack. 

"How do you know it's filth?" Charlie asked. "You haven't opened the 
envelope yet. How do you know what's in it? You must've snooped in here 
before! This isn't even the first time you've pried into my privacy, is it?" 
Charlie asked furiously. "Well, now, that's just too much, that is too 
flicking much! Jesus, Mom, I thought we trusted each other. Goddamn! 
Snooping in my room! I trusted you!" Carla felt as if a knife were being 
twisted into her guts. Still holding the envelope, Charlie turned away from 
her, turned his back on her, and stared morosely out the window. She made a 
move towards him, then drew her hand back. She was desperately fighting back 
her tears. She wasn't even sure why she had done what she had done. No, that 
wasn't true. It was really ridiculously simple. Horny, she had sought out 
his porno magazine. 

She hadn't been snooping. This time, all she had been seeking was relief 
from her sexual tensions. After the crazy, disgusting episode with Ross 
Caldwell a week ago, she had been celibate. But it had whetted her appetite. 
Now, because of stupid physical desires, she had shattered Charlie's trust 
in her. It had been hard to reject his incestuous interest in her, but she 
couldn't violate that taboo again. She couldn't have a son who was 
a-mother-fucker. 

Now, though, she was in danger of having no son at all. Which was even more 
frightening. The thought that she might lose Charlie completely horrified 
her. He was all she had. She had to somehow regain his trust. 

"Charlie?" she asked hesitantly. 

"What?" he said sullenly, his back still towards her. 

"Charlie, please, don't-don't do this to me," Carla begged. 

"Do what?" "Just, cut me off like this. I-did wrong. I did a terrible thing, 
but don't just cut me off!" No answer. 

"Punish me, if you like, but do-don't just ignore me," she pleaded 
desperately. "Don't just ignore me, please. Please, Charlie?" Her voice 
trailed off forlornly. 

Silence. She thought she had been struck deaf. Then she heard the humming of 
her overloaded brain, the soft rush of the blood in her arteries. The room 
sparkled around her as she held her breath, waited for her son's verdict. 

The muscles in Charlie's neck and shoulders were as hard as stone. He glared 
blindly out the window. "Go to your room," he ordered harshly. "Go to your 
room and get undressed." "Ye-yes, Charlie," she said softly, a catch in her 
voice. 

"Wait for me there;" he continued, still not turning around. 

"Yes, Charlie," she agreed humbly. "Undressed?" she asked faintly. 

"Completely." "But-" "Don't argue, just do it," he said, cutting her off 
bluntly. Without realizing it, he had used the same words his father used to 
use on him. 

"Yes, Charlie," Carla agreed softly. She left his room. Fear was burrowing 
through her like a little animal, bringing out cold sweat. It wasn't just 
fear fl of the spanking she knew she was going to get. It was dread of the 
effect her nudity was going to have on her son. There was dread of what her 
own reaction to being nude in front of him was going to be. Already, just 
thinking about it, she had a hot, melting feeling deep in her guts. And then 
there was still the horniness that had triggered the whole sorry mess. 

She shook as she slowly removed her robe. She concentrated on meticulously 
straightening it after hanging it carefully on its hook. But the motions 
only made her more aware of her nudity. The cool air touched her amused 
nipples and exposed pussy. Then, she waited. She wondered what was taking 
him so long. The longer she waited, the greater her agony of anticipation 
became. Her nerves were drawn as tight as a violin string. 

After she left his room, Charlie stood staring out his window for a long 
time. His fury was like a white-hot fire in him. It was the last straw as 
far as he was concerned. It was the culmination of day after day after day 
of frustration and aggravation. He had twice heard her turn down a date with 
Eric Jameson. Three times she had slammed her bedroom door in his face when 
he had walked past. Whether she knew it or not, she had been tormenting him 
with her body. 

Well, now she was going to learn just who the man of the house was. He had 
done wrong, and been punished. Now she had done wrong, and he was going to 
punish her, bring her to her senses once and for all. 

He knew she was strong. He didn't want her escaping before the scene was 
played out. Going to his closet, he took the four neckties off the rack. The 
wide leather belt caught his eye, so he took that, too. Then, tense and 
determined, he stalked down the hall to her room. 

He paused in the doorway. His mouth suddenly went dry at the sight of her. 
She didn't see him at first. She was looking at herself in the full-length 
mirror. He studied her tits-the tits he had suckled on as a baby. He 
surveyed her hips and the loins that had borne him. He got all hot inside 
and his resolve to punish, her wavered. Then, she turned, startled. The fear 
in her eyes was mingled with relief, and his resolve hardened. He started 
towards her. 

Carla's first reaction on seeing him had been relief-relief that he was 
still clothed. Then she had caught sight of the belt in his hand, and been 
paralyzed with fear. The neckties only puzzled her. 

"If you fight me, it'll go all the harder for you," he informed her bluntly. 

"Please don't tie me up," Carla begged, suddenly realizing what the neckties 
were for. She would be absolutely defenseless. He would be able to do 
anything to her he wanted. She was terrified. 

"Give me your wrist," he ordered. 

"Please," Carla begged, cringing back away from him. 

Impatiently, Charlie reached out and grabbed her arm. Quickly, he knotted 
one necktie around her wrist. She shivered as he did the other one as well. 

"Sit down," he ordered. 

She staggered back and sat down on the stool of her dressing table. 

"Give me your foot," he said, holding out his hand. 

Silently, she did as ordered. She realized the pose completely exposed the 
dark slit of her pussy. The excitement she felt was more frightening than 
the bondage. In moments he had neckties dangling from both her ankles. Her 
cunt felt hot and sticky She wondered if it showed. 

Charlie looked around the room, searching for a suitable site for her 
punishment. Then he thought of the family room in the basement. Taking the 
ties around her wrists, he jerked her to her feet. 

"Come on," he ordered. 

Carla's insides melted as she was led through the house by her son. She felt 
so hopelessly exposed. The neckties on her ankles flapped at every step. 
Charlie had both of the ones from her wrists in one hand, so she was forced 
to walk with her arms out in front of her. She was puzzled when he led her 
through the living room to the basement stairs. She stumbled along behind, 
leaned forward when he pulled on the ties. He flicked on the light over the 
pool table. She began shivering uncontrollably. He stripped back the cover, 
exposed the rich, green surface, the oiled wooden rim. The cover hadn't been 
off the table since Chuck's death. 

Charlie guided her to one end of the table, put a hand on the back of her 
neck and pushed. "Bend over." "Please don't tie me," Carla pleaded. "I won't 
try to get away, honest I won't. Don't tie me, please don't tie me." She was 
reduced to begging. 

"Bend over and grab the side pockets and maybe I won't," he said, relenting 
slightly. 

She bent forward onto the table. The felt surface felt like sandpaper 
against her nipples. Her boobs flattened out on the hard slate. Her hands 
just reached the pockets along the sides. She hooked her fingers into them. 
The raised edge of the table cut into her stomach right below her waist. She 
rested her cheek on the rough felt. 

Charlie studied her for a moment. Her ass was positioned perfectly for the 
beating he was going to give her. Her legs were together, her knees locked. 
The tendons on the backs of her thighs were drawn taut. Her asscheeks were 
tight, white globes, tender and vulnerable. They gleamed in the harsh light. 
Her back was smooth and graceful. There was a slight stubble under her arms. 
A small portion of her pussy hair was visible between her thighs. 

The sight of his mother drawn tight, naked and ready for her spanking, made 
Charlie's groin tighten and his cock harden. But the time for that was 
later. Ignoring his arousal, he gripped the belt buckle and coiled the 
leather strap around his fist twice to shorten it. 

"You ready?" he asked, knowing anticipation would make it hurt more. 

"Yes," she answered, her voice a husky whisper. 

Charlie drew back his arm and brought the belt down on his mother's naked 
ass with a ringing crack. Her flesh flared white, and then slowly turned red 
where the belt had hit her. It was like watching a photograph develop. 

Carla jerked at the blistering impact, and tightened her grip on the pool 
table. She kept reminding herself he would tie her up, make her completely 
helpless, if she didn't cooperate. Her ass burned like fire from the first 
blow. How many would he give her? Charlie drew back his arm and brought the 
belt whistling down a second time. It slashed across her butt, and a second 
pink stripe developed a half an inch above the first. The third blow struck 
her below the first two. The fourth closed the gap between the first two. 
The fifth finished the task. Every inch of her ass was bright red. The blows 
came thick and fast now. Charlie's fury blazed and he lashed his mother's 
ass with a viciousness that would have astonished him had he been thinking. 
Again and again and again the leather cracked against her butt. She began 
bleeding from the cruel lashing. 

Charlie was brought back to his senses by a high, keening wail coming from 
somewhere. He realized that it was coming from him. His mother was sobbing 
hysterically. He was moaning like he was beating his own flesh. Tears of 
frustration and fury were streaking his cheeks as he finally expressed his 
rage at his father's death. He paused, the belt raised high for yet another 
stroke, and then unlocked his fingers from around the buckle and flung the 
belt away blindly. It clattered against the paneled wall. He fought to 
regain control of himself. 

His cock was a throbbing pole in his pants. He wrenched at his belt, ripped 
his trousers down, freed his aching prick. Tears still staining his cheeks, 
he walked up behind his mother and set his dick between her thighs. He 
plunged his pulsing cock into her cunt. She was wet, and slippery, and 
ready. He drove his cock deep into her oozing hole with a single firm 
stroke. His hips jammed up against her abused ass. 

Carla had been half expecting, half anticipating, and half hoping for his 
assault. The beating had seemed to go on forever and ever and ever. At first 
she had had to force herself to maintain her grip on the pool table. But 
soon the strength was drained out of her body by the incredible searing pain 
in her ass. It was unbelievable! It felt as if a blowtorch ware being 
applied to an already searing sunburn, as ii the flesh were being stripped 
from her bones. She had cried. Her tears had stained the expensive green 
felt of the pool table. 

The beating had stopped with shocking abruptness. It had taken her quite a 
while to realize another blow was not going to fall. Her backside felt raw 
and blistered and hurt like hell. Her guts were flaming with lust, just the 
way they had been after the insane spanking Chuck had given her on their 
honeymoon. Her cunt was hot, and wet, and hungry. She could have heaved 
herself up off the table, rolled over, protected herself from her son's 
sexual assault. But, instead, she held on and braced herself for the thrust 
into her aching hole. 

Charlie drove his tool into her, felt the hot sheath of her cunt grip his 
seething prick. Leaning forward, his hands on either side of her on the hard 
pool table, he drew back and drove his cock into her twat again, not caring 
that his hips were jamming hard against her seared asscheeks. All that 
mattered was the feel of her hot cunt stroking his aching hard-on. All that 
mattered was the exquisite ecstasy of fucking his cock into his mother's 
shuddering body. 

It mattered to Carla that Charlie was hitting her aching butt, but in a 
positive fashion. The pain when his body slammed against her inflamed buns 
added to the pleasure she felt at having her cunt filled by his cock. She 
loved having him slam into her, loved having him increase her pain, loved 
the way his cock hit the end of her cunt, stretching it. Rocking her hips, 
she ground her clit against the edge of the pool table. Her rejection of him 
the past week seemed insane in the face of the incredible ecstasy he could 
give her. She loved feeling his cock thrust deep in her body, welcomed his 
drives into her hungry cunt. She waited for him to flood her with jizz, to 
have him fill the womb that had nurtured him eighteen years before. 

Charlie drove his prick into his mother's cunt. His body slapped against her 
flaming ass. His cock was on fire. He was nearing an orgasm. It felt like he 
had an ocean of cum to pour into her clinging snatch. His nuts knotted up 
against his groin and wrung the last dribbles of sperm into his prostate. 

His muscles convulsed and he slammed into her quivering hole again. The 
first wad of cum ripped the length of his dick. His ass knotted, adding 
force to the blast of jizz spurting into her twat. He humped. An animal, he 
humped his cum into his mother's cunt in quick, sharp, burning shots. He 
flooded her with gooey fuck cream, deposited his sperm deep in her working, 
convulsing cunt. 

As she felt her son pumping her cunt full of jizz, Carla came. Her orgasm 
was a crazy tangle of pain and pleasure. Her ass hurt, her twat quivered 
with pleasure. Her tits ached from being ground against the hard slate. Her 
heart was bunting with love for her son. What did it matter that it was 
incest? She was being shredded with pleasure. She doubted she would ever 
experience such a delicious, fantastic orgasm again. 

Charlie leaned forward, about to lie down on his mother's back and hug her 
when he remembered her battered flesh. He started to push up and off her. 

"No," Carla moaned, taking his hands, pulling him down on top of her. She 
loved the pain and his weight crushing her into the table. "No, stay, please 
stay." "Oh, Mom," Charlie moaned. He was horrified at what he had done. 

"It's all right, baby, it's all right. I deserved everything I got. Don't 
apologize, don't ever apologize." Her words struck a familiar chord in 
Charlie, and he wondered where he had heard them before. He couldn't 
remember. He snuggled against her, his cheek on hers. Her soft hair tickled 
his ear. Her fingers interlocked with his, she held his hand against her 
soft flank. They lay there on the table, their feet still on the floor. 

As Carla felt his prick retreating from her flooded snatch, she became more 
and more aware of the various aches and pains besetting her. Finally, she 
had to shift because of the pressure of the table rim in her belly. Charlie 
felt her move, and hauled himself up off her. She let him go. Then she let 
him help her up. She was aching and stiff and sore. The forgotten ties 
dangled from her wrists and ankles. 

"Sorry about these," he apologized as he unknotted them. He knelt at her 
feet to get the ones around her ankles. 

"Don't ever apologize," she insisted. "Keep them for the next time." Charlie 
suddenly remembered where he had heard "don't apologize" before. Ellen 
Jameson had said it, just after he had beaten and raped her. 

"What're you thinking about?" Carla asked curiously. 

Charlie jumped guiltily. "Oh, just something I heard a while back from Ellen 
Jameson." "Well, if you're going to tell me about it, I hope it can wait 
until you've put some oil on my bottom," Carla said as they went back 
upstairs. 

"Lie down on your bed, Mom. I'll get the oil. Then I'll tell you about Ellen 
and me." "You don't have to tell me, you know," Carla said when he came 
back. 

"I want to," he answered, pouring a pool of oil in his palm. He warmed it 
between his hands before stroking it onto her flaming red butt. 

"Ellen said exactly the same thing about apologizing after I whipped her," 
he reported conversationally as he smoothed the cream into his mother's 
buttcheeks. 

"After you what?" "After I beat her with a piece of rope. She was a real 
bitch that night I doubled with Pete and her and Ann." "The second time you 
came in late," Carla noted. 

"Right." Charlie shivered at the memory of the spanking he had gotten. 
"Well, Ellen was being a real bitch, and Pete went over to Ann and started 
making it with her." 

"Screwing her?" "Yeah. So, anyway, I got turned on watching them, and so did 
Ellen. Then she decided to tease me and ran away. I got real mad, chased 
her, and beat the shit out of her. Then I screwed her. She loved it. She 
likes being treated rough, says the pain turns her on." "Has the same effect 
on me," Carla noted wryly. "Me, too," Charlie admitted. "In case you hadn't 
noticed." "I had. Both giving and receiving it is damn arousing, isn't it?" 
"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "Well, anyway, Ellen told me never to apologize, 
just the way you did." "Smart girl," Carla noted. She loved the feel of 
Charlie's hands on her ass. The pain was lessening. The skin was 
ultrasensitive. She adored having his hands on her. Her pussy was feeling 
all soft and warm again. 

Charlie was enjoying massaging the lush round masses of her buns. His cock 
swelling slowly, he stroked her lovingly. "Want to hear something about 
Ellen and her father?" "Uh-huh," Carla agreed languidly. 

"You have to promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone," Charlie 
cautioned. 

"If I do, you can tie me up for a beating," Carla told him, then shivered. 

"Mr. Jameson's set me up for a rape charge. His way of making sure nothing 
leaks out," Charlie explained. 

"Holy mackerel, must be pretty hot stuff," Carla observed. "Are you sure you 
want to tell me?" "Uh-huh. I trust you." "That's nice," Carla purred, 
meaning the stroking of her ass as well as the fact that he trusted her 
again. 

"Ellen and her father have a thing going," Charlie began vaguely. 

"A 'thing' going?" Carla asked, suspecting what he meant, but not really 
believing it. 

"Like us," he explained, stroking his oily fingers along her ass crack. "You 
know, Mom. Incest." "Oh." Carla had trouble keeping her response 
casual-sounding, both because of the delicate exploration of his fingers and 
her own surprise at the news. 

"Yeah, she's a father-fucker. And I'm a mother-fucker," Charlie said, 
probing deeper into Carla's crevice. His cock was stiff again. 

"I wish you wouldn't use words like that," Carla complained. "It makes it 
sound so awful. And it isn't awful, is it?" "Hell, no," Charlie agreed. 
"It's great." He probed a finger deep into her crack, touched her bung. 

"So's that," Carla sighed. "Like that?" "You know it," she groaned. "So does 
Ellen." 

"Well, first she sucked her father's cock." "Umm-hummm," Carla purred. 

"While she was doing that, right there in their living room, I fucked her 
from behind, dog fashion." He began pumping his finger in and out of Carla's 
asshole. "All three of us came that way. You should have seen her taking cum 
in her mouth and cunt at the same time." Carla's guts convulsed at the 
thought, and because of the finger up her butt. "Ch-Charlie?" She was having 
trouble talking. 

"What?" "There's a-cigar thing over there on the bureau," she explained. "If 
you-grease it up, you can-stuff it up my-in my bottom, if you'd like." 
"Yeah." "I'd-ah-like your cock, but I'm too sore right now," she explained. 

"That's okay, Mom," he assured her, getting the aluminum tube. He oiled it 
carefully. Carla bent her knees, and lifted her butt into the air. 

His face shining with sweat, Charlie aimed the tube into his mother's ass 
and slowly pressed it into her bung. He watched as her asshole gradually 
stretched, then accepted the tube. He slid it far up into her butt. Just 
watching it disappear into her ass got him excited. 

"What else did you do with Ellen?" Carla moaned. 

Charlie fucked the tube in and out of her shitter slowly. "Well, after that, 
we all went into the bedroom." "Uh-huh," Carla grunted. "Oooooh, jeez, 
that's good." "Yeah. In the bedroom, Ellen sucked my dick while her father 
fucked her. It was really something, watching her eat my prick." "I can 
imagine," Carla moaned as the aluminum tube buggered her. 

"But I didn't come in her mouth, though Mr. Jameson did in her cunt," 
Charlie explained. "I saved it." "For what?" Carla asked, her insides 
boiling. 

"When he pulled out, I moved down, lubricated my prick in her pussy, and 
then jammed it into her asshole." "God!" Carla groaned as a mini-orgasm 
rushed through her. 

"While I did that, she sucked her father's cock hard again. Then, when I 
came-did it in her butt-he moved down and fucked her in the ass while I 
watched." "Oh, Charlie," Carla moaned. 

"Yeah, Mom?" "I need more, Charlie, I need more." Carla was aroused to the 
point of desperation. 

"What do you need, Mom?" "I need your cock, Charlie, that wonderful, 
beautiful hard cock of yours," she moaned. 

"What about this?" Charlie asked, sliding the cigar tube in and out of her 
asshole. 

"That, too," she moaned. "That, too, Charlie." "What'd you have in mind?" 
Charlie asked, honestly puzzled. 

"I'll-have to be on top," Carla explained. "If I face toward your feet, I 
think we can do it. You work the tube in my butt." He started to pull it out 
of her asshole and she jerked. "No, leave it in all the way for now." She 
got to her hands and knees. "Lie on your back." Charlie did as he was asked. 
He was fascinated by the sight of the cigar tube sticking out of his 
mother's butt. 

She worked her way around on the bed very carefully, acutely conscious of 
the shaft filling her butt like a rock-hard lump. Awkwardly, she lifted one 
leg over Charlie and straddled him. Facing his feet, she reached down under 
herself and found his stiff prick. She tilted his rod down from his belly 
until it was aimed up into her crotch. She lowered herself on it, nestled 
its head in her pussy, and slowly drove it up into her belly. It was a 
tighter fit than she expected, which puzzled her. Then she realized the 
cigar tube must be cutting down on the available space. 

"Tight," Charlie said curtly. 

"Wonderful," Carla moaned. "Oh, Charlie, we're so wicked!" "Ain't it great?" 
Carla had to lean far forward over Charlie's legs. She lifted and his prick 
slid out of her cunt, almost slipped free of her tight hole. She lowered 
herself, and drove his cock back up into her twat. It hit the back of her 
cunt, pinched the thin layer of flesh between her snatch and asshole. 

"The tube, Charlie, do the tube." Charlie reached for the end of the cigar 
tube, which was still protruding from her shitter, and drew it out, then 
slid it back in. Through the tissue barrier separating her holes, he felt it 
with his prick, felt the tube stroke his cock. 

"JESUS!" he exploded. 

"Oooh, Charlie, it's so good, so good," Carla moaned. "Fuck me, fuck me, 
fuck me." Charlie fucked her. He screwed the cylinder in and out of her 
asshole as she rose and fell on his throbbing rod. Her cunt walls stroked 
his rigid pole, built his lust moment by moment. There was direct friction 
from her twat, and incredible indirect pressure from the cigar tube. 
Charlie's cum began to flow, began to gather, to ready itself for the final 
spouting eruption. 

For Carla the pleasure was exquisite. She had two wonderful, brutal hard 
shafts crammed into her, and they were both sliding in and out. Her cunt was 
ablaze. Her ass was on fire. And the thin wall between them was being 
stroked and tugged. Carla thought she was going to rip apart right up the 
middle, and wondered what it would feel like. 

Then she began to come. It was a colossal orgasm. It raged through her like 
a hurricane. She kept bouncing up and down, and the cigar tube kept moving 
in and out. She kept coming and coming and coming. It was incredible. 

Charlie pistoned the tube in her asshole faster and faster. She got the 
message, and humped on his cock as fast as she could. 

He was about to come. He was right on the verge of coming. He began to come. 
He drove the cigar tube deep into her bowels and almost lost his grip on it. 
He fountained his jizz into her pulsing cunt. Carla dropped down hard on his 
jetting prick so the head of it nuzzled the end of her snatch. The shaft of 
his prick was pinched by the cylinder up her ass. Charlie poured fuck juice 
into his mother's cunt for a second time that day. 

Exhausted, Carla lay forward on her son's bare legs. She felt his prick move 
inside her flooded snatch. Her ass went into waves and drove the cigar tube 
out. It was a delicious crapping feeling. Charlie's cock shriveled in her 
cunt until just the tip was nestled in her pussy. Finally, forgetting the 
state of her ass, she rolled off him. 

"YEOW!" she yelped, arching up off the bed. Her butt felt as it had been 
dipped in acid. She rolled onto her side quickly. 

"You okay, Mom?" Charlie asked, picking up the cigar tube. 

"When you give a spanking, you really give a spanking," Carla observed. 
"I'll have to eat standing up for a week, and sleep on my tummy!" "I'm. . ." 
"Ah! Don't apologize!" "I'm sure I won't have to give you a spanking like 
that again," he finished, changing what he had been about to say. 

"Not like that," she agreed fervently. "Maybe a little gentler, right?" "And 
I'm sure I'll need one once in a while, too. Uh, Mom?" "What?" "What about 
Eric Jameson? Will you at least give the guy a chance?" "You think I 
should?" "Yeah. He's nice, Mom." "Think he'd make a good father?" she asked 
cautiously. 

"I think so, Mom," Charlie replied seriously. 

"And Ellen would make a good sister, right?" Carla said smiling. 

"Some sister!" "Some son," Carla retorted. 

"Some daughter!" Charlie shot back. "Some family," Carla finished. 

"Well, Mom?" Carla thought for a minute. "Why don't we invite them both over 
for dinner?" "Just dinner?" "Mind your manners! There are other things in 
life besides sex." "Well, you never can tell what we might serve for 
dessert!" Charlie joked. 

"No, you never can tell," Carla agreed. "But just remember, it might be 
nothing more than cherry pie." "No cherries in the group," Charlie punned. 

"Get out of here and go take a shower," she ordered, smiling. "But don't get 
dressed. I can't because of my bottom, so you can't either." "Seems fair." 
Humming happily, he left her room. 

Carla got to her feet and studied the flaming expanse of her ass in the 
mirror. Shaking her head, she applied some more ointment, then washed the 
cigar tube carefully. She looked at it thoughtfully, then set it aside. 
Maybe an artificial cock won't be needed, if things develop with Eric, she 
thought to herself. What would two cocks feel like ... 

Chapter Nine Carla wouldn't have believed it was possible to get so uptight 
about a casual dinner party. She took a deep breath in a vain attempt to 
ease her nervousness. Then she opened the door for Eric Jameson and his 
daughter. She eyed him approvingly, and wondered why she had been avoiding 
him so determinedly. He was handsome. His wavy strawberry blond hair and 
blue eyes were really quite striking. He was soft spoken, polite, and 
intensely masculine. Carla's heart fluttered. 

"Hi," Charlie greeted Ellen warmly. He noted that she was wearing her white 
blouse, white short shorts combination again. He wondered if she were 
wearing any underwear. Anticipation was a hot lump in his guts. It grew 
steadily as the evening progressed. He kept waiting, and waiting, and 
waiting for something to happen. 

It finally did, as they were eating dessert. Carla was pouring coffee for 
Eric. Her hand shook, and coffee spilled across the table and into his lap. 
He leaped up out of his chair with a curse of pain. 

"Oh, nooo," Carla moaned as he dabbed ineffectively at the brown splotch on 
his thigh. 

"Me you okay, Daddy?" Ellen asked. "Here, take this." When she reached 
across the table to hand her father her napkin, her arm upset Charlie's 
glass of milk. A wave of white liquid poured over his leg. He lurched away 
from the table. "Damn clumsy women!" he swore. 

Eric Jameson shot Charlie a sharp glance. Charlie had said nothing about his 
relationship with his mother. Eric had the feeling Charlie was trying, 
subtly, to get him to do something. But what? "They are clumsy," Eric agreed 
mildly. 

"They ought to be taught to be more careful," Charlie muttered, wiping the 
milk off his trousers. 

Carla and Ellen were watching the men cautiously. They were both holding 
their breaths. 

"They were careless," Eric agreed. 

"Very careless. Look at this mess. Look at your pants!" "I'll pay for the 
cleaning," Carla said hesitantly. 

Ellen remained silent. Her eyes were glittering. She knew where it was all 
heading, and she wasn't about to stop it. 

"What about my pants?" Charlie asked. "Who's going to pay for getting them 
cleaned?" Ellen shrugged. "I don't have any money," she said casually. "You 
can't get blood from a turnip." Charlie glared at her. "Well, then, maybe it 
should be taken out of your hide instead." "That's not a bad idea," Eric 
Jameson said. "Maybe Carla would prefer that to paying for the cleaning." 
Suddenly realizing what was happening, Carla paled.. 

"We don't have much money since Dad died," Charlie noted. 

"Maybe if we soak the pants in cold water, the stain will come out," Carla 
suggested. "But it should be done right away." "Yeah, you're right," Eric 
agreed, beginning to empty his pockets. 

"You, too, Charlie," Ellen said softly. 

Charlie had a titanic hard-on already. He wondered if Ellen had upset his 
glass deliberately. 

Carla's eyes fastened on Eric's crotch as he shed his pants. His underpants 
were tented out by his monster hard-on. He looked as if he were hung like a 
horse. Her mouth was dry as dust as she gingerly took his trousers. 

Ellen touched Charlie's hard-on briefly as she took his pants from him. Her 
eyes met his. There was a hot glow in them that made his pulse race. His 
eyes swept over her well-rounded body, and again he wondered what he'd find 
under her demure outfit. The white made her look very pure and innocent. 

"A spanking?" Eric asked Charlie softly when the women left the room. 

"Definitely," Charlie agreed. It had been over a week since he had scorched 
his mother's butt, and she was fully recovered. 

"But not too hard a one," Eric added. "No, just enough to stimulate them." 
"Where?" "Downstairs. We have a pool table that's just the right height." 
"What does your mother have on under that long dress?" "Probably nothing." 
Carla was wearing a long, softly flowing jersey dress. He remembered her 
once saying that it was too clingy to wear any underwear with. 

The women returned, and Charlie's hard-on increased a bit. He should have 
felt foolish, standing there in his underpants and shirt, but somehow, he 
didn't. He decided he had to get things moving before his mother got too 
scared. He grabbed Ellen's wrist. "Come on," he said firmly. "I'm going to 
teach you to be more careful." 

"Yes, Charlie," she agreed, trailing along behind him towards the basement 
stairs. 

"Come on, Carla, let's make sure our kids don't get in any trouble. You 
still haven't said whether you'll pay for my trousers or not, you know." 
"I-we-really can't afford it," Carla stammered. 

"Well, then, we better make the same arrangement Charlie and Ellen have," 
Eric suggested. 

"That's probably the best solution," Carla agreed. 

Charlie flipped the switch, and the fluorescent fixtures flickered to life. 
The eight-foot table dominated the room. The cover still lay in a heap where 
Charlie had tossed it the day he had beaten Carla with his belt. 

"Bend over the table," Charlie ordered Ellen. 

Silently, the well-rounded teenager lay forward on the green felt. The 
tendons of her legs were stretched tight by the pose. Her butt was in the 
air. The material of her shorts was pulled tight over her ass. 

Standing behind her, Charlie leaned forward and pried his hands under her 
belly and found the fastening of her shorts. 

"Charlie!" Carla exclaimed anxiously. 

"Quiet, Carla, it's all right," Eric told her firmly. 

"But . . . Yes, Eric." Charlie's hard cock nuzzled Ellen's buns as he 
fumbled with the waist of her shorts. His fingers dug into her soft, warm 
tummy. He got the button undone, then worked the zipper down. He found she 
was naked under her shorts and his hard-on throbbed heavily. He felt the 
warm tickle of her red muff as he worked the zipper all the way down. 

Ellen was gripping the side pockets of the pool table. 

The first blow from Eric's hand stung her ass, and Carla knew that her 
expression had changed instantly from fearful anticipation to glaring 
pleasure. Her eyes closed, she savored the stinging slaps raining down on 
her naked buns with metronomic consistency. The touch of warm lips against 
hers startled her. She responded without thinking. Her mouth and Ellen's 
mingled in a warm kiss. 

Charlie's arm ached with exhaustion, his palm burned with pain. Ellen's ass 
was a glaring red from the meticulous spanking he had been giving her. But 
more agonizing than anything was the aching hunger in his cock. He let Ellen 
have it two more times, hard, then yanked his underpants down with frantic 
haste. His dick burned as it pulled out of his fly. 

Moving in behind Ellen, he set his prick between her thighs. Finding, her 
wet, slick gash, he drilled his prick deep into her cunt, crammed her with 
his meat. 

Then he saw the way Ellen was kissing his mother. His cock throbbed in its 
hot sheath. He leaned forward, pressed his hips against her cushiony butt 
and fastened his eyes on the lesbian encounter. Thawing his prick out, he 
powered it back into Ellen's pussy. He watched the lust flare on Ellen's 
face. She kept exploring Carla's mouth with her tongue. The women were no 
longer holding the table. They were gripping each other's forearms as they 
kissed. 

Eric quickened his swatting of Carla's well rounded ass, then duplicated 
Charlie's act-ripped his overloaded underpants down and rammed his cock into 
Carla's streaming pussy. He drilled his prick into her hole and began 
humping. He gripped her trim waist. He, too, was watching the women's 
sucking, loving kiss. 

Charlie was nearing an orgasm. Ellen's cunt walls blistered past the flanks 
of his dick as he drove it into her body. Cum was boiling in his groin. He 
powered into her again, and again, then began to spurt his load into her 
spasming cunt. Her body writhed as she climaxed with him. Her cunt clutched 
and squeezed his prick as he filled her with jizz. She conveyed her orgasm 
to Carla, mouth to mouth, and Carla began to come, began squirming crazily 
on top of the table. She ground her belly against the hard edge. 

Eric drove his prick into Carla's twat with a squishy slapping sound. He 
practically cut her thighs off against the table as he spurted into her 
spasming cunt. His balls poured out an incredible torrent of fuck juice. 
Finally, the overflow streamed down over his knotted, pumping nuts, and fell 
to the hard basement floor. 

Charlie's orgasm faded, and his prick began to shrink. He lay forward on top 
of Ellen and hugged her warmly. His prick retreated slowly from her cunt, 
then slid out of her spermy hole. He pulled back off her. 

Eric Jameson pulled back from Carla at the same time. His limp, exhausted 
cock drooled a gleaming strand of cum as he backed away. 

Then the two men surveyed their handiwork. The two women squirmed clear up 
onto the table, slid their bodies alongside each other, then rolled to their 
sides in a slithery, eel-like motion. Mouths nibbled down over boobs, 
suckled on tits, and then moved on. Down torsos, paused briefly at navels. 
Tongues probed oval depressions, then licked lower. Eric and Charlie sank 
down on the couch and watched, amazed. 

Carla and Ellen licked each other's cunts, stroked their tongues through 
each others curling muffs. They tasted each other's cunt juice and the jizz 
that was spilling and oozing from their puffy gashes. Thighs opened wide in 
invitation, tongue and lips probed deeply, and faces burrowed into hot, 
steamy snatches. 

Charlie's blood pounded through his body. He could see Ellen's eyes as she 
burrowed her mouth into Carla's dark muff. He could see Ellen's tongue 
drilling into the streaming slit so recently glutted with Eric's fuck cream. 

Charlie reflected that it wasn't much different than Ellen sucking her 
father's cock, which he had seen her do. She was getting the jizz second 
hand, was all. She was undoubtedly getting Carla's cum, too. Carla was 
whimpering and whining into Ellen's red-haired pussy, probing into Ellen's 
juicy twat, dipping her tongue deep into a cunt that was flooded with 
Charlie's spunk. Then Carla suckled on Ellen's clit, brought the red-headed 
teenager off in a glittering, thrashing orgasm. Carla clutched at Ellen's 
buttcheeks, dug her fingers into the crack, probed the girl's asshole in an 
effort to increase the intensity of Ellen's climax. 

Ellen responded well, thrashed, and struggled to force her face deeper into 
Carla's black-haired twat. Ellen dug her fingers into Carla's ass, drilled a 
finger into Carla's bung. Both women's orgasms leaped another notch higher, 
then burned out quickly, and left the two naked women shuddering and panting 
on the green table top. 

"Christ!" Charlie exclaimed. 

"Did you tell your mother about Ellen and me?" Eric asked calmly. 

"Yeah," Charlie answered. 

"How did she take it?" Charlie laughed. "How do you think a woman who has a 
mother-fucker for a son would take it?" Eric stared at him. "You mean, you 
and Carla?" Charlie nodded. "You better believe it." "You've got good 
taste." "Yeah, she tastes good, too," Charlie joked. 

"What are you two lechers talking about?" Ellen asked as she lay on the 
table, catching her breath. Her legs trailed off the end. Her pussy was 
thrust upward invitingly. Her twat bush was soaked and stringy with jizz and 
saliva. 

"Incest," Eric answered. 

"Vice is nice, but incest is best," Charlie quipped. 

"You and your mom?" Ellen asked him. 

"And why not?" Carla retorted, managing to struggle to a sitting position 
and look at Ellen. "You and your father have been doing it for two years 
now." "You don't mind?" Ellen asked. 

"Well," Carla observed wryly, "it keeps it all in the family." Then she 
frowned. "This table is damned uncomfortable. I've got bruises on my 
bruises. 

"I'm thirsty," Ellen said, heaving herself up off the table. She swayed 
uncertainly for a moment when she stood up. 

With Charlie supporting his mother, and Eric his daughter, they made their 
way upstairs. They left their clothes scattered all over the basement. 

In the kitchen, the four of them stood around and concentrated on washing 
the dust from their mouths. Charlie slid an arm around Carla's shoulders and 
fondled one of her boobs absently, tweaked her stiffening nipple with his 
fingertips. 

"Let's go to the bedroom," Carla suggested hesitantly. "Charlie, maybe you 
could get that envelope from your room?" The four of them formed a warm, 
naked tangle on the king-sized bed and looked at the porno magazine. Hands 
began probing wet cunts and stroking rigid cocks. 

"God, I love it up the ass," Ellen moaned at the sight of a woman with a 
massive dick up her butt. 

"Me, too," Carla admitted. She was tensely silent for a moment. "Know what 
I've always wanted to try?" "What?" Ellen asked. The two men were listening 
closely. 

"I've wanted to take two men at once." "It's great. I've done it. One in my 
pussy and one in my mouth. Then one in my ass and one in my mouth?' "I want 
one in my ass and one in my cunt," Carla moaned as Charlie pushed a finger 
into her twat, and his thumb slowly into her bung. She was lying on her 
side, her legs spraddled wide so he could reach both her holes easily. 

"I don't see why we shouldn't oblige the lady, do you?" Eric asked Charlie. 

"I'll help," Ellen offered. "And then later, you can both flick me, too." 
"I'll get the lubricant," Charlie said, getting up from the bed. He was back 
in a moment. "Who gets which hole?" he asked. 

"Wh-who has the smaller cock?" Carla asked practically. 

There was a quick, laughing comparison, and it WAS determined that Eric's 
prick was skinnier, but longer. They decided he should get Carla's asshole. 

Charlie coated Eric's dick with oil. His hands stroked the other man's tool 
lovingly. Eric's cock grew even harder and longer from the stimulation. 
Then, taking the jar of lubricant from Charlie, he greased up Charlie's 
cock. Charlie was astonished at how great another man's hands felt. 

Then Charlie lay on his back. His mother straddled him. He rested his head 
on a pillow and watched as she aimed his greasy pole up into her cunt, and 
lowered herself on it. "Mother-fucker," she groaned as she took her son's 
prick. Then, his rod sunk full depth in her cunt, she lay forward on him. 

Ellen took the petroleum jelly and lubricated Carla's ass. Putting a glob of 
the yellow goo on one finger, Ellen pushed it deep into Carla's asshole. 

Charlie felt the penetration with his cock. His rod throbbed heavily. He 
wondered what it was going to feel like when Eric Jameson drove that long, 
hard prick of his into Carla's shit-chute. 

Ellen pulled her finger out of Carla's asshole, and Eric moved in behind the 
black-haired woman. Looking down, he saw where Charlie's cock entered her 
inflamed pussy. He saw the oil on Carla's ass, the brown pucker of her bung. 
He aimed his cock at her dusky brownie, nestled it against the tight hole. 
Steadying his cock with his hand, he began to push into Carla's ass. 

Ellen watched her father's cock enter Carla's bung, and wished desperately 
she was getting the fabulous double reaming. Carla's asshole stretched 
slowly, reluctantly admitted Eric's knob. The distance separating asshole 
and cunt slowly diminished as it was pinched between the two hard rods. 

Carla thought she was going to die from pleasure as her butt was slowly 
penetrated. She began feeling more and more full of cock. She felt her 
shitter stretching as it was violated by Eric's prick. 

She felt the strip of flesh separating her holes being slowly squeezed and 
rolled. She clutched at her son as her cunt was pinched tight around the 
hard cylinder of his cock. 

Charlie's prick throbbed in its hot meat. He felt the slow progress of 
Eric's prick as a gradually shifting pressure against the underside of his 
own cock. He felt his mother's asshole slither into the groove beneath 
Eric's cockhead, felt the knob of Eric's prick piston slowly up into his 
mother's butt. 

For a moment, Charlie thought he was going to come from the unbelievable 
stimulation. His cock jumped and convulsed, on the verge of climaxing. 

Eric felt the twitching, knew what it was, and froze, his prick half into 
Carla's butt. He could see her asshole, stretched and pale. It embraced his 
rock-hard tool tightly. His cock throbbed and pulsed for a moment. Then, as 
the near orgasm faded, he drove deeper into Carla's bowels. 

Charlie felt Eric drive the rest of the way into Carla's ass. Charlie's cock 
had never been more tightly or more exquisitely encased. Its full length was 
pinched by the brutal bulk of Eric's dong. Charlie knew that when he did 
come, the jizz was going to have to squeeze the length of his compressed 
prick, and that he was going to be ripped apart by the searing sensation. 
But, at the moment, he had the feeling it would be a long, long time before 
he came. His threshold had receded. He had the feeling he could pump his 
cock in his mother's tight twat for hours. Experimentally, he drew outward 
and then slid his prick back into her clutching sheath. It felt fabulous, 
but he wasn't going to orgasm, he wasn't going to come for a long, long 
time. 

Carla was, though. She was coming with nobody moving in her at all. She felt 
as if her insides were made entirely of cock. She felt as if she were going 
to rip in half, right up the middle. She was bathed in searing waves of 
flames just from being crammed with hard cock. She wished she could have a 
prick in her mouth, too. 

Then Charlie drew his dick out and slid it back in. Carla felt like she was 
being shredded by pleasure. She felt the sides of her ass and cunt sheaths 
being twisted and tugged. Her bung and her snatch both began spasming around 
the cocks glutting them. 

Eric felt Charlie's motion as a shifting pressure, and waited until Charlie 
was back full depth in Carla's cunt. Then Eric drew his greasy prick out of 
Carla's butt, and drove it back in. He knew that he was not going to come 
for quite a while, tight and clinging and delectable as her asshole was. He 
was going to enjoy this for a long, long time. 

Working like a skilled team, Charlie and Eric proceeded to drive Carla mad. 
Only one of them moved at a time. Charlie would haul his cock out and then 
drive it back in. Then Eric would do the same. Carla was going insane. 

Then they began to alternate. As Charlie drew out, Eric drove in. Then, as 
Charlie drove in, Eric pulled out, until just the head of his cock was 
inside her. Carla felt like she was being rolled into a grease-spot of 
pleasure by two opposing pistons. She went limp as she was incinerated by 
the incredible experience. 

Charlie and Eric lost the opposing rhythm, began fucking simultaneously. 
Carla was sure she was going to be ruptured. One minute she would be empty, 
and the next she would be bursting with towering male rods. It was rapidly 
becoming unbearable. But she didn't have the strength to tell them they had 
to stop. They were going to kill her, and she couldn't do anything about it! 
She would just have to wait until they exhausted themselves and pumped her 
full of jizz. Neither of them showed any sign of doing so, though. 

It was' going to be an exquisite, ecstatic execution. 

Then Ellen Jameson unexpectedly came to Carla's rescue. Watching the unholy 
tangle of baffles had gotten the teenager incredibly turned on. 

She had been trying desperately to duplicate the situation with her fingers. 
She had drilled three fingers into her streaming cunt, squirmed two into her 
asshole. It was a pallid imitation of the real thing. 

Finally, unable to take it any longer, Ellen hauled frantically and hungrily 
on her father, dragged him away from Carla's ass. Carla's bung closed 
slowly. It flared red as blood flooded her vessels. Freed of the brutal bulk 
up her ass, Carla struggled, and managed to heave herself free of Charlie's 
endlessly pumping cock, and fell on her back with a moan. Her body 
shuddering from the aftershock, she lay there, ignored. 

Ignored, because Ellen had leaped onto Charlie and spiked her cunt on his 
glistening hard-on. Rocking forward, she reached back and spread her 
asscheeks in blatant invitation. His body knotted with passion, Eric drilled 
his prick into his daughter's tight bung. 

Ellen's cry of pleasure penetrated to Carla's dazed brain, made the hair on 
the back of her neck rise. Turning her head, she saw Ellen getting the 
double-barreled flick she had just escaped. Ellen's lush body was being 
rolled and twisted between two humping men. The girl was coming! The flush 
blossomed over her flesh as she spasmed around the two pumping pricks. 

Charlie had been brutally jolted by Carla's unexpected escape, then 
pleasantly surprised by Ellen's sudden cuntal embrace. He had the feeling 
that if he didn't come soon, he was going to burst. When he felt Eric's cock 
driving into Ellen's asshole, Charlie knew he was going to come soon-and 
pump his overflowing load of fuck juice into Ellen's clenched cunt. 

Eric had let himself be dragged out of Carla's asshole because his cock was 
becoming numbed by the incredible stimulation. Then suddenly, he was being 
presented with another ass, and he drove the full length of his tool into 
Ellen's butt without a second thought. His prick had regained its full 
sensitivity during the brief respite. 

The two men fell into the alternating rhythm that stimulated them the most, 
and quickly jacked themselves to searing levels of pleasure. Ellen began 
orgasming madly, her two holes clenching around the living pistons in them. 

The extra tightness, blended with the shifting, stroking pleasure from the 
other man's cock was the final straw for both of them. Charlie began to 
orgasm. His cock jumped and twitched crazily. The spunk burrowed agonizingly 
down his pinched prick and spurted into Ellen's clenching twat. 

Eric felt Charlie's orgasm as an earthquake throbbing through Ellen's body. 
His own coming ripped through him like a geyser of steam. Sperm cannon 
balled from his dick, hosed Ellen's bowels. He pushed against her, trying to 
ram his cock right up through her ass and out her mouth. 

There were two spurting pricks jumping and jetting inside her! Ellen felt as 
if gasoline had been poured on the raging flames of her orgasm. Her 
consciousness was reduced to ashes by the ecstasy that was incinerating her. 

She roused slowly. Carla was leaning over her. She was being bathed with a 
warm, wet washrag. The shower in the bathroom was running. 

"Where are. . . ?" she asked. 

"Showering." "God, what an experience," Ellen sighed. Carla applied the 
soothing cloth to Ellen's pussy and bung at the same time. "Not one I'd like 
to repeat right away." "But once in a while, it's fantastic, isn't it?" 
Ellen asked. 

"Once in a while," Carla agreed. 

"It'd be nice to have a mother," Ellen said softly. "I haven't had one for a 
long time." "I think I'd like to have a husband. And Charlie needs a father. 
I doubt many fathers and Sons have the kind of relationship Eric and Charlie 
do, though," she mused. 

"What about you and me?" Ellen asked. 

Carla leaned forward and kissed Ellen on the lips. "Why don't you call me 
Mom?" "I'd like that, Mom!" The shower shut off. Soon the two men joined 
them on the bed, and they all fell asleep in a naked, tangled, loving heap. 


End