Adopted Daughter
by Rosco J. Murtson
(STAG-173)


FOREWORD 

When a household brings a strange, young female into its midst, no matter 
what the intention, sooner or later the males must consider the girl 
intruder as a sex object. That is a fact of life and a part of the 
psychology of man. It is only the "deviant" male who does not, at one time 
or another, consider every passably healthy woman as a participant in sex. 

The lib feminists may scream "foul", but it is the truth and words and 
protestations to the contrary do not change human nature. People are 
animals. Their basic drives, their basic lives start with being animals with 
animalistic reactions and habits. 

Eating gives pleasure. 

Copulating gives pleasure. 

Sleeping is unavoidable. 

Yet, these three things are the basics of human life. Without them, humanity 
would cease to exist. Eating and copulating are more refined than sleeping, 
yet they are basic animal characteristics and the body is born knowing how 
to reward the mind for doing them. 

Thus, it is a normal thing that a man put into close contact with a strange 
girl will automatically consider sex before he considers her mentality. That 
is normal. 

-THE PUBLISHER 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Fourteen-year-old Alan Dawkins clung to the limb of the tree and watched 
through the second story bedroom window as his parents got ready to screw. 
Although they were ancient beyond belief, his view of them through the thin, 
wind wafted curtain made them look as young and sexy as any of the couples 
in his father's girlie magazines. While he watched, his hand was inside his 
pants squeezing his pecker, and his mind was reaching ahead to the time when 
he'd be screwing some woman a heckuva lot better looking than his mother 
was. 

Not that Dorothy Dawkins was all that unattractive. She was thirty-four 
years old, five foot four inches tall, and only twelve pounds overweight. 
She had long, dark brown hair, touched with a few strands of gray, and when 
it was all brushed and combed it looked very nice indeed. Her skin was very 
fair, with a few freckles across her nose that belied the fact that she had 
left girlhood far behind her. She was a serious woman, almost a grumpy 
woman, even at those times when Carl Dawkins was trying to butter her up and 
take her to bed for some screwing. She had reacted grumpily when Carl had 
started fooling around with her in the kitchen that noon. 

"Get away and leave me alone," she said, when Carl's big paw took a bite of 
her soft haunch through her housedress. Young Alan had seen it all. 

"Aw, come on. Be a good sport," said Carl. "What the hell you doin' dishes 
for when you got help coming this afternoon? Relax a while. Live it up." 

"Do you think I'm going to have a sink full of dirty dishes here when Mr. 
Burnside comes with the girl?" said Dorothy, turning on her husband and 
pushing his persistent hand away again. "He's not going to leave her with us 
if he thinks we live in a pigsty. 

Now quit! Besides, Alan's looking," she said, and plucked at the errant 
bodice of her old housedress, and cast a sickly smile in Alan's direction. 

He set off whistling for the back yard and the tree, knowing his father 
would win this particular argument as always, but Carl stayed him. "You 
stick around, boy, and do up these dishes while your momma and I go upstairs 
alid have a talk about this girl that's comin' to live with us." 

"Aw, Mom! Do I have to ? " said Alan, wearing his most put-upon face. "They 
won't even come inside the kitchen." 

"You sure as hell can't bet on that, and we sure as hell can't afford to 
miss out on the hundred and fifty bucks a month we'll get for feeding and 
bedding down that girl," said his father. "Get your ass over here and start 
in on these damned dishes." 

"Aw, Mom!" said Alan, screwing his face up so badly it felt as if it might 
stay that way. 

Again his father had intervened, loudly saying, "You get your ass over here 
and do the dishes, and you, woman, get your ass up those stairs." 

Dorothy went on stacking and juggling the huge pile of dirty dishes and 
grimy pots and pans on the sink, and said, "What if some customer calls 
while we're up there? 

What then?" 

"Alan's as good a locksmith as either one of us. He can take care of it. 
Upstairs, you! Up, up, up!" said Carl, making her jump and squeal and start 
for the stairs with a steady tattoo of pinches on her full behind. "It's a 
red letter day and I feel good about it," he said, still driving her on. 
"We're finally going to get some goddamned help around here, and we're going 
to get paid for it to boot. I feel good and, by God, I'm gonna feel better. 
Up, woman! Up!" 

Alan had watched them go, had very quickly piled all the dirty dishes under 
the sink, and was up in the tree before they'd had a chance to get all their 
clothes off. 

Carl was naked and lying back on the bed, watching his wife undress with 
almost as much relish as his unseen son was experiencing watching from 
outside. Despite all the sucking and playing in the past fifteen years, 
Dorothy still had a nice set of jugs. They sagged some, but the big brown 
nipples sure didn't sag, and her tits looked pretty damned sexy when she was 
bent over like this, pushing down her dress. Her waist was still fairly 
slim, and although there was flab around her hips, they had a very womanly 
shape to them that was now helping to keep his cock in a good, stiff 
condition. All in all, Dorothy had a better shape on her than the 
fifteen-year-old girl they were taking in as a foster child starting that 
afternoon. 

Dorothy had seen to that. With all sorts of really knockout young tomatoes 
at the placement agency, she'd seen to it that they were going to take in a 
goddamned Vietnam war refugee about four feet tall, with an ass like a lunch 
bucket, and with no titties at all. Well, thought Carl, stroking his cock 
and watching good old Dotty strip down for action, perhaps the kid could be 
trained to come across with a good blow job. In any event, her presence 
around the house might inspire a hard-on or two. And the hundred and fifty 
would be damned nice, considering a girl like that could live on a pound of 
rice a week. 

"Take it all off, baby doll, and then bring it on over here," he said, 
stroking his cock in her direction as an added incentive. 

Dorothy was starting to feel at least a little like screwing, but she wanted 
it over with in a hurry. There was no chance at all of getting the money and 
the Oriental girl if Mr. Burnside came in and found her and Carl all 
disheveled and reeking of sex. She was pleased about the result of their 
long ordeal of paperwork and particularly pleased that they were getting the 
submissive, hard-working, ugly Oriental girl. And she was ugly, even for an 
Oriental. So ugly that Carl wouldn't even look twice at her, though perhaps 
not so ugly that she might look weirdly attractive to her darling Alan once 
the sap started rising in his young body that summer. And she felt it would 
start to rise that summer, and if his first hard-on pointed in the direction 
of that Asiatic midget, Dorothy vowed she'd make a shopping bag out of her 
hide. 

The sap in Alan's body had already started to rise some months ago, and now 
his curled hand encircled it as he stroked the bone hard pecker in his pants 
and watched his parents go at it again. He was even close enough to hear 
them talking as his mother sat down on the bed facing his conveniently 
placed tree, and his father sat up with his big stiff dick and took hold of 
her. 

"Nice set of tits you got there for an old lady," he said, hefting and 
squeezing them with one hand, while with the other he massaged her smooth, 
soft back. 

"And that's a nice-sized stiffie you got there, Mister," she replied, 
getting in the mood of things as she got her hand on his six solid inches of 
good, thick prick. 

"God damn, don't call me Mister and don't look at it like that," he said, 
suddenly piqued. "You sound like that no-good whoring sister of mine." 

"Don't you ever compare me to that tramp!" she replied in equal anger. "What 
the hell made you think of her anyway? Do you want to argue or do you want 
to screw? Make up your mind before Alan finishes the dishes and comes poking 
around up here." 

"I wanna screw and so do you," he said, and pushed her back on the bed and 
began to rub his hands all over the big coarse patch of hair and the 
blubbery pink lips that hair did not conceal. 

Alan didn't think his mother's hair was coarse nor did he think her cuntlips 
were blubbery. If he thought anything at all in his rapt attention to what 
was going on, it was that the big stretching triangular darkness between his 
mother's legs covered all the mysteries in the universe, and that the livid 
pink stripe running through it was more mysterious still. He almost fell out 
of the tree in trying to jerk off and look at her at the same time, for in 
this position she was beautiful, sexy, grossly seductive. 

She lay on her back with her legs widespread. Her legs were very pale, the 
calves hanging over the side of the bed quite shapely, the thighs atop it so 
soft that they quivered like Jello with the movements of his father's hand. 
Yet under that softness was strength, showing itself more and more with her 
twitching and jerking as she responded to the hand between her legs just as 
Alan was responding to his own hand around his pecker. Her tits had 
flattened to soft mounds on her chest, capped with those intriguing dark 
nipples that Alan had once sucked on. Her belly was a lower, smoother mound, 
but moving with a somehow exciting rhythm as her breathing increased with 
her growing pleasure. 

"Oh, Carl. Oh, baby. Yeah, rub me up, honey. Make me feel good," she said, 
doing a horizontal shimmy with her hips, and with her tits, and fluttering 
her hands over their bedspread until she got one of them curled around her 
husband's cock again. 

"Yeah, baby," said Carl, excitement steeply rising in him now. "Doesn't that 
feel good? Hah? Think how that'd taste, baby. How 'bout a little kiss, 
Dotty-baby. How'd you like to suck on that big thing, for just a minute. 
Hah?" 

Young Alan didn't know if he wanted to see his mother do that sort of thing 
or not, but he didn't think of looking away and she didn't think of doing 
it. She just said, "Aw, honey. Put it in me. I need it bad now. And we don't 
have much time before Mr. Burn-side shows up with the girl. Oh! Oh, baby. 
I'm so ready," she said, churning up the bedspread with her ass, moving it 
counter to the rotation of Carl's hand. 

How wet she was! Alan didn't know if she was pissing or what, but he knew 
she sure was wet. Her wetness glistened all about her inner thighs as Carl's 
hand rubbed her all around between her legs, sticking his fingers right up 
inside her somehow, and then using his big broad palm on her hairy crotch. 
It never ceased to amaze the boy how this sort of thing could transform his 
mother from the phlegmatic woman she usually was into this agitated bundle 
of excitement he was beholding. But then, sex had an equally remarkable 
effect on the state of his body as well, especially the state of his pecker. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh, CAR-R-R-R-R-RL!" she cried out in a voice that rose in both 
volume and tone. "Oh, honey! Feels so good! Do me! Oh, fuck me! Carl, SCREW 
ME! NOW!" 

She threw both legs up in the air, showing her quivering, quaking white 
buttocks, and the extension of the deep hairy crack between her legs. Alan 
was bug-eyed watching her, squeezing and stroking his prick and starting to 
reach that point where it all felt so good he couldn't tell if it hurt or 
not. And if his hand felt this good, how much better would it feel if he 
ever got to screw a real live girl? Even an Oriental one!! ! How much better 
could it feel?? ? . 

At this point in their screwing, Carl always rolled around and positioned 
himself between Dorothy's highly elevated legs in a way that pretty much 
blotted out the view of the mechanics of what they were actually doing. Oh, 
it was still hugely exciting and intriguing to young Alan, but he'd never 
actually seen for himself the real, true insertion of his father's big hard 
cock within his mother's womb. On this day, however, for whatever reason 
grownups have for doing things, Carl did it in a different way. Much to 
Alan's keen interest. 

"Get your ass up off the bed and get up on all fours and let's do it like 
the Cocker Spaniels do," he said, and playfully slapped her and pulled and 
hauled at her to get her to do as he said. 

"Oh, hurry, Carl! Just get it in me. You got me so goddam hot I can't see 
straight. Stick it in me, lover-man. I love every bit of it!" 

She was up on all fours like a dog, in profile to Alan, her big, fat, sexy 
tits dangling down like bagsful of milk. Her belly hung down and her back 
was swayed. Her rump stuck high in the air and her head hung down so low 
that her hair obscured her face, and all in all she was so grossly sexy that 
Alan was ashamed of himself for thinking the thoughts he had at that time. 

His father, in contrast, looked like some kind of an ape. He was up on his 
knees behind her, grinning and holding his huge cock in one hand, while with 
the other he dug fingers deep into Dorothy's velvety white hip, as if to 
steady her for the horrendous insertion of a dick far too large for her 
little body. Alan watched it all, felt sympathy for his mother and anger for 
his father and tried not to squeeze too soon. 

Alan's horror and his interest grew by leaps and bounds as he saw-actually 
witnessed-the great big bulbous end of his father's dick push inside his 
mother's gyrating body. She squealed and squirmed and tossed back her hair, 
apparently in anguish, though on closer observation her emotion was 
pleasure, and Carl snarled and grinned and pushed some more of his big thick 
dong into her body. 

At that point Alan frowned, let go of his dick, and reached down between his 
legs to gingerly touch his asshole. That was where it was done! He'd always 
thought it was done in a woman's pee-hole, located someplace in the hairy 
triangle, but now it was obvious and logical and somehow it was very strange 
that he had learned that it was done in a woman's asshole. Women's assholes 
sure had to be a lot different than men's he decided, because there was no 
way in the world that a thing as big as his father's dong would fit up 
inside his own butt. Queasy with disgust, he returned his hand to his 
pecker, and as if by magic the queasiness disappeared and the interest 
returned. 

Carl almost always fucked Dorothy in the butt because in his opinion her 
cunt had become too loose and sloppy for his prick. And because she liked it 
just as well. Oh, he'd screw her in her cunt on special occasions, like 
Christmas and birthday, but in their normal, day to day screwing, it was 
almost invariably in her ass hole. It had started when they'd been worried 
about having more kids, had continued when Dorothy had gotten used to it, 
and had proliferated when she got to like it just as much or even better 
than the old-fashioned way. 

He liked it too. It was tight. 

He usually did it from the front, lying atop her with her legs high in the 
air and her tits conveniently placed for his hands to get hold of. He liked 
it that way also because then he could look at her face, kiss her lips, 
because she was still an attractive woman to him, despite her advancing age. 
But on occasion-and this was one of them-he liked to screw her in the ass 
dog-fashion, because then it was easier for him to get off on the sexual 
fantasies that a new issue of Playboy or Hustler or Penthouse inspired in 
him. He hadn't gotten a new mag in over a week now, however, and yet he was 
screwing his wife from behind. He was kneading her softly commodious hips 
with his hands and slowly sawing his big dick in and out of her, gazing up 
at the familiar stained ceiling and listening to the female's moans of deep 
pleasure, and thinking about all the other girls they might have taken in as 
a foster child instead of the flat-chested gook kid. 

Even the little plump nigger gal would have been better. At least she'd had 
an ass on her. And what an ass. . . . 

And the thin, wan-looking girl with the frizzy brown hair, the one who 
looked like what they call a speed-freak, she'd have been better yet, with a 
hot little cunt so tight it could wring jism out of a man's cock before it 
was halfway up inside her.. . . 

That very shapely twelve-year-old blonde with the clear blue very wide eyes, 
she would have been too much to hope for. Already a perfect ass at twelve, 
and tits to match! What a fine, firm cunt she'd bring into the house. . . . 

And that big, tall, blonde Norwegian looking girl with the jutting tits and 
the lo-o-o-o-n-n-ng legs. Too much to hope for again, but not too much to 
think about. . . . 

The Puerto Rican girl, with the fiery peppers in her tight little twat, and 
the need to be tamed by a bull like him. . . . 

The curly-topped redhead with the scar on her forehead and the fine little 
ass that didn't seem able to be held still. . . . 

The mulatto girl, with lips specifically designed to fit around a cock the 
same specific size of the one that was sliding ever faster in and out of the 
tight, warm ring of his middle-aging wife's ass hole. . . . . 

And he'd gotten stuck with the goddamned dwarfy slopehead, thanks to good 
old Dotty, and even with that there was the monthly money to be thankful for 
and the much more immediate pleasures of cumming, cumming, CUMMING in the 
hot hole of his wailing and gasping and orgasming woman and feeling for a 
moment as if his dick was inside the cunts and the mouths of every one of 
the abandoned girls they'd seen at the placement agency. 

"OH! OH, CARL! YEAH! YEAH, YYEAH, YEAH!" 

"NN-N-N-N-NGGH! YEAH! YOU'RE 

GETTIN' IT! AL-L-L-L-L!! ! " 

And outside, Alan was saying most urgently, "Don't hurt her! Oh! Oh, Dad! 
Oh, Momma! OH! OH! OH-H-H-H-H-H, WOW!" 

Carl was shooting a good, heavy load of jism up inside Dorothy's ass hole 
and Dorothy was rubbing her gushing cunt and cumming and grunting with him 
and young Alan outside was stifling at least some of his whoops of 
masturbatory ecstasy/agony and creaming forcefully inside his jockeys. And 
down below them all, winding up the hill through the tall green wild oats 
just outside of town, was Placement Advisor Henry Burnside's two-year-old 
Ford, with Henry Burnside at the wheel and a very frightened and most 
non-Oriental girl at his side. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Ellie Olson was the new foster child's name, and at fifteen she was a real 
beauty. She stood five foot six inches tall on long, silky legs. Her hips 
were slim but quite womanly and her buttocks were smooth, prominent ovals. 
Her waist was narrow and her belly was flat. She had a fine young pair of 
upstanding firm titties that showed themselves proudly even in the shapeless 
gray dress provided her by the placement agency. Her face was oval shaped, 
her lips a lovely soft pink, and her eyes were deep blue. Her eyebrows were 
a soft, downy tan, her brow was high and her nose was straight. The 
complexion on her youthfully lovely face was the same as that all over her 
body,, perfectly clear and unsullied. Her hair was wavy and golden when it 
was all brushed out, but now it was drawn back into two tight pigtails that 
hung down her back. She sat with her work blistered hands clenched tightly 
in her lap as the slight, dapper Mr. Burnside drove her up the rise toward 
the place which was to be her new home, and she was scared of it all. 

It was old and a little run down, but there seemed to be nothing fearful 
about the small two story house set up on the grassy knoll just outside of 
town. It had a porch in the front, some out-buildings in the back, a panel 
truck in the dirt driveway, and a tall bushy tree spreading over the 
driveway and the truck. Lettering on the truck read Dawkins and Son, 
Locksmiths. There wasn't a sign of life around the house or the truck as Mr. 
Burnside drove closer. But then from out of the tree dropped a boy with 
curly black hair and wildly staring eyes, who no sooner hit the ground 
before he started running toward the back of the house. 

"That's young Alan Dawkins," said Mr. Burnside, as he brought the car to a 
halt. "He's just a year or so younger than you, Ellie. You two will probably 
be going to school on the same bus together once the fall semester starts," 
he said, and gave her a pat on the knee that was meant to be reassuring, but 
that she couldn't help but flinch from. 

Hardly a man had ever touched Ellie Olson until after the death of her 
mother a month before. She had lived in a small house with her mother all of 
her life, getting more companionship and education from that lady than she 
did at any of the schools she went to. Ellie and her mother had lived a 
happy, serenely tranquil life, existing on a widow's annuity that Ellie's 
mother received. It was just large enough to provide them the food and 
shelter and minimal recreations they had, with enough left over for Ellie's 
mother to be able to quietly drink herself to death. The principal part of 
the annuity was supposed to have lasted young Ellie through her twenty-fifth 
year, but somehow funeral expenses and lawyer's fees had taken every penny 
of it. The sale of their furniture had covered the lawyer's closing costs 
and at that point Ellie had been taken to the placement agency so that she 
could be provided with a proper home and a decent family. Still she was very 
frightened because of the horrid and incomprehensible tales told by the 
other girls during her brief stay at the agency dormitory. Nevertheless she 
shed not a tear as Mr. Burnside led her up to the front door of the house, 
with everything she had in the world either on her back or in the small red 
suitcase she held so tightly in her hand. 

At Mr. Burnside's first knock the door was jerked open and there was a large 
man with unkempt reddish hair and a huge grin standing before them. Half 
behind him, still staring widely and grinning as broadly as the man, was the 
boy Ellie had seen drop out of the tree. Ellie tried to smile back at them, 
but the trembling of her chin and the misting of her eyes made it almost 
impossible to do so. 

"Well, well, well, well, well!" said the man, his voice booming ever louder. 
Then he glanced quickly over his shoulder and his voice grew soft as he 
said, "Mr. Burnside, it's terrific to see you, just terrific. The wife's 
upstairs, ah, taking a nap and, ah . . . is this our new, ah, daughter? I 
mean, ah, was Young Duck Foo or whatever-her-name was taken in by some other 
family?" 

"I know you and Mrs. Dawkins will be disappointed," Burnside crisply said, 
"but Duk Lie Fong's family came to the agency and took her with them. I 
brought Ellie Olson by to see if you'd like to take her in as a foster child 
instead." 

"Like to? Take her in?" said Mr. Dawkins, grin splitting his face, while the 
black haired boy behind him bounced up and down in his excitement, and while 
Ellie's heart warmed to this unexpected welcome from these total strangers. 

"Come right inside!" said Mr. Dawkins, and placed a big moist hand on 
Ellie's arm, and pulled her in his house. "I suppose you got papers for me 
and Dorothy to sign, Mr. Burnside, and I'm sure you're in a big hurry. So if 
you'll just, ah. . . . " 

He reached for Burnside's briefcase and Burnside drew it away from him, 
opened it himself, and while Mr. Dawkins wrung his hands in his impatience 
to officially welcome Ellie, the papers were produced. Mr. Dawkins snatched 
them up and started for the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, "I'll get a 
pen. I'll get Dorothy to sign them. You wait right there. I'll just be a 
minute." 

Ellie was starting to feel a little better, but the wait was uncomfortable. 
The boy was staring at her like some of the boys at school had during this 
last year when she'd started to grow, and it made her feel embarrassed, 
because she knew how tall and gangly she was. Mr. Burnside tried to engage 
the boy in conversation about school and his work as a junior locksmith, and 
the boy answered in distracted monosyllables while he kept on staring at 
Ellie. Mr. Dawkins was back almost right away, waving the papers and saying, 
"Here you go. All set. Dorothy signed them and fell right back to sleep. She 
ain . . . she hasn't been feeling too good today. Elliemy, what a pretty 
name-came by at just the right time. She can help with some of the chores, 
like sweeping off the porch and dusting the furniture. Well, I know you got 
to go, Mr. B. I know you're a busy man. You come by any time and see how 
Ellie's doing. Bye-bye." 

Ellie felt that the placement man wanted to say something else, but then all 
at once he was gone and she was all alone in this strange house with the 
people who had been good enough to volunteer to care for her. Both the 
Dawkins males were grinning at her now and she felt hot embarrassment creep 
through her as she stood there with her suitcase clutched before her. They 
just stood there and stared and grinned, until at last Ellie had to overcome 
her natural shyness and break the silence. 

"Maybe I could. . . make Mrs. Dawkins a cup of tea. My mother always enjoyed 
that when she was . . . feeling ill." 

"Aw, Dorothy'll be okay," said Mr. Dawkins through his grin. "She'll 
probably be coming down in a couple of minutes to meet you. Meantime you 
come sit down on the couch with me and we'll get acquainted. Alan, you go 
see to it that Ellie's room is ready for her." 

"Aw, Pop! I want to get acquainted with her too!" 

"Get your . . . self to her room!" he said, with such force that Ellie 
cringed back from him. 

"Aw, Pop!" said the boy, and his father raised a fist at him that sent him 
scurrying and that utterly shocked young Ellie. 

Once again the man's mood changed, immediately. He was all smiles again and 
he took her suitcase from her and sat her down on the couch with him, arm 
about her shoulders in a most fatherly fashion. He was smiling so warmly 
that his hand hardly scared her at all when he placed it on her knee, 
saying, "Well, I sure hope you like it here, Ellie. You sure are a pretty 
girl, dear, and I hope we get to know each other real good. I always wanted 
a daughter. And you're such a big, strong, fine girl any man would be proud 
to have you as his own," he said, moving his hand up from her knee, testing 
the firmness of her thinly covered thigh. 

Fear and embarrassment surged up in her and she tried to push his hand away, 
and right away he took her hand in his, looked compassionately at the 
blisters on it, and said, "Oh, you poor little girl! Whatever have they been 
doing to you at that awful place to give you these blisters?" 

"It was my fault!" she quickly explained. "They . . . the matron asked me to 
weed the yard, and it felt so good to be out in the sunshine that I did too 
much. She was mad when she saw the blisters I got. It wasn't her fault. They 
were nice to me there." 

"Well, we're going to be even nicer to you here," he said, hugging her by 
the shoulders, just like the father she'd never had might have done, and 
stroking her back that had gone all tense on the long drive to her new home. 
"Yeah, Ellie, we're going to treat you right. I'll see to that. Just like my 
own daughter. You won't get any blisters here while I'm around. My, such 
pretty hands. Such a pretty girl. Oh, you're going to like it here." 

No one-except her mother, of course-had ever told her she was pretty. It 
felt nice, especially after the maelstrom of being moved from one place to 
another since the death of her mother. Mr. Dawkins' hands felt nice too, 
soothing away her inner tension, petting her like a cherished kitten, just 
being close to her. He didn't smell nice, though. He smelled of sweat and 
something else she couldn't identify, and though the smell wasn't nice, 
neither was it exactly repulsive. Just a man's smell, she supposed, and one 
that she could get used to as she became his foster daughter and he and his 
good wife cared for her as if she was their own. She thought she'd be happy 
there, she knew she's be happy thereuntil Mrs. Dawkins made her sudden 
shrill appearance. 

"Just what the hell's going on here!? ! Where's the Oriental girl?! ? What 
are you doing on the couch with that . . . that girl?! ? " she said, dark 
eyes blazing as she entered the room, grinning son right behind her. 

Mr. Dawkins got his hands off Ellie in a hurry, rose to place himself before 
the irrate woman of the house. He said, "Dotty, the gook girl's folks took 
her back home with them. This here is Ellie Olson. I couldn't help what they 
gave us. She'll work hard. See how big she is?" he said, and stood aside 
from the timidly cowering girl, letting his wife glare darkly at her. 

She looked at Ellie's titties-right at them!-and then down at her loins in a 
most shaming way, and she said, "Yeah. She's big all right. And she's going 
right back to where she came from!" 

"It's too late!" he said. "The papers are all signed! She can't go back now. 
Aw, Dotty, it'll work out all. . . . " 

"I didn't sign any goddamned papers!" she shrieked, though Ellie, cringing 
back, knew she had. 

Mr. Dawkins imposed his big presence before his angry wife and said, "She's 
staying, woman, and that's that. But we're not gonna argue about it in front 
of Ellie. Alan, take her to her room. No, on second thought, don't." 

"Damn right he's not going to take her to her room!" said Mrs. Dawkins. 

"Aw, Mom!" said Alan. 

"Find some work for her to do while we talk," said Mr. Dawkins. "After all, 
that's all she's here for," he said, and managed to wink surreptitiously at 
Ellie through his angry scowl. 

"She could do the dishes!" Alan piped up. 

"I thought you already did 'em! Never mind. Take her in the kitchen and 
start her on the dishes while your mother and I have ourselves a little 
talk." 

Away Ellie went to the kitchen, where a mountain of dirty dishes was 
produced from under the sink. The 'little talk' going on in the living room 
was quite loud and angry, and she knew very well that she'd be going back to 
the agency after doing this one chore for the Dawkins family. She hated to 
leave them. The boy, now seated at the kitchen table and still grinning 
broadly at her, wouldn't be missed by her. Mrs. Dawkins might be nice when 
she wasn't angry, though at the moment Ellie wouldn't miss her. But she 
would miss Mr. Dawkins, the first man who had ever said she was pretty, and 
that he wanted to have her as his daughter. As she did the work with her 
sore hands in the hot water, she wished she could stay there and get to know 
and like all of them, for it would break her heart to have to go back to the 
agency over any reason at all, especially one that she couldn't even 
understand. 

The argument raged up and down in volume while Ellie worked. After a while 
Mr. Dawkins came in and reached up into a cabinet beside her, his closeness 
warm against her side, and pulled down a bottle. "A little cherry cordial 
always calms her down," he softly said to Ellie, and his hand accidentally 
brushing the swell of her thinly covered buttock brought the weirdest sort 
of warm chill running through her. 

They quieted some in the living room after that. The boy they called Alan 
still kept sitting there watching her and making her nervous as she dried 
the dishes and tried to put them away in their proper places. His hands were 
crossed over his lap and he rubbed himself there from time to time, never 
letting his gaze roam from her, never offering to help her. 

At length he sighed and said, "Boy. You sure got 'em." 

"Yes," she demurely said. "I think I've got them all put away in their right 
places now. Do you know of anything else I could do here?" 

His broad grin turned broader, and he said, "I know something you could do 
over here." 

She walked to the table, blandly said, "Yes, Alan?" And he drew his hands 
away from his lap and looked down at it, expecting her to do the same. 

She saw nothing amiss, except that he had a jack knife or a pen light in his 
pocket, and when she asked again if she could do something, he said, "Yeah. 
You could sit down on this." 

"What ever for?" she said, and started to back away. 

His hand came out and caught her wrist. Despite the fact that he was smaller 
and probably weaker than she, she became frightened and tried to twist away. 

But he held her hard, and there was an ugly urgent whisper in his voice as 
he said, "Come on! Sit down on it. They do it. We can too. Come on. don't 
you wanna . . . screw?" 

"No!" Ellie squealed, and twisted away from him. She really was frightened 
of him now, for before she'd thought he was just retarded, but now she saw 
he was dangerous, there was a hateful glow in his eyes as he came at her and 
his hands reaching out at her looked like claws. He was backing her up into 
a corner and if she'd gone ahead and panicked he would have caught her 
there. But then at the last moment she bolted for the door with him right 
behind her. 

"Wait!" he said, voice all full of ugliness, claw touching her shoulder, 
then ripping the back of her dress as she yelped and rushed out through the 
door, into the sunshine and off into a world of strangers, anywhere but away 
from the boy who was right behind her. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

With long legs like hers, Ellie knew she could easily outdistance the boy 
gone mad. But she was being hampered by her torn dress, and her panic rose 
in her flight as she heard his racing footsteps thumping behind her. She ran 
through the back yard and past the outbuildings into a field of thigh-high 
wild oats, and the tall grass further slowed her down. Ahead was freedom and 
at least temporary safety, and Ellie's first goal before her searing lungs 
collapsed was a copse of trees where at least the grass was shorter. She 
never made it. With still fifty yards to go to the trees she was tackled 
from behind and rolled into a ball of flying skirts and arms and legs and 
coarse greenery. She was too winded to scream, but still a big hand was 
clamped over her mouth and she looked up to see Mr. Dawkins lying half atop 
her grinning down at her. 

"Hush, honey," he panted. "It's okay now. We just lie still here and they 
won't find us till Dotty's cooled down some." 

Already she was calming down, and his warm reassurances were further 
soothing her, but still he kept his hand over her mouth as he said, "What'd 
that boy of mine try to do to you? Did he try to cop a feel? Honest to God, 
the way kids are nowadays, still and all, I can't really blame him. You're 
such a pretty thing," he said, and his hand eased away from her mouth, 
touched the racing pulse in her throat, and warmly squeezed her shoulder. 

"He came at me! I didn't know what he was going to do!" she said. "If I'd 
known it was you behind me I wouldn't have . . . " 

"Hush!" he harshly whispered, for the voice of his wife could now be heard, 
slurred by still as angry as before. 

"Carl, you bring that girl in here! You hear? I got a switch and I'm gonna 
take it to you both, I swear I will, unless you show yourselves right now! 
Carl! CARL!" 

They heard her ranting and raving back and forth across the big open field, 
with Alan beating the tall grass along with her. "Calm down and be still and 
they won't find us," said Carl, chuckling, and then his big hand went down 
to cup Ellie's left breast-very thoroughly-and a look of concern came over 
his face and he said, "God, your little heart's just going a mile a minute. 
Poor thing, it just ain't right for a gal to be so scared as you are. Easy 
does it. I got you and you're safe now. Everything's going to be okay," he 
said, massaging her chest. He was a rock of salvation to cling to while 
danger lurked all about them in the tall grass. 

The sun was warm and so was his hand. Ellie knew if she just lay perfectly 
still and put herself in his hands, everything would be al right. Mrs. 
Dawkins was making terrible threats about skinning her alive, and Ellie jut 
lay there, arms flung back, finding vast comfort in Carl's massaging hand 
and in his confident smile. He was quite old enough to be the father she'd 
never known and thus she felt safe and grateful to him. He knew how to touch 
her and hold her, too, to add to her feeling of security. 

When her left breast was all warm and soft again and when her heart had 
stopped its wild pounding, his hand moved downward to still more of the 
fluttering in her body. The angry voice of the woman and the distracting 
shouts of the boy continued, and Mr. Dawkins could help her ignore them as 
he spoke to her softly, loving- 

"Yeah, you're such a pretty thing. You just stick with me, be still, and 
you'll be safe. Nice, strong, young body. She's liable to kill you with that 
switch if she finds you, but you keep still and everything will be all 
right. Such long, strong legs I could hardly catch up with you," he said. 

His big right hand was massaging her legs now. They were bare, because her 
skirt had flown up high when he'd tackled her to save her. "Strong, smooth 
legs, so soft and white. It'd be a shame to see 'em all striped red from 
that switch she's got. Such a pretty gal, I can't get over it. And you got a 
grass stain here from where you fell on your shoulder," he said, and laid 
his whiskery cheek her shoulder, bared from the way Alan had torn her dress, 
and even his whiskers felt good. 

"Quiet now!" he whispered, for Mrs. Dawkins and Alan were very close, on 
either side of them. 

She didn't have to he told. She lay as still as a fallen leaf, flattening 
herself further against the matted quilt of grass, while he lay half on top 
of her, protecting her with his body and his hands. One of his hands was 
around her shoulders, the other was now softly clutching her between the 
legs, where she felt she'd wet her panties if she was found and whipped so 
unmercifully. His cheek lay against the soft sensitive upper swell of her 
left breast now, and the movement of his breathing and the fear in her had 
her niple up hard and extremely sensitive. His fingers moved too, softly 
kneading her shoulder, even more softly kneading the tensed mound of her 
pubis. She was starting to pant in her excited fear and she knew Mrs. 
Dawkins could hear her labored breathing. She felt hot and feverish from it 
and wanted nothing more than to throw her arms about Carl Dawkins and 
forever be safe in that security, but still the only movement between them 
came from his hands and his lips, on her shoulder and her breast and between 
her legs. 

The voices and the brush-beating passed on. Ellie sighed with relief, and 
Carl's hand slipped further down between her legs as he raised up to 
cautiously look arund them over the tall grass. 

She started to raise too, for she felt very restless, but he pushed her back 
down, saying, "Stay still, honey. They'll be back, and we can't face old 
Dotty till she's calmed down some. I got you. You're safe. Oh, look. Your 
pretty dress is all torn." 

She knew it wasn't pretty, but it certainly was torn, and he took his hand 
from her crotch to pluck at it and pull it down from her shoulder to inspect 
it better. "You got skin like white satin," he said, and peeled down her bra 
strap there. He kissed her shoulder in her growing protective affection for 
her and she lay there submissively, trusting him fully, while his big right 
hand smoothed itself up and down her side, squeezing her willowy waist and 
kneading her buttock and thigh, going between her legs again to massage her 
slightly perspiring thighs and cunny. The search was going on far away now, 
by the trees, and Ellie could relax a little and feel wonderfully safe and 
free from all her recent anguishes. 

"You got grass stains on your little bottom too?" he said, squeezing her 
slowly relaxing fanny again. "Roll over and let's see. We're safe for a 
minute." 

She did as she was told, and she didn't mind and was hardly embarrassed at 
all when this very good man lifted her skirt all the way up and inspected 
the backs of her legs and her cotton covered bottom, both with his eyes and 
with his hands. 

He patted her and squeezed her and stroked her there while she snuggled her 
glowing body against the warm earth. Her titties and even her cunny felt all 
tingling and strange, and it felt extra good to snuggle these parts of 
herself against the fragrant greenery under her, while Carl's big hand 
explored the small of her back and the backs of her thighs and the smooth 
oval mounds of her fanny. 

"God damn, you really got a body," he murmured. His profanity embarrassed 
her, but his flattery was wonderful. "You still a virgin? you ever been 
laid?" 

"L-Laid?" she murmured. "You mean, with a boy? Oh, no," she said. "I 
wouldn't do that." 

He chuckled and squeezed her bottom and said, "We'll see about that. Are you 
ticklish?" he said, and immediately his fingers changed from instruments of 
reassurance to devices of tortuous delight. 

The danger around her was completely forgotten as Carl tickled her into 
delightedly helpless giggling. In her ribs and under her arms, those 
obviously sensitive parts of her body, were only starting places for a man 
of Carl Dawkins' fatherly experience in tickling a child, and in minutes he 
had Ellie's body in such a condition of giggling sensitivity that everyplace 
he touched her had her writhing anew. 

Her dress tore further as she thrashed abut in the tall weeds, responding 
uncontrollably to each movement of his probing fingers. He chuckled along 
with her gigglings, finding and using ever new areas on her body to delight 
with his roughly wonderful hands. Now she hadn't a care in the world as she 
squirmed and writhed and giggled against him in the warm summer sun, while 
he plucked at her titties and played with her ribs, pushed fingers in the 
crack of her fanny and tickled her cunny till she thought she couldn't stand 
it. 

In desperation she drew a deep breath and gasped, "Stop! Carl, stop or I'll 
wet my pants!" 

"Oh, you have to go, do you?" he said, and concentrated his tickling efforts 
down there. "Do you have to make a wee-wee, honey?" he said, and slipped his 
hand down inside her panties before she could do a thing to stop him. 

"Oh, don't! Please!" she begged, hugely embarrassed by it now, but still 
giggling even as his big fingers moved all around the wetted lips of her 
prim little cunny. "I will wet myself if you don't stop!" 

He was panting softly too, and his face was flushed red from the sun and 
from their tussling in the grass. His fingers were moving more slowly but 
more deeply against her cunny, all swollen with her need to urinate, and now 
some big hard thing in his pants that she knew she was afraid of was being 
rubbed against her hip. 

He murmured, "You can't hold something inside of you forever. We'll both 
take a pee pretty soon. God damn, you really are a pretty thing," he said, 
quite serious now, and hot embarrassment rose all through Ellie's young 
body. The bodice of her dress was torn and one of her titties was completely 
exposed. Her skirt was up around her waist and her panties were down around 
her hips, her shoes were both gone and this man she'd just met and come to 
trust had his fingers on her naked cunny. He was looking at her in a way 
that made her wonder about the relative dangers outside of their nest in the 
grass. But still she lay there, not moving because she didn't know if she 
should, and letting the good feelings seep through just because it had been 
so long since she felt good at all. 

Ellie gave a start as his finger touched some part of her cunny just too 
sensitive to be touched. She murmured a weakly delirious protest and did try 
to move away then, even tried to cover up her bare titty. But her purred his 
words of reassurance and she became submissive again, and able to stand for 
and almost enjoy it when he touched her that way again and again, slowly and 
gently. 

"That's right," he purred. "You know I'm going to take good care of you. I'm 
your friend, and you're my best gal. I just want to make you feel good, all 
over, all the time," he said, and he licked his lips and his smiling mouth 
descended toward hers. 

She murmured a little moan and felt her whole body try to reach up to him. 
His strong arms went around her and helped it along, and though his mouth 
was hard and big on hers, it felt wonderful to be kissed with such pure, 
deep affection as she'd never before known in her life. 

Ellie writhed against him in an ecstasy of pure, innocent intimacy. Her arms 
were around him too and she clung to him, desperate for this moment to live 
on forever. The big hard thing in his pants was against her belly now and 
she couldn't be afraid of it. His right hand hoisted up her left leg over 
his, grasped her by the fanny and pulled her wonderfully hard against his 
strength, and she moaned through the heavy kiss and tried to squirm even 
harder against him. 

He was rubbing her cunny from behind now, fingers pushing through the thin 
cotton crotch band of her panties. She was now perspiring so much down there 
that the cotton crotch band was all slick with moisture and felt more like 
satin than cotton against her warmly squirming cunny. 

Panic suddenly had hold of every part of Ellie's body. He shouldn't be 
touching her like that and she shouldn't be lying on top of him, letting him 
kiss her. She said, "Please don't! We should go back! I should go back to 
the agency! Your wife doesn't want me here!" 

"But I want you here and you're gonna stay," said he, easily holding her 
closer as now she tried to squirm away from him. "God, you're a pretty 
thing. You and me are going to have such good times together. Firm young 
titties and smooth skin and a gorgeous little ass and a tight little 
virgin's cunt that's just itchin' to feel my prick in it," he said, and the 
full horror of what he was doing struck her, and her struggles in his 
bear-hug increased. 

"That's it, baby!" he said. "Rub that hot little body against my cock! God 
damn, it's almost better than fucking. Rub it up against me and I'll cum 
real good for you." 

"No! Let me go!" she cried. He just laughed and dug his thick fingers deeper 
into the thinly covered softness between her legs. 

"Let's get rid of these," he said. He caught a big handful of her damp and 
twisted panties, and ripped away their crotch band and half their seat. 

His finger went right inside her cunny then! Ellie would have screamed for 
help and taken the beating from Mrs. Dawkins then but he was hugging her so 
hard she couldn't breathe and she was panting so fast she couldn't speak. 

He had his finger in her hole and she couldn't stand it! She was weeping and 
struggling wildly, and wave after wave of frighteningly dizzy feelings were 
sweeping through her. Ellie couldn't hold still if she'd tried. She was 
grunting and gasping and squirming on top of him and he kept right on 
burrowing the big end of his finger in the portals of her hole and saying 
awful things to her, things she didn't fully understand but which seemed to 
be adding to the spiraling feelings throughout her churning body. 

"Oh yeah, you like to get finger-fucked. Such a sweet, pretty, horny virgin. 
You'll like getting my cock in you even better. That is one tight cunt you 
got, Ellie, and it sure does feel wet and nice. Feel that big dick up 
against your belly? That's going to be inside you before the day is out, and 
you're going to really go nuts then. Yeah, rub up against it, honey. 
Oh-h-h-h, that really feels good! I'm gonna show you all there is to know 
about fucking, and you're gonna love every bit of it. Beautiful titties and 
sweet little mouth that's gonna love sucking cock. I'm gonna have a taste of 
your twat too, and I'm gonna show you how good it feels to be fucked back 
here, too," he said. Ellie's horror and panic and dizziness rose to 
unbearable heights as he plunged his finger, all wet with her cuntal 
perspiration, right up her fanny! 

"Don't! Please! Can't stand it!" she gasped, fully out of control now and 
quite ineffectual in her strugglings. 

The widely squirming finger went in still deeper in answer to her pleas. 
Doubling and even tripling her frenzied panic, another was pushed back in 
her cunny. Every part of her now was concentrated on escaping from them and 
the mad, mad itching they inspired, but she had no coordination at all other 
than to churn her naked bottom around and pant against his whiskery throat. 

"Yeah! Oh, yeah-h-h-h-h!! ! " he moaned, and Ellie was suddenly much more 
aware of the long hard thing pressed against her squirming belly. 

He was pushing it against her in hard, stabbing rhythm and he had both hands 
around her hips to hold her right where he wanted her. His fingers were 
doing shocking, unbelievable things to her two crotch holes, and now the 
base of his hard thing was rasping through his pants at a part of her that 
itched more fiendishly than anything else. 

"Uh! Uh! UH-H-H-H!" She groaned, in unison with the waves and waves of 
dizzying pleasure, yes wonderful pleasure, that now swept through her. She 
was rubbing that part of her crotch against his hardness as hard as she 
could. The fingers roiling inside her were things of magical beauty, no 
matter how disgusting they were. It was like kissing a toad and having him 
change into a prince, she wildly thought, as glorious things happened 
everywhere in her and he shoved and squirmed right along with her, urgently, 
even moaning with her until at last his magical hands relaxed on her and he 
sighed deeply and lay still. 

"Yeah, you're gonna like it here," he said, and she lay shivering warmly on 
top of him, frankly basking in the residues of those tremendous feelings 
she'd been so afraid of at first. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Mr. Dawkin's big chest heaved in a sigh and he rudely rolled Ellie off him 
onto the matted grass. He sat up and said, "Whew! Best dry fuck I ever had 
in my life. You're quite a gal," he said, and pinched her bare fanny in a 
way that hurt and made her jump, but that sent another hot tingle through 
her too. She lay there trying to figure it all out as he got up on his hands 
and knees and looked around over the tall grass. 

"I guess old Dotty's gave up and went inside," he said. "That damn Alan's 
probably still out beating the bushes for you, but I sure don't see him. We 
better go on inside and get it over with. But first we better take a piss, 
eh?" 

On his knees, facing her head on and grinning, he unzipped his trousers and 
reached inside. Ellie blushed, but she couldn't help watching him. There was 
a wet stain on his pants where the big hard thing that she'd felt against 
her had been, and now she was almost ill with a strange desire to see what 
that hard thing actually was. 

Then he flopped it out, a limber thing hardly bigger than his finger, with a 
sticky wet eye in the middle of its utterly weird looking pink knob. She 
knew it was his penis, but she wondered if she'd just imagined it being big 
and hard or if he had something else in there along with it. 

"Ever see a man piss before?" 

She shook her head, not wanting to see it now, but unable to turn away from 
it. 

He sighed and she jumped when it started to spurt its urine. He chuckled and 
she drew back when he waved it around and the stream of yellow spattered 
close to her bare foot. "God damn, that feels good," he said, and Ellie 
suddenly realized just how badly she had to pee, and how squirmy and warm 
she felt while watching him do it. It finally slowed to a halt, and then she 
felt several quick, dizzy rushes of inner sensation when he made it squirt 
and squirt till it was empty. 

"You better take a pee now, honey," he said. "We're liable to run into a 
long argument when we get inside the house." 

She was blushing and feeling feverish as she weakly said, "Not when you're 
watching. I just couldn't." 

He laughed and said, "After all we've been to each other? You watched me, 
didn't you? But if you're shy, go ahead and turn your back. I won't look." 

She really had to go. And if Mrs. Dawkins caught her and took that switch to 
her she'd surely wet her panties. If she had any panties. They were in 
shreds. The whole crotch ripped out. She pulled what was left of them up 
instead of down, her torn skirt too, as she got her back to him and squatted 
disgracefully over the warm, fragrant wild oats. It was something she'd 
never have dreamed of doing in front of another person, but then everything 
that had happened to her in the past month was as unreal as this was. 

As badly as she had to go, it wouldn't start at first. Then when it did it 
came in a rush of hot pee and wonderful relief. She felt the relief all over 
her body-until Mr. Dawkin's big hand slid down over her ass and up under her 
crotch. 

"D-Don't!" she cried, but he was already doing it and he wouldn't stop. He 
was squeezing her crotch and splashing her hot pee all over her crotch, and 
though she didn't understand it at all, those wonderful hot waves of pure 
sweet sensation were coursing through her again. 

"Nicest, smoothest ass I ever did see, and your piss is probably sweet as 
orange juice," he said as he cupped and kneaded her gushing crotch. "I'm 
gonna fuck that till you walk bow-legged, and to hell with Dotty, and you're 
gonna love every minute of it," he said, as the feelings got to be just too 
much, and Ellie toppled forward onto the grass, still peeing, feeling 
everything inside her go bursting. 

"Don't! Please don't!" she gasped, writhing on the grass, trying vainly to 
clamp her trembling legs together, while Mr. Dawkins went on chuckling 
softly and working his hand between her thighs. She couldn't stop it, and by 
the time her bladder was empty she was all wet and exhausted and utterly 
humiliated, but feeling too languorously good to move. 

He got her up, though. He hauled her breathless to her feet, torn wet skirt 
and panties flapping around her, and he kissed her hard on the mouth. Her 
titties throbbed madly against his hard chest and everywhere his rough hands 
touched her, she pushed back against them. His tongue pushed in her mouth, 
shocking and choking her at first, but then making her feel all soft and 
gushy inside again as she accepted it, even sucked on it. Then he swatted 
her hard on the ass, this big rough wonderful man, and said, "Let's go face 
the music, honey pot." 

The tall weeds whipped around her bare legs as Mr. Dawkins led her by the 
hand toward the house. He walked swiftly and she had trouble keeping up with 
him, feeling so kittenishly weak. Her clothes were in rags and she was all 
grass stained but there was no way to stop and straighten herself out for 
she had to keep going with this man who was the only friend she had in the 
world, and more. 

Mrs. Dawkins was glaring at them with unbelievable hatred in her eyes as 
they approached the back door. And young Alan was still grinning his foolish 
grin from over her shoulder. She started to open her mouth but Mr. Dawkins 
held up his free hand and said, "I had a helluva time catching her, but 
everything's okay now. She's going upstairs to take a bath while we talk it 
over. Ellie, use the bathroom in the first bedroom to the right at the top 
of the stairs. Just help yourself and take a good tub bath. You're one of 
the family now." 

"We'll goddamn well see about that," said Mrs. Dawkins, and Ellie slunk past 
her and her son and scampered up the stairs, bottom scarcely protected at 
all by her torn skirt and panties. 

The bath was absolutely wonderful! She couldn't refrain from going along 
with what Mr. Dawkins had said and helping herself, and now she basked in 
deep hot water all covered with scented bubbles. It eased away the hundred 
little aches and scratches all over her body and even let her think that 
somehow Mr. Dawkins would make everything all right with her in his 
household. She dared to visualize herself being warmly accepted by Mrs. 
Dawkins and going to school with young Alan when summer was over. She even 
let herself think that there might come a day when Mr. Dawkins would take 
her in his arms and hug her again and make her feel so unbelievably 
wonderful. And Ellie lay back and thought about Mr. Dawkins' strange little 
penis, and how it had peed for her and how much bigger and harder it had 
felt when it was inside his pants. 

She hadn't been in the bathtub for very long at all when he startled her by 
walking right into the bathroom with her. He was grinning broadly down at 
her as she crossed her hands over her titties and tried her best to conceal 
her nudity under the thick bubbles. To add to her consternation he started 
taking off his clothes, saying as he did, "You're as pretty as a picture in 
there, Ellie. Everything's fine with Dotty and you're going to stay. I'll 
tell you all about it when I take my shower." He was naked by then, and 
Ellie was gazing wide-eyed up at him, hairy and huge and powerful looking, 
with his big sack of testicles looking even more weird than his dangling 
penis. He stooped and picked up her clothes, wadded them up and stuffed them 
in the waste basket, and said, "Might as well get rid of these. We'll get 
you some new, if you're a good girl." 

She cowered under the bubbles while he sang and splashed in the shower 
stall. Was nudity an everyday thing in the Dawkins' household? Should she 
get up and cover herself with a towel and try to find something to put on? 
She lay back in confusion and before she could do anything he was out of the 
shower stall and grinning down at her again, and she tried to smile back at 
him. 

His penis seemed bigger somehow, from what she could see of it before he 
wrapped a towel around his middle and stood before the basin to shave. She'd 
never seen a man shave before and that was almost as interesting as what 
she'd seen of his penis. He shaved and said, "Yeah, everything's gonna be 
fine around here. If Dotty or Alan bothers you, you just let me know. I'm 
taking you under my personal wing and seeing that you have the best of 
everything, as long as you're a good girl. You're really gonna like it 
here," he said, and washed the last of the lather from his face, splashed 
after shave on it, and turned to kneel by the side of the bathtub. 

"Are you all clean and sweet?" he said, and his hand plunged down through 
the bubbles to close over one of her breasts, and she stiffened all over. 
Including her nipples. "Yeah, you're really a nice girl, and we're going to 
be really good friends," he said in a warm and friendly voice, while his 
fingers gently pulled at her stiff nipple, making her cheeks blush and her 
nipple further stiffen. 

"You sure got nice tits," he said, up to his wrist in bubbles while he 
liberally felt of both of them, much to Ellie's paralyzed embarrassment. 
"You don't mind me playin' with them, do you? Of course you don't," he said, 
before she could even catch her breath to answer. "I'm a tit man," he 
incomprehensibly explained. "But then I'm a leg man and an ass man and most 
of all a pussy man, too," he said, laughing in his rough, friendly way, and 
adding to her squirming embarrassment by running his hand down over her 
tummy and hips and legs. 

He tickled her knees and made her splash water and bubbles. "Don't!" she 
weakly tittered at him, but he just laughed and went right on. 

"Why not? It feels good. Kitchy-koo! And we're supposed to be friends, 
aren't we? Now, open up your legs, honey. I'm going to tickle your pussy. 
Come on. Open up. You gotta do what I say if you're gonna stay here. And it 
feels good. You know it does. Open up, honey. Relax. That's a good girl." 

Ellie relaxed as much as she could and lay back panting, either from the 
tickling or she didn't know what. Her fists were clenched at her sides and 
her legs were open, knees pinkly protruding from out of the bubbles, while 
the grinning Mr. Dawkins eased his big, thick finger right down through the 
tensed wet slit between her legs. Back and forth it went, tickling madly but 
somehow not making her want to move. She was terrifically sensitive there, 
more so than she'd ever been in her life before, and that sensitivity was 
growing, spreading with the deliberate wormings of his finger. 

"Feel nice?" he said. "Hah? Sure it does. And I like doing it for you too, 
honey. It feels just lots better when somebody else does it for you. You be 
a good girl and you'll never have to do it to yourself again. You been doing 
it a lot? I bet you have, big healthy girl like you. How often, hah? Every 
day? Couple times a day? And then some more when you're all snug in your bed 
at night. Oh, that does feel good! How often have you been playing with this 
sweet little cunt? How many times a day do you frig yourself? Hmmm?" 

"Never. I never do. Mother said.. . . OH!" she said, as his finger touched 
and worked on that very, very sensitive spot down there. 

"Never?" he said, working it with two fingers now, making it quite 
impossible for Ellie to hold still in the tub. "If you never did it's about 
time you started. I'll teach you how. I'll teach you how to have all sorts 
of fun," he said, and slipped his finger down and into her hole a little 
ways, making her jump so that her titties came partially up out of the suds. 
He pinched a nipple most accurately and drove her back under, and then he 
laughed and laughed as he tickled between her legs and pulled and played 
with her titties till she was gasping and squealing and splashing water 
right out of the tub. "You better come out of there before you drown me," he 
said. 

Completely flustered and breathless, she said, "No. You shouldn't be looking 
at me." 

"Aw, I've seen all you got before," he said, and reached down and pulled the 
plug. 

It was useless now to stay there, but still too embarrassing to get out 
while she was being so closely watched. She stayed where she was, hands over 
her titties, trying to flatten herself in the tub, and when there was only 
suds concealing her she tried to quickly get up and get past him to the 
towels. 

He caught her, dripping and draining bubbles, and he ran his hands up her 
slippery legs and hips and buttocks as she stood in the tub. She was naked 
as the day she was born, but with much more to hide, and he knelt there 
before her and put his hands on her and said, "God DAMN, you're a pretty 
thing. I might even adopt you." 

Her whole body was tingling and seething with the residues of his tickling, 
and now she had to stand there while he took a towel from the rack and 
rubbed her dry. As he did it she couldn't help but see that the towel 
knotted around his waist was sticking up in front as if a stout, short pole 
was under it. It became far more apparent when he stood up to dry the top 
half of her body, talking to her and telling her how pretty she was. Even 
though she knew better, it was nice to hear him say it. In a way it made her 
feel almost as good inside as his warmly rubbing hands were making her feel 
outside. It brushed against her hip and felt very stout indeed when he 
helped her step out of the tub, still trying to cover her nudity, still 
failing. 

"Sit down here on the side of the tub, honey," he said, and pulled her down 
beside him. He was breathing just about as heavily as she was, and his towel 
was still being pushed up. "Yeah, you got a really fine set of tits," he 
said, handling them liberally now and easily pushing aside her weakly 
protesting hands. "Really a pair of rising young beauties, with just about 
the prettiest, pinkest nipples I ever saw," he said, and the dizzy but 
weirdly good feelings in her soared as his big rough hands hefted and 
squeezed and did delightful things with her titties. 

"Yessir, a fine, healthy body," he said, stroking her tummy and squeezing 
her hip, caressing her pink, flushed thighs while she tried to hold them 
together and keep from squirming. 

"Open up. Lemme see your pussy," he said, trying to push his hand right in 
there. 

"D-Don't," she said. "What if your . . . your wife comes? I don't think 
she'd like this." 

"She won't bother us. I guarantee that. Open up," he said, and he would have 
pried her legs apart if she hadn't given in to his wants. 

She was practically panting. She was terrifically embarrassed and couldn't 
even look down at her naked, lightly furred crotch, and what his hand was 
doing there. All she could do was sit there and get even more breathless and 
embarrassed and feel his warmth close beside her and see that big thing 
under his towel. 

"Feel nice? Hmm?" he said, with his fingers moving through her little slit 
and over that very sensitive spot. 

"I don't know. I . . . I just don't know," she said, though even his other 
hand, squeezing her bottom, felt weirdly good. 

"You knew in the tub. It felt good there," he pointed out. 

"But you weren't. . .looking at me then," she murmured. 

"Well, you're looking at me too," he said. "You keep looking right at my 
pecker. Would you feel better if you saw what you were in for?" he said. 

He pulled aside the towel and she saw it and gasped. His thing had taken on 
the strangest change she'd seen in anything in her life. The fat, limp worm 
had changed to a big, upright pole, with a ruddy red knob on the end and a 
thick shaft that was all gnarled and marked with blue veins. It was 
straining up at her from out of its hairy base, so hard that it was pulling 
the sack of his testicles up with it, and Ellie stared at it with mixed awe 
and dread, of what she did not know. 

"You look like you're afraid of it. There's no need for a girl to ever be 
afraid of a man's cock," he said, still running his hands over her legs and 
between them, and squeezing and kneading her fanny. "A man's cock is a 
beautiful thing. Every girl needs one. And you got yourself one, right 
here," he said. He took her resisting hand in his, and curled it around his 
thing. 

"It's so hot!" she exclaimed. 

"And hard!" He moved her hand up and down on it. 

"But the skin's soft. Like velvet!" Ellie said, most fear past her, but 
interest rising. 

He put her other hand on it, too, and she examined it in both of them while 
he leaned back grinning and fondling her fanny. She hardly felt that and she 
hardly missed his hand between her legs, so great was her interest in what 
he called his cock. 

She prodded the ruddy knob of it with a forefinger, looked up at him in 
wonder, and said, "This part is soft! But the rest is so.. . hardr 

He sighed deeply and squirmed on the rim of the tub and said, "Yeah. Mm-hm. 
You got nice little hands, too. Take it in both of them, honey. Work it up 
and down a little. Oh, yeah. Honey, that's real nice. It feels just as good 
as when I play with your cunt." 

Ellie didn't like that word at all, but she hardly heard it now, so great 
was her interest in his cock. She noticed how it was affecting him, much as 
she'd been affected by his hands, and she took a glowing pleasure in being 
able to do this for him, and to him. 

She did it a little faster and he said, "Easy, baby. I'm not circumcised and 
if you get too rough with it . . . Whew! Yeah. Yeah, that feels real nice. 
Slow and easy. We got all the time in the world. From now on. Yeah-h-h.. . . 
" 

"Circumcised?" she said, still stroking that fascinating part of him, 
feeling warmer and more friendly to him by the moment now that she was 
having a turn to make him feel as dizzy and weird as she had. 

"I got no foreskin. Like, say, Alan has. A foreskin, that makes it easier to 
jerk a guy off, but a cock without a foreskin-like mine-that's the best kind 
for fucking," he said, and suddenly threw his arms around her and kissed her 
on the mouth. 

He was pushing his tongue in her mouth and squeezing her bursting titties, 
and Ellie felt like she might faint with the sudden excitement of it all. He 
kept squirming around and pushing his cock through her hand, and in spite of 
all her excitement she kept stroking it up and down. Now his hand plunged 
down between her legs and she moaned with the achingly good feeling of being 
played with there, and forgot all about playing with his cock any more. 

He reminded her by working her hand up and down, then reaching back for her 
pussy. He broke the kiss and panted hotly against her mouth, saying, "Come 
on, baby. Can't quit now. Jerk it off and get all that good hot cream out of 
it. And cum, baby. Cum for pappa," he said, fingers on exactly the right 
spot and working it over relentlessly, wonderfully, while she jerked off his 
thick hot cock with complete disregard to whether it had a foreskin or not. 

"Oh! Oh, Mr. Dawkins! Oh, oh, oh-h!" she cried, jumping all around on the 
porcelain rim, almost falling into the tub, as the sensations she'd felt in 
the field returned tenfold, and continued to build. 

"Carl. Call me Carl," he panted. "And cum, baby. Cum, cum, cum with me-right 
now?' 

"Car-r-r-r-rl!" she growled, like an animal, and her hips were suddenly all 
out of control, just as they wanted to be, and her fanny was jerking and 
squirming wetly on the porcelain rim while the good, good feelings peaked 
and soared, peaked and soared, and he moaned with her and gushers of hot, 
thick cream came flowing out of his cock. 

It came right out of his cock! Just like the wetness she then realized was 
coming out of her pussy. And it came and came, hers did, and she moaned and 
squirmed and clung to him and said his name, even after the cream from his 
cock stopped flowing and was all over his cock and her hands. 

"Uh-OH!" she cried, as his finger suddenly stabbing in her hole brought 
forth a dazzling explosion of good feelings, and she still felt them when he 
was chuckling and sighing and rubbing his cupped hand all over her saturated 
crotch. 

"Oh, Mr. Dawkins!" she panted, all atingle, absolutely everywhere in her 
body. "Oh, Carl! That was . . . ! What happened?? ? It was even . . . more 
than out in the field!" 

"That's 'cause you're just gettin' warmed up to it, honey. And you still got 
a long way to go. And I'm gonna be there to show you the way to go, all the 
way. God, you're a pretty little thing!" 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Ellie knew she was neither little nor pretty, but she actually felt she was 
both those things as Carl Dawkins hugged her and squeezed her on the rim of 
the tub and spread her slick wetness all around between her legs. She had no 
idea how she'd let him touch her like that, and no idea why she or someone 
else hadn't done it before. 

And she was still in a daze from it all. 

He helped her get up and sat her down on the toilet seat, all weak and 
boneless as she'd seen her mother when she'd been drinking a little too 
much. She looked at him for several seconds at the sink before she realized 
he was washing his cock, and that it was getting small now. And that she had 
his cream all over her hands. She felt all dirty then, with the wetness 
between her legs and the goo on her hands, but she still felt good, 
wonderfully so, and she wondered if she really should feel that good. 

By the time he dried his cock it was all soft and limp again, and her 
interest was aroused again in a different way. There was little of the mad 
excitement she'd felt, only deep fascination, and she stared at it as he 
stood before her and offered her a towel. 

"Here. Dry yourself off some and then let's go in and lay down and, uh, 
rest," he said. 

She wiped her hands, but still she could feel his cream on them. She primly 
used the towel on her pussy, found it swollen and still very sensitive, but 
now she wasn't so embarrassed to have him looking at her. After all, she was 
looking at him, and now he looked as harmless as he could be. 

"How do you . . . make it go up and down like that?" she said. "Before it 
was big and now it's little. How do you do it?" 

He chuckled and rumpled her damp blonde hair and said, "It's you who does 
it, not me. When you're nice t. . . when you're a good girl, it gets nice 
and big for you to play with. And, uh, kiss," he said, inching closer, sa 
that she could smell the aroma of his cream, even penetrating through the 
after-shave he'd used. 

She wrinkled her nose and said, "Kiss it? People kiss those things?" 

"Yeah. It's great. Women kiss pricks, suck on them too, and men kiss 
pussies. At least some of them do. I might even kiss yours, it's so 
goddamned sweet and young. But yeah, lots and lots of sexy gals like you 
kiss guys' cocks. They love it. It makes 'em even sexier. And, you know, a 
man's cock gives a gal so much pleasure, it's almost her duty to give it a 
nice warm kiss. Right?" he said, and came closer still, cock in his hand now 
and lifted so its shriveled pink knob, marked with his drying cream, was 
right on the level of Ellie's mouth. 

"Kiss it," he said, and she did. 

Her face darted forward and the girl touched her lips to it. It was soft, 
warm, yielding, and it had that weird sort of scent to it that, like garlic, 
one might get used to. She looked up at him expecting his approval, and when 
she saw his smile so warm and loving, she kissed it again, even touched her 
tongue tip to it and tasted it before she shrank back against the commode, 
bashful and shy again, with hands creeping up to cover her naked titties. 

"Yeah, you're gonna be fine," he said. "Just fine." 

He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, and his big strong body, naked 
though it was, felt good against hers. She kissed him back, wanting more 
than needing to please him. He said, "Let's go lay down a while, honey-pot," 
and she giggled and said, "I guess I do feel a little tired." 

"Young girl like you tired?" he said as he led her from the bathroom to the 
bedroom. "Hell, you could go all day and all night and all fucking week, 
young girl like you. But me, I'm getting old and I got to lay down and rest 
in between times. You know? Then I'll be ready to go again." 

"Yes, you should rest," she said, but he didn't look as though he needed a 
rest. His eyes were bright and he was smiling as he threw back the covers on 
the big double bed, and his hands were still on her naked body as much as 
they could be. 

"Yeah, I'll just lay down and take a little rest," he said, and sat down on 
the edge of the bed. "While you fuss around and do girlie things and I watch 
you," he said, and playfully bit her hip, which brought back a surge of 
memory about how good she'd just been feeling. "You sit at Do.. . at the 
dresser and brush out your pretty blonde hair and do things, and I'll just 
lay back and look at you. And you'll see, my cock'll get all big and hard 
again," said he, and snorted his hot breath right between her legs and made 
her squeal, then slapped her loudly on the bottom and propelled her toward 
his wife's mirrored dresser. 

Ellie's hair was a mess. She saw that the moment she sat down on the soiled, 
cloth-covered bench. She also saw that her eyes were shining as brightly as 
Carl's had been, and that her titties indeed were as swollen as they felt. 
Their nipples were bigger and pointier and far pinker than usual. The 
underswells of her breasts looked very full and taut. The upper slopes were 
blushing pink. And all of them stood proudly up in a way that made her think 
she'd never have to wear a brassiere. 

She sat up proudly as she brushed her hair and looked at herself, her pride 
at least partially coming from this wonderful man who'd showed her the way 
to so much pleasure, and who was looking at her with such concentrated 
admiration. She smiled coyly at him through the mirror. He smiled back 
still, playing with his cock, which was still soft, but perhaps showing 
signs of its fascinating ability to grow, and grow and grow and grow!, and 
then to provide them both with such delirious minutes of such crazy good 
fun. 

It was shocking and shameful. But Ellie liked it. She'd never have imagined 
herself doing such things, sitting there like this. But she'd engaged in 
just about every kind of sex possible-including kissing his penis-and she 
was still alive and well. In fact, very well. 

She could still taste the flavor of his prick. Why had she stuck out her 
tongue and tasted it like that? She could still taste his tongue and feel 
his hands on her body and recall how crazy good she'd felt, but try as she 
might, she couldn't summon up those entirely crazy feelings when they'd been 
sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and pushing together in the sunny field. 

But it was still very warm and sunny outside and she felt wonderful, just 
wonderful, naked or not. In a way being naked helped her good feelings, 
because Carl sure did enjoy looking at her that way. Gee, she thought, 
that's probably why women wear clothes all the time, so men wouldn't always 
be looking at them like that and not getting anything else done. But it did 
feel good to be looked at that way, and she didn't know of anything Carl was 
supposed to be doing. She sat up straighter, titties up more proudly, and 
beamed at him in the mirror. She impulsively blew him a kiss, and he broadly 
winked and licked his chops and pulled at his stiffening cock. She felt 
beautiful and mature in his eyes and felt she'd fallen in love with him. 

"Let's see some more of that ass," he said. "Wiggle it around." 

She blushed from her face cheeks to her ass cheeks, and she squirmed her 
bottom on the bench, hoping the dirt on it wouldn't come off on her. 

"Get up and let's see it," he said. "Stand up and shake it around." 

How could she possibly do such a thing? How could he possibly ask it of her, 
unless he thought she was sort of pretty back there-or unless he felt a kind 
of love for her too. 

Ellie stood up and let him look at her fanny, and the grin on his face and 
the licking of his lips made her blush but feel good. Remembering what he'd 
said, she waggled her hips, and she felt better still when he said, "That 
ass of yours oughta be cast in marble and put in the Smithson Institute. Put 
your hands on it. Grab hold of it and show me how soft and nice and smooth 
it is. That's right. Oh, that's great," he said, as Ellie reached back and 
touched the smoothnesses he was leering at and moved her flesh around for 
him. 

Her titties felt even harder, their nipples even stiffer as she stood there 
feeling her fanny with both hands while he looked and played with his cock. 
"Bend over and spread those cheeks and show me more," he said, and she 
somehow did, feeling even more blood rush to her hot face cheeks as she 
doubled over and tremulously drew her buttocks apart, letting him look at 
her cunny, and yes, even at her pooper. 

'That's gotta be even tighter than her fucking pussy," Carl muttered, cock 
all stiff and hard now as he rolled his eyes around the room, looking 
anywhere but at that gorgeously presented butt-and developed a huge menacing 
scowl as he looked out the window. 

He was up off the bed at once, shouting, "You little bastard, get down from 
there!" 

Ellie squealed in alarm and tried to cover herself and crouch down, seeing 
Alan in the tree too now, and terribly ashamed of having been seen by him. 
Carl Dawkins was ranting out the window, throwing ashtrays and alarm clocks 
and magazines out of it, while outside Alan was shouting, "Mom! Mom, they're 
naked up there!" 

"You'll be naked too! I'll snatch the hair off your head if you don't get in 
that truck and get your ass to work, boy! AND NOT A WORD ABOUT THIS TO 
ANYBODY OR YOU DON'T GET YOUR TURN WITH HER!" he bawled, loud enough to be 
heard back at the placement agency. 

He slammed closed the curtains and turned with a shrug to Ellie. His cock 
had gotten soft to some extent. She timidly raised up from behind the bench, 
hands over her private parts again in her fresh embarrassment. He said, 
"It's all right. He's gone." He flopped himself down on the bed, the master 
of his household, and he said, "On with the show. But bring it on closer." 

She came forward toward the bed, looking fearfully from the closed bedroom 
door the curtained bedroom window. He patted a place beside him on the bed 
and she got up on it on her knees, not knowing if he wanted to look at her 
front or her back now, but he solved that problem in a hurry. He reached 
between her legs and touched her pussy, made her gasp, and he said, "Now 
lemme see you play with those tits. Good Christ, they're nice ones." 

She knew they were bigger than normal for a girl her age, but she didn't 
know how nice they were till she started really playing with them. And till 
he started really looking at them. She played with them and played with 
them, molding them to any sort of shape she thought might be appealing to 
him, and she appreciated their beauty more and more as she did so. And as 
his fingers continued to move between her legs. 

She knew by then what doing that did to him, and she certainly knew what it 
did to her. And so spread her knees wider on the bed, giving him full access 
to her cunt, and she went on playing with her tits and simply glowing with 
pleasure from his hand and his eyes on her. 

Ellie was getting all wet down there, but he didn't seem to mind. Now and 
then he'd reach up and give one of her amazingly responsive nipples a 
playful tweak to add to her pleasure, but then again his hand went down 
below and his fingers returned to tickling and tingling and wetting her 
cunt. 

It was beautiful. She was beautiful. All that could have made it any better 
was to feel herself being hugged to his strong body, to feel his big naked 
cock pressed warmly and lovingly against her tummy. She loved him. She was 
sure of it then. Nasty wife and retarded son and all, she was in love with 
this man and she'd do anything he ever said. 

"Lean forward and gimme a taste of that," he told her, and that was the 
easiest thing in the world to do. 

He came forward too, and when he touched his tongue tip to her cunt-right at 
that supersensitive place-she thought she'd turned into a skyrocket for a 
moment. He tickled all around it with his tongue tip, holding her cuntlips 
open, while she knelt over him and gasped and panted so that she couldn't 
declare her love for him. Just as well, she thought, when he leaned back 
licking his lips, for she loved him enough to never interfere with his 
marriage, and to always secretly please him in every way. 

"Yeah, it tastes like cunt," he said. "But good. You'll have more of that. 
Women go nuts over it. Whenever you say-if you're a good girl with me-I'll 
jam that little bastard Alan's head down between your legs and make him eat 
you till he drowns. Mmmmmm. That sure helped get you wet, honey-pot. And you 
know what that's for. It's for fucking," he announced, and he pushed that 
wonderful thick finger up her hole farther than he ever had before, until it 
met with some yielding, itching obstruction up there that Ellie knew was 
present but really hadn't ever thought would leave her. 

"Jesus Christ, a cherry," he said. "I thought I felt it before, but it sure 
is there now. We'll have to take care of that," he said, touching and 
touching it, making her wince with the slight pain of it, still mingled with 
pleasure. "Won't we?" 

"If you . . . want to," she murmured, still knelt before him, trembling even 
to her titties with strange fear, but yearning with every part of her for 
him, and every part of him. She glanced again at his cock, stiff and hard 
now to its fullest extent, and she knew he was going to use it on her. She 
knew it would hurt too, because sometimes in her mother's drunken ravings 
she'd talk about that sort of pain. But Ellie knew she could stand it and 
not turn into an alcoholic like her mother because of it. 

"Lay down beside me, baby. God, that's a nice cunt. Just lay right down and 
relax, and we'll get on down to business." 

She lay there rigid at first, waves of trembling sweeping over her. But he 
calmed her with his wonderful hands, excited her at the same time, and eased 
away the fear of terrible pain she had-at least for the moment. 

His stiffened cock lay across her thigh and his hands were roaming all over 
her body along with his loving gaze, returning again and again to her pussy, 
to her cunt that would soon be taking him in and hurting for it. She knew 
this, if she knew nothing else. 

"Nice and wet," he purred, like a lion. "You know what that's for? To help 
me get inside you. But we got to get you wetter though. And me too," he 
said, and heaved himself over on top of her, overwhelming her with his bulk, 
and settled down between her legs. 

The underside of his thick cock pushed hotly against her wet slit. It didn't 
feel as hot as before, but only because her cunt felt as feverishly hot with 
fear as his cock did with his love for her. "Get it nice and wet. Get both 
of us wet," he said, sliding it forward and back with slow movements of his 
powerful hips, spreading Ellie's lubricating cunt-juice through her slit and 
up and down his cock. 

"You're really gonna like this," he said. 

She knew it wasn't true, that he was just trying to be easy with her with 
his words. But heavens, it did feel good when she felt the ridge around his 
cock knob slip over her supersensitive spot. 

"You're a beautiful girl and you deserve a good fucking," he said, easing 
his thing through her slit, mashing his hairy chest against her titties in 
an absolutely wonderful way that helped to calm her, that made her almost 
want to feel him closer to her still. 

"You first time out and you're never gonna forget it," he promised her, and 
she knew she never would, for the fear of pain came rushing back at her and 
she couldn't help but tense under under the warm weight of this man she'd 
just met that day and who'd changed her life so much. "Ngh!" 

He grunted loudly in her ear, at the same time feeding his cock knob against 
her hole, and before she knew it he was in her, he was fucking her! 

There was slight pain, but the delicious feeling of that first sensation she 
knew she would never forget. He was all the way inside her, hairy pube 
nested hotly against her scantily furred mound, cock filling her to 
bursting-and best of all moving, moving, moving! 

"Oh-h-h-h! Car-r-r-rl! Wa-a-a-ait! Mor-r-r-r-re!" she moaned, and he 
chuckled lovingly and gave her more, moving it in and out, driving her 
absolutely insane with her love for him. 

It was the feelings that drove her on. Good heavens, there was nothing like 
this in the universe! Diddling around and frigging and jerking him off and 
showing her beautiful body off to him were all as nothing compared to this! 
He was inside her! Inside her body with his, inside her cunt with his cock, 
and it was absolutely wonderful thrilling in every way! 

She wanted to laugh and throw her arms around him and totally confess her 
love for him. But all she could do was throw her arms around him and tilt 
her cunt up to make it feel even better and hope she wasn't making a fool of 
herself with liking it too much. But she didn't care! It was supposed to be 
good and it was good! No pain at all now, just glorious all-encompassing 
good feelings, being loved, being penetrated by her lover, being fucked! 

"You like it? Hah? You want more?" he said, giving her more, more, MORE! 

"I just.. . love it!" she said, and he gave her more indeed, laughing as he 
slid it in and out of her, then sobering and kissing her wetly on the mouth, 
on her throat, biting her shoulder, and then hauling back and fucking her 
good and hard, just as she wanted him to, bringing starbursts and skyrockets 
and making all the great sensations she'd been introduced to that day seem 
childish and dumb. 

No woman had ever been fucked that way before! And no woman had ever fucked 
back so wonderfully! And now, at last, Ellie was a real woman. 

"Don't hurt now?" he said, pushing, ever pushing, just as she wanted him to. 

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" It was all she could say, proclaiming it loudly, 
feet planted firmly and pushing back at him, getting the rhythm of him now. 

"God, that's a tight cunt!" he said, and threw a leg over hers, fucking her 
harder still. "Keep you around and you're gonna drain me dry." 

"Yes! Yes, I want all your cream!" she exulted, already feeling it flowing 
in her, all hot and good and enriching to their burgeoning love for one 
another. 

"Fuck you real good and proper," he growled, and he rolled her over somehow 
and pushed it in and pulled it out from a different angle somehow and she 
forgot all about how much they loved one another as she started cumming in 
earnest, shamefully so, and he kept right on fucking her. 

Ellie lost all track of everything then, fine young body completely taken 
over with cumming. She was rolled all around on the bed and on the ceiling 
and walls and everywhere, with Carl's big cock in her driving her on to 
orgasm after orgasm. He attacked her from every conceivable angle She was on 
her knees and hands and on her back again and on top of him, cumming 
constantly, and his lovely filling big dick was inside her all the time, all 
the time! 

He could go forever! The world could stop but his cock would keep moving, in 
her, in her, in her!! ! She forgot his name at times and at times she didn't 
care, as long as she kept cumming. And cum she did, until all the sensations 
of that heavenly experience had rolled into one and she was existing in a 
total, mindless ecstasy. Later she could remember the rasping fire burning 
through her lungs, the sandpaper quality the sheets took on against her 
knees when she was straddling him and fucking him, and the smell of them 
both in fucking heat. But at the time she could think of nothing at all. He 
just fucked her, and fucked her, and fucked her, and she wasn't even aware 
of it when he'd gasped and grunted and squirted his cream into her hot, hot 
cunt, for she was cumming too hard herself then. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Ellie first thought it was the light of dawn that woke her up, but it was 
far too hot to be dawn. She could groggily remember everything they'd done 
together in bed that afternoon, but before that everything was a blank. She 
didn't care. All she cared about was the sharp nudging in her ribs. 

"Get me a beer," said Carl Dawkin's voice from beside her, and Ellie 
remembered more about this day of days. "Get you one too. If you're old 
enough to fuck you're old enough to drink beer. And if Dotty gives you any 
static tell her to shove it, as per Carl Ogilvey Dawkins, Esquire, CO. 
fucking D. himself. Move it. Make sure they're cold." 

Ellie got out of bed, found she was weak all over and all over drenched in 
sweat. Out from under the covers she felt cold, and she looked for something 
to put on, as much from getting chilled as from fearing to see Mrs. Dawkins 
when she went to get Carl's and her beer. But she'd have to run into her. 
Poor Mrs. Dawkins, Carl's first wife, was surely all over the house in her 
daily housework. Soon Ellie would be helping her with that, and enjoying her 
part in taking good care of Carl until such time . . . something happened to 
Dotty. She would move away for some reason. Or die a lingering death. And 
then Carl would turn to her for comfort, and for help in raising his child, 
and she'd . . . Yech! Alan Dawkins for a son? but she'd be a good mother 
nevertheless and always be a loving wife to . . . 

"Beer! Beer! he called, and Ellie snatched a short white coat of Mrs. 
Dawkins from its hanger and put it on. Carl croaked and pleaded for beer 
like a dying man, and Ellie was out in the hall before she saw she'd put on 
one of Mr. Dawkins' dress shirts. But it covered her, and when she'd 
buttoned it up and rolled up the sleeves, she thought she could chance 
bumping into Mrs. Dawkins. 

She was right there in the kitchen, frying sausages, and Alan sat at the 
kitchen table, grinning like an idiot and blinking his eyes at her. " 'Scuse 
me," Ellie said, and started past Mrs. Dawkins to the refrigerator. 

"C . . . Mr. Dawkins asked me to bring him a bottle of beer. In fact two," 
she said, and got her hands on them, keeping as far away as she could from 
Alan, and the hand that kept scratching at his crotch. 

She started back with the icy bottles chattering against her thinly covered 
titties when Mrs. Dawkins lifted her head and glared at her. 

"Oh, my goodness," said Ellie, for her eye was bruised and discolored and 
her countenance was very grim. 

"Oh, my old man's shirt," she said, and yanked at the tail of it. 

Ellie, cringing against the sink top, said, "I ruined my clothes in the 
grass out there! I didn't have anything else to wear." 

"Wear some of this!" said Mrs. Dawkins, and yanked Ellie around and lifted 
her shirt tail and whaled into her with the hot greasy spatula. 

Ellie wailed and screamed, but she hung onto the bottles. Mrs. Dawkins 
cursed her and scalded her bare bottom to the bottom of the stairs, and Carl 
came out and bellowed, "Dotty, just knock it off or I'll black that other 
fucking eye. Honeypot," he cooed to the near hysterical Ellie, "you tell old 
Dotty to shove it and trot right up here with them cold beers. ALAN!" he 
shouted. "GET TO WORK!" 

Ellie was up the stairs in no time, with a burning hot fanny and cheeks to 
match, the latter getting worse as Mrs. Dawkins' insults came pouring forth. 

"Shove it, shove it, SHOVE IT!! ! " Carl roared, and then she was safe and 
sound in the bedroom with him again. 

He slammed the door behind her and said, "What'd she do? Did she swat you 
one with that pancake turner?" 

"It was hot! It was right out of the frying pan! Hot grease all over it! 
Look!" she said, and turned and presented her injured backside by lifting up 
the tail of her shirt. 

"God damn sadistic old broad," he said. "But it don't look like you got any 
third degree burns. Come over here. Let's have a look." 

He went over and sat on the dresser bench and she came with him, shirt tail 
lifted up and sore part of her body on display. It burned and felt awful, 
and he tended to it right away. 

"Jesus, you really got it, kid. I should of gone myself," he said, massaging 
Ellie's fanny as she winced and went up on her toes. "Turned your pretty 
butt red and got it all over with bacon grease," he went on, massaging her 
ever more deeply, and then making her gasp and go up on her toes as he slid 
his finger up her pooper. 

She couldn't even protest. It was just too awful. All she could do was stand 
there with her mouth open and her shirt tails up while he squirmed his 
finger all the way up her pooper and talked to her. 

"Dotty'll come around. She'll see things my way. A hundred and fifty bucks a 
month to spend and a mother's helper to boot. Feel good? Nasty old hurt all 
gone? Christ, that's a tight little asshole!" he said, and it seemed to make 
a popping noise when he took his finger out. 

He twisted off a beer cap and drank from the bottle, then offered it to 
Ellie. She drank numbly while he opened the other bottle, and while she was 
coughing and choking on it he stuck his thick slick finger up her ass again. 

He said, "Yeah, Feels good, don't it? Lots of gals don't get turned on to 
this, but then not many gals get shown the ropes by a guy like me. That's 
the target for tonight," he said, and burrowed and swirled with two fingers, 
making Ellie hang onto the dresser and pray she wouldn't pee in her pants. 

"Yeah, that's a nice asshole," he went on, and Ellie moaned in solid 
disappointment when he too his fingers ut. "And I bet you'd be surprised at 
just how much stretching it'll take." 

"No! No, don't! It'll break in me!" Ellie cried. 

He'd taken up her beer bottle and was pushing it against her asshole, 
twisting and turning it as if it was a corkscrew. He easily held her there, 
chuckling merrily, while she cried, "Oh! OH! NO! OWWW!! ! " 

It hurt, more than his cock in her cunt had hurt. But that was only because 
she was so very afraid of it and tense. And then, thanks to Mrs. Dawkins' 
grease, it was moving in and out of Ellie's asshole in a filling and 
thrilling way. "Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" she kept saying that even as she 
roundly rotated her greasy but gorgeous butt, and Carl kept sliding that 
perfectly tapered bottle neck in and out of her. the beer was foaming up 
inside of her and Carl was giggling at her and she didn't know if she was 
pooping or not, but she kept swinging her ass for the bottle and cumming in 
a strange and beautiful way. 

It was great, terrific, but it would have been better if it was him inside 
of her. It was his hand that held the bottle, but looking over her shoulder 
at his resurrected cock sent all sorts of crazy ideas through her head, she 
didn't think about any of them. She just climbed off that bottle and backed 
right up to him and said, "Fuck me again. Please? In my . . . back there?" 

"Here?" he said, and stuck in his finger again. 

It wasn't as big as the beer bottle but it made her say, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Put 
your cock right in me there! And cum in me! OH! OH! OH!" 

He eased his fingers in and out, saying, "Sure, I'll corn-hole you. And 
you'll like it. A lot. Just bend over and show me where you want me to put 
it, baby," he said, and Ellie silently screamed as he drew his fingers out 
of her. 

She bent at the waist and pulled her quivering buttocks apart with both 
hands. "There! Your cock! Right in my pooper!" she said, and then she almost 
crawled out of her skin from the sensation of him merely blowing his warm 
breath against her stretched asshole. 

He alternately blew on her asshole and chuckled while she rocked back and 
forth on her heels and toes. He reached toward the dresser and now she saw 
herself in the mirror with him; upraised ass still red and greasy in her 
hands, face with a look of pained rapture on it, Carl's floppy shirt still 
on her back. It was cold cream he'd taken from the dresser. He stood up 
behind he with his cock so big and stiff it was absolutely beautiful, and he 
began smearing cold cream on it. 

That big greasy pole would soon be up her ass! She could hardly wait for it! 
He stood right behind her and placed a broad palm on her ass, and with his 
other hand he took hold of his cock and pointed it straight at her blushing 
big buttocks. He rubbed its rubbery soft knob all around the hole where he'd 
had his wonderful fingers. Ellie tried to follow and catch the knob of it 
with her asshole. He pushed her shirt up higher on her swayed back as she 
gyrated her burning ass in search of his cock knob, which she could clearly 
see in the mirror, and then she could see it all even better when she ripped 
her shirt off over her head. 

"In we go," said he, and his huge cock was inside her and stretching her to 
the breaking point, giving her that initial pain that was always followed by 
fantastic ecstasies. He held her hips firm and fucked her slowly and solidly 
in the asshole, and her hands slipped from her knees to hold onto the bench 
as the ecstasy began in earnest. 

"Really tight!" he moaned, easing it in and out. 

"Yes! And you're so big!" she exulted. 

"You really like it up the ass, eh?" 

"Yes! Everything you do to me! Oh, yes!" she cried, moving her ass again, 
unable to hold it still if she'd wanted to. 

He stopped and took a drink of beer while she churned her hot ass about and 
sucked on his cock with it. No pain at all now, just all over ecstasy. Her 
face was slack with it when seen through her tumbled hair. Her dangling tits 
swayed with the motion of her body. Her gorgeous upturned buttocks were 
embracing the hairy base of his cock. He drank his beer and set the bottle 
down, took hold of her ass with both hands and gave her all the cock she 
wanted. 

"OH! OH, CARL! YES!" she cried, as she sawed it in and out. 

"Yeah. That's a nice asshole," he purred, deeply kneading her butts with his 
thumbs, much more deeply reaming her ass with his huge cock. "Bend over some 
more, kid." 

The blood rushed to her head as she put her elbows on her knees, ass now 
obscenely high in the air. "Oh-h-h!" she wailed, as he took his loving cock 
out of her. "OH!" she cried, as he shoved it in again, in her cunt now. 

He alternated back and forth between her asshole and her cunt. None of his 
insertions brought her pain now. Each one brought her higher toward the 
state of perfect ecstasy. Beer foam and cunt-juice were trickling down her 
inner thighs by the spoonful and still he went on fucking her in his 
wonderful way, two ways at once, more than any girl could ever hope for. 
With his hairy belly hung over her smooth rosy ass, he fucked her and fucked 
her till she couldn't tell which hole he was in without looking in the 
mirror, and acquainted her so intimately with cumming that she thought she'd 
never stop. 

Every cell in her body screamed for more when he pulled it out. "Now suck on 
it," he said, and moved around her sweating naked body. Ellie fell to her 
knees and began to suck his cock, because her legs were to weak to hold her 
up and because sucking that beautiful cock was the most important thing in 
the world to her just then. 

"Yeah. That's it. Suck it up good and hard with your pretty mouth, and then 
I'll fuck you some more with it." 

It was as hard as it could be already; but she sucked on it lavishly, 
lovingly. With her cheeks sunken in and the hairy base of it in her hand, 
she crooned to herself in her joys she moved her circling lips up and down 
the big, thick shaft, applying suction that made his cock knob swell and 
throb in her mouth. It had tasted awful at first, so rank and strong that 
Ellie had almost gagged, but now that her laving tongue had washed it clean 
it tasted exquisitely meaty and good. The textures were marvelous too, and 
she savored them fully as she panted through her nostrils and sucked his 
cock and kept on cumming. 

It was fantastic! All she had to do to cum now was to squeeze her thighs 
together. Her throbbing cunt and asshole were all alive with seething 
sensation as she sucked Carl's cock and squirmed her thighs together. Then a 
mad itching started between her legs and she had to dive down there with one 
hand and scratch it feverishly, finding wonderful relief, but still 
scratching at it. 

It was right at that supersensitive spot. Carl saw in the mirror what she 
was doing and said, "Is that your clitty that's starting to bother you? 
Here. I got just the thing for it. It drives Dotty nuts and it'll do the 
same thing for you." 

"No!" she cried, as his cock was slipped from her mouth. 

She followed after it, on her knees, as Carl went to the chest of drawers. 
He took out something that looked like an electrical pistol, with a white 
rubber suction cup at the muzzle of it. He plugged it in the wall and it 
started purring, and gooseflesh crawled all over Ellie when she realized how 
it had been used. 

"No! Just put it away," she said. "All i want is your cock, anyplace in me!" 

"Oh, you'll like this," he said, and he pulled her to her feet and touched 
the buzzing suction cup to her nipple. 

She was appalled, staring down at the ugly mechanical device feeding at her 
breast and filling her with nauseous vibrations. She could visualize it 
touching Dotty's body in this way-and worse-and she pushed it away and 
grabbed at Carl's cock and pleaded that that was all she needed. 

"Naw, you try it," he said, and stabbed the vibrations through her hip. 
"Don't knock anything till you tried it," he advised, and he shoved the 
thing between her cringing, clasping thighs and got it much too close to her 
pussy. 

She fought it all the way and he just laughed at her struggles and went on 
with it. Perhaps he thought she was writhing and squirming in enjoyment, and 
then perhaps she was, for when it finally did touch against her 
supersensitive spot its vibrations thrilled her sharply. 

She looked at his grinning face in wonder, then down at the rubber cup 
blurred and buzzing firmly against her blonde-haired pube. She stood up 
straighter, had to hold onto him as the feelings mounted, and then tilted 
her pelvis up for more of them as his wonderful device returned her to 
ecstasy. 

"I told you, you'd like it," he said. "I got it right on your clitty and 
you're goin' nuts." 

"My clitty! Oo-o-o-o, my clitty!" she said, all but jumping up and down as 
the vibrator sucked it and loved it and made her start cumming again. "Oh! 
Oh! OH!" she cried, delighted with the device now, and shoving her clitty 
against it while she clung with her nails to Carl's bare ass. 

He bent and get its warm buzzing cup more directly against her clitty, and 
she spread her feet wide and went up on her toes with the thrilling 
ecstasies soaring up through her. She was squealing and gasping and cumming 
constantly when he said, "You take it now and give it a try. That's the way 
Dotty likes it best." 

"No! Please! You do it! You do it so good, so wonderful!" she said, sickened 
at the thought of Dotty Dawkins using the thing on her old body, then warmed 
by the knowledge that Carl's wife was a secret masturbator. 

"You go ahead with it. I need me a drink of beer." 

He shoved the vibrator in her hands, gave her tits a squeeze, and walked 
naked back to the dresser. She stood there with it buzzing, trying to catch 
her breath. Carl drank deeply, gestured with the bottle, and said, "Be a 
good girl now, honey. Use it so I'll see how you like it best when I love 
you up. Sit down and go ahead. Right there, while I rest a minute." 

He sat down on the bench, beer bottle in one hand, other hand curling around 
his semi-upright cock. She badly wanted to please him and perhaps she wanted 
to feel just a little more of the vibrator's action on her clitty, just to 
see if she'd been most affected by it or by him. And so she sat down on the 
floor, feet spread wide apart and knees up, and gingerly touched the white 
rubber suction cup to her very pink, very wet slit. 

"Ooo!" She gasped and gave a start. In the short time since it had left her, 
she'd already forgotten how good it felt. 

She held it right there on her clitty, looking from Carl's grinning face to 
where all the wondrous action was, and resumed her lovely cumming. 

"Oh. Oh, my," she said, trying to be as calm and ladylike as she could. "It 
does feel nice!" 

"It should. It's a damn good vibrator. Probably cost forty bucks new. I got 
it at the swap meet for six, and it's the best six bucks I ever spent. Move 
it around. Get acquainted with it." 

He toasted her with his beer and drank. He was toasting her with his cock, 
too, stroking it slowly and helping get it stiff. She'd figured out the whys 
and wherefore of his getting a stiff cock. It had to be stiff before he 
could fuck her, and what made it stiff was her, the things she did and the 
things she let him do to her. Now she was letting him watch her, and if that 
meant getting his cock hard for fucking, there was no reason why she 
shouldn't give him something to look at. 

"Mm-m-m-m-m. Yummy!" she said, grinning back at him and moving the rubber 
cup do wn through her tingling slit. Just about everyplace she touched with 
the cup felt almost as good as her clitty had. She spread her legs wider and 
used her other hand to help expose still more of that part of her that this 
man loved so much, and mm-m-m-m, that felt even better. 

His cock was as hard as it could be now and her cunt couldn't have been more 
sensitive. She wanted that cock in her one more time more than anything else 
in the world, but for the moment she had that wonderful vibrator to play 
with and keep her from getting too anxious. 

"Even my . . . even my ass hole!" she said, and held it there and felt its 
vibrations through every part of her till it almost reached the point of 
pain. 

"All over!" she exclaimed, and buzzed it up and down and in and out her 
thighs, round and round her tummy, up and over her tits as she fed them to 
it with her hand. 

"What you need is a big steam-driven cock in you while you play around with 
that thing," he said. 

She secretly thrilled at such a wild thought, but she said, "What I need is 
your cock. Mm-m-m, yes!" 

"You'll get it when you're ready for it. But an old man like me, he needs 
his beer breaks," he said, stroking a cock that was so big and hard now that 
Ellie thought her heart would break with yearning for it. 

Her clitty was demanding its attention. And it was not to be denied. Ellie 
spread the top of her swollen cuntlips wide and looked down at herself there 
to see what he was seeing and liking. Her clitty looked hugely swollen and 
angrily red, but if that was the way he liked it, that was the way she liked 
it too. 

"Oh! I never felt anything so nice!" said she as she covered her clitty with 
the soft white rubber. "Except you, of course," she quickly added. And none 
too soon, for already the vibrator was jiggling her clitty so fantastically 
that she couldn't hold herself or it still. 

She was panting and her tits were swaying as she churned her ass on the 
carpet, frankly fucking the vibrator with her clitty. She was moving the 
vibrator too, but only the handle of it. This she rotated widely between her 
legs to make the rubber cup attack her clitty from every angle, just as Carl 
so effectively had done. It was fascinating to watch as well as to feel, so 
much so that for once she didn't look up when Carl spoke. 

"You like that electric dildo, eh?" 

"I love it! I can't get over it! I just can't . . . quite . . . cum with it 
now!" 

"You're sure givin' it a helluva try," he said, and she blushed when he 
chuckled, but she didn't look up from her blushing cunt, nor the superbly 
designed device she held in her sweating hands. 

"But I can't cum!" she said, trying ever harder, even more wonderfully. "I'm 
almost there but it just can't quite cum!" 

"I know," he said. "You need my cock for that," he said, and Ellie looked up 
from her feverish endeavors because his voice was quite close to her, and 
when she looked up there was his fully swollen cock before her eyes. 

It was in his hand, and his hand was still moving. It was pointed down, 
right toward her face. Each downstroke of his hand swelled the beautiful big 
knob of his cock with crimson, and each upstroke made its little wet mouth 
reach out to hers. 

"Yeah, this is what you need to cum," he said, and Ellie got the vibrator 
centered just right on her clitty and leaned forward and began to lick Carl 
Dawkins' lovely prick. 

Delicious. 

It seemed so sweet and clean now, with only the taste of his viscid sex 
juice to be savored and thrilled by. She wrapped her pursed lips about the 
end of it and slid them warmly up to meet the slow thrust of his cock. It 
filled her mouth with its warmth and her soul with its excitement as she 
sucked on it and fucked herself with the vibrator. In her hunger for it she 
took it clear down to the soft back of her throat, and though this almost 
caused her to gag, she did it again and again as her passions rose still 
higher. 

"Just suck on the knob of it now, baby," he told her. "I'll just help you 
along some. And don't forget to use your tongue." 

She sucked it and washed it with her tongue at the same time. It was 
wonderful to know how much he liked it! She was panting and moaning 
constantly through her nostrils and frigging herself with what felt like raw 
electric voltage now, and hanging on each of his words of instruction and 
praise for her. 

"Yeah, you're gonna be a good cocksucker. You could even be a natural born 
cocksucker. Vh-huh! You're really makin' me feel good, baby. And you're 
feelin' good too. Oh, but you wait. The best part's yet to come. Suck that 
cock, baby. Make my balls fill up and overflow with good, hot cum! Uh! Make 
it come out, honey. Oh-h-h-h, you're gonna love it. Hot cream, the best 
thing in the world for a growing gal. Oh! Yeah! Now, baby! Here it comes. 
Watch it come!" he said, and drew his pulsing cock out of her hotly panting 
mouth, in time for her to see the thick jet of white spurt out from the tiny 
mouth. 

Her hair stood on end and she started cumming. The vibrator dropped from her 
hands and she took his cock in both of them, got it back in her mouth, and 
still kept cumming while she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed! 

Beautiful!! ! 

His thick cum filled her mouth, her brain. It was hot and salty sweet, and 
she wanted to roll it around in her mouth for all the time she was cumming, 
but her belly demanded that it be put inside her. So she swallowed it and 
sucked for more, faster and faster, cumming and cumming with him, but only 
able to moan in her ecstasy while he could speak words. 

"Good hot jism! Good hot cum! Get it al-l-l-l! Uh! Jesus! What a ball-buster 
of a cum! Don't miss a drop of it! Ah-h-h-h. All gone now. Whew-w-w-w. All 
gone, baby. Stop your suckin'. The party's over." 

"More. Oh, Carl. Oh, I love you so," she confessed, mouth still hungering 
for the cock that had been taken from it, pawing and kissing feebly at his 
loins as she sat in a wet puddle of her cunt-juice on the floor. 

He laughed and said, "You just love sex, and I can't say as I blame you. But 
now I gotta get some rest before you wear me out, and you gotta get to your 
room." 

She never wanted to leave him again. She wanted to cling to him forever, but 
she was so very, very tired. He drew her to her feet and she had great 
difficulty standing against him. She knew she looked awful, but she couldn't 
even lift a hand to brush back her hair. He started walking her toward the 
door, and she almost collapsed. She was trying to apologize for her 
clumsiness as he walked her down the hall and down the stairs, and he was 
saying that everything was fine and that she'd been a great piece of ass. 

He took her into a small dim room and she flopped down on a narrow bed, too 
tired to successfully move. A cover was thrown over her by her lover, and 
then he sat and held her hand and said, "There's lots more good times like 
we had today as long as you're a good girl. You keep our fun a secret 
between us, you do what Dotty tells you without any sass, and you'll be one 
happy kid. Pretty things to wear, school when you want to go, a nice little 
car someday. Just be good, do what Dotty tells you, and don't talk to 
anybody about what you and me do together when we're alone. Okay?" 

She managed to nod. "Okay. Yes, Carl. I love you." She managed to pucker up 
for his swift kiss. She couldn't manage to hold onto his hand as it slipped 
from hers, and she was fast asleep before he left the room. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

When Ellie awoke it felt as if she hadn't slept for more than five minutes. 
She was so groggy she could hardly move, and when she did move she found she 
was sore all over her body. 

Her muscles ached and the bedsheets felt like sandpaper against the minor 
abrasions that seemed to cover her body. Between her legs it was the worst 
of all, as if she'd been badly sunburned or exposed to poison oak there. But 
she had to move, for her throat was parched dry. 

She hardly knew where she was, but there had to be water somewhere. She was 
in a small room with a paint-peeling chest of drawers, a rickety straight 
backed chair, and the iron cot on which she'd been sleeping. The single 
window was open, accounting for the early morning sunlight streaming in. The 
one door was locked, Ellie discovered, as she was discovering she was naked. 
The other door opened to a tinier room with a toilet and tub and sink in it, 
and Ellie rushed to the sink and gulped cold water from her cupped hands. 

She went back to the cot and lay down. She felt her aches more than ever 
now, knew she should get up and take a hot bath but she was just too tired 
to move. Her thirst slaked, she could at least try to remember how she got 
where she was. And when she did, she covered her face with her hands and 
rolled toward the wall and moaned, "Oh, no." 

What had come over her the day before? Or was it the week before? How could 
she have done those incredible things with that awful Mr. Dawkins? And how 
could she thought she'd enjoyed it all at the time?? ? 

She must have been drunk. The beer! But she'd only had a few sips. Oh, the 
things he'd done to her! In her fanny and everywhere! And oh how furious 
poor Mrs. Dawkins had been. And rightly so. The only thing to do was run 
away, go back to the agency, anywhere. A nunnery would be the best place, 
where she'd never even have to think of Mr. Dawkins and his big ugly purple 
cock again. 

But she had to have clothes for that. She winced and got out of bed, went to 
kneel shakily before the chest of drawers and discover there was nothing in 
the drawers but childrens' games and an assortment of broken toys. But she 
had the sheets on the bed, rough as they were, and she took one of these and 
wrapped it around her like a Roman toga and went to the window. 

It was a small window, its sill some four feet from the floor. But it was 
large enough to crawl through and escape from her shame if she could open 
it, and she pushed with all her strength at the handle. Her feet were braced 
widely on the floor and the sheet was in danger of slipping as she heaved 
hard at the stubbornly unyielding window. She braced herself again and took 
a deep breath to push harder, and a grinning face appeared at the window. 

She screamed and fell back toward the bed. It was only Alan, she knew, the 
harmless Dawkins retard, but the sudden fright was everywhere in her as she 
screamed and huddled against the wall and stared shocked at him while he 
made horrid faces at her. 

The door rattled and came open and there was Carl Dawkins moving swiftly 
into the room with her. She threw out her arms to him, starting toward him, 
but he was quickly there on the bed with her, arms about her sobbing body, 
comforting her. 

"What's the matter? Did my good girl have a nightmare? Aw-w-w-w. It's okay. 
You're okay. Poppa's here." 

"He was there at the window. Your son. And oh, the faces he made at me! I 
got scared. He . . . he startled me. Oh Carl I'm so sorry I screamed, but 
I'm so glad you're here. Just hold me. I'll be all right if you just hold 
me." 

"Sure, baby." He was dressed in his working clothes, jeans and an old 
flannel shirt, and his substantial bulk felt wonderful to lean against and 
his good workman's hands felt wonderful on Ellie's body. They felt even more 
wonderful and she felt closer still to him when he eased the bedsheet from 
her shoulders, saying, "I'm here and everything's fine. That little fucker 
won't bother you any more. You need a bath, bad, but you're sure a pretty 
little thing. I forgot just how pretty you are. Goes to show how short a 
man's memory gets when he's through bein' horny. Nice, nice titties. Awww. 
Who put that nasty black and blue mark on your pretty little ribs. Hah?" 

Her bedsheet was down to her waist and his hands were touching her with 
thrilling gentleness. She impulsively hugged his thick torso, and he 
chuckled his fatherly, loving chuckle and squeezed a big handful of her 
bottom. 

"You feel like playing, don't you," he said. "You know I got to get to work 
and you know darned well I'm going to take you into town and get you that 
pretty dress we were talking about last night, but you want to play first. 
Don't you, you hot little bundle of sex!" 

"Oh, Carl," she cooed. "We shouldn't." She squirmed against him and he 
hugged her closer, making her wince from her aches and at the same time 
thrilling her. 

"Why not? You got the time and I got the hard-on," he said, and he outlined 
the big exciting bulge in his pants with his hand. 

"Oooo," Ellie's pussy squirmed and cringed and felt sore but good. 

"Why don't you take it on out and see if it still fits? And why don't we get 
rid of your bridal gown?" he said, and she felt glorious, like a real bride 
with a dowry and everything when he threw back the rumpled bedsheet from her 
body. 

He'd told her to take it out and she went at her job. There was nothing more 
in the world she wanted to see than that part of him that loved her so much 
it changed its whole shape for her. He fondled her and patted her and 
squeezed her and it hardly made her wince at all, so intent was she upon 
getting his lovely cock out of his pants and making him love her still. 

"Oh, Car-r-r-l!" she moaned, and hugged the sturdy big thing with both hands 
as it showed its ruddy bright face to her. 

He cautioned her, "Easy, baby. That got quite a workout last night and 
yesterday. And an old man like me can't take it like you youngsters can." 

"You're not old at all!" she assured him, having to hold back from pulling 
it right up off him and hugging it to her breast, then bending down to suck 
on it as second best. 

He helped her to this with his hand on the back of her head. It continued to 
massage her scalp through her badly matted hair while she sucked on his hard 
cock with all she'd learned the day before and all the added inspiration of 
her fresh morning's love for him. It was a beautiful thing to do for him. 
Exciting for her, too, for she was a natural born cocksucker, and her mouth 
could never possibly get as sore as her pussy was just then. 

"Oh, yeah. Yeah-h-h-h. That's good," he said, leaning back and letting her 
do her thing, patting her hip and squeezing her fanny in encouragement. 

"You got a nice mouth. Not as tight as your cunt, but it's pretty damn nice. 
Man, that was a good screw yesterday. Got you good, didn't I? Up your cunt 
and up your butt, and you took to it like a baby duck takes to water. 
Tight," he said, and his hand wriggled down under her butt as she avidly 
sucked on his cock. "Really a nice tight little cunt," he said, with his 
finger burrowing ever closer to that part of her sexy little body. 

"How does it feel not bein' a virgin? Hah? You still as tight as you were 
before, or is your cunt all big and stretched out of shape. Let's see. Let's 
lemme just see." 

She lifted up the buttock his hand was under, curious herself if she'd been 
permanently stretched there and not feeling quite so sore that she couldn't 
even be touched. But he touched her quite firmly and she did wince a little, 
for now in contrast to yesterday her pussy was just as dry as it could be. 
She had to concentrate on her cocksucking and on refraining from wincing as 
he probed and pushed up between her legs, and this she did. And then she 
felt a little glow of warmth within there, a slow oozing of liquid warmth. 
She found that by wriggling her bottom just right the tight dry orifice 
could be more deeply penetrated by his finger, and the liquid warmth could 
be reached. Ellie's spine curled with shivers of delight as his lovely thick 
finger eased halfway in her, all the way out, then all the way in again to 
the last knuckle. 

"Poor kid," he said. "You're getting all hot again." 

She lifted her loving lips from his cock, brushed back her matted blonde 
hair, and said, "I couldn't help it. Your cock.. . . "She couldn't make her 
hand turn loose of it. 

"What about my cock? Don't you like it?" 

"Carl, I love it!" she said, and started to go down on it again. 

He let her, but for just a little while. He let her get another good 
heat-inspiring taste of it and he slid his finger in and out her tight wet 
hole, and then he drew her upright and said, "Do you want my cock in you, 
Ellie?" 

"Yes. In me. In my pussy!" she breathed, all giddy with love and excitement 
for him. 

He lay back on the cot, hands folded behind his head and stiff cock standing 
at attention, and he said, "Go to it, baby. It's all your'n." 

Ellie knew instinctively what to do. She was a born cock fucker as well as a 
born cocksucker, it seemed. 

She threw a leg over his hips and straddled them on her knees. His big cock 
stuck up at an angle, with its bulbous red knob touching Ellie's crusted 
blonde pubic hair. She took it in hand and redirected that angle till his 
cockhead was touching the portals of her pussy. He lay back in solid 
masculine comfort and she smiled her encouragement of this as she eased her 
cunt down on his cock. She waggled her hips and altered the angle of her 
pelvis as she made the tight fit, with the base of his cock firmly in hand. 

In her inexperience, it wasn't easy. It felt good, but there was little of 
the sudden ecstasy she felt when Carl was in charge of making those swift, 
sure insertions of cock in cunt that she loved so much. Still she worked at 
it, knowing she was pleasing him, and pleasing herself too when at last she 
was able to withdraw her hand from between them and settle her pubis on top 
of his. 

She was so proud of herself. Carl's beloved cock was all the way inside her 
and she'd done it all herself. It would be a little uncomfortable to move 
until she got used to this position, but she found no discomfort in leaning 
slowly forward until her tits were pressed against his shirted chest and she 
could reach her lips to his. 

He kissed her and swatted her on the rump and said, "Move it, kid. I got 
places to go, people to see, bills to pay and money to collect. Let's go!" 

Another sharp slap on the ass and more commanding words had Ellie at work. 
With her hands braced against his chest she found she could move her hips 
pretty well, providing the coital friction both of them needed to share the 
wonderful discovery of sex they'd made together. She knew he liked to look 
at her and she felt that her tits provided him with good viewing as she 
moved her torso to make her cunt work and her breasts dance before his eyes. 
She was smiling brightly too, for her mother always had told her that a 
girl's smile is the best part of her. But mostly she just kept her cunt 
moving on his cock. It felt nice enough, though not so incredibly good as 
when he was on top of her, making love to her. Still she kept at it, trying 
to smooth out the ragged rhythm she'd taken up and trying too to enjoy the 
twinges of pleasure that tickled through her cunt. 

She worked and worked, grin frozen on her face. She was starting to 
perspire, and she hoped it wouldn't be offensive to him. She was panting and 
her throat was parched again, but she continued to smile down on him. She 
was actively willing him to have an orgasm when her rhythm faltered and his 
cock most tragically skidded out of her cunt. 

"I'm sorry! I'll get it! It was all my fault!" she said, grabbing for the 
slippery thick shaft and doing her clumsy best to stuff it back in her empty 
cunt. 

"Shit, I better do it," he growled, and he rolled them over and had himself 
back inside her with startling ease, and with most gratifying results. 

He had Ellie's buttocks right on the edge of the bed. Her heels were 
widespread on the bare wooden floor and her back was laid across the bed. 
This posture elevated her hips quite sharply, and Carl, with the toes of his 
work shoes planted firmly on the floor and his arms about her torso, could 
use all of his considerable male strength to drive his big cock up Ellie's 
willing but weary cunt. 

"Uh! Uh! Nnggh!" He grunted like an animal as he drove that big thing up her 
for all he was worth, splitting her fully open twat with it and thudding his 
balls up against her asscheeks and slamming his pube into hers. The angle of 
their union was such that his cock was driving far deeper than ever it had 
before, its blunt snout touching parts of Ellie that had certainly never 
been touched before. At first it was quite unpleasant, then it became 
tolerable, and at last it came to feel quite good when his cockhead slipped 
over those internal parts of her feminine anatomy. 

She was really getting to like it. "Lift up your . . . legs!" he grunted, 
and she did and she liked it even better. He was still pushing in cuntlips 
and hairs with his tremendously fierce drives and slamming hard against that 
internal clit she had, while she held her legs as high as she could and 
reached toward heaven with him. But then his grunts turned to signs, his 
rhythm quickly slowed to a stop, and the thick wedge of his cock was eased 
out of her as her lover sat back on his haunches on the floor. 

"Yep," he said. "Nothing like a little morning glory to start the day. Time 
to get it in gear now," he said, and gave her such a pinch on her ass that 
she squealed and sat up. "Lots to do today. But you sure better grab a quick 
bath before you come out. And comb your hair. I gotta go into town and get 
some key blanks. Dotty will give you breakfast and tell you what she needs 
done." 

He rose and closed his pants, and in rising panic Ellie said, "What will I 
wear? I don't have anything to put on. What clothes I have are in my 
suitcase." 

"I'll have Alan fetch it to you," he said from the door. 

"No!" The thought of him bringing her clothes to her when she was naked was 
terrifying to her. But she couldn't let Carl know that she feared his crazy 
son. "The . . . the clothes in my suitcase are too nice to wear for 
housework. Don't you have any of your wife's old clothes I could wear till 
you get back from town with something for me? Or I could just wait here till 
you got back. And rest." 

"No rest around here," he said. "I'll find something for you to wear. You 
take that bath now." 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Weariness and soreness immediately moved in on Ellie. She had to make it 
into the tub quickly, before she could no longer move. Even the tepid water 
stung as she eased her body into it, but then it felt good, it felt 
wonderful to lie back and let the warmth soak in. 

There was no bubble bath or shampoo here in this meager bathroom. All she 
had was a piece of Lava soap, abrasive included, to wash away the stains of 
almost twenty-four hours of activity that she was far from used to. She'd 
get used to it because she was in love with Carl, and she'd even get used to 
that nervous anxious feeling that surely came from getting too close to a 
climax and then not reaching it. On her own now, she'd have to get used to a 
lot of things, some of which would be unpleasant, but the great joy of love 
and sex that Carl had shown her would make up for a lot of bad times. Ellie 
smiled and closed her eyes and dwelt with her mind on the good times. 

"Wake up!" Carl shouted, and Ellie came to with a start and began to 
vigorously wash herself. He tossed her a green garment and said, "You can 
wear this, and you better hurry up and get it on or you'll miss breakfast. 
See you this afternoon, kid. Do what Dotty says, but if she gives you any 
trouble, tell her to shove it, as per Carl Ogilvey Dawkins, Esquire." 

He slammed out and she started washing and shampooing, working very fast, 
driven by a growling stomach. She quickly dried herself off, and the aches 
and pains had diminished somewhat by then. She picked up Mrs. Dawkins' 
housedress to put it on and recognized it as one of her own dresses, a very 
nice one her mother had bought for her junior high school commencement 
exercises, a green dress-whose skirt had been the shortest she'd ever been 
allowed to have. It indicated that the work lined up for her was very light, 
and Ellie dressed in it without the comforting benefit of any underclothes 
at all, forgotten by Carl in his haste as a businessman and 
head-of-household. The little skirt seemed shorter than she'd remembered it 
when she put it on. She had to be very careful of her posture when she went 
to face her lover's wife. 

Mrs. Dawkins met Ellie in the kitchen with a fierce glower. She looked her 
up and down sneering while Ellie twisted her hands before her and forced a 
smile, and then she jerked her thumb toward the back door and said, "There's 
some wash out there by the set tub. Get at it." 

Ellie edged past her and was reaching for the front door when, SLASH!, a 
scalding stripe of pain seared across the backs of her upper thighs. She 
grabbed at herself there, in time to keep her skirt from flying up to reveal 
her bare bottom, and turned toward Mrs. Dawkins blinking back tears. The 
older woman was calmly setting down a limber bamboo rod, and calmly looking 
back at Ellie through her blackened eye. Ellie proceeded on, feeling deeply 
sorry for the woman. 

The set tub was a concrete sink behind the house, the work to be done in it 
a pile of jeans and coveralls obviously too filthy to be handled by a 
washing machine. She went to work on them with cheerful vigor, glad to be 
out in the sunshine, certain that the activity would work the aches and 
pains out of her muscles, if not her pussy. 

Carl had fucked her so many times! And introduced her to such ecstasies as 
she'd never known existed. What a shame Mrs. Dawkins didn't understand their 
love for one another. Or that she was even alive. Ellie was immediately 
sorry for that uncharitable thought, and for the one that followed and 
wished Alan equally out of their lives. She and Carl would just have to make 
the best of things. The course of true love never did run smooth, she 
thought, and then leaped with fresh pain as she was stung on the behind by 
the biggest insect in the world. 

She looked around her, saw no bees or hornets. But when she lifted her skirt 
she saw an angry red spot just below the round swell of her naked left 
buttock. She rubbed it, looked around again, and returned to her work. She 
was just smugly thinking about Carl and his cock again when once again that 
sharp stab of pain stung her to the quick. 

This time she spun about quickly enough to see Alan's black head duck behind 
a pile of lumber lying in the tall wild oats. The little brat had a 
slingshot or a beebee gun or something, and Ellie's half covered bottom 
presented a target just too tempting for him to pass up. Ever a resourceful 
girl, Ellie found a ragged khaki blanket in the pile of laundry, wrapped it 
around her waist, and returned to her work. 

Now she could feel Alan's projectiles hitting the draped blanket, but there 
was no sting in them. Occasionally one would hit her elbow as his rate of 
fire increased, but most simply thudded against the thick wool with nothing 
more than irritation for her. But even irritation can be irritating. The 
scratchy blanket added to it. She thought about it, decided to test the 
extent of Alan's mental deficiency, and removed the blanket from around her. 

One more errant shot hit the back of the house and then the volley stopped. 
She smiled at her cleverness, and that young Alan wasn't as dumb as he 
looked. Now, with a good, unobstructed view of her legs and bottom, his hand 
had dropped the slingshot handle in favor of his prick. And he was certainly 
getting a good view. Long slender legs, shaven smooth and smoothly muscular, 
tapering up to firmly globular buttocks, at least half of which he could see 
as she bent over the tub in her short skirt. And between those legs, high up 
between her roundly tapered thighs, he could see the split bulge of her 
pussy prettily peeping back at him with hardly a blonde hair to obscure the 
view. The view kept him quiet, and Ellie kept subtly changing that view to 
ensure his peace. 

It was a very daring thing for a girl like Ellie to do. Nothing at all in 
her upbringing even suggested such behavior. But with the training she'd had 
in the past twenty-four hours, it was a very logical thing to do. Carl 
seemed to think she was pleasing to look at. His son did too, or he wouldn't 
have been climbing that tree the day before and behaving as he had. Ellie 
obviously had something that interested males, and if she could gain 
something by showing it to them, she'd show it to them. 

She felt in her bones that he might be aiming his slingshot at her again and 
so she bent down deeply into the tub, giving him an almost complete view of 
her naked posterior. And then she felt the threat pass quietly away, and she 
could work in peace again. To forestall another attack she bent almost 
double in picking up some more laundry, and in that position with her bottom 
raised on high, she swung it back and forth as if having difficulty with the 
dirty clothes. She even reached back and scratched herself there from time 
to time, looking at herself from over her shoulder, as if she hadn't the 
slightest notion he was hiding in the weeds. Perfect peace was the result, 
and incidentally some very warm little thrills that she was able to easily 
to calm the savage beast in the idiot boy. 

She took an armload of laundered clothing to the clotheslines and made sure 
to face the boy's hiding place as she hung them up with clothespins. And of 
course each time she reached up to the clothesline the front of her dress 
was lifted up to reveal the dainty blonde and pink plumpness of her cunt. 
All these things and more she did, and at first it was hard to keep a 
straight face about it. Soon, however, that became easy to do, for there was 
nothing all that funny about being a very sexy young lady who knew just what 
to do with her body. She rolled her hips on the way back to the washing sink 
in a way she knew looked sexy somehow and in a way that was somehow quite 
natural for her. Her reward for this as she glanced over her shoulder was 
the sight of Alan's face above the woodpile, all flushed and red and staring 
without a thought of concealing himself any longer. She tossed her blonde 
mane proudly and resumed her work, shaking her lovely bottom and feeling 
absolutely marvelous about the whole thing. 

Ellie wasn't even halfway through the big pile of laundry when Dotty figured 
out what was going on in her back yard. It was Alan's mindless ogling that 
gave it all way. At first Dotty couldn't figure out what her little boy was 
doing there behind the wood pile, mouth hung open and eyes bulging, face 
looking as if he was having the sunstroke. Dotty just couldn't figure it 
out. She knew where the girl was working and she knew Alan was staring in 
that direction, but she also knew Alan was still a bit young to be lastingly 
interested in anything beyond the truck and his beloved keys. She set out to 
investigate, left the house by the side door, and made a wide circle through 
the field to approach him unnoticed. 

A tree and one of the outbuildings concealed what Dotty sought until the 
last moment, and then she saw the whole sordid scene at once. There was that 
whore of a girl with her big naked ass sticking out for her darling to see, 
and there was poor Alan, not knowing how he'd been seduced, but abusing 
himself in the cruelest manner. He was kneeling, looking at the whore from 
over the wood pile, and his pants were down around his knees and his little 
fist was flying like a jackhammer around his entirely immature penis. She 
wanted to weep for his lost innocence, but outrageous anger overwhelmed this 
feeling, anger at the snotty little bitch who'd screwed her husband silly 
and was now in the process of debauching her only son. She waded through the 
thick grass, picked up a long limber slat from the wood pile, and stalked 
furiously on toward that awful girl. 

"Aw, Mom! Mom! What're you doin'? ? ? " 

Ellie whirled at this and summed up the scene in a moment. She covered her 
previously flaunted bottom with both her hands and backed against the house, 
shaking her head and saying, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Dawkins! I didn't know he was 
there! And Ca . . . your husband didn't give me any panties to wear this 
morning! Please don't be mad." 

But she was angry, and it didn't help to have Alan running after her, 
holding up his fallen pants and crying, "Aw, Mom! I was just looking! I 
wasn't screwing her like Pop did! Aw, Mom!" 

They arrived before Ellie at the same time, Alan still whining his 
entreaties, Dotty so fucking mad she could hardly say, "Turn around. Bend 
over. Lift up that skirt and I'll show you all your fat ass is good for!" 

Ellie cringed back against the wall, swallowed hard and said, 
"Sh-sh-sh-shove it!" 

WHOP! A roundhouse left hand, coming from the opposite direction of the 
wooden slat, caught Ellie with enough force and surprise to knock her to the 
ground amid dazzling stars. Mrs. Dawkins was standing astraddle her at once, 
shrieking horrible imprecations and flailing at her with the stick till that 
broke, then yanking her hair and clothing and beating at her with her fists. 
The furious onslaught would have been demoralizing under any circumstances 
but these, for now all it did was bring Ellie out of her stunned daze and 
make her fight back as she'd never have thought of doing deliberately. 

She scissored her body around one of Mrs. Dawkins' legs, gave a heave and 
sent her yelling to the ground. She launched herself at her, caught her hair 
and pulled hard, then caught her apron and ripped it right off her as Mrs. 
Dawkins rolled away through the dirty clothes, with Ellie right behind her. 
She caught her again, and now they rolled in the dirt, kicking and clawing 
and scratching and shrieking, until both had had enough for the moment and 
got to their feet to circle each other warily, crouching, teeth bared and 
claws extended. 

Alan had been shouting, "Come on, Mom! Git her, Mom!" But now he was struck 
dumb by the sight of them, for though he'd had wild dreams about the foster 
girl all night long, he never thought he'd see his mother like this. 

Her apron was long gone and she'd lost one of her shoes, and even as Alan 
gaped she kicked off the other to give herself better purchase for this 
mini-battle of Amazons. One whole side of her long skirt had been torn away, 
revealing the muscular shapeliness of her bare legs and the snow white nylon 
panties that clung so intimately to her hip and buttock. A large smudge of 
dirt on those panties somehow seemed to enhance the pristine purity of them, 
and make the womanflesh that they contained all the more intriguing to her 
son. The bodice of her cotton print dress was torn too, and now he could 
clearly see the white brassiere that he'd only been able to glimpse in the 
past, so fully packed with pure sexuality that he felt dizzy and had to rub 
the aching hard pecker in his pants. He'd seen her several times naked and 
screwing with his father but this was different, entirely different, for she 
was wildly sexy now, and he was the only man who could see her that way. 

The girl was wildly sexy-looking too, but Alan expected that of her. Both 
her dress and her fine white flesh were badly smudged with dirt and grass 
stains, and her dress was torn down about one shoulder. She was trying to 
right it as she circled against his mother, and Alan got look after look at 
a naked titty, pink-tipped, that was every bit as sexy as any he'd ever seen 
in Playboy. He'd already seen her legs and her ass and her cunt, but not 
nearly close enough, not this close, and he squeezed his pecker more and he 
panted to see more. 

Or course both females were battle-angry, with claw marks on their skin and 
hair that was in wild disarray. They were panting as they circled, looking 
for any opening, and Alan honestly didn't know for whom he should be 
rooting. He'd love to see his mother beat the girl good, but at the same 
time he sure wouldn't mind it if Ellie ripped every stitch off his mom and 
gave him a really good look at her tits, and even at her cunt. 

"Come on!" he shouted, and they both responded, clashing together with 
shrill cries of fury. 

They shrieked and clawed at hair and clothes and flesh, bit and kicked like 
alley cats. Each sought to topple the other to the ground where she could 
fall on top of her and beat her badly, and each failed for now. Dotty fought 
with mature strength and wily cunning, hotly tempered with her rage. Ellie 
fought with superior height and youthful vigor, too unfamiliar with anger to 
realize how it drove her on. It was Dotty who hooked Ellie's leg and sent 
her crashing to the ground in a flurry of green rags and white arms and legs 
and ass, and it was Ellie who recovered quickly enough to be grappling with 
Dotty the moment her full weight was upon her. And it was Alan who dug his 
hand through his open fly to his pecker and shouted, "Get her! Get her!" 

They were rolling again on the ground, shrieking and eating dust and tearing 
at anything at hand. Dirt was cloying with sweat as they grape-vined their 
legs together and strained in every way they could. Their shrieks turned 
into gruntings and pantings, and still they fought on, each dimly aware of 
the shouting boy who watched them, each furiously intent on subduing the 
other. 

Dotty tried to bite Ellie's throat, and Ellie jerked her back by the head of 
her hair, just in time. Now with Dotty's throat exposed, Ellie tried to 
throttle her, and would have if Dotty hadn't raised a hard knee between her 
legs that connected solidly enough to double Ellie up. Dotty was sure she 
had full advantage now, but she followed through badly, pummeling the 
moaning girl with the sides of her fists and ripping away the very last of 
her imagine green minidress. She should have pinioned her then, completely 
subdued her and beg for mercy, but her mindless attack gave Ellie the chance 
to gasp her way out of her pain and twist about and get good hold of Dotty's 
wrist with both hands. 

Up between her shoulder blades it went, just as Ellie had seen it done on TV 
Wrestling, a late show her mother had forbidden her to see. It was 
surprisingly, wonderfully effective. Ellie lay on top of her, twisting that 
arm up, while Dotty lay face down in the dirt, beating the ground with her 
free hand and begging, "Stop! Don't break it! I give up! You win!" 

Alan was too excited to be disappointed. And his vantage point was too 
obscured by rising dust clouds to be able to appreciate the condition of the 
women who were fighting. For him! He peered through the dust, seeing more 
and more of them, moving slowly and breathing very hard as they struggled to 
their feet. 

Ellie got up first, reeling backward, fully naked and utterly glorious even 
with all the dirt and dust on her body. Dotty got up more slowly, like the 
old woman that she was, pausing to rest on one knee, then creaking up to her 
feet, swaying and looking about to faint. He could see one of her tits then, 
and almost everything else but her cunt, for both her brassiere and her 
panties were half torn away. It was great to see it. Her naked tit was nice, 
big, and the way it sagged wasn't bad at all. The edge of dark hair peeping 
from her torn panties was great too. But this vanquished Amazon, all dirty 
and worn out, was about as sexy as a boy when compared to the grimy but 
proudly gorgeous girl who stood triumphant before her. 

"You win," Dotty panted. "You're the fucking mistress of the household," she 
said, and extended her hand in defeat. 

Ellie, quite stunned by the enormity of her victory, reached out to take 
that conciliatory hand-and was rudely and roughly snatched forward to 
collide belly to belly with the soft but obviously tough body of Mrs. 
Dawkins. 

"Uff!" The breath went right out of Ellie with the collision. Before she 
knew it two very strong arms were locked around her midriff and any air left 
in her lungs was forcefully expelled. Exhausted already, she now felt weaker 
than a kitten as she was bear-hugged and shaken at the same time by the 
grimacing woman until the strength was quickly sapped from her legs and made 
her even more helpless. 

She tried to push at Mrs. Dawkins' soft shoulders, but they were hard as 
rock under the velvety skin. She tried to heave up with a solid knee between 
Mrs. Dawkins' legs, but she had no strength left, and Mrs. Dawkins' crotch 
was just up too high. It was up so high it was pressing hard against 
Ellie's. Ellie had a weird flash of Carl's cock, surrealistically 
double-ended and stuck in both of their cunts at once. 

She faltered into unconsciousness. Dotty eased her down a bit and took a new 
grip around her waist, lifted her higher and began to shake her. Air rushed 
into Ellie's lungs as she was lifted and shaken by the fantastically 
powerful woman. Her bare feet were just grazing the ground now and her hands 
were weakly clinging to Mrs. Dawkins' shoulders. Her naked tits were 
quivering against Mrs. Dawkins' chest and her pubis was pressed close 
against her assailant's sweating, muscular belly. She could breath now, but 
very shallowly as Dotty shook all remaining resistance out of her. Both of 
their grimy bodies were slick with perspiration and Ellie, semiconscious, 
was slipping slowly down as Dotty held her fast in the punishing hold. And 
as she slipped her cuntlips dragged against the shredded nylon of Dotty's 
panties. Ellie was still straining back against the grip and it made her 
cunt feel hugely swollen, so much so that her clitty had extruded from it 
and was being mashed hard against Dotty's rippling abdominal muscles. More 
surrealistic pictures flashed through her bursting brain, all of them 
exquisitely beautiful and quite un-understandable as the completely dominant 
woman panted hotly against her throat and squeezed her squirming body with 
overwhelming force. Ellie found she was uttering words-"Oh-h-h. Yes. Oh-h. 
Yes, I give up!-until a wonderful feeling of all-over peace enveloped her 
and she was dropped from the warmth into the dirt. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

The woman Alan gazed at so awestruck did not look like his mother. Her hair 
was in wild disarray and she was panting heavily and rivulets of sweat 
streaked white through her dirt-covered body, but this did not account for 
the change in her. Or for the way Alan looked at her. She was absolutely 
beautiful as she stood triumphant over the supine blonde. One of her 
gorgeous big tits hung completely bare and he could see much of the big 
brown nipple of the other one through the remnants of that torn bar cup. Her 
panties had been torn even more in the final round of her Amazon wrestling 
match and now all that remained was the crotch band and a side panel, held 
up by the bare elastic band about her waist. At her feet the blonde girl was 
totally naked and, oddly enough, softly smiling in her state of swooning, 
but Alan's snarling, panting mother was by far the more beautiful of the 
two. He'd even forgotten about the stiff prick in his pants as he hurried to 
her, saying, "Mom! Are you okay?" 

"Fine," she said, stretching toward the sun, gloriously beautiful! "I feel 
just fine now." 

He feel to his knees in the dirt beside her, gingerly touched a long scrape 
on her calf, and said, "She hurt you! Mom, you've got scratches and scrapes 
all over you!" he said, and his trembling hands touched her thighs and her 
bare buttock most tremulously. 

"Oh, I'm all right," she said, and laughed and bent and kissed her son on 
the lips, more lingeringly than she's planned, for as she'd bent she'd seen 
that his prick was up very hard, and sticking out of his pants. That's 
another problem that blonde bitch has caused me, she said to herself with 
her lips on her son's and her whole being feeling marvelously alive and 
young and vibrant. "I'm all right," she said, rising from him and smiling at 
his raptly adoring face. "It's the girl who's out of it." 

"I think she's dead!" said Alan, and quickly turned and bent over her to lay 
his ear against her softly heaving chest and listen for a heartbeat. 

Ellie stirred her long legs, eyes still closed but smile deepening, and 
Dotty's anger smoldered anew. The bitch had taken her husband from her but 
she wasn't going to get her son too. "She's all right, dammit!" Dotty 
snapped. "You stand up and talk to me, young man. You have some explaining 
to do." 

Alan took his cheek from the dirt-covered satin flesh and got up slowly, 
poking his prick back in his pants and clasping his hands in front of it. He 
felt it would never go soft again, not even as his mother shook a finger in 
his face and said, "Just what the hell were you doing behind the wood pile, 
beating your meat and peeking at that goddammed bitch! You ought to be 
ashamed of yourself! What have you got to say?" 

"I couldn't help it," he whined. "I was working and she came over and 
started in talking to me and I couldn't help but look up her dress and see 
her . . . her thing. She just smiled and lifted up her skirt. It really made 
me feel funny. And then she asked me if I wanted to see a show, and when I 
said I guessed so she lifted up her skirt in the back and went over and 
started washing clothes at the set tub. I had to look! I couldn't help it! 
It made me feel so. . . funny." 

"Poor baby," said Dotty, and hugged him to her, dirt and all, and felt his 
sighs tingle through her and felt his sweet, hot little hands groping for 
understanding and finding more of the same kind of flesh that had made him 
feel so funny. She pushed him back, held his arms and said, "Did it make you 
feel funny . . . down below?" 

He looked straight at her tits, slack-jawed, and murmured, "Uh-huh." 

"Of course it did," she said, and hugged him and kissed him again. "And do 
you still feel funny, honey?" 

"Lots more," he said, squirming his fists against his bone-hard pecker. "It 
hurts now. It really does!" 

"Poor angel!" she exclaimed, and hugged him yet again, hard-pressed to 
squeeze him just as hard as she'd squeezed the fallen fifteen-year-old girl. 

"Let me see. Let Mother see," she said, pushing his hands away and groping 
inside his pants for him, panting as hard as he was, though he was surely 
far too excited to notice that. "It shouldn't hurt. I'm sure nothing's wrong 
with my darling boy, but 

I'd better see for myself," she said, thrilling at his every reaction as her 
hand found his marvelously hard little prick and brought it out into the 
sunlight with her. 

He was wincing and gasping and going up on his toes, and Dotty knelt down 
before she fell down and examined the beautiful young prick in her hand up 
close. She could hardly speak and neither could he as she drew back the 
foreskin and squeezed the hard shaft, pulled down his trousers and included 
his balls in her inspection. 

"It looks fine. Just fine!" 

"Mom! Mom, I feel so funny!" 

"And your little balls are just perfect, perfect!" 

"They hurt the most, Mom! Your hand feels so good, but. . . uh-h-h . . . my 
balls just ache!" . 

"They're so full. They're too full," she told him, panting, pushing back her 
tangled hair, down on her knees with the most beautiful little prick in the 
world in her hands. 

"Do you play with yourself a lot, darling? Do you jerk off? Do you do this a 
lot?" she said, and she drew the foreskin back and forth over his flawless 
pink peckerhead, back and forth with uncontrollable sensuality. 

"Never! This was the first time. Today. 

Looking at her," he scornfully said. 

Dotty inched closer on her knees, one hand sliding up the backs of his 
quaking legs and squeezing his tensed buttocks, the other still handling his 
hot, hard prick and his full, throbbing balls. "And do you have crazy dreams 
at night and wake up with warm sticky stuff in your jams? Do you, honey? You 
can tell me. I'm your Mom." 

He nodded, panting ever faster. "Crazy dreams. About girls. About.. .about 
you!" 

"Darling!" she moaned, and hugged him, actually felt his prick for a moment 
against her cheek and throat. "Tell me. I've got to know!" 

"I dream about you . . . with Dad," he said. "And he's doing things to you. 
And I dream about you by yourself, and that's better, all by yourself and 
just in your underwear, dancing and smiling and looking right at me!" 

"And do you ever dream that I. . . take my underwear off for you? And smile 
and dance with nothing on at all for you?" 

"No! That'd be too much. But I do dream that you . . . you dance real close, 
and you keep right on dancing while I put my hand inside your panties and. . 
. and touch you!" 

She could feel his touch, inside her shredded panties, and it gave her the 
craziest notions she's ever had in her life. She glanced behind her down the 
hill, saw nothing but open space beyond the unconscious girl, and she had to 
ask, "Have you dreamed about Ellie much?" 

"No. Not at all," he said, looking down at that beautiful sexy girl and 
recalling his last night's dream in such vivid detail that his prick gave a 
jerk in his mother's moving fingers. "I hate her for making me feel so funny 
today and for getting me into trouble with you. And for making my.. . my 
prick and balls hurt so," he said, squirming them in his mother's loving 
hands, and wincing at the perfectly wonderful ache down there. 

Again Dotty glanced over her shoulder. Not a soul in sight. Her mind was 
made up now, and she had warmth in her purring voice as she said, "I'm going 
to take the hurt away, darling. Mother's going to kiss your sweet prick and 
make it feel better, suck on it and make you feel really good." 

"Oh, Mom! Oh, Mom.'! ! " he exclaimed, but she was already sucking his fine, 
hard prick, with no turning back. She settled down with her big seething hot 
bottom on the dirt and started sliding her pursed lips up and down the full 
length of hisprick pausing to suck on its lovely soft end and lick it, 
holding him firm in her roving hands. 

It was the most delicious, the sexiest prick she'd ever sucked. In her youth 
she'd sucked cocks till she was sick of them and the j ism they spurted, but 
this very special one had her salivating wildly and lavishly employing every 
sweet sucking technique she thought she'd forgotten. 

"Mom! Mom! Mom! I love you!" he cried, quaking all over and grasping her 
bobbing head, and making her suck him all the more lavishly. 

She was dying for more of him. She longed to feel his throbbing balls 
rolling in her mouth, to French kiss deeply in his sweat-scented groins, to 
bend him over and French him even more deeply in his sweet asshole. But in 
the wonderful heat of her reborn excitement she could do nothing but suck 
his cock and suck his sock while his excitement soared as it never had 
before. 

Cum! Cum! Cum for me!, she inwardly commanded, and he uttered a soul felt 
gasp and began to shoot. 

It came with terrific force! The first jet of his semen squirted and skidded 
right on over her tongue and down her throat, bringing on a weird but 
definite climax to Dotty as she kept right on sucking for more. With 
increased urgency. She had the wild notion she could suck a full life span's 
cum from his prick, and thus free him of the troublesome need for women for 
all his remaining years. 

It felt to Alan as if more than a lifetime's semen was gushing and shooting 
out of him. His cockhead felt positively huge in the suction of his mother's 
warm, living mouth, and his nuts felt as if they were contracting up inside 
his body with each heavy ejaculation from his cock. It went on and on, 
fantastically, as he stood sqaying in the sun and moaning, "Mo-m-m-m-m! Mom, 
that feels so good!" 

She would gladly have sucked his prick right off. But with the ebbing of his 
deliciously invigorating semen came the partial return of her senses and she 
let his still stiff dick slip from her mouth to laugh and rough-house kisses 
all about his pink flushed loins. She couldn't keep from laughing. She felt 
like a giddy girl again, heart throbbing madly and body seeming to radiate 
with warm vitality. 

He looked still in a daze as she rose to her feet. He looked beautifully 
boyish too, hair tousled and pants down around his ankles and moist white 
prick standing up. It made her feel how awful she must look, and took him by 
the hand and said, "Come help me get this dirt off me, darling. I must look 
a mess." 

Alan tripped and fell over his pants, kicked out of them and followed after 
his wonderful, laughing, skipping mother. She went to the hose bib and 
turned it on, squealed and went on laughing as she held the gushing hose 
over her head and let it wash away the dirt of her triumphant battle. The 
grime peeled away as if by magic, transforming her into a gleaming wet, 
living marble statue. His half nudity forgotten, Alan watched her in rapt 
awe until she laughed and turned the hose on his loins. 

He gasped, then grinned and sloshed the cold water all about his hot prick 
and balls, exclaiming, "It feels good!" 

She turned the end of the hose inside what was left of her panties, waggled 
her eyebrows and said, "It sure does. We both got too hot, didn't we." 

"Uh-huh," he said, staring straight at the big bubble of water that billowed 
out her crotch band and flowed down between her legs. 

She cast the hose between them and stretched, dripping heavily, now knowing 
exactly what she was doing and committed to it. She turned and bent and 
presented her backside to him, saying, "Be a dear. Pick up the hose and wash 
my fanny for me. I just can't reach it." 

Alan's hot gaze never left his mother's butt as he bent to pick up the 
bubbling hose. It was just half covered with nylon now, and the nylon was so 
soaked it was near transparent. Her panties had been torn diagonally across 
the seat, exposing the top of the crack of her ass, with the torn nylon 
hanging down like a flap between her panties' waistband and leg hole. He 
felt he might be in another of his dreams as he sprayed his mother's big 
round upturned ass with the water. 

"Feels good!" she said, and wiggled it all around as she stood with her 
hands on her knees. 

He grinned and put his thumb over the end of the hose, and she squealed and 
wriggled faster as he played a strong jet of water all over her butt and up 
between her legs. 

"Oooo. That does feel good," she said, and she stood up straight with both 
feet wide apart, and drew her asscheeks up and apart with both hands. Alan 
crouched down and squirted the hose straight up between her legs, right 
against her cunt and her asshole!, and she giggled and squealed and shook 
the big globes she was clutching. "Inside now. Get me inside," she said. 

He stood up and thrust the hose inside the torn seat of her panties, holding 
the end of it right up close in his fist so he could feel all he could of 
her slippery round softnesses. Her hips and buttocks she squirmed more 
slowly now, more luxuriously as the cool water bubbled and surged around her 
holes. She was pissing, and quite a lot, feeling marvelously good all over 
and knowing she'd be feeling better yet soon. 

"Front too," she said, and turned to face him with her hands clasped behind 
her neck, his to wash as he chose. His face was splitting with his grin as 
he got down on his knees again and stuck the hose inside what was left of 
the front panel of her panties and worked the water and his hand all around. 
He even touched her hair! 

She let him go right ahead and do it, and this plus her radiant smile led 
him to say, "I, uh I might as well just take your panties clear off and do 
it really good? I mean, they're all torn up and everything, and I just 
thought, uh.. . . " 

"These?" she said, and plucked at the soddenly clinging garment. "These are 
my very best panties. But if you want to take 'em off.. . . " 

She rolled the waistband halfway down over her soft, widely sweeping hips 
and replaced her hands behind her neck. Her hips were swaying and lilting 
before his glazed over eyes. He dropped the hose and reached up with both 
twitching hands, and his mother's warm chuckle sent chills up and down his 
spine as he continued the downward course of her panties that she had 
started. 

They clung to her very wetly. He practically had to peel them off. But then 
there was her big hairy pussy pooping at him as she bent, placed a hand on 
his shoulder, and stepped out of her panties. And then there it was again, 
in full view, as she stood up once more so he could continue to wash her 
good. 

It was a weird thing, her pussy. He didn't like the looks of it at all at 
first. There was so much hair, and unlike a guy, there really wasn't 
anything there to see. But then he learned that when he parted that hair 
with the hose water there was quite a bit to look at, and all of it more and 
more fascinating. Pink frilly lips, all soft and gleaming, with highly 
interesting convolutions within them. He couldn't quite see her hole, and 
that disturbed him, but he could see a thing like a miniature pink prick at 
the top of her slit, and he sure could tell how it tickled her when he 
squirted her there. 

"Oooo. You're making me feel funny now," she said, hips stock still now as 
he played the water right there on her little prick. "It's cold, but it 
feels so-o-o-o good. That's Mother's clit. D'you see it!" she said, and most 
obligingly spread her cuntlips wide with her fingers so none of it could be 
missed. He even took the hose away so he could see it better. 

"I feel so clean!" she said. "Clean enough for you to touch me there, if you 
wanted to. Just to see what a woman's all about." She giggled charmingly and 
said, "Clean enough for you to kiss me there." 

His hand shook before his eyes as he lifted it, touched a finger to her 
clit. She gasped and said, "Oh, honey! You do have me feeling funny. Oh. Oh, 
my," she murmured, moving her hips again as he experimented with moving his 
finger. 

He was doing things to her! No doubt, about it, he was making her feel 
nearly as wild good as she'd made him feel. And just with his finger.. . . 

"Mom?" 

"Yes, darling," she said, swaying closer. "What is it, dear? What do you 
want?" 

"Should I.. . kiss it? Your clit? Like you kissed my d-dick?" 

Her lips curled into a smile and her finger curled into his wet black hair. 
She said, "Yes, darling, you should. It's just what I want you to do. But 
don't just kiss it. Suck it. Suck my cunt," she purred, and drew him to it 
by a lock of his hair, and her sigh came up from her toes when he fastened 
his mouth to her and sucked. 

He sucked and sucked, right on the spot, and felt each warm tremor that ran 
through her lovely wet body. Her cunt tasted like chlorine from the hose 
water, overlying another flavor for which there was no description at all. 
Her clit fit well in his mouth, and he quickly found that by tickling it 
with his tongue it did even more good things to her. 

"Suck Mother's cunt. Yes, suck Mother's cunt!" said Dotty, thought he was 
already doing that very well. "It's been so fucking long since I've had it 
sucked. It's all clean and nice for you now, and it's so fucking goddammed 
good!" she exploded, widening her stance and holding him hard by the hair 
and jamming her cunt and clit up at him with uncontrollable snappings of her 
hips. 

It scared him. For an insane moment he thought she was going to smother him 
with her twat. In his panic he tried to back off, but she held him firm, 
snarling, and he was frightened enough that he kept it up in fearful haste 
until she'd grunted and groaned in a savage manner and the very bland taste 
of her cunt had changed to something very strong. 

"There!" Dotty grunted, right at the peak of her orgasm, and released her 
inexperienced cunt sucker to let him fall back on his butt on the ground. It 
hadn't been a knockout of an orgasm as far as duration went, but it was more 
than good enough for a start with him. Whew! Her own son eating her box, she 
thought with a grin, as she stood back surveying him and keeping the warm 
tinglings in her cunt alive with her hand. And that was only the beginning 
with him.. . . 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Alan had never realized what a magnificent woman his mother really was. She 
smiled and stepped toward him over the muddy ground, then snatched up the 
hose and turned it on him. He yelped and tried to roll away from it, but she 
followed him steadily with it, pouring forth on him a torrent of cold water 
and gay laughter. He twisted and squirmed through the mud like an eel, then 
in desperation caught one of her legs and tumbled her to the ground with him 
with surprising ease. She kept squirting both of them indiscriminately while 
they rolled from the mud to the grass, with him feeling all the power in her 
body that she'd used to subdue the fallen Ellie. 

And then on the wet grass their rollings suddenly stopped, and Alan found 
himself looking down into the lovely face before him that was no longer 
laughing. Her look was serious, perhaps troubled as they lay their with legs 
and arms intertwined and wet bodies panting together. His stiff prick was 
nested hotly against her pulsing loin, and it itched badly. He felt 
paralyzed, didn't know what to do, until he saw her pink tongue tip come out 
to tremble and trace the outline of her lips, and then he succumbed to a mad 
impulse and kissed her hard as he could on the mouth. 

"Oh, Alan!" she breathed, when the fierce kiss ended. "We shouldn't," she 
said, but her hand was creeping down between them toward his burning prick, 
and his body was shifting to make room for it. 

She took hold of his prick and he said, "Oh, Mom!" 

"We shouldn't," she repeated, "but we have to!" 

"Yes! Mom! Oh! Oh, gosh!" he cried, and then before he knew it he was 
fucking!, inside a cunt and fucking hell out of it! 

He was fucking her insanely! He couldn't stop! He'd seen his father do it in 
her rear, nice and slow until right at the end. But Alan, he was fucking 
away at her like a trip hammer on a rivet and they'd only just begun. And he 
couldn't slow down! 

"Mmmmmm. Oh, yes, we just had to do this," Dotty purred, moving her big ass 
with slow luxurious squelchings on the wet grass, and taking the hard fast 
pounding of his little pecker with gloating ease. In Alan's huge excitement 
he was all too frequently missing her hole, but the hard stabbings anywhere 
in her crotch were highly gratifying for the time being, especially coming 
from him. His whole problem was his huge excitement. He was trying to do it 
all at once, banging away at her like a madman and pawing at her tits and 
trying to clumsily kiss her. His solution would come with experience. And 
she was just the one to give it to him. Enjoying it all the way. 

"Darling, that feels wonderful!" she said, for it really did feel good. 
"You'll be the best little lover in the world before long," she said, 
bumping and grinding with her hips, while he continued to bang away like mad 
at her. "Just don't rush it," she told him, and had a very sweet orgasm from 
their first union before he collapsed on her panting raggedly. 

"Did I.. . do it right? Was it.. . okay? he asked when he could. 

"Beautiful. All you need is experience," she said, and managed to squeeze 
his little pecker with her commodious cunt and make his spent body twitch 
and jerk. "But we'd better get up now and clean up and get dressed. Your 
father might come back early." 

"He doesn't.. . scare me," said Alan, and rolled over from her on his back, 
spread-eagled and still panting, with his dick still stiff and hard as could 
be. 

"He will when he takes a stick after you," she said, and he sat up and 
looked down the empty road. "Which reminds me," she continued, "we're not 
done with little Ellie yet." 

His face lit up like a light bulb. He turned to look at the recumbent naked 
girl, some twenty feet away from them, and to his mother he said, "You said 
I needed experience. Could I . . . . get it from her?" 

"No! Definitely not!" 

"Aw, Mom! Pop's been screwing her. Why can't I? Gee whiz, Mom, how am I 
gonna get experienced enough to be able to really do it to you right and 
really cum if I don't have somebody to practice with? Huh?" 

"Not with her. I'd rather you did it with one of the girls at school. No, 
not with her. 

The very idea!" 

"Aw, Mom! Pop does it to her. I know he does! I seen 'em! If he can, why 
can't I?? ? And then I'll get really good at it, and I can do it to you 
really good. Aw, please, Mom. None of the girls at school will even look at 
me. I don't know how to even talk to 'em. All they care about is the 
football players, and there she is, the ugly old thing, and why can't I 
practice on her? Huh?" 

His idea did have some merit. Alan had the energies of a sexed-up yo-yo but 
neither the experience nor the size to do Dotty the most good. He could get 
those by using the girl, and she wasn't much good for anything else. And 
with Alan banging away at her at every opportunity, she'd be less available 
for her philandering but still beloved husband. "I think you might have a 
good idea there, honey," she said. "Let's talk it over with darling Ellie. 
You bring the hose and I'll get a fresh stick." 

Ellie was dreaming of a peaceful ocean scene when the tidal wave awoke her. 
She sat up choking and spluttering, hearing the laughter above her and then 
seeing Alan and Dotty Dawkins as they stood at her feet. Alan, dressed only 
in a wet tee shirt, was squirting the hose water right in her face, then 
down between her legs, then into her face again. Mrs. Dawkins was smirking 
at his cruel horseplay and leaning casually on a limber lath, looking 
menacing though she was clad in only her torn brassiere. The water felt good 
in a way, for Ellie was filthy and hot and sore, but she held her hands up 
against its stream and said, "Please stop. I'd rather do it myself." 

They both laughed at this and Alan put his thumb over the hose and squirted 
the water against her harder. She was spluttering, unable to defend herself 
from it, and so she spun about on her bare buttocks in the mud and presented 
her back to them to be washed. Her head was yanked back by its hair and Mrs. 
Dawkins' harsh voice said, "Stand up, you! Stand up and let Alan get that 
mud off your filthy body!" 

Ellie stood up. She was intimidated by Dotty Dawkins. She felt she could 
have beaten the older woman in a fair fight, but she knew for sure that she 
was the one who'd been beaten, and with a most peculiar ending to their 
all-out cat fight. 

She stood with her arms at her sides, just as Mrs. Dawkins commanded her to 
do, while the leering Alan, with his penis stuck out like a fat white worm, 
flowed water down over her head and back and shoulders and on her fanny and 
belly and even up between her legs. She hated being dirty and would have 
loved doing this for herself. 

Even as it was this was better than being dirty, she told herself, while she 
stood there naked in the open field for the humiliating ablutions of the 
idiot boy with the hose. 

Being naked before them? That hardly mattered for they'd both seen her 
before that way. Alan's squirting the hose up her pussy and fanny? That 
didn't matter, for when she closed her eyes it almost felt good. Dotty 
standing there with that threatening slat? She'd already taken Mrs. Dawkins' 
worst.. . or had she?? ? 

"Okay, Alan, that's enough," said Mrs. Dawkins, and Alan was quick to throw 
the gushing hose aside. "Stand at ease," she said to Ellie, "back straight, 
feet a yard apart, hands clasped behind your back." 

Ellie did so, dripping wet, long hair streaming down her back and shoulders 
and titties. 

"Now, Alan, these are her tits," said Mrs. Dawkins, and pointed at them with 
her wooden slat. "Feel of them, familiarize yourself with them, and always 
remember that a woman's tits are one of the best places to start in on her." 

"They're really firm! They're almost hard!" he said, while Ellie stood there 
fighting nausea and willing her nipples to become flaccid under his fumbling 
touch. 

But this was not to be. The cold water had made them erect, and now the 
waves of revulsion sweeping through her maintained them in that state. 

"Suck on them," said Mrs. Dawkins, and again he was quick to obey her, going 
back and forth between the turgid pink nipples like a ravenous insect. 

"Feel her bod' while you suck her tits. Women like that. Even her," said 
Mrs. Dawkins, and now a hot hand on Ellie's belly and another on her back 
and ass were added to her mortification on the bright early summer's day. 

"Now see if you can find her clit with your finger, honey. Tickle it and 
make her cunt all wet and nice for some fucking." 

Ellie opened her eyes and her mouth and said, "Please, Mrs. Dawkins. I don't 
think I can stand any more of this." 

"Oh? Oh?" said Dotty, moving around behind her. 'Then bend right over, Miss 
Prissy-Pants, and see if you can stand this better." 

THUH-WHACK! The moment Ellie bent there was a searing swath of fire laid 
across her bare ass. It hardly even hurt. I was just red heat and probably a 
million splinters that made her bottom swell up like a balloon. THUH-WHACK 
again, and the tears spilled forth from Ellie's eyes as she straightened up 
before the grinning boy. 

His finger scrabbling in her slit felt good. Anything felt good after the 
searing she'd had from the indomitable Mrs. Dawkins. Her own hands felt good 
clasped over her scalded fanny too. And so did the sunshine. She cast about 
in her mind for all sorts of things that felt good, but nothing she could 
come up with felt quite as good as the fingers probing and toying about with 
her clitty. 

Little Alan was bouncing up and down in his eagerness with his new toy. 
"Should I kiss her there, Mom? Should I suck her clit?" he eagerly asked, 
and in spite of herself, Ellie felt her cunt opening up like a flower at 
dawn. 

"Certainly not! Why would you ever want to do a thing like that?" 

"So's I can learn how to do it better to you." 

"Alan!" she snapped. "You haven't done anything to me. And you're not going 
to. And you!" she said to Ellie. "If you ever breathe a word to anyone about 
any of this, I won't use this stick on you-I'll use a baseball bat! All 
right, Alan. Go ahead," she sighed. "I just can't deny my big boy anything." 

The first hot stab of his tongue had Ellie thinking she was going to pee. 
And the second had hot chills coursing everywhere through her naked body. It 
was the weirdness of it all, she told herself, the totally alien situation 
of having the teenaged idiot sucking on her clitty while his domineering 
mother stood by and watched. That was what was giving her these feverish 
sweeps of false ecstasy-but she knew very well it was his tongue. 

His lips, too. Good God, they fit around her clitty to perfection, and they 
knew just the right amount of diabolical suction to apply to keep those hot 
chills rising. Add to that his tongue, flicking and swirling relentlessly 
over her swelling clitty and there was no way she could fight down the 
growing ecstasy. He was spreading her cuntlips with his thumbs to get still 
more of her body going, and she was breathing much harder in spite of 
herself and restlessly rubbing her palms over taut and trembling hips. She 
was rising toward the real true ecstasy she'd only known with Carl when, 
THUH-WHACK!, her bare bottom was seared once again. 

"Hands behind you!" Mrs. Dawkins snapped and Ellie obeyed her at once. 

The pain was nothing. She could massage that away with her palms. It was the 
ecstasy that mattered. She could go on and on with it forever, letting it 
slowly rise to fill her. Or she could rise to meet it, help it, and this she 
did, secret grin on her face, very softly rotating her hips to move her 
sucked-on clit in young Alan's lips. 

"She's starting in to taste funny. Like you did," said Alan, backing off at 
a most critical time for Ellie. "Can I fuck her now, Mom?" 

Mrs. Dawkins said, "Of course you can, honey. But first you better warm her 
up some more. With this," she said, and held out the wooden slat. 

He rose up taking it in his hand. He grinned from it to Ellie to his mother 
and said, "Can I swat her with it? Really?" 

Mrs. Dawkins nodded. "Really you can. And then you can fuck her. 

"Please, Mrs. Dawkins," said Ellie, all seething with nervous frustration, 
and tragically feeling those sweet ecstasies ebbing away. "Haven't I been 
spanked enough?" 

Dotty came to her and touched her cheek. She really was a beautiful girl, 
and the duration of her son's cunt licking hadn't really surprised Dotty. 
She was beautiful and young and submissive and awakened to sex, and she had 
a very sensuous mouth. Close to her now, Dotty could most vividly recall the 
feeling of her struggling body clasped to hers in their wrestling match. It 
made her wonder if she'd underestimated the sensuality of Ellie's pretty, 
trembling mouth. 

"Do you think you've been spanked enough?" she said. "After fucking my 
husband, do you really think you've been spanked enough?" 

Ellie looked down at the big breasts that had suckled young Alan, and that 
Mrs. Dawkins had given so freely to the man she'd married. And she shook her 
head, ashamed. 

"That's right," said Dotty, clasping the girl's upper arms with a gentleness 
she didn't inwardly feel. "The question is, do you want Alan to do it or 
will it be me who lays the wood to you?" 

Ellie looked up into Mrs. Dawkins' eyes, and still saw the glint of anger 
there. Now she felt the gentle fingers dig deep into her arms, and she 
shivered and shook her head and said, "Alan. Let Alan do it, if he wants 
to." 

Dotty kissed her cheek. Wonderful soft skin! She slipped a hand round her 
slim, tensed waist and said, "We'll do it on the back porch. More 
comfortable there. And Alan won't be too hard on you with the slat." 

"Like heck I won't!" said the boy behind Ellie, and the swish of the wood 
through the air made her shiver and edge closer to Dotty Dawkins. 

Dotty sat down on the second step of the wooden porch and had Ellie kneel on 
the walk before her. Alan was right behind Ellie, both prick and wood posed 
and ready. Dotty took Ellie's hands in hers and placed them on her knees, 
saying, "Hold onto me while he spanks you, Ellie. It'll make it easier for 
you." 

"Y-Yes, Mrs. Dawkins," said Ellie, with a trepidations look over her 
shoulder. 

"Easy does it. Just relax," said Dotty, and slid the girl's warm hands up 
her thighs till they were trembling against the soft pads of her hips. "Just 
lay your head on my lap and hold on," she said, and her heart almost went 
out to the girl as she saw her bite her trembling lower lip and close her 
eyes and obey. 

The girl's cheek felt very nice against Dotty's thigh, her warm breath 
tickling sweetly there. 

THWACK! "OH!" 

The girl's damp head burrowed against Dotty's warm tummy and her hands dug 
deep into soft hips. Dotty smiled down on her and smoothed her hands over 
sweet young shoulders and arms. 

THWACK! "EEE!" 

She had a beautiful white vee back and a perfectly round bottom, turning 
crimson now, but her ragged breathing and the few tears she was shedding 
against Dotty's hairy loins were better than the view. THWACK! "OH!" 

Her outcry was weaker and so were her clutching hands, but her hot breath in 
the hirsute hollow where her face lay was appreciably stronger. 

THWACK! "Ah-h-h!" 

Her arms encircled Dotty's hips for something more to cling to and she was 
moving her anguished head in a delightful way. Even her rib cage and the 
side swells of her tits felt good between Dotty's knees now. The girl was 
almost ready, and Dotty already was. 

THUH-CRACK!, went the slat, breaking in half as Alan vigorously responded to 
his mother's head nodding, and Ellie didn't utter a sound. She just clung 
harder to her only support, shuddering and leaning forward till that 
sensuous mouth of hers was open and panting against Dotty's soft abdomen. 

"That'll be enough," said Dotty, though it was just the start of things 
between herself and this girl's warm mouth. 

"Aw, Mom!" said Alan. "There's plenty more sticks in the pile!" 

"That will be enough!" Dotty sternly said. "Now get some clothes on and get 
back to your chores. Gracious, how much do you think a poor orphan girl can 
stand?" 

"At least I get to fuck her!" he said, and was down on his knees behind her 
at once, jamming and pushing at her rosily inflamed bottom with his hard 
little pecker. 

"Oh-h-h! Oh, please! I'm sorry!" said the girl, looking up at Dotty with 
tear filled eyes, jerking and clinging to her as Alan pounded vigorously 
away at her. 

Dotty smiled and brushed back her hair, hugged her to her tits and said, 
"It's all right. After all, I promised him. That's enough, Alan!" she 
snapped. "Ellie needs some rest now. Quit it I say!" 

"Aw, Mom!" 

"Goddamnit, there's more slats out there for you, too!" 

He drew back at that, reluctantly, and then was grinning like an imp as he 
said, . "Boy! That was really tight! When can I do it again?" 

"When I say so. Maybe never. Come inside, Ellie, dear," she said, and helped 
the weeping, shivering girl to her feet. Her young body was warm, 
wonderfully warm against Dotty's, as she led her inside and up the stairs, 
comforting her all the way, promising things would be better as long as she 
was a good girl. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

It was the same bedroom that Carl had first done it to her in, and that made 
Ellie feel strange. It was strange too to have Mrs. Dawkins comforting her, 
but not so strange that she thought of urning away from her only friend in 
the world. 

Her bottom was very hot and swollen now. Again Mrs. Dawkins proved her new 
friendship by soothing away at least some of the heat with cold cream. Mrs. 
Dawkins sat on the dresser bench to do it, and Ellie stood before her, 
looking over her shoulder to watch the progressive diminishing of the 
crimson blotches under Mrs. Dawkins' knowing hands. Mrs. Dawkins kept 
talking to her while she did it, and it was more than just nice to hear a 
warm voice w ich made no demands of her. All she talked about was how happy 
her household could be if Ellie fit in as a go d girl, willing and 
hardworking and cooperative in every way. But the very nicest thing of all 
she said was that Ellie could call her Dotty, and that she hoped they'd be 
real good friends in a very short time. With no more spankings, unless Ellie 
truly deserved them. 

"It feels so much better now," said Ellie and she gingerly smoothed her palm 
where Dotty's had been working, over taut round flesh that was merely pink 
now, and that felt extra smooth from all the nice cold cream. 

"Nice enough to sit down here?" said Dotty, and patted the bench beside her, 
and moved over. 

Ellie sat down beside her. She felt like she was with her mother again, but 
far closer to this woman than ever she had been with her mother. They 
brushed out their hair and talked and giggled, just like a pair of best 
girlfriends. They put make-up and perfume on, and Ellie felt better and 
better. Then Dotty admired the shape of Ellie's titties, with her hands as 
well as with her words, and Ellie glowed with pride and sat up straighter. 

"Yours are really nice too," she said. "They're nice and big." It was 
Dotty's turn to sit up straighter before the mirror. "So big I have to wear 
a bra all the time. But not now," she said, and turned her back to Ellie. 
"Unhook it, will you? It's so torn it's not doing any good anyway." 

Ellie's hands felt good working at the snap. Dotty had played around with 
other girls when she was growing up, and she'd guiltily enjoyed it, but 
she'd never had such a naive and lovely one as this at her complete 
disposal. And she'd only thought in the past about what she had in mind for 
Ellie on this fine afternoon. 

"Now you can be my bra," she said, and took Ellie's hands and led them 
around till they were cupping her soft, mature tits, with the nipples that 
were not so soft at all. "Feel nice?" she said, grazing her back against 
Ellie's stiff nipples, and shucking the bra down her arms. 

"Oh, yes," said Ellie, and she meant it. "I've never felt anything so soft 
and warm and . . . and just plain nice!" 

"Mmmmmm. You're sweet," said Dotty, and turned to peck a kiss on Ellie's 
sensuous lips from over her soft shoulder. "And now you see why men like to 
play with our titties. They feel good to them, that's all. And of course it 
feels very nice for us, too," she said, and made a graceful turn on the 
bench until she was facing the smiling, wide-eyed girl. 

She easily returned Ellie's hands to her tits, and she placed hers on 
Ellie's. "I love titties. Don't you?" 

"I.. . I never thought of it before now. I guess I do." 

"You have so much to learn. But you're still so very young. When I was 
young-younger than you are now-me and my girlfriend used to play with each 
other's titties, like we're doing now. But way back then we were doing it to 
help make 'em grow. Or at least that's what we told each other," she said 
with a coy little leer. 

"You really did it . . . because it felt nice?" 

"Mm-hmm-m-m-m. Look. Doesn't this feel nice? And look nice too?" she said, 
and she lifted her big tits till their corrugated brown ends were kissing 
Ellie's pink ones, and she smiled into Ellie's blinking eyes as she squirmed 
them together. "Nice?" she said, and she shifted her torso about to let 
their tits kiss of themselves, while with her hands she smoothly described 
the firm contours of Ellie's shapely waist and hips. 

"Real nice," Ellie breathed, feeling ever so funny as she hesitantly 
imitated her new friend. 

"It's all right. You can touch me. All over if you like," Dotty smiled, and 
pressed Ellie's near-virgin hands more warmly against her flesh. "We can 
even kiss," she said, and she parted her lips wide before they left Ellie's 
field of vision and melted most warmly against an opening mouth that was 
just as sensuous as she'd known it would be. 

Ellie was galvanized by the kiss. It was so much softer, sweeter than she'd 
expected. She felt she could go on kissing forever, with her nipples as well 
as her mouth. Her lips tried to cling on as, all too soon Dotty backed away. 
The older woman got up from the bench, big tits swaying in a fascinating 
way, and said, "Come on. We'll be more comfortable on the bed." 

They kissed and kissed there, writhing softly and warmly together. Ellie 
didn't realize how wet her pussy was until Dotty's thigh was against her 
there, working the swollen lips apart and spreading the moisture and the 
growing itch. Everywhere Ellie touched was pure the point of feeling just 
funny, and continuing on beyond that without a thought. 

Then quite abruptly Dotty pushed away from her, shaking her head and 
sighing, and saying, "We better quit, dammit. 

You're getting me hot, as if you didn't know it." 

"Hot? But I didn't mean to. We were just . . . Oh, Dotty, I really didn't 
mean to at all!" said Ellie, hotter than could be herself, and not knowing 
at all what to do about it. 

"You didn't mean to." Dotty mimicked her words. "If you didn't mean to you 
wouldn't have been necking with me like that. And you wouldn't have gotten 
my poor pussy so itchy and wet. Just feel. Feel how wet it is," she said, 
and once again Ellie's hand was taken in hers, this time to touch a very 
secret spot. 

"Dotty, you're just sopped!" said Ellie, feeling further, feeling more, 
quite captivated by the similarities and the subtle differences in this and 
her own wet cunt. 

"Don't tell me you're not," Dotty smirked, and Ellie gasped with shocked 
delight as her dear, dear friend's hand delved between her opening legs for 
her most secret spot. 

But it wasn't so secret at all, not after what all Carl and even Alan had 
done to it. And so Ellie was more than ready to comply when Dotty wrinkled 
her pretty nose and said, "Come on, kid. Let's get up where we can really do 
it to each other. It'll be fun. And I really need it." 

They got up on their knees, facing each other, each of them terrifically 
excited. Wet fingers returned to wetter cunts at once, and under Dotty's 
tutelage Ellie extended her tongue to fence with Dotty's and liberally 
played with her titties with her free hand. 

"You want to cum? You want to cum this way?" Dotty panted between their hot, 
hot kisses. 

"Yes!" said Ellie before she could think. "If you do. Any way at all!" she 
said, though she thought she'd been cumming all the time. 

"Plenty of time to do it this way later. You'll be with us for a while. And 
with my very special vibrator too. Mmmmm, you'll love that. Oh, yes, we'll 
do it any way and every way. But you know the best way of all. And that's 
the way you're going to do it now." 

Ellie winced as Dotty's fantastic fingers left her cunt. Dotty sighed and 
lay back on the rumpled bed. She opened her legs there, splayed her juicy 
cuntlips wider with her fingers, and said, "Come on, Ellie. Now's the time. 
Give me more of your sweet kisses. Give me more of them right here," she 
said, roiling and rubbing her clitty with two fingers, leering and smirking 
and licking her lips at the hesitant girl. 

"I don't know," said Ellie. She was fingering herself now, quite 
unconsciously, but her fingers weren't producing nearly the same results 
Dotty's had. 

"You mean you just don't know how. You know how you do it. You know how to 
suck cunt. Just like you heard me tell Alan to do it to you." 

"You . . . Is that why you had him do it?" she said, wide-eyed, shocked, 
enthralled. "So I'd know how to . . . do it to you?" 

"Don't ask questions, darling. Just do it. Just kiss my cunt-like a good 
little girl." 

Ellie knelt there panting and playing with herself and staring at the big 
cunt that stared back at her. She knew she shouldn't do this. She didn't 
know how she and Dotty had gotten this far, but she still knew the rights 
and wrongs about homosexuality. But that big cunt was very tempting somehow. 
And so were Dotty's words as she lounged back on the bed, big tits lolling 
softly on her chest, fingers working leisurely in that strangely beckoning 
cunt. 

"You . . . you won't tell, will you?" said Ellie, and her hand left her cunt 
as she took a step closer on one knee. 

Dotty shook her head. "Never in a million years. No one. No one at all. 
Come, darling. Don't be foolish. You'll love it. Yes. Yes-s-s-s," she said, 
and the hiss turned to a sigh as her hand curled round Ellie's blonde head 
and pulled her the last few inches to her steaming hot cunt. 

It was awful. The fetid scent of it alone nearly gagged poor Ellie. But all 
she could do was lick and lick and lick quite feverishly and hope somehow 
she could lick the taste away, for Dotty's hand most firmly held her to her 
task. She thought the acrid flavor would never diminish, and perhaps it 
never did. Perhaps Ellie only got used to it, but nevertheless she found the 
slick and swollen tissues of Dotty's cunt more and more palatable, and the 
textures of the tissues very nice indeed. 

"Oh, yes-s-s-s-s," Dotty purred, massaging the nape of the girl's neck now 
rather than holding it captive. "Now you're getting with it, you good little 
girl, even though you are forgetting what I said was the most important 
part." 

Ellie's lips were immediately circling Dotty's big clitty, and her tongue 
was working along with her suction. She liked it a lot right away. Dotty's 
cunt wasn't so strong there, for one thing, and for another and more 
important thing Dotty was so sensitive there. There was lots of texture to 
her clit too, but best of all licking her right there made her do and say 
such crazy sexy things. 

"Oh, honey, honey, honey!" she cried, and pulled her legs up with her hands 
just as far as she could. "That feels so fucking good I could 
SCRE-E-E-E-E-EAM!" Her legs flopped down beside Ellie and Ellie immediately 
pushed them wide apart, hunkering closer, sucking more ardently. She began 
writhing like a snake and thrusting her cunt up and panting, "Gimme that big 
fat fucking orgasm, baby. Make me feel it. All over. Big . . . fat. . . 
OR-gasm!" she said, and now she was thrashing like an alligator. 

Ellie had never seen anyone act like that in her life. Except perhaps for 
herself, when Carl had her on this very bed. It was fascinating to watch her 
that way, and that Ellie was the one who was doing such a good thing for 
her. So she lifted her head and scrambled about on the bed and in less than 
a moment had her knees straddling Dotty's ecstasy-ridden face. She turned 
away from Dotty's waiting cunt before her to say, "Look! This way you could 
do it to me while I do it to you! You could give me an orgasm too! You'll 
just love it!" 

Dotty had almost swooned at the sudden departure of Ellie's mouth from her 
cunt. Then her eyes fluttered open and there was Ellie's cunt, right there 
on top of her. She had no intention of eating cunt. Never had, never would. 
She said, "I . . . what'd you say?" And Ellie excitedly started again. 

Dotty's hands had naturally drifted to Ellie's thighs, then her hips. 
Touching was one thing, sucking cunt quite another. Still it was a pretty 
cunt, as cunts went. A shaft of sunlight through the tree outside accounted 
for that. It turned her fine smooth ass a blushing pink, and it turned her 
curly wet cunt hairs into threads of gold, laden with tiny sparkling 
diamonds. Down the center of the field of gold and diamonds lay the bright 
pink split of her cunt, taut and perfect in every detail, even to the little 
clitoris so anxious to be sucked. Dotty had never seen such human beauty in 
her life, and as Ellie chattered on, she reached out her tongue to touch one 
of the diamonds. 

It was made of Ellie's cunt juice of course. Dotty should have known right 
away. And she should have known she'd like the taste of cunt too. She stuck 
her tongue out and into the bright pink for a deeper taste of it, and lovely 
warm shivers ran from Ellie's fanny through Dotty's hands. 

"Ooooo-o-o-oo, that feels nice," Ellie purred, and shivered and wiggled all 
over. "Do it there a little more before you do it on my clitty and give me 
one of those great, big, fucking orgasms. I don't know if I could stand it 
there right now!" 

Hearing her own words coming back at her, Dotty was momentarily stunned. 
Then she squeezed Ellie's ass and said, "Any way you want it, doll. I'll 
give you that big fat orgasm. And you give me more too." 

Dotty hauled down at the looming beauty and plunged her tongue through the 
pink of it. Who needed a clit to suck on when there was luscious juice to 
taste. She tasted right to the source of it, right to Ellie's little tight 
fuck-hole before Ellie got over that first shock of rapture and returned to 
sucking her clit. She had an awful vision of Carl coming into the room. He'd 
shout, "What the hell?? " and go for his shotgun. Dotty saw that vision for 
only a moment before Ellie's hot lips brought her back to stunning reality. 
Dotty was sucking ravenously on Ellie's hot clit, and she was still tickling 
her tongue around Ellie's hole. She widened the swath of her fully extended 
tongue, farther and farther, and paused in this only to suck Ellie's clit. 
Once again Ellie's amorous efforts were doubled, and she was frenziedly 
licking out Dotty from her clit to her asshole and beyond. All she'd been 
doing before was as child's play compared to this, and it was Dotty who was 
showing her how. Dotty was so thrilled by it that she kept on going for a 
few seconds after she heard the door slam open and Carl shout, "What the 
hell?? " 

She managed to turn and look, though not so easily as Ellie did, and there 
he was at the door. Arms flung out from his sides, eyes bulged out with 
shock, he looked for a moment longer and then turned and clattered down the 
stairs. He's gone to get the shotgun, Dotty thought, to get me for stealing 
his girl. 

Ellie wasn't thinking. Back swayed and blonde hair hung down about her face, 
she gyrated her hips in quick little circles and panted, "I can't stop 
cumming yet. Oh-h-h, he saw us. What'll we do?" 

"We have one more orgasm," said Dotty, and pulled Ellie's cunt and her face 
down against her, and soon forgot about the shotgun pellets soon to rip 
through their glistening hides. 

Carl came rushing back tearing open the box that held his new camera. He 
knelt in the doorway to stuff the film in. It was the sexiest damned thing 
he'd ever seen in his life going on in his bed, and he meant to record it. 
He'd bought camera and film to take some shots of Ellie, to look at when she 
was long gone and he was an old, old man. But now his little darling had 
opened up a whole new sexual world to him, one that would keep him going 
till they were all ancient. He started taking pictures and changing flash 
cubes, working ever closer to the bed. 

Dotty saw the flash but didn't hear the explosion. She saw several more 
pictures before she realized what was happening. Then and only then did she 
shove Ellie aside and shout, "You filthy old man taking pictures! You ought 
to be ashamed! You want to ruin this girl if somebody sees 'em? You want to 
ruin us? Why don't you be a man and just beat your meat instead of taking 
dirty pictures of us?" 

Carl excitedly pointed and heatedly said, "Eat each other some more. Christ, 
this is a helluva thing. Don't you want to see sexy pictures of yourself 
when you're old and gray. Ellie, eat her some more. Let's see you make her 
cum again. That'll make a great lezzie shot." 

"No!" Dotty shouted, and sat up. "You bastard!" she snapped at him, and he 
scowled back and Ellie sat nervously back on her haunches. "You could ruin a 
girl for life with a picture of her going down on an old lady like me." 

"Oh, I don't mind," said Ellie. 

"Shut up! Ellie, you don't even know what's good for you. And as for you," 
she snapped at Carl, "don't call Ellie a damned lezzie!" 

"And he shouldn't have said you were old, too," said Ellie. She reached out 
her hand and touched Dotty, smiled and said, "You're not old and you're not 
a lezzie either. And you're awfully sweet to me." 

Dotty looked her over. Beautiful girl, in every way. She grinned and patted 
her rump, and said, "Lie down, hon. Let him get his damn pictures of me 
being really sweet to you." 

Dotty was truly eating cunt now. It was easier to do from down below, and 
very nearly as thrilling. Three more flashbulbs burst before she really got 
into it and had Ellie going right out of her mind. One more burst before the 
pause that told her Carl was tired of playing with his-new toy. 

Now the sexiest sight in the world was his wife's waggling bottom, snow 
white but split with the deep cleft that had been so thoroughly washed by 
the tongue of their foster daughter. He couldn't resist it. It was even 
sexier than the writhing, cumming foster daughter herself. Carl didn't even 
hear the crashing in the tree branches outside as he fitted his cock in her 
cunt and started fucking her, good and proper. 

Moments later the door burst open and there was Alan, ripping his clothes 
off and shouting, "I WANNA DO IT TOO! YOU SAID I COULD, POP, AND SO DID YOU, 
MOM! I SAW IT ALL FROM THE TREE, JUST LIKE WHEN I WATCH YOU AND MOM DO IT, 
AND I WANT TO DO IT TOO! I GOT TO!! ! " 

"Not around me, you don't," said the panting Carl, and reached back and 
swept his naked son toward the head of the bed. "She's got a perfectly good 
mouth. Use it. But don't bother me, boy, I'm busy!" 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

It was the camera, several weeks later, that kept them together. Henry 
Burnside had randomly picked a hot, midsummer afternoon for his surprise 
inspection of the Dawkins as foster parents. And when he made a surprise 
inspection he believed in keeping it a secret. He approached via a little 
used route, parked his car behind an abandoned barn, and settled down with 
binoculars to see how Ellie was being treated. 

Most foster parents were model parents, but once in a great while he 
encountered those who thought more of the state money than the child, and 
who subsequently treated the foundlings most shabbily indeed. He could 
pretty well determine this through his binoculars and then intervene and 
place the child elsewhere. He used a little checklist on a clipboard to rate 
the family as foster parents, and he was prepared to spend several hours 
secretly observing a foster situation. He was ready to stay longer than this 
in the case of Ellie Olson, for he felt he might have been hasty in placing 
her with the Dawkins family in place of Duck Lie Fong. He settled down with 
his binoculars and his clipboard and lunch in a paper bag and focused in on 
the Dawkins place. 

He frowned as soon as he saw the girl. She was weeding a vegetable patch 
behind the house, wearing work gloves and what looked like a discarded man's 
shirt. It was torn and very frayed, a far cry from the summery little 
pinafore dress that would have rated 100 on his scale of foster home values. 
But she seemed happy enough at her work, and she smiled warmly up when Carl 
Dawkins came toward her from the house. 

She knelt and he stood while they exchanged some words. Henry frowned as he 
saw Mr. Dawkins vulgarly scratch at his genitals right there in front of the 
girl. His jaw dropped wide open though when the smiling Ellie reached up and 
opened his pants for him so that he could urinate right there in the garden! 

But he didn't urinate! He couldn't, because his penis was half erect and 
getting harder even as Henry looked. 

The girl was masturbating him, right there in the garden! She was still 
kneeling, smiling, while he stood there with his thumbs stuck in his belt 
and grinned down at her like a pig. It was the worst thing Henry had seen in 
fourteen years of placement work, and he set the binoculars down and 
scribbled furiously on his clipboard. He looked back at the scene at the 
Dawkins' house, then scribbled some more, for the girl was fellating her 
foster parent! 

He felt compelled to watch, revolted, appalled. Through horrified eyes he 
saw it from start to finish, when the grinning Mr. Dawkins was tucking his 
spent penis back in his jeans and the girl was still kneeling there licking 
her lips. He simply couldn't believe his eyes then when Mr. Dawkins went 
strolling back toward the house and the girl put her gloves back on and 
returned to her weeding. 

It would mean jail for Carl Dawkins and psychotherapy for the poor girl, no 
doubt about that. Henry Burnside indignantly jotted more notes, then 
returned to his field glasses in an effort to see if he could determine if 
Mrs. Dawkins was aware of her husband's gross misconduct and therefore 
liable to incarceration herself. 

Ellie Olson was working again as if nothing had happened. He wondered if 
he'd actually seen it happen or if he needed a vacation. Then the girl's 
head spun around. He saw it happen several times before she got to her feet 
and seemed to address a row of hedges by the house. And then from the hedges 
came young Alan Dawkins, grinning in a vacuous way and sidling closer to 
young Ellie. Ellie seemed to be scolding him, and then as he came closer 
still he picked up a small dirt clod and tossed it at her, and her scolding 
increased. Still grinning, he came right up to her, knelt at her feet, and 
seemed to be apologizing. Then to Mr. Burnside's stunned horror Ellie took a 
step toward the boy's upraised hands, lifted the front of her tattered 
shirt, and the boy began to perform cunnilingus on her. 

"This can't be. It just can't be," said Burnside, alternating between his 
binoculars and his clipboard. He saw and recorded it all, noted that the 
girl had no underpants on beneath the shirt, and that she certainly acted as 
if this wasn't the first time she'd permitted, nay encouraged, such a social 
outrage to be perpetrated. And then to compound the horrid situation, she 
lay right down and allowed him to mount her right there beside the row of 
corn that shielded them from the main road. 

Unbelievable! Then more unbelievable still when Mrs. Dawkins appeared in her 
housedress, only to whip it off over her head and join them! 

She straddled the girl's writhing body and presented her naked loins to her 
son and he kissed her there! INCEST!! ! , Henry scrawled on his pad, and 
returned to the binoculars to see the Dawkins woman and the girl performing 
soixante-neuf, with the Dawkins boy simultaneously engaging in sodomy with 
his own mother! 

Henry Burnside didn't know what to think, whether he'd delivered a 
nymphomaniac to the Dawkin's house or whether they'd brainwashed her into 
such monstrous sex acts. All he knew for sure was that he had to get her out 
of there at once, without benefit of any paperwork. 

Amazement followed on amazement when Ellie greeted him most cheerfully as he 
got out of his car at the Dawkins' house. The shirt she had on was even more 
tattered than he'd thought, and her smile was more brilliant than the field 
glasses had shown. The misguided girl most courteously led him into the 
house, and there he was greeted by the Dawkins' family, Carl shaking his 
hand, Alan grinning in the background, Dorothy offering him lemonade. 
Spluttering in his indignation, Henry curtly told them what he'd seen, and 
the friendly atmosphere had become quite subdued by the time he ordered 
Ellie to get her things and come with him. 

Carl Dawkins sighed and surveyed his little family, nodding to each of them 
and saying, "We don't want Ellie to leave here. And she don't want to go. 
And we sure don't like it when you come here all mad and everything and 
won't even stick around long enough to enjoy our hospitality. Get him!" he 
said, and Dotty and Alan at once had hold of him by his arms. 

Carl directed it all. Dotty held one arm firm in a powerful grip. Alan held 
the other, snarling, "One false move and I'll break it right off!" Ellie 
knelt down and opened his pants, and Carl produced an Instamatic camera. 

Struggle as he might, there was no way to escape from them. And no way to 
escape from Ellie's velvet touch and silken lips. "What a nice one," she 
said, as his penis inexorably grew under her amorous attentions, and by the 
time she had his pants clear down his penis was up as hard as it could be. 
It didn't even go soft when Carl started taking pictures! 

Henry felt dizzy, ill, mortified. Mrs. Dawkins made it all the worse by 
commiserating with him while the girl did her awful thing. The sensations of 
her mouth and hand on his genitals were wholly inescapable, and he wanted to 
sob in his frustration. But he had no one to turn to, no one to lean on 
except Mrs. Dawkins as he saw his career disappear further with every snap 
of the shutter. 

"There, there. Don't screw up your face like that," Mrs. Dawkins said. 
"You're a handsome man, Mr. Burnside, especially when you smile and be 
happy. Let's see a little smile now. Come on. No? What does it take to turn 
up the corners of your mouth? Kisses? Do you like kisses?" she said, and 
then there were two female mouths attending to him in a grossly unfair way, 
and he couldn't help but respond to them. 

He left an hour later, a defeated man, with Carl slapping him on the back 
and saying, "Come back when you can spend more time with us. Come back when 
you can have some dinner with us and then sit around and go through the 
family album. Hey, do you want us to send you some prints? Haw, haw, haw!" 
Yes, Henry Burnside was a defeated man when he left to call it quits for the 
day and go home. 

The camera saved them that time, but it was the pictures that did them in. 

It happened on a day a few weeks later. Dotty and Alan were out catching up 
on their locksmith work and Carl and Ellie were on the bed together, done 
with their chores and looking forward to some uninterrupted fun for just the 
two of them. They were naked and Carl had laid out the vibrator and the 
growing picture album as incentives toward an afternoon of thorough and 
leisurely fucking and sucking. They'd just started through the album when 
the phone rang. Carl answered it. 

When he answered it he said, "God damn it all to hell! Some kid's got 
himself locked up in a commercial meat locker, and I gotta go get him out. 
Why do they pick times like this to do things like that? Sorry, but I've got 
to go, Ellie. When duty calls, the licensed locksmith answers. And it's good 
for a fast fifty bucks. Stay here, keep it hot for me, and I'll be back as 
quick as I can." 

Ellie stayed and browsed through the pictures, rather pleased she had an 
opportunity for some quiet time by herself. The vibrator was there to play 
with and the pictures there to reminisce over and she settled down to spend 
a lazy afternoon by herself. The big silver Cadillac was so quiet when it 
pulled into the driveway that she didn't even hear it, for she was dozing 
off by then anyway. 

A man and a woman got out of the car and started toward the house. His name 
was Ray and she called herself Claudine. They were both dressed very nicely, 
both extraordinarily good-looking, both smiling and self-possessed. 

There was not a sign of life at the house and no one answered Claudine's 
knock at the door. She entered as if she'd been there before, smiling about 
her at seemingly familiar objects, with Ray protectively at her side. She 
called out the Dawkins' given names, with no reply, turned to her companion 
and said, "Come upstairs, dear. I'll show you the family mansion." 

He chuckled and went with her. But he stopped chuckling when he opened a 
door on the second floor. His eyebrows lifted and he said, "What have we 
here, dear?" 

"She's stunning," said Claudine, quietly observing the well turned back of 
the girl sleeping naked on the bed. She entered softly, lifted her eyebrows 
at the pictures in the open album, and said, "And what have we here?" 

Together they went through them, exchanging looks but not words. The girl on 
the bed, the same as the one in the pictures, slept on. 

"She's talented," Ray murmured, when the album was closed. 

"And beautiful," said Claudine, and she laid a hand on the girl's soft 
shoulder. 

Ellie came awake yawning, then scrambled toward the headboard, badly 
startled by the presence of these two strangers. They did not approach her, 
and this more than anything else got her started toward calming down. She 
saw at once they were both what her mother used to refer to as Beautiful 
People, and this helped calm Ellie down too. He was lean, handsome, 
mustachioed, about thirty years of age. She was a little older but no less 
handsome, beautifully attired, and ever warm and smiling. 

"I'm Mary Dawkins, Carl's sister," she explained. "But my friends all call 
me Claudine. And this is my husband Ray. He's my business manager too. And 
who might you be, dear?" 

Ellie introduced herself in faltering tones, bedspread clasped to her bosom, 
while the two unexpected visitors calmly listened. She said she was happy 
there at the Dawkins' house as a foster child and that she'd been accepted 
more warmly than if she'd been their real daughter. Ray and Claudine were so 
very nice that she could have relaxed completely with them if it hadn't been 
for the album of sexy pictures lying right there, fortunately closed now. 

But Claudine opened it, and Ellie pulled the covers over her head in her 
shameful embarrassment. Claudine and Ray gently pulled the covers down, and 
Claudine said, "Don't be embarrassed, Ellie dear. We take pictures like this 
ourselves, and we and our customers all enjoy them." 

"Your . . . your customers?" said Ellie. 

"Yes," said Ray. "We work in Las Vegas. We're in the men's entertainment 
business. I manage Claudine and some other ladies and we provide recreation 
for visiting tourists." 

"Men and women," Claudine added. "And we make very good money at it. Enough 
to buy ourselves nice clothes and cars and still put money away in a savings 
account. You'd like it there. It's so much nicer than living in this old 
house." 

"I've heard of Las Vegas," said Ellie. "It's a real fun place. But they've 
been awfully sweet to me here." 

"It wouldn't be difficult to be sweet to you," said Ray, and he kissed her 
hand, just like a prince would! 

"Indeed not," said Claudine, and her bejeweled hand stealing up Ellie's leg 
was every bit as stirring as Ray's kiss. 

"Come with us," they said, and told her all the reasons why, in detail, and 
Ellie listened with growing interest. Her interest grew with the growing 
bulge in Ray's snugly fitting trousers and with the warm caresses of 
Claudine's hands and smiles. 

"There really isn't anything to keep me here," she said at last, all fidgety 
and restless and feeling ever so good. "At least I could go for a visit. If 
Carl and Dotty say it's okay." 

"Oh, they won't mind," said Claudine. "After all, I am Carl's sister. We'll 
go right now, and we'll leave them a note." 

"And we'll take this album along," said Ray, and tucked it under his arm, 
and together with his wife, helped Ellie out of bed. 

She knew she should say goodbye to the family that had been so nice to her, 
but a seething desire to be off and seeing the world was upon her and she 
just had to go now, before she could change her mind. 

Claudine wrapped her light summer coat around Ellie's shoulders, saying, 
"There's nothing of your clothes worth taking. We'll outfit you along the 
way." 

"Oh, I must take these!" said Ellie, and picked up her nearly worn out work 
gloves, the only new piece of apparel Carl had had time to get her since her 
arrival. 

Claudine smiled and took them from her hand. "You won't be needing these in 
the work you'll be doing with us. Velvet, perhaps, but not canvas gloves." 

Ellie went down the stairs with them. She couldn't think of what to say to 
the Dawkins in a note, so Claudine wrote one: We're taking Ellie and your 
Family Album on vacation. Love, Mary. 

Out into the sunshine they went, and to the glittering new Cadillac. There 
was a discussion there as to who would drive and which of them would sit in 
the back seat and play with Ellie. Ellie settled it by saying, "Both of you 
sit in the front seat, and we'll all play together when we get to the very 
first motel. I've never been to a motel! But now, let's go! On to Las 
Vegas!!!" 


THE END
