The Gradener's Son
by Unknown


FOREWORD 

"D-DADDY! THAT HURTS! OWWWW! DADDY! STOP!" Shelly shrieked tossing her 
blonde hair in a frenzy of agony. 

But the big brawny stud merely grunted savagely and pumped the rest of his 
bulging ten inch pecker deep into his daughter's agonized ass-hole. 

He groaned in pleasure as the exquisitely tight, satiny, furnace-hot orifice 
snapped snugly around the base of his pulsating phallus. Gripping Shelly's 
hips, he began to hump back and forth, fucking her ass with all his might, 
his muscular, hairy thighs slamming against the gorgeous sixteen year old's 
plump buns. 

"Yeah! You're nice and tight up there, slut!" Bertram Sanderson growled as 
he sodomized his daughter on the floor of the sitting room, gritting his 
teeth and grunting as he pounded into her again and again. 

Shelly's senses whirled. She felt the pain beginning to ebb and a new, 
billowing sensation of dark pleasure began to sweep through her throbbing 
bowels each time he rammed into her. She shuddered and pressed back to meet 
his bone-shaking strokes, thrills of delight strumming through her luscious 
nymphet's body. 

"Come on, Tricia!" Sanderson barked, "Get over here and lick this bitch's 
cunt!" 

The big red-haired woman who was Sanderson's mistress darted forward 
dutifully, dropping to the floor and rolling on her back, sliding underneath 
Shelly's body. Shelly gasped in delight as the woman's hot, wriggling tongue 
sluiced up the buttery slit of her cunt. 

And dimly, Shelly remembered that her cousin, Larry, was hiding on the 
veranda, taking pictures of this lewd, incestuous scene.... 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Shelly's chin rested on her hand as she gazed out of the window of her 
dormitory room into the garden below her. 

Shelly was a beautiful girl of sixteen. Her lovely features were already 
famous throughout the land, and her glittery life had a fairy-tale charm 
that appealed to the entire nation. Her father was Bertram Sanderson, one of 
the wealthiest men in the world, an oil tycoon who had built a spectacular 
fortune from a small piece of land he had inherited from a distant relation, 
a piece of land that was discovered to be rich in petroleum. 

Sanderson had gone on to become one of the most famous and successful 
businessmen in the country. He had married Aurora Pendleton of the blue 
blood Boston Pendletons, the closest thing to aristocracy. She was delicate 
and talented. It had been widely speculated that she would become an actress 
or an artist, but her marriage with Sanderson cut any ambitions she may have 
entertained short. 

Sanderson was a firm believer in male supremacy. He kept his wife at home, 
almost as a recluse, and was wildly jealous. She was reputedly very unhappy, 
but was terrified of her husband and was kept almost as a prisoner in his 
home. When she became pregnant, her health failed fast, and she died shortly 
after delivering the unfortunate couple's only child, Shelly. 

The fiercely possessive feelings which Bertram had had for his wife were 
transferred to his daughter as she grew older. Shelly bore a startling 
resemblance to her mother, though many claimed she was even more lovely than 
Aurora Pendleton had been. Long, shimmering tresses of golden blonde hair 
hung to her shoulders like streams of sunlight, framing a delicately hewn 
face with a porcelain complexion. She had enormous, long-lashed blue eyes, 
the color of the sky, and full, coral-pink lips which creased into a 
dazzling smile. Her small perky nose was a mere button in her gorgeous face. 

At sixteen, Shelly already had a womanly figure. Her body was lithe and 
svelte, but blossoming at the bust. Two thrusting, pear-sized breasts lifted 
her blouse and gave her a touch of voluptuousness which blended sexily with 
her girlish charm. Her picture had graced the covers of most of the major 
magazines in the country, and she had received many offers to do 
commercials, films, or modeling assignments. 

Bertram Sanderson had absolutely refused to even consider allowing his 
daughter to peddle her beauty for a living. He kept her in a 
claustrophobically confined existence which made the high-spirited girl 
petulant and irritated and lonely. 

She was sent to the most exclusive boarding school in the country, 
Wigginham's Academy for Girls, in New Hampshire, where she stayed for most 
of the year. The girls were virtually kept under lock and key on the 
sprawling grounds of the Academy, which was surrounded by ten foot walls and 
alarmed gates. Whenever they were allowed to venture into the outside world, 
on excursions and field trips, they were closely watched over by eagle-eyed 
chaperones. 

Shelly was aching for some kind of release from this oppressive existence. 
She was constantly dreaming about boys. In the school, all the students were 
girls, and the only male teacher was the math instructor, Mr. Truckle, who 
was nearly seventy. like most of her school mates, she was starved for 
masculine attention. 

That was why on this particular morning, her blue eyes lit up with sudden 
delight when, flitting across the garden, they fell upon the most glorious 
sight imaginable a handsome young man! 

He was standing beside the old gardener, chatting in a low voice. He was 
tall and well-built, with dark brown hair and a muscular physique. To 
Shelly, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen! 

Just then, he glanced up, and Shelly found herself gazing into the sexiest 
pair of brilliant, cobalt blue eyes she had ever had the pleasure of looking 
into. She couldn't help herself, she just gaped at him like a fool, and he 
stared right back, a look of recognition and a spark of admiration shining 
in his eyes. He smiled at her and nodded genially. She rewarded him with her 
most melting smile, batting her eye lids coyly. 

He was dressed in a tight tee shirt which clung to his muscular torso like a 
second skin. Worn denims fit snugly to his legs and hips, bunching 
impressively at the crotch. 

Shelly felt her virginal cunt begin to tingle and grow hot with excitement. 
Though she had had no opportunity to pop her cherry, she knew all about sex 
from the other girls at school, most of whom were as frustrated as she was. 
In fact, the girls frequently masturbated together, exploring one another's 
juicy twats with their fingers and closing their eyes and dreaming of 
handsome princes as their friends frigged them to a climax.... 

Shelly knew that from now on, when she masturbated there would only be one 
prince living in her fantasies; the handsome stranger who was in the garden 
below her. 

It was the "Quiet Hour" as the dorm mistress called it, and no girl was 
allowed out of her room. Otherwise, the brazen heiress would have darted 
right out and introduced herself to the fellow. 

But, she was forced by convention to wait until noon, when the girls were 
allowed to go about as they pleased before lunch. 

She decided to make herself look as pretty as possible. Shelly stripped off 
the casual clothes she was wearing, and stood, critically perusing her naked 
body in the full-length mirror in the inside of the door of her wardrobe. 
She ran her hands down her sleek, smooth figure, cupping the full, 
translucent orbs of her blossoming breasts, brushing her fingers across the 
lambent, honey-hued triangle of pubic hair that lightly lined her mons 
veneris. 

She shivered as her fingers elicited excited responses deep within her body. 
She began to stroke the palms of her hands in circular motions across her 
rosy nipples, making them throb with lubricious need and turret up like 
rivets. She chewed on her pendulous lower lip and gave a soft moan of 
passion, her cheeks flushed with girlish desire. She simply HAD to find out 
who that young man was! 

The resonant gong finally echoed down the hall of the dormitory, announcing 
the end of the "Quiet Hour," and the sound of a dozen doors flying open and 
the excited chatter of girlish voices filled the air. 

Shelly was one of the first to burst out of her room. She looked radiant, 
dressed entirely in white, except for pink ribbons in her hair. She was 
wearing a frothy white dress with puffy sleeves and an alarmingly plunging 
neckline. The hem of the dress ended slightly above her knees; it was the 
most daring outfit her father had allowed her to have. She wore white socks 
and a pair of pink high-heeled shoes. Her luscious legs were exquisitely 
tapered at the ankle, and were a golden brown from much exposure to the sun. 
On holidays, Shelly usually joined her father on a private island in the 
Caribbean where she spent blissful days and weeks basking in the sun. She 
had just returned from such a holiday, and her flesh was a luscious golden 
brown, while her hair was almost platinum blonde. She looked spectacular. 

Shelly slipped passed Miss Marchmont, who glared at the girl suspiciously 
through her owlish spectacles, pursing her lips and wondering what nonsense 
the Sanderson girl was up to this time! 

The garden was empty, and Shelly felt a flutter of disappointment, her heart 
sinking. She gave a sigh and began to wander aimlessly along the garden 
path, through the brightly colored hedgerows and beds of rhododendrons and 
petunias, oblivious to the natural beauty that surrounded her. 

She should have known that it was too good to be true. He was probably just 
a tradesman delivering something to the gardener and had gone on his way by 
now. Shelly sulkily frowned. How she wished that SHE had that kind of 
freedom! The right to come and go as she chose! Everyone was always telling 
her how lucky she was to be rich and adored, but she certainly wasn't very 
happy with her life. She would have gladly changed places with a normal, 
suburban girl in a normal family, who allowed her to do as she pleased.... 

"Hello there, Miss," a deep masculine voice rang out. 

Shelly lifted her head in surprise and nearly exclaimed aloud in joy. 
Sitting with his back against a solid oak tree was the very young man she 
had been dreaming about. She blushed deeply and smiled at him. 

"Hello," she said timidly. 

He patted the grass beside him. 

"Why don't you sit down beside me for a while and talk? You look awfully 
lonely." 

Her heart thumping, Shelly mutely complied, perching daintily on the grass, 
acutely aware of the young stud's proximity to her. 

"You're Shelly Sanderson, aren't you?" he said, looking at her with his hot 
blue eyes, "I remember seeing your picture in the papers." 

"Well, now you have an advantage over me," Shelly said, "I don't know who 
YOU are!" 

"The name's Rick Crawley. I'm the son of your school gardener, Bob Crawley. 
I just got out of the Navy, so I decided to pay the old man a visit. Now I'm 
glad I did." 

Shelly turned and stared in rapture at the handsome young man beside her. A 
Navy man! How romantic! That accounted for his awfully short brown hair and 
his ruddy complexion, and his muscular body! Her stomach fluttered with 
girlish excitement. 

"How old are you? I'm twenty," he asked, hastening to supply his own age 
first. 

Shelly told him that she was sixteen and he sighed, shaking his head. 

"Baby, you're a knock out!" he murmured. 

Shelly lifted her liquid blue eyes and gazed pleadingly into his face. Rick 
Crawley read the naked invitation in her eyes and bent down, brushing his 
hard, warm mouth against her soft, pliant lips. Shelly's senses swam as the 
masculine guy began to kiss her passionately. He slid a powerful arm around 
her waist and pulled her against him, her thrusting breasts flattening 
against his brawny chest. His wriggling tongue slid between her teeth and 
tussled with her own, swabbing the insides of her mouth and tasting her 
sweet saliva. 

Rick's blood was on fire with lust. As he kissed the beautiful blonde, and 
felt her luscious, girlish body melt against his own, his prick began to 
quiver and unfurl in his trousers like an elephant's trunk. He had just 
gotten off the boat that morning, and had come straight to Wigginham Academy 
to see his father. Hell, he hadn't had his arms around a girl for nearly six 
months! He had been planning to hit the town that evening and pick up some 
whore and fuck the shit out of her all night. But now, something unexpected 
had turned up. He knew he shouldn't be fooling around with any of the girls 
in the school. They were jail bait, for sure, and if he was caught, it would 
also jeopardize his father's job. But the lusty young sailor couldn't help 
it. Shelly Sanderson was even more beautiful and desirable in the flesh than 
she was in the magazines. She was the most attractive thing he'd ever set 
eyes on! 

Shelly's senses were on fire. She was being kissed by a man for the first 
time in her life, and it was wonderful! Only, she wanted more. She shuddered 
as she felt his strong arms crush her to him. She wanted him to touch and 
kiss her all over. She wanted to explore his body with her mouth and 
fingers. She wanted to be fucked by him.... 

A loud clanging of a bell resonated with irritating efficiency through the 
garden as the two young people broke their embrace. 

Shelly gave a shaky sigh and frowned in consternation. 

"That's the lunch bell," she said in sorrow, "I I have to go, or they'll 
ground me for a week." 

"When can I see you, alone?" Rick asked urgently, kissing her on the throat, 
his hands flying over her body, feverishly fondling it through her crumpled 
white dress. 

Shelly's mind worked furiously. She HAD to see him alone, she simply had to! 
But the girls would be closely watched for the rest of the day, until the 
lights went off in the dorm. 

"Where are you staying?" she whispered. 

"With my father, in the gardener's cottage," he replied. 

"Do you remember which one is my room?" she asked, nodding toward the row of 
windows which looked out over the garden. 

"Yes, the third from the left." 

"Lights go out at ten o'clock. Do you think you can climb the trellis and 
get in through my window?" 

"Hell, I'm a sailor, aren't I? We have to know how to do anything! Besides, 
nothing could be too high for me to scale in order to get to you, honey!" 

"All right. Come to my room at ten thirty. But make sure you're not seen!" 

She darted up the path toward the school building after kissing him once 
more on the lips. Rich gazed after her, his heart pounding, the faint 
fragrance of her perfume lingering in his nostrils. His rigid erection 
throbbed painfully against the inside of his trouser leg. 

Shelly was barely able to get through the afternoon classes. She simply 
could not concentrate on geography or German or even English Literature, her 
favorite subject. Her teachers noticed how fidgety she was and she was 
severely reprimanded by several of them. 

Her closest friends, too, noticed how distracted and anxious Shelly was, and 
asked her if she was feeling well. She answered vaguely in the negative, and 
kept to herself. She hardly touched her dinner at all. 

In her room. Shelly was supposed to study for two hours before lights went 
out, and that was the worst time of all. She couldn't concentrate on her 
homework, and spent most of the time pacing restlessly about the room, 
glancing at herself in the mirror, and looking at her watch. 

She changed into her night things, selecting them carefully. She had bought 
a virtually transparent pink negligee which she had never had occasion to 
wear before. Now, she slipped off all her clothes, showered and put on the 
gauzy garment. Beneath it, she wore only a pair of slinky, pink satin 
panties. She quickly slipped on a heavy robe on top of this provocative 
outfit, and not a moment too soon. 

There was a rap on the door and Miss Marchmont's hawk-like face peered in at 
her suspiciously. 

"Lights out, Shelly," she said coldly, her beady eyes whipping across the 
room to check that everything was in order. 

"Good night, Miss Marchmont," Shelly said sweetly, climbing into bed and 
switching out the night. 

The door closed behind the school mistress, and the room was bathed in 
darkness. The window was open and the curtains were drawn back. There was a 
full moon that night, and its cold, pale rays shimmered through the window, 
bathing the bed in light. 

Shelly slipped off her robe and lay on top of the covers, her heart beating, 
waiting for her lover to come.... 

She suddenly heard a creak and rustle on the trellis that covered the wall 
leading up to the dormitory windows. Shelly sat up in bed, her heart racing, 
a flutter of joy rustling through her. 

A head and pair of shoulders appeared suddenly at the window sill, and 
quietly, Rick Crawley eased himself into the room. He stood before her, his 
body and face illuminated by the cool rays of the moon. He was still wearing 
the jeans and tee shirt he had had on that morning, and boy did he look sexy 
to the impressionable adolescent girl. 

Rick stared down at Shelly who was sitting on the edge of the bed. His 
stomach tightened with lust as he saw the negligee which did little to cover 
her lovely, blossoming figure. He watched the way her full, sweet breasts 
rose and fell as she breathed, the pouting nipples puckering against the 
gauzy material of her negligee. 

He dropped to his knees beside her and slid his arms about her waist, 
drawing her against him. His mouth met hers hungrily, and they kissed with 
passionate abandon. She flung her arms around his strong neck and pressed 
her breasts against his chest. Their tongues dueled, their teeth clicked 
together as they kissed fiercely. 

Rick ran his hands beneath the lovely girl's night dress, grazing his 
calloused fingers across the warm, smooth flesh of her sides and belly. His 
hands moved up her body until they cupped around the rising hills of her 
full, resilient tits. Rick groaned in salacious pleasure as he kneaded the 
gorgeous blonde's pliant, bouncy boobs, squeezing until the flesh oozed 
between his fingers. 

Shelly shuddered as he manhandled her, her body awakening with excitement. 
She gave a low sob of pleasure as the palms of his hands grazed across her 
swollen, throbbing nipples, sending tingles of electric excitement rippling 
through her. 

Rick moved back and caught hold of her negligee, gently lifting it off of 
her, drawing it over her head and baring her upper body. He sighed in 
contentment as his hot blue eyes raked over her trembling flesh, drinking in 
the sight of her girlish, budding breasts and the soft pouting hill of her 
tight pink panties. 

He pressed gently on Shelly's shoulders, pushing her on her back on the bed. 
Crouched on his knees beside her, he began to rain kisses on her body, 
planting his lips against her throat and feeling her pulse there, slowly 
moving down to her collarbone, and then up the marshmallow-like hill of her 
left breast. 

His tongue darted out and lashed across the satiny flesh, tasting her sweet 
femininity. He growled in satisfaction as his lips circled around her ripe, 
tender nubbin, sucking at the raspberry-hued rivet of flesh. His tongue 
darted over the pebbly aureola as he slurped at the nipple and gently grazed 
it between his teeth. 

Shelly arched her back and uttered a little sob of pleasure as his warm 
mouth toyed with her aching breast. She ran her fingers through his short 
brown hair, shuddering in delight. 

Rick moved on to the girl's other tit, snapping his finger and thumb about 
the first nipple and strumming it lewdly while he sucked and lapped at its 
twin. 

Then, he moved on down, his tongue wriggling back and forth across her 
flesh, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in its wake. 

He dipped his tongue into the hollow of her navel before scooting down and 
lashing it along the line of the top of her panties. With a low groan, he 
pressed his face against the fragrant undergarment, feeling the heat of her 
loins rush against his lips. Shelly gave a whimper of ecstatic delight, her 
body shuddering uncontrollably. 

Rick hooked his fingers in the elastic of the Sanderson girl's panties and 
slowly tugged them down. He drew them about her ankles and pulled them off. 
His eyes glittered with excitement as he gazed in rapture at the sight of 
her sex. 

A soft, lambent mound rose between her thighs, the puffy, tender lips of her 
vagina clearly visible in the moonlight. Rick groaned as he set eyes on the 
sweet cunt of the gorgeous sixteen year old girl, the first pussy he'd seen 
in ages, and the most succulent. 

He bent down and sniffed it, inhaling the sweet, feminine aroma which rushed 
through his blood like an aphrodisiac. He ran his hands up her legs and 
gently pushed them apart, spreading the tender pink petals of her vulva and 
revealing the glistening peach-like interior of her snatch. 

He bent down farther and brushed his lips lightly across the puckered 
vagina. Then, he thrust out his tongue and licked it up and down the slick, 
palpating slit. Shelly's body jerked in violent passion as the young stud's 
hot tongue sluiced across her pussy, and the teenage nymphet gave a broken 
cry of excitement, a flood of pleasure ricocheting through her with great 
intensity. Her senses reeled beneath the sensation, and she mewled and 
gasped as Rick continued to lick and lave at her honeyed pussy lips. 

He mashed his face luxuriantly into the sweet young pudendum, working his 
wriggling tongue deeply into her chasm and swirling it around lewdly. He 
discovered the glistening button of her girlish clitoris, and he began to 
strum it expertly with the tip of his tongue. 

Again, Shelly gasped as a bolt of sheer pleasure cut through her. She bit 
her lower lip to keep from shrieking in ecstasy and bringing the house 
mothers swooping down upon them. She couldn't believe the feelings that were 
consuming her loins like liquid fire. 

Rick lifted his face from between her legs, his smoldering cobalt blue eyes 
staring up at her hotly. His face and chin glistened with her sweet, 
unctuous fluids. 

He grinned at her lasciviously, and crawled up on the bed beside her, 
drawing her nude, trembling body against his brawny, clothed physique, 
kissing her hungrily. 

Shelly's hands stroked up and down his broad back, and she whispered hotly 
in his ear, "Take off your shirt, Rick." 

He sat up and tugged his shirt over his head, flinging it to the floor, and 
lay back beside her. Then it was Shelly's turn to explore. She rolled half 
way on top of the strapping youth and gazed down at him with liquid blue 
eyes, her pretty features flushed with excitement. 

Her eyes traveled over his muscular, hairless chest, admiring the way his 
muscles rippled beneath the surface of his taut, smooth flesh. She ran her 
hands over his torso, cooing in delight, and then bent down, pressing her 
lips to his chest. Her long blonde hair spilled across his shoulders as she 
began to kiss him gently, her lips feathering across his skin softly. 

Her tongue shot out and began to lick and stroke his flesh. She moved up the 
hard ridge of one of his pecs, closing her full, rosy lips around his small 
brown pap, sucking the hard nubbin of flesh urgently. Rick groaned in 
pleasure as he felt her soft, fluttering mouth and tongue caress his 
sensitized body. His heart was beating violently and lust knotted in his 
belly like a fistful of white hot coals. 

Shelly moved on to his other pectoral muscle and then slid her face wantonly 
up one of his fanning lats, nuzzling her lips into the deep hot arm pit. Her 
tongue tangled with the hairs there, and she tasted the salty, musky flavor 
of his sweat. The heady odor made her tremble with voluptuous excitement. 
Her heart was skipping rapidly. She could hardly wait to see all of him.... 

She scrambled down, her lips feathering across the rippling, washboard 
firmness of his stomach, and then she found herself gazing hotly at his 
bulging basket, throbbing impatiently against his tight jeans. With 
trembling fingers, she reached for his fly and unbuttoned it. She caught 
hold of his cold zipper and slowly pulled it down. The loud rasping sound 
cut through her buttery loins like a red hot knife. She was shuddering 
uncontrollably. 

Rick lifted his hips to accommodate her as she slowly dragged his trousers 
down about his knees. He was wearing a soiled jock strap underneath, but his 
raging hard on had lifted the elastic away from his belly and several inches 
of the enormously thick and long sex organ protruded into the air. 

Shelly's eyes widened and she gasped aloud in surprise, admiration and some 
trepidation at her first sight of an erect penis. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

She stared at several inches of his prick which had escaped from the garment 
and throbbed with manly lust. 

She whimpered with excitement, her shaky fingers clutching at the jock and 
sliding it down about Rick's knees. She greedily drank in the sight of his 
rigid pecker, which sprung into the air at a forty-five degree angle, a 
droplet of pre-come on the glans shimmering in the moonlight. Her eyes 
darted down to the pair of large, egg-shaped balls that hung beneath the 
gristled column of his phallus. 

Her mouth was watering with desire. With awe and a little fear, she reached 
forward and closed her fingers around the base of the gardener's son's 
prick. She shivered in delight as she experimentally squeezed it, feeling 
the silky texture of hot flesh stretched over the rigid, steely cock. It 
pulsated in her hand mightily, and she feathered her cuticles across the 
veins that latticed the" corrugated sides. 

She bent down, blowing hot hair on the puckered, mushroom-shaped corona. She 
pursed her lips and gently kissed the tip of the cock, the pearl of liquid 
that wobbled there smearing across her mouth. She experimentally licked her 
lips, tasting the salty flavor, and then forked out her tongue greedily, 
swishing it across the pulpy, smooth surface of his prick's cap. 

Rick arched his back and groaned in pleasure, his senses reeling in delight. 
The delicate, feathery touch of her tongue and mouth and fingers on his 
lust-heated body sent a thrill through his loins, kindled his libidinous 
fires. He reached down and ran his strong hands through the silky tresses of 
her hair, murmuring indistinguishable words of encouragement as her mouth 
began to graze up and down the length of his tumescent truncheon. 

Shelly affixed her lips to the bulging side of the big prick and sucked at 
it hungrily, flicking her tongue back and forth across it as she moved her 
head up and down. She pressed her face against his musky pubic bush, 
inhaling the pungent aroma of his sex, shuddering with erotic delight. She 
sluiced out her tongue, drawing it across the pulsating base of his pecker, 
painting it with warm saliva. 

Her hands ran up the insides of his powerful legs and she cupped and lifted 
his heavy scumbag in wonder, gently squeezing his bloated gonads, scraping 
her thumb nail across the wrinkly, hairy sac. She slid further down and blew 
hot air on her lover's balls. She felt him groan and shudder in delight, and 
poked out her-pink tongue, licking his nuts lewdly, tasting the sweaty 
flavor of his masculinity and loving it. She plunged her tongue beneath his 
tightening scrotum, working it lasciviously back and forth. 

Rick groaned aloud, his body alive with lust. He sat up and reaching down, 
caught Shelly beneath the arms and gently lifted her up on top of him. He 
stroked the hair out of her eyes and cupped her small, oval face in his big 
hands, softly kissing her face and lips. 

He rolled her over onto her back and eased his rangy, muscular body on top 
of hers. Shelly quivered in delight as his muscular physique bore down on 
her tender, soft figure. His rigid, saliva-slickened phallus was sandwiched 
between their bellies, and as Rick began to stir on top of her, kissing 
Shelly hungrily as his hands traveled over her body, his prick sawed back 
and forth along her stomach. 

Rick whispered softly into her ear, "Are you a virgin?" 

"Y-yes," she stammered weakly, sliding her arms around his broad back and 
shivering. 

"Don't be afraid," he said huskily, "I won't hurt you." 

She trusted him, a wave of love rippling through her. She felt his strength 
flowing into her body, making her feel fragile and feminine, like a flower 
quiescently opening for a bee. She wanted him to ravage her, to teach her 
the mysteries of sexual intercourse. 

Rick felt her relax beneath him, and knew that it was time for him to begin 
the seduction. He slid his hands slowly down her sides, easing himself off 
of her. He cupped her honeyed muff in his hand, running the tip of his 
finger along the moist slit. He pressed the finger forward, and it slid 
easily between the slick folds of flesh, burrowing into the hot, narrow 
chute of her vagina. Shelly shuddered as his touch ignited her inner fires, 
her heart racing wildly. She gave a little sob of ecstasy as he slowly 
inserted a second finger inside of her, carefully moving them in and out, 
oscillating his hand and caressing the slick, tender sides of her pussy. 

He bent close to her ear and whispered huskily, "Oh, baby, you're so hot and 
tight up there! So nice!" 

He frigged his fingers back and forth, and from the way she was responding, 
he could tell she was loving it. There was no pain. He pressed his hand 
harder against her pussy, sinking his fingers all the way inside of her 
sweet, honeyed cunt. Still, she did not cry out in pain and he did not come 
into contact with her hymenal barrier. He grinned, sighing in relief. It 
would be an easy fuck, not a painful initiation. 

Shelly was one of those lucky girls who have been athletic and active since 
they were very young. She was a swimmer and a horseback rider, and had 
scrambled up and down trees on her father's estate since she was a child. 
Somewhere along the line, all of this activity had naturally broken her 
hymen for her, rendering her first experience a much more pleasant one than 
it might have otherwise been. 

Rick drew his fingers out of her cunt with a moist sucking sound, and 
carefully lifted himself above her. He planted one hand on the bed beside 
her head, gripping the base of his rock-hard, throbbing organ in the other 
and guiding it between her legs. 

"Lift your knees honey," he said hoarsely. 

Shelly gave a soft whimper, raising her knees and spreading them, opening 
her throbbing, virginal cuntal lips. 

Rick lowered his pelvis upon her, his ass cheeks tensing. He felt the 
bloated, pulpy knob of his pecker bump against her petal-soft vulva. Leaning 
against her, his rigid joint pressed between the tender folds of flesh and 
lodged suddenly in the hot, tight maw to her sweet, honeyed recesses. 

Rick grunted in satisfaction, swiveling his hips lewdly and savoring the 
sensation of her hot sucking orifice tugging urgently at the tip of his sex 
tool. 

Then, he planted both hands on the bed, and began to slowly pump his hips 
back and forth. Shelly's eyes snapped open and she gave a strangled gasp as 
the enormous head of his cock slowly penetrated her aching, furnace-hot 
chute. Stabs of pain raged angrily through her loins, but she bravely bit 
her lower lip to keep from screaming and dug her fingers into the sheets. 

"Relax, honey, just relax," Rick whispered, a trifle unsteadily as he felt 
the hot, slippery mouth of her vagina snap tightly about his cock head. 

He had to force himself not to batter her wide open with one savage shove. 
He was trembling violently with lust as he continued to rock gently back and 
forth, humping against her agonized pussy with his horse-sized member. 

Finally, if slid several inches inside of her, and he felt her relax a 
little. The clinging, impossibly tight furrow clamped wetly about the top of 
his pecker like a perfectly fitting sheath. Hell, it felt great! He moaned 
in satisfaction, gyrating his hips and savoring the sensation. 

Then, he pumped a bit faster, with a little more force. Shelly whimpered in 
pain as the huge log of flesh and gristle jammed its way deeper and deeper 
inside of her. It felt as though he were forcing his arm inside of her! But 
the excruciating pain had given way to a dull ache. And suddenly, as another 
inch of thick, hot stiffness burrowed into her virginal chasm, another 
sensation began to ripple through her violated loins. A billowing gust of 
pleasure began to accompany his thrusts, building in intensity each time his 
big boner chafed the sensitized sides of her throbbing pussy, and each time 
he slid deeper into her channel. 

With a groan, Rick sank upon her, his entire prick imbedding itself deeply 
in Shelly's widely stretched pussy, the knobby tip battering against her 
cervix. Shelly gasped, her heart beating violently, her vision cloudy with 
conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure, fear and extraordinary 
happiness. 

Rick nestled on top of her, his hard, firm belly resting against hers, his 
muscular thighs pressed against her moist, creamy ones. Then, he began to 
move. He drew back, letting the long, thick pole of flesh and gristle slide 
half way out of her, and pumped forward lustily, driving it to the hilt 
inside of her. 

This time, Shelly could not quite stifle the shrill exclamation of passion 
that flew from her lips. As his big phallus sluiced in and out of her 
rhythmically, her cuntal passage seemed to ignite with intense libidinal 
fires that raged through her body, consuming her with pleasure unlike any 
she had experienced before. 

Rick felt her respond and grunted in pleasure. Now he could enjoy himself 
without fear of hurting her. He began to hump into her lustily. His belly 
slapped against hers rhythmically, his big balls whipping against her 
buttocks each time he slammed his hips against hers, fucking her with gusto. 
Hell, that felt good! The lusty sailor was in seventh heaven. 

Plugging this sweet blonde virgin was absolutely the most exciting thing 
he'd done in ages! 

He slid his hands between their bodies and cupped her breasts in them, 
squeezing and kneading her jiggling titties as he hammered his cock in and 
out of Shelly's sweet, sucking twat. 

"Oooh! Ooooh! R-Rick! Y-Yes!" Shelly gasped feverishly in his ear, trying to 
keep from screaming in pleasure. 

Each time he plunged into her, practically knocking her breath out, her cunt 
exploded with intense, rippling delight which flowed through her body like 
liquid fire. She sobbed in joy, running her hands down his broad back, 
clenching desperately to the hard, sweaty buns of his ass cheeks and tugging 
at them. She began to pump her hips vibrantly back and forth, impaling 
herself again and again on his barbed lance. 

"Awwww, baby! You're so sweet and hot!" Rick groaned huskily, oscillating 
his pelvis and churning her insides to butter with his big joint. 

He began to redouble his efforts, plunging into her with abandon, his 
throbbing spear sliding moistly in and out of her tight, glove-like orifice 
like a piston. 

Shelly saw lights before her eyes as her senses suddenly grew hot and 
feverish. Something strange was happening deep within her womb. Something 
was collecting, some explosive fire. A strange urgency consumed her. She dug 
her nails into Rick's sweaty back and clawed at him fiercely, undulating her 
hips frantically. She hooked her legs instinctively around his back, locking 
her feet together, and gasped and mewled like a bitch in heat. 

"F-Fuck me, Rick, oh, YES, fuck me!" she moaned feverishly. 

"Yeah, baby, YEAH!" he grunted hoarsely, pounding into her hard. 

The collecting tendrils of heat in Shelly's loins suddenly began to explode. 
An extraordinary ripple of pure carnal ecstasy ripped through her body. She 
couldn't help herself, she gave a broken scream of pleasure. 

"OOOOH! OOOOH! I I'M CUMMING!" she cried, sobbing aloud. 

Rick quickly covered her mouth with his own, smothering her cries in a 
hungry kiss as he continued to fuck her hard. 

He grunted in satisfaction as he felt her pussy convulse around his pounding 
rod. Her sweet, hot juices began to gush around his thrusting horse dick, 
setting him on fire with lust. 

He gasped and-grunted, plowing into her with animalistic intensity, his 
balls tightening as he felt his own impending orgasm. Gritting his teeth, he 
pulled his mouth away from Shelly's and threw back his head, giving a 
strangled bellow of culmination as he heaved his sweating body against hers 
hard, pinning Shelly's trembling, sobbing form to the bed. 

He shuddered as he held his gargantuan sex tool deep inside of the lovely 
blonde girl's clutching, heated vaginal furrow. Shelly quivered in rapture 
as she felt his pecker expand inside of her. Then, her womb was blasted with 
jet after steaming jet of thick, hot jism, fountaining with hose-like 
intensity from the hunky young sailor's horny cock. He groaned in 
satisfaction, emptying a heavy load deep inside of her. 

Then, with a grunt of exhaustion, he flopped down upon her, his big sweaty 
body heaving as he gasped for breath. The rich, pungent scent of 
perspiration and sex wafted through the room. Shelly gave a shaky sigh and 
drew her arms around Rick's body, hugging him against her tightly. She had 
never felt so completely fulfilled in all of her life. 

The two young lovers lay in each other's arms for a long while, murmuring in 
soft voices, frequently kissing and touching one another. It was an idyllic 
night for Shelly Sanderson, a night of' liberation and love. Her horizons 
had been expanded beyond her belief, and a whole new world was opening 
before her. 

She had found a young man who fitted her dream image of a Prince Charming, 
and like Shakespeare's Miranda, the handsome youth who had stumbled into her 
lonely island was made even more appealing by the fact that Shelly had been 
so secluded from men in her life. 

The first rays of dawn were stealing through the trees and trickling across 
the foot of the bed when Rick reluctantly decided that it was time to go. He 
dressed quickly, and stooped to kiss the lovely blonde who had given him her 
virginity. 

"When can I see you again?" he said huskily. 

"Tonight,' Shelly breathed, stroking his cheek with her hand. And then he 
was gone. 

Miss Marchmont was worried about Shelly Sanderson. Part of the reputation of 
Wigginham Academy for Girls lay in the fact that they were kept in excellent 
health, with a doctor readily at hand to detect and take care of any illness 
that might arise. 

The prim head mistress had noticed how distracted and peculiar the famous 
heiress was behaving, and at the end of the second day after Rick Crawley's 
initial clandestine visit to 

Shelly's dormitory room, Miss Marchmont received several complaints from 
teachers about the girl. 

"She simply does not pay attention in class," Mrs. White, the social studies 
instructor said crossly, "She just stares out the window and sighs." 

This was not like Shelly at all. Shelly was not a model student. She had had 
run ins with Miss Marchmont before, but her behavior was generally lively 
and saucy, and her reprimands had usually been for talking too much in 
class, or for sassing the teachers. Her drastically altered behavior 
suggested that something was wrong. 

Miss Marchmont was a shrewd woman. She had taken scores of girls under her 
wing over the past thirty years, and she knew how to read their behavior 
like a book. Shelly was either sick, or in love, which amounted to the same 
thing. In either case, the situation was alarming. Bertram Sanderson had 
impressed upon Miss Marchmont in no uncertain terms the necessity of 
shielding his daughter from the "outside world." And in particular, from 
boys. Even a breath of scandal would mean that Shelly would be whisked 
without further ado from the Academy. And Miss Marchmont knew that if a man 
as influential as Mr. Sanderson took his child out of her institution a 
dozen other families would follow suit. 

The following morning, Shelly was summoned to the office of the head 
mistress after her first class. 

Shelly entered the office cautiously, her heart beating. She was afraid that 
the shrewd woman had detected her wonderful secret. Shelly was a clever 
girl, one of the cleverest Miss Marchmont had ever come across. The two of 
them admired each other, but cautiously, knowing the danger each posed for 
the other. 

"What is the matter with you, Shelly?" Miss Marchmont asked immediately. 

"Nothing, ma'am," Shelly replied. 

"I think there is. I have had numerous reports that you are behaving in a 
most unusual manner. You have been listless and quiet and tired-looking." 

"Perhaps I am growing out of my stage of girlish unruliness," Shelly said, 
her blue eyes twinkling maliciously. 

"Perhaps," Miss Marchmont said, narrowing her eyes behind her owlish 
spectacles, "In any case, I am sending you to Dr. Mabtuse for an examination 
immediately." 

Shelly felt a surge of relief. It appeared that Miss Marchmont felt her 
ailment was a physical one. Shelly had believed at first that the woman had 
known of her secret trysts, and was trying to worm the information out of 
her before confronting her with it. Apparently, this was not the case. 

So she dutifully went to Dr. Mabtuse who gave her a thorough examination, 
and went dreamily on her way to the rest of the classes scheduled for the 
day, her mind full of thoughts of Rick, and of the hours that must pass 
before he came to her bedroom again, that evening.... 

Miss Marchmont's eyes batted rapidly from behind her spectacles, and her 
face blanched white. She had difficulty controlling herself from trembling. 

"What did you say, Dr. Mabtuse?" she said dryly. 

"I said, madam, the girl is not a virgin." 

Miss Marchmont took a deep breath and said shortly, "When was the last time 
you examined her?" 

"Directly after the girls came back from vacation, of course." 

"And ... ? " 

"And she has apparently lost her virginity in the interim." 

"Then there is no question that this ... this event took place on these 
premises?" 

"That I cannot say. Perhaps she has found a way to slip away. In any case, I 
would estimate that the 'event,' as you call it, has occurred quite 
recently. "Thank you, Doctor." 

Miss Emily Marchmont was quivering with rage. The filthy little slut! For 
thirty years she had kept the Academy's reputation spotless. Three times, 
girls had managed to have crushes on boys, but on all three occasions, all 
that had occurred was some harmless petting and an exchange of passionate 
love notes. Nothing of this kind had ever occurred before! 

The head mistress's mind worked quickly. But how on earth had it happened? 
There were simply no men around. Except for old Mr. Truckle and Dr. Mabtuse. 
And the gardener, Crawley, who was nearly seventy. Suddenly, a rush of 
realization came over her. Wait a minute! The gardener! She remembered him 
coming to her a few days earlier asking permission for his son, just out of 
the Navy, to stay with him for a week or so. 

Crawley had been at Wigginham Academy longer than Miss Marchmont had. He had 
married and brought his wife to the gardener's cottage on the edge of the 
estate. He had raised his two sons .there, until his wife died, and then he 
had sent them to be raised by a spinster sister. She trusted him implicitly, 
and that was why she had granted his request without much consideration. How 
wrong she had been to let down her guard! She reached for her intercom 
button. 

"Mildred? Ask Crawley to come to my office. At once." 

Shelly was emerging from her art class when someone tapped her on the 
shoulder. 

It was Jenny Hopkins, a pretty black girl who worked in the kitchen. Jenny 
silently slipped a folded piece of paper in Shelly's band, after glancing 
about to make sure they weren't being watched. 

"Miss Sanderson," she whispered secretively, "The young man, Crawley's son, 
gave me this for you. I'm supposed to wait for a reply." 

Her heart beating violently, Shelly turned into a doorway and unfolded the 
note with trembling fingers. She scanned it rapidly. 

It read: "My darling Shelly, Miss Marchmont has found us out. I have been 
ordered to leave the premises without any further ado. I am afraid that my 
father shall lose his position if I do not obey. But, sweetest, I love you 
with all my heart. It will be the most difficult thing I have ever done. 

"Miss Marchmont is right, perhaps. Maybe you ARE too young yet to think of a 
serious romance. But though I can write this, I can't believe it until you 
tell me so. Tell me to go, darling, and I will never bother you again. 

"Love, Rick." 

Shelly gasped, feeling dizzy. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then she 
began to think furiously. Biting her lip, she grabbed up a pen. Tearing a 
piece of paper from a note book, she rapidly scribbled across it the 
following note: 

"Dearest Rick, I cannot live without you. If you must go, I will go with 
you. Come to my room tonight, and we will run away together. I have a good 
deal of money, which will last us for a while. Don't let me down. I love 
you. 

"Shelly." 

She slipped the note into Jenny's hand. The other girl smiled at her and 
said softly, "You're a lucky girl, Shelly. He's a mighty fine looking young 
man." 

After her last class, Shelly went straight to her room. She pulled out a 
valise from her closet, and began to pack some bare essentials. She stuffed 
in several changes in clothes, some books and personal belongings, toilet 
articles, a cache of three hundred dollars and a check book. She was ready 
to go. 

Her head swirled with excitement. Her life was only just beginning! To get 
away from Wigginham, and from her father's oppressive clutches; what a 
wonderful prospect! And the idea of sharing her life with Rick Crawley; what 
bliss! 

It was time for lights out, and Miss 

Marchmont stopped by Shelly's room. Shelly acted her part well. She 
pretended to be studying a geography text when she heard the school 
mistress's foot step outside the door. 

"Lights out, Shelly," Miss Marchmont said, her eyes rapidly darting around 
the room. 

Shelly had hidden the valise beneath the bed. 

"And Shelly, I want to see you in my office the first thing in the morning. 
Is that clear?" 

Shelly feigned surprise and said sweetly, "Why, of course, ma'am!" 

The prim woman shut the door, and Shelly switched out the lights. 

At ten fifteen, Shelly heard a rustling outside her window, and then, Rick 
had vaulted inside and taken her into his arms in a passionate kiss. 

He looked at her earnestly and, asked in a soft voice, "Are you sure you 
want to do this, Shelly? You aren't acting on impulse?" 

"Of course I'm acting on impulse!" she said fervently, "The very best 
impulse I've ever had!" 

A few minutes later, a valise dropped with a soft thud in the earth directly 
below the dormitory windows. Then, a male figure scrambled down the trellis, 
followed by that of a girl, who had no difficulty making the climb. Hand in 
hand, the two young people darted through the garden toward the gardener's 
cottage. 

Behind the cottage was a portion of the formidable wall which was encrusted 
in vines. As a boy, Rick had discovered that behind the vines, a portion of 
the wall had crumbled away, forming a natural tunnel. The eloping couple 
crawled through the tunnel, and emerged on the other side. Hand in hand, 
they dashed away from Wigginham Academy, into the wide, unknown world. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Bertram Sanderson's office was located on the second floor of his palatial 
estate in Bogenville. A huge mahogany desk dominated the room, as well as a 
large book case that covered one wall. Some of the shelves of books were 
fake, and slid aside to reveal a liquor cabinet and a safe. 

A large, comfortable looking sofa was positioned in one corner of the room. 
A framed and signed photograph of the President hung above the desk, while 
on it in silver frames were snapshots of his late wife, and of his darling 
daughter. 

Bertram was standing up now, leaning on his desk and talking into the phone 
in his garrulous voice. He was an active man who didn't like to be cooped up 
in the office, but he generally had to confine himself to his business deals 
several mornings a week. He had learned not to trust even his closest 
associates with the most important of his business transactions. 

He was wearing a short sleeved shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He had put on 
a tie, but had since impatiently torn it off. His dark slacks clung to his 
long, powerful legs neatly, but he looked like he belonged in the outfit of 
a lumberjack. 

Bertram was thirty-eight, and was a brawny, powerfully built man in the 
prime of his life. He stood six feet two and weighed two hundred and twenty 
pounds of solid muscle. His burly chest filled out his shirt impressively, 
and his biceps bulged as he moved his arms to lift or touch an object on his 
desk. 

He had very short reddish brown hair and cool green eyes. His features were 
ruggedly handsome, though not perfect. He had been a star quarterback on his 
Ivy League College's football team, and had always been a vigorous and 
athletic man. 

He had his own gym on his estate, equipped with Nautilus equipment and 
weights, as well as tennis courts, a swimming pool, and a sauna. And Bertram 
was not one of those rich people who acquired these things as a matter of 
posterity and then rarely used them. He worked out every day for hours. He 
also had a stable of thoroughbred horses and went riding several times a 
week. His physique was that of a man ten years his junior and in excellent 
condition. 

The intercom on his desk buzzed, and he pressed it down. 

"Yes?" he barked, putting his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone he was 
talking on. 

"A Miss Mowler is here to see you, sir. About the secretarial position?" 

Bertram grinned to himself, his green eyes sparkling with sudden feeling. 

"Send her right in," he said. 

The world famous businessman then said into the phone, "Hello, Nelson? Can I 
get back to you? Thanks a lot. Give my regards to Happy." 

He hung up as his assistant opened the door, ushering in a very pretty young 
lady. 

"Good morning," Bertram said, extending his big hammy hand and wringing her 
little one in his fingers. He made no bones about looking her over with 
lascivious admiration. 

Bertram was a man with huge appetites. One of these was for women. He didn't 
want to marry again, but he liked female flesh too much to abstain from 
sampling it. And he liked to sample fresh pieces of ass whenever possible. 

The constant flow of "secretaries" in and out of his employ were a testament 
to his need for novelty and change. 

He procured his girls through a special agency which catered to the tastes 
of very wealthy businessmen with very particular desires. He paid handsomely 
for the service, but it was worth it. 

"Good morning, sir," Miss Mowler said sweetly, "My name's Patricia Mowler, 
but you can call me Tricia." 

Tricia was a very sexy lady. She was tall and voluptuously curvaceous, in 
her mid-twenties and a redhead, with flaming tresses that spilled in waves 
about her shoulders, her shoulders. Her eyes were a liquid brown, large and 
doe-like, shaded by long sexy lashes. She had a lovely, chiseled face, with 
a complexion of peaches and cream. Her small aquiline nose was positioned 
above a sensuous mouth with full, crimson lips. 

Her figure was stunning. Bertram liked zoftig ladies, and Tricia was 
certainly a lady with a full figure. Her enormous bosoms thrust out in front 
of her like cantaloupes, threatening to spill out of the skin tight sequined 
dress she had on, a dress that was so short that when she sat down, her 
panties were clearly visible. 

She wore black net stockings on her lithe, shapely legs, and a pair of red, 
spiked heeled shoes. 

Bertram felt his cock begin to stir and expand in his trousers and he 
motioned for Tricia to sit down. He pressed the buzzer of his intercom and 
said into it, "Barney, hold all calls until I let you know I'm free." 

Then, he folded his arms and leaned against the desk, his eyes raking over 
Miss Mowler's gorgeous body. The "secretary" was sitting in an easy chair, 
batting her long lashes at him coquettishly, her legs crossed. 

"Would you like me to take dictation, Mr. Sanderson? I type seventy words a 
minute and take shorthand, too." 

"Cut the bull shit, baby. There's only one thing I want you for, and you 
know what that is. Give me a show, slut. I want you to strip for me." 

Tricia simpered, pretending to sulk, and said in a silky voice, "Well, 
you're really a guy who gets right to the point, aren't you? Have you got 
any music?" 

Bertram grinned and crossed over to the bookcase. Sliding a panel aside, he 
displayed a phonograph. He put on a record, and the Andrews Sisters began 
warbling "Bei Mir Bistu Schoen." 

Then he strode over to the couch and sat down. 

"Strut your stuff, baby," he said. 

Tricia got up and began weaving and shaking her voluptuous figure in front 
of him, pursing her lips and running her hands up and down the front of her 
body. She cupped her big tits and lifted them high, rubbing them together. 
Bertram could almost see the throbbing nipples through her tight dress. 

Tricia slid her hands behind her back and began to slowly unzip the dress. 
She coquettishly slipped each strap off of her shoulders, and then, shimmied 
out of the garment like a snake shedding its skin. 

Bertram's eyes glittered with lust as he regarded her semi-nude figure. She 
was wearing a gauzy black brassiere which was virtually transparent. Her 
dark, round nipples pressed urgently against the material, and her big, 
pendulous breasts jiggled and bounced as she gyrated and twisted in a lewd 
dance in front of him. 

A pair of very skimpy black panties covered her ample thighs and full, 
pouting pussy. He wondered if the agency had provided him with the type of 
girl he was really attracted to one who shaved her pussy. 

He liked them soft and peach-like and smooth, like exotic tropical fruit. 
Bertram licked his lips with lascivious interest as he ogled Tricia's buxom, 
curvaceous figure wriggling in front of him. 

Her hands went behind her back again and unsnapped her brassiere. The strip 
of cloth fluttered to her feet, and her huge, translucent orbs of bobbling 
flesh bounced free. The throbbing, silver dollar sized nipples were almost 
crimson. Hell, they made Bertram's mouth water! 

"Nice boobs, baby!" he growled appreciatively, lewdly manipulating his 
aching pecker through the material of his pants, "Now get rid of those 
panties!" 

Tricia pouted her lips at him and hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her 
undies and began to wiggle out of them. She coquettishly bent down so that 
her huge swinging boobs blocked the sight of her crotch as she drew her 
panties down about her ankles and kicked them off. 

Then, she stood up and began to roll her ample, succulent figure lewdly back 
and forth, showing him everything she had. Bertram growled in delight as his 
eyes raked over her body, drinking in the sight of her pink, pouting mons 
veneris, devoid of hair, a soft hill of sweet, juicy flesh with full, 
delicate petals and a deep slit. He felt his libidinous juices growing 
hotter and hotter, and his cock tented the front of his trousers obscenely. 

"Spread your legs, baby," he said hoarsely, licking his dry lips, "Let me 
see what you've got!" 

Tricia lifted up her hefty boobs, mashing them together and mewling with 
feigned ecstasy, and spread her legs apart, hunching her ass lewdly back and 
forth. As her cuntal lips folded back, Bertram saw her glistening pink 
jewels and the little pink button of her sweet, oily clitoris. Shit, he was 
horny! 

There was a rasping sound as he unzipped his trousers. Lifting his ass 
slightly, he yanked his pants down about his knees and began to unbutton his 
shirt. 

"Get yourself over here baby, and suck on my pecker for a while," he ordered 
crudely. 

He tossed his shirt off and sat on the edge of the couch, naked, with his 
legs spread wide apart. 

Tricia cooed as her big brown eyes swept over her employet's brawny, 
athletic body. She gazed in admiration at his barrel-like chest, covered 
thickly with ringlets of reddish brown hair, which traveled down the flat 
plane of his belly and mingled with the thick mane that surrounded the base 
of his prodigious penis. 

Bertram Sanderson was hung like a horse. Tricia's eyes widened when they lit 
upon the thick, pulsating column of flesh and gristle that arose from 
between his hairy thighs. Fully erect, it was a good ten inches long and so 
thick around that when he put his fingers around it, they couldn't quite 
meet. And Bertram had big hands. 

It was one of the heftiest tools Tricia had ever set eyes on, and if Tricia 
had to list all of the cocks she'd ever seen, she would have filled several 
notebooks. 

"Oh, my! Mr. Sanderson, you ARE a big fellow!" she cooed, swishing over to 
the couch and dropping to her knees in front of him. 

She placed her hands on his knees and slowly stroked them across the hairy, 
muscular calves, bringing them together between his legs. She lifted his 
huge, baseball-sized balls in her hand, quivering with excitement as she 
felt their weight, and then circled her small, red-nailed fingers about the 
length of his joint. She ran her hand up and down the bulging, vein-etched 
staff, squeezing it gently, feeling the heat of his sex rush through her. 
Tricia's pussy juices were running freely now, and flickering flames of 
desire consumed her loins. 

"Suck it, bitch!" Bertram growled, reaching down and cruelly tangling his 
big fingers in her hair, jerking her forward. 

Tricia whimpered as her face was jammed between her burly employer's legs. 
The bulging knob of his prick slid against her cheek, a droplet of pearly 
pre-come smearing over her skin. 

She flicked out her pink wet tongue and laved the spongy surface of his cock 
head, tasting the salty, pungent taste of his manhood. Pursing her lips into 
a voluptuous crimson 'O' she kissed the puckered glans, the tip of her 
tongue delving into the piss slit. She sucked hard, taking the entire knob 
into her mouth, darting her tongue expertly back and forth across the 
mushroom-shaped head. 

She had to strain her jaws so far apart that they threatened to snap in 
order to accommodate the equine proportions of his mighty member. The dick 
scraped against the roof of her mouth and flattened her tongue, which she 
curled around the rigid trunk, wriggling it teasingly back and forth. 

Sanderson groaned in pleasure. Yeah, the slut knew how to suck dick, all 
right. She was a fucking expert! Her hot satiny tongue was sending bolts of 
electric passion cutting through his knotting loins. 

The Andrews Sisters were singing "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree" now, and 
Bertram clamped his big beefy hands around the back of the sexy whore's 
head, his biceps bulging as he forced her face down in his lap. 

Tricia gave a muffled squeak of protest as the huge log of meat wedged 
suddenly in her throat. Her eyes bulged, and she gagged, trying to push away 
from the brutal stud. But Bertram relentlessly pushed her down on his 
upright organ, hunching his hips back and forth, driving the ten inches of 
solid, steely tumescence deep into her constricting gullet. 

Tricia whimpered, her senses reeling, as her nose was mashed against her 
employer's pungent pubic bush, and her bloated lips sluiced over the fat 
root of his massive truncheon. Her whole mouth and throat were stuffed to 
their fullest capacity with his oversized joint, and she couldn't breathe. 

Bertram grunted with satisfaction as the sweet hot tightness of the bitch's 
oral orifice encompassed his entire, lust-bloated pecker. He relaxed his 
grip on her head, allowing Tricia to back off enough to gasp down a lungful 
of air, and then he slammed her face into his lap again, groaning with 
savage rapture as he fucked his hips forward, driving his ramrod deep into 
her throat. 

Bertram dug his fingers into Tricia Mowler's thick red tresses and yanked 
her head up, his large, turgid whanger popping moistly out of her mouth and 
slapping up against his hairy belly. 

He growled hoarsely, "You're a good cock-sucker, baby, real good!" 

He slid his hands beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. Tricia was 
still gasping for breathe, her throat aching from the brutal battering it 
had just received. 

Bertram's hands ran over his new secretary's body, caressing the creamy, 
pale flesh. He dug his fingers into the swollen, ballooning mounds of her 
knockers, kneading them lasciviously. Growling with bestial pleasure, he 
bent forward and nuzzled his face between the two resilient hills of her 
tits, burrowing into her deep cleavage. 

He thrust out his tongue and began to greedily lap at her powdery white 
flesh, moving up one of the protruding slopes of her jugs, which he clenched 
tightly in his beefy, sweaty hand. He clamped his mouth about the swollen 
nipple and sucked it hard, worrying it between his teeth and tugging it away 
from her body. His tongue lashed across the pebbly halo of her aureola and 
strummed the rivet-like finger of flesh which he had between his teeth. 

Tricia yipped and whimpered in mingled pain and pleasure, heat beginning to 
cascade through her body in resonant waves. Sanderson grasped her other 
bosom, catching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and plucking at 
it teasingly, rolling it back and forth. Then he moved his head to the other 
tit and suckled it greedily. Tricia squealed and gasped in delight, running 
her hands through the short stiff bristles of his close-cropped hair. 

Bertram dropped his hands to her waist, and drew the coarse finger tips over 
her creamy, sleek belly and down to her crotch. He scraped his cuticles 
across the soft sticky slope of her snatch, tracing the puffy slit. Worming 
his finger back and forth, he slid it between the silky pink folds of flesh 
and into the furnace-hot chute of her cock-hungry orifice. Tricia mewled 
with passion, beginning to undulate her hips, pushing her pussy against his 
probing fingers. 

Bertram pushed a second finger inside of her sweet hairless pussy and began 
to jerk them to and fro, skewering her tight, velvety cuntal channel on the 
stubby, thick digits. He frigged her twat lustily, continuing to noisily 
slurp and suck on her big, swinging boobs. Now the Andrews Sisters were 
singing their lively hit, "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy." 

Bertram released his secretary's tit from his teeth, and the resilient globe 
of flesh wobbled back into place, the erect nipple glistening with his 
saliva. 

Still gripping and massaging her tits with his hands, Sanderson dropped to 
his knees in front of the buxom redhead and stared with salacious eyes at 
her wet, puffy muff which he had frigged till it was wet and juicy. 

Bending forward, he sniffed it greedily, inhaling the fragrant feminine 
scent which burned through his blood like a drug, intoxicating him with 
lustful longing. He let go of her tits and dug his big calloused thumbs 
between the soft velvety folds of her outer vaginal lips, spreading them 
apart. Then, with a low growl of rapacious excitement, he buried his face in 
between her creamy thighs, mashing his mouth into the sweet, peach-like 
pussy. Tricia gave a shriek of pleasure as the big stud started to noisily 
suck her twat, his wriggling long tongue prying deep into her hot box. He 
lashed his tongue in and out of her, tasting her sweet, unctuous fluids. 
Ferreting out the quivering knob of her erect clitoris, he began to strum it 
teasingly with the tip of his tongue, sending darts of ecstasy knifing 
through the voluptuous slut's vibrating figure. 

"Oh, YES, Mr. Sanderson! That feels so NICE! Lick it, Mr. Sanderson! LICK 
IT!" she moaned in pleasure, oscillating her hips lewdly. 

Bertram gave a muffled growl, slurping voraciously at her delectable, 
hairless orifice, digging his fingers into the high dimpled lobes of her 
sexy ass. 

She was still wearing her black net stockings and high heeled shoes, which 
turned on Bertram a lot. He was finding himself becoming dizzy with lust. He 
needed to screw the cunt off of this hot bitch. He needed it bad.... 

He lifted his face away from her tingling crotch and stood up suddenly, his 
breath coming harshly as he gazed down into her face with glazing eyes. His 
mouth was smeared with her sticky juices, and his saliva-slickened erection 
thrust out impudently, scraping against her quivering belly. 

"Lie down on the couch, baby," Bertram ordered huskily. 

Quivering in erotic anticipation, Tricia Mowler climbed onto the big couch 
and reclined on her back, poking her big, marshmallow soft boobies into the 
air, and spreading her legs invitingly. Her big brown eyes were wet with 
excitement, and her crimson lips were parted and trembling. 

Bertram dropped to his knees on the end of the couch. He grasped Tricia by 
the ankles, pushing her legs forward. Edging closer to her, he placed her 
ankles over his shoulders and slid his hands forward, planting them on the 
couch on either side of her. 

Then, he slowly lowered his beefy, muscular body on top of her. Tricia 
whimpered as she felt his long, wet truncheon slide heavily across her 
puckered pussy lips, like a thick, bloated sausage. Bertram began to hunch 
his hips to and fro, pulling back and punching forward until the tip of his 
penis slid between the delicate petals of her sex. 

Grunting with animalistic satisfaction, Bertram braced his powerful body on 
top of the buxom whore and began to pump his pelvis back and forth lustily. 
Tricia threw back her head and uttered a shrill scream of pleasure as she 
felt the thick, pulsating length of his tool slide deeply inside of her, 
scraping the velvety, clutching walls of her cuntal furrow wide apart. 

Bertram groaned in pleasure as the slick, heated sleeve squelched over his 
sensitized boner, ensconcing it completely in her sluicing, sucking vaginal 
membranes. Shit, that felt good! He stirred the pole of his manhood deep 
inside of her, crushing his powerful thighs against her softer ones, his 
hairy belly bearing down on her smooth stomach. 

"Yeah, that's nice and tight, bitch! And I'm gonna fuck you now like you've 
never been fucked before!" 

He arched his back and lunged forward, plowing into her brutally, his 
muscles rippling as he humped in and out of her vigorously. He drew almost 
the entire length of his rock-hard truncheon out of her and drove it deeply 
inside of her, banging the bloated knob incessantly against her stretched 
cervix. 

Tricia whimpered and moaned in pleasure, tossing her luxuriant red tresses 
from side to side in a frenzy of passion. 

Tricia enjoyed her work, but usually, she had to fake pleasure because so 
many of her "employers" turned out to be balding, fat old men with tiny 
phalluses who came almost immediately after they had stuck their things 
inside of her. With Bertram Sanderson, it was different. She was really 
getting a good, hard fuck, and her whorish, delectably curvaceous body was 
on fire as rivulets of liquid lust rolled through her each time the big, 
brawny stud rammed his ten inch barbed lance deep inside of her sensual 
channel. 

Their loins mashed moistly together, and neither of them listened to the 
Andrews Sisters' rendition of "The Woodpecker Song." Each time Bertram 
rammed into her, his big hairy balls whacked against Tricia Mowler's soft, 
bouncy buttocks. His breath came hard and fast between his clenched teeth. 

After a while, he slowed down the tempo of his fucking unexpectedly, 
stirring his big pole inside of her, enjoying the satiny feel of her cunt 
surrounding the bulging pole. 

"You like my big pecker, babe?" he growled, "You like to get fucked real 
hard?" 

"Oh, YES, Mr. Sanderson! It feels so ... so WONDERFUL!" she gushed, batting 
her long lashes at him. 

He grinned lewdly at her and backed off suddenly, drawing his pecker out of 
her buttery vagina with a loud squelching sound. Tricia whimpered in 
disappointment. It had just begun to feel real good inside of her! 

Reaching down, Bertram fisted the sticky, heated stem of his man meat, and 
hunched forward, guiding it between the creamy lobes of the lady's buttocks. 
He soon found what he was probing for the wrinkly, pursed maw of her winking 
rectum. He rested the fat corona of his sex tool against the ass-hole, 
feeling the way it sucked hotly at his glans. 

"O.K., honey, I'm gonna fuck your hot little ass now!" he growled lewdly. 

He grunted as he banged his hairy ass forward hard. Tricia gave a piercing 
shriek as white-hot spasms of pain knifed through her bowels. She hadn't 
been prepared for so brutal an assault on her anus, and her protesting 
sphincter muscle was suddenly stretched wide open by the iron-hard 
tumescence of her employer's phallus which shoved its way brutally inside of 
her furnace-hot colon. 

But Tricia was an experienced girl, and she knew that the pain would ebb as 
soon as she relaxed. She bit on her lower lip, blinking through her tears, 
shudders of agony coursing through her rectum. 

Bertram grunted in bestial delight as the tight clutching glove-like orifice 
snapped around his bulging joint, and he began to saw his hips lustily to 
and fro, driving his pecker deeper and deeper into her guts. Soon, his 
bristling pubic patch was mashed against the succulent, creamy halves of her 
ass, and he had imbedded all ten inches of his horsedick inside of the 
comely woman. 

Tricia gave a broken sob of mingled pain and pleasure as she felt the 
strange, billowing sensation of desire begin to trickle through the haze of 
pain in her guts. As Bertram began to move his ass back and forth, sliding 
in and out of her aching rectum, her bowels began to kindle with an almost 
excruciating pleasure. She arched her back and gasped in delight, digging 
her nails into Bertram's broad, sweaty back. 

"Yeah, baby! Take it! Take my huge dick up your hungry ass-hole, slut!" he 
snarled, lustily pounding in and out of her hot hole. 

Tricia sobbed in joy as billowing blasts of pleasure rippled through her 
sex-ravaged body. Her senses whirled, and she felt herself beginning to 
melt. Her ass and cunt began to burn with excruciating ecstasy, and she 
suddenly screeched like a banshee. 

"AIEEE! I I'M CUMMING! OH! M-MR. SANDERSON! AIIEEEE!" she yelped loudly, 
squirming like an eel as he plowed into her hard. 

Bertram grunted in pleasure, feeling her tight sphincter muscle convulse and 
spasmodically milk at his plunging sex tool. He redoubled his efforts, 
fucking her ass as hard as he could, watching her face as she sobbed 
deliriously, her body wracked by rapturous multiple orgasms. 

He was gasping with lust himself, his brawny body drenched in sweat, his 
balls tightening as he felt the approach of a volcanic eruption of semen. 
But he didn't want to shoot it up the bitch's ass. He wanted to do something 
he always did with girls with big tits. 

He pulled out of her ass quickly, shrugging Tricia Mowler's feet off of his 
shoulders, and straddled her middle, his long, slick, throbbing manmeat 
bobbing obscenely in front of him. 

Grabbing the creamy mounds of her enormous breasts, he pulled them apart. 
Edging forward, he plopped his wet, thick pecker into her deep cleavage and 
mashed her big soft boobs together. With a groan of satisfaction, he began 
to hump his hips back and forth, literally fucking her wobbling tits. The 
silky, hot flesh sluiced around his rigid column of flesh and gristle 
deliciously, and he gazed greedily down at her big jiggling boobies, 
crushing them cruelly in his hands until the pliant silky flesh oozed 
between his fingers. He caught the puckered nipples between his forefingers 
and thumbs and pinched them hard until Tricia yipped in protest. 

The panting red head was ogling him with her big brown eyes, watching the 
way his enormous ramrod sliced back and forth between her tits. Each time he 
punched forward, the drooling mushroom-shaped tip would protrude from 
between her breasts, pointing directly at her face. She shuddered in 
anticipation, and opened her sultry mouth wide. She could tell by the way he 
was grunting and gasping, and from the urgency of his thrusts, that he was 
getting very close to coming. 

Bertram Sanderson threw back his bullish head and uttered a resounding roar 
of bestial culmination, a violent shudder wracking his body. Red hot 
explosions of pleasure ricocheted through his brawny physique as his virile 
jism hurtled from his balls and spattered in thick gushes from the end of 
his prick. 

Big globs of heavy, pungent cream jetted into Tricia's open mouth. Other 
jets of the hosing liquid splashed across her cheeks and into her hair. 
Sanderson groaned in gluttonous pleasure, swiveling his big, spasming pecker 
between the slut's moist, bouncy boobs, spurting his heavy load till his 
balls were empty and Tricia Mowler's face was drenched in sticky come. 

As he sat panting on her belly, sweat dripping down his body, the intercom 
buzzer began to ring urgently. On the record player, the Andrews Sisters 
crooned the old favorite, "Rum and Coca Cola." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Bertram gave a snarl as he heard the buzzer on his intercom, and reluctantly 
got up. He knew very well that his assistant, Barney Lester, wouldn't dare 
to disturb him unless it was something very important. 

The burly businessman stood up, wiping the sweat off his brow and glancing 
down at the prone, panting body of the disheveled woman he had just fucked. 
He grinned at her crudely, and strode to the intercom. 

Pressing the buzzer he barked, "Well?" 

"Sorry, sir," Barney's anxious voice crackled, "But it's Miss Marchmont, of 
Wigginham Academy. I think you'd better talk to her. Something serious has 
occurred. She's on line three." 

Sanderson's face blanched with concern. What could have happened? His head 
reeled with images of disaster. Shelly had died! She was deathly ill! She 
had been kidnapped! 

He picked up the phone in his sweaty hand and said into it, "Miss Marchmont, 
this is Bertram Sanderson. What has happened?" 

He listened for a long time to the nervous female voice on the other end of 
the line. His expression gradually changed from one of anxiety, to one of 
anger and disgust. His narrowed green eyes flashed with dangerous lights. 

"I see," he said flatly after a while, "I must say, Miss Marchmont, that I 
hold you fully responsible for this disgraceful incident. I am very much 
disturbed by the lack of discipline you have displayed. If my daughter 
should come to any harm, you will be in very grave trouble indeed." 

He hardly listened as the poor woman frantically chirped in defense of 
herself. 

Interrupting her rudely, he said, "What is the fellow's name? I see. Miss 
Marchmont, I will be sending someone to see you for the details in this 
matter in a very short period of time. If any further urgent information 
should come to light, I want to know it immediately. Is that understood? And 
another thing. I don't want ONE WORD of this to be leaked to the press. 
Circulate the story that my daughter returned suddenly home because of a 
family illness. If I see a story in the newspapers concerning this incident, 
I shall be extremely displeased." 

He hung up the phone and began to pull on his clothes quickly. He paid no 
attention to Tricia Mowler, and taking the cue, the redhead began to get 
dressed too. 

Bertram Sanderson strode to the door to his office and burst out into the 
foyer. Barney Lester was waiting anxiously for his boss. 

"Phone the Robertson Detective Agency," Sanderson snapped, "I want their 
best men on the case. They're to track down those two immediately. Shelly is 
to be brought home immediately. I don't care what they do with the bastard 
who took her. Pay him off, ship him to Canada, get him the hell away from 
her. Is that understood? I want this taken care of immediately! And no word 
to the press!" 

"Yes, sir!" Barney said, and grabbed for the phone. 

Moira Bradshaw had been the proprietress of the Bates Motel for twenty 
years. She was a small, bird-like woman with iron gray hair pulled back in a 
bun and horn-rimmed glasses which made her beady brown eyes look larger than 
they were. She peered curiously at the couple who stood across from the 
desk. It was about two a.m., and the two youngsters had come dashing in out 
of the rain. They looked disheveled and were out of breath, as if they had 
been running. Their clothes were sopping wet, and the only piece of luggage 
they had between them was a small valise. 

They were a good-looking couple. The young man was tall and handsome with 
short dark hair and cobalt blue eyes. The young girl he had his arm around 
was a gorgeous blonde with pretty features and large, baby blue eyes. She 
didn't look as though she were much more than sixteen or seventeen. 

Moira Bradshaw was a practical, shrewd woman. But she had a touch of romance 
in her as well. She recognized a couple in love when she saw one, and she 
could tell that they were running from something. 

"Will you sign the register, please?" she said calmly. 

The young man took up the pen and scribbled down, "Mr. and Mrs. Crane." 

Miss Bradshaw repressed a smile. Crane. 

Well, that was a bit more original than "Smith!" 

"Will you be staying long?" she asked. "No, just for the night," the man 
said. 

"Do you want to park your car in the garage?" 

"We haven't got a car." 

Moira raised her head in surprise. The Bates Motel was located off of the 
main highway. It was ten miles to the nearest town, and there were no bus 
stops near by. These two were really desperate, then. She guessed that they 
had hitched a lift from some compassionate driver. 

She handed them a set of keys. 

"Cabin number one," she said dryly. 

"Uh, could you see that we're not disturbed?" the young man said awkwardly. 

"You are at present the only guests in the motel. You will be left alone, I 
assure you." 

"Thank you. Thank you very much." 

Generally, Miss Bradshaw insisted that her guests pay before she gave them 
their keys. But she felt a strange motherly urge to protect these fleeing 
youngsters. She thought they looked honest and would pay her before they 
left. And if they couldn't pay, she wasn't about to turn them out in the 
cold. 

Shelly gave a sigh of relief as she plumped down on one of the twin beds in 
the small motel room. Her blonde hair hung in damp strands about her 
shoulders, and she shivered with cold. 

Rick dropped to his knees in front of his lover and hugged her to him. 

"Oh, honey, I hope we're doing the right thing," he murmured. 

She drew her arms around his neck and said softly, "We are, darling. I know 
we are." 

She shivered again and he said, "Let's get out of these wet things and into 
a hot shower." 

They gladly stripped off their soaking garments, and dashed together into 
the small bathroom. Rick got into the shower and turned it on full blast, 
yelping as it briefly scalded him before he had time to adjust the 
temperature. He quickly fixed it, and reached out, grabbing Shelly by the 
arm and pulling her beneath the jets of hot, stinging water. 

Giggling, she threw her arms around his slender waist and pressed her 
breasts against his hard chest, shivering with delight as their warm bodies 
mashed together. 

Rick embraced her, pressing his hot mouth against hers and kissing Shelly 
hungrily. He ran his hands luxuriantly down her sloping back, sensuously 
stroking the dimpled curves of her ass cheeks as the shower head poured 
streams of deliciously warm water over their young, sexy bodies. 

Shelly felt her boy friend's lusty penis begin to grow erect, impudently 
asserting itself between their moist bellies and throbbing against the sleek 
flesh of her tummy. 

She gave a soft sigh of seductive contentment, running her hands up Rick's 
powerfully muscled chest. She bent down and kissed his shoulder, reaching 
between his legs and titillating the bulging length of his barbed lance with 
her soft, feathery fingers. The former Navy man groaned in pleasure, 
shivering as the delectable blonde began to draw her hands sensuously over 
the tumescent, vein-latticed length of his penis, sending darts of rippling 
rapture through him. 

Shelly dropped suddenly to her knees on the floor of the shower, pressing 
her lips against Rick's navel, tracing the rippling musculature of his belly 
with her pouting, coral-pink lips. Her mouth rustled across the damp coils 
of his pubic bush, and his throbbing erection slid moistly against her 
cheek, pressing against her ear as she buried her face into his thighs, 
smelling the scent of him. 

She darted out her tongue and began to lave his balls salaciously, tickling 
the wrinkly, hairy scumbag, and affixing her lips to each of his nuts and 
slurping at them hungrily. 

Rick gasped in delight, arching his back and stroking his fingers through 
Shelly's damp tresses as she tongued his hairy testicles, sending flames of 
concupiscence flooding through his lusty young loins. 

Shelly circled her fingers around the base of his throbbing joint and drew 
it down until the wet reddish knob was pointing at her face. She pursed her 
rosy lips and pressed them against the puckered glans, kissing it gently. 
Her tongue flicked out and grazed over the pulpy flesh, dipping briefly into 
the piss slit and savoring the sharp tang of salty secretion that lingered 
there. She widened her jaws, circling her lips into an 'O' shape, and hummed 
in delight as she took the bulbous tip of his prick into her mouth, sucking 
it like candy. Her silky tongue curled around the stem of his meat, and as 
she began to bob her head tentatively back and forth, her sweet tongue 
formed a delectable trough which sent exquisite ripples of electric pleasure 
shooting through his sensitized sex tool. 

"Oh, baby, that feels so good!" he groaned in ecstasy, swiveling his hips 
and savoring the sensation. 

Shelly ran her fingers up the backs of his legs and dug them into his hard, 
compact buns as she began to suck his prick in earnest, darting her head to 
and fro, letting more and more of his rampant member disappear in between 
her puckered lips. Rick pushed to her tonsils, and Shelly bravely forced her 
head forward, swallowing hard. Her eyes bulged and teared up as she 
struggled against the reflex to gag as several inches of Rick's rigid dick 
suddenly slid deeply into her aching gullet. But she shuddered and gripped 
tightly to his buttocks, pressing her face against his thighs until her lips 
mashed into his moist pubic bush. Her senses swirled in delight. Her mouth 
and throat were completely stuffed witlj Rick's stiff joint, and flashes of 
heat rippled through her sweet young loins as she enjoyed the new sensation. 

Rick gasped in surprised rapture, his legs trembling, his hands digging into 
his lover's hair as she deep-throated his entire spear. His throbbing 
erection was deliciously surrounded by her sweet velvety oral orifice, and 
as Shelly began to bob her head back and forth lasciviously, jolts of 
violent pleasure shot through him, making his body shudder convulsively. 

"Awwww, honey! You're doing it so good! Suck it, sweetheart! Suck it!" he 
groaned feverishly, beginning to pump his pelvis gently back and forth, 
feeding her his gigantic rod. 

Shelly gave a muffled squeal of pleasure, sucking at his meat eagerly. She 
dropped one hand between her legs and began to run her fingers lewdly up and 
down her aching slit. With her other hand, she cupped Rick's big, swinging 
balls, running two fingers lewdly along the underside of his scrotum. 

"OOOOOH! S-Shelly, if you keep that up much longer, I I won't be able to 
hold it back!" Rick gasped, his brawny body trembling with lust as he gaped 
down at the delectable sight of the pretty sixteen year old blonde on her 
knees before him, eagerly slurping at his pecker. 

Shelly drew back, releasing his dick from her mouth briefly, raising her 
flushed, gorgeous face to look at him with smoldering blue eyes. 

"I want you to come in my mouth," she gasped shakily, "I want to taste it as 
it spurts from your prick!" 

She immediately resumed sucking him, and Rick groaned in delight, abandoning 
himself to the waves of pleasure that coursed through his virile young body 
as Shelly's mouth and tongue drove him wild. 

He clenched tightly to her head and began to hump into her hard, driving his 
prick deep into her constricting gullet. 

"B-Baby, oh. BABY! HERE IT COMES, HONEY, HERE IT FUCKING COMES! AAARRRGH!" 
he bellowed ecstatically, ramming his throbbing, quaking pole deep into her 
throat. 

Shelly felt the base of his cock throb violently, and his balls tightened 
and quivered in her hand. Her tongue swished rapidly back and forth, 
titillating his tingling pecker as raging flames of lust consumed his 
seething loins. 

As the young stud started to shoot his wad, Shelly yanked back her head 
until only the bloated crown of his prick was in her mouth. She wanted to 
taste every drop of the precious semen, and gave a muffled mewl of triumph 
as the first thick jet of creamy, sticky goo blasted from her lover's pecker 
into her mouth. She savored the hot, pungent flavor swallowing greedily. 
Gush after gush of semen hosed into her mouth as Rick gasped and grunted 
with lustful delight, his entire body shuddering. 

Shelly's mouth pulled and milked the spasming manmeat until she had quaffed 
every drop of come from his balls. Then, with a sigh, she slowly released 
his diminishing whanger, smacking her lips and licking at the rivulet of 
sperm that had escaped from the corner of her mouth. 

She scrambled to her feet, and Rick drew her against him, crushing her in a 
bear hug. 

"Oh, baby, that was so wonderful!" he said huskily into her ear. 

He picked up a bar of soap and began to draw it lovingly over her body, 
running it over the full hills of her breasts and down her belly and in 
between her legs. Shelly shuddered in delight as her rugged lover sensuously 
washed her entire, sultry young body, his hands sliding into her crevices 
and over the voluptuous curves, setting her nerve endings on fire. 

When she was completely washed off, Shelly took the soap from him and began 
to clean off his body as well. She slid the bar into his arm pits and over 
his broad chest, down his washboard belly and through the tangled pubic-mane 
that surrounded his dangling penis. As she slid her sudsy fingers over his 
warm, heavy penis, it began to slowly expand again, and she giggled, looking 
up at him coquettishly. She scrubbed his balls, too, and continued to wash 
him off until both young lovers were squeaky clean. 

Then, they rinsed off and Rick turned the shower off and grabbed one of the 
motel towels. He lovingly dried off the blonde beauty, and then himself. 

"Now, let's hit the sack," he murmured huskily. 

He lifted her suddenly into his arms and Shelly squealed in startled glee at 
the ease with which he hefted her up. She locked her arms around his 
powerful neck and rained his face with kisses as he strode into the motel 
room and plopped her unceremoniously onto one of the twin beds. 

Laughing, he rolled on top of her, and their bodies entwined in a breathless 
embrace. 

Rick ran his hand luxuriantly down the front of her figure, pausing to 
caress and pluck at her sweet, cantaloupe-sized bosoms. Then, he began to 
run the heel of his hand gently back and forth between her legs, feeling the 
heated moistness of her cuntal lips. Shelly gasped in pleasure, digging her 
fingers convulsively into his back as Rick began to probe the inner regions 
of her aching pussy. 

He discovered her throbbing clitoris, and began to roll the tip of his 
finger over it in feathery, circular motions. Shelly sobbed in ecstasy as 
rapturous bolts of electric pleasure rippled through her loins. Her twat was 
quivering with need, her feminine juices beginning to saturate and lubricate 
the tunnel's tight, velvety walls. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he whispered huskily into her ear as he 
sensuously titillated her snatch. 

"Ooooh, y-yes, YES!" Shelly sobbed deliriously, clutching at his shoulders 
and oscillating her hips luxuriantly. 

Rick eased himself on top of her, and quickly maneuvered his throbbing 
pecker between her legs. In no time at all, he had penetrated her silken 
passageway, and he moaned in rapture, bucking his hips lustily to and fro, 
pounding the entire length of his sex tool into her sweet, succulent chasm. 

Shelly whimpered and gasped in pleasure, arching her back and writhing 
beneath Rick's brawny, pumping body. She raked her fingers across his back, 
sliding them down and digging her nails into the tight, hard slabs of his 
buttocks, urgently tugging at them, pulling him deeper and deeper inside of 
her hungry furrow. 

"Oh, FUCK ME, DARLING! FUCK ME!" she sobbed in ecstasy. 

He bent down and smothered her mouth with his own, his cock sluicing 
vigorously in and out of her sweet, buttery cuntal channel as he slid his 
tongue deeply into her mouth, sucking out her saliva. 

He was slamming into her hard now, causing the bed to creak and groan in 
protest. Shelly's cries reached a frantic pitch, and finally, she sobbed 
with joy as her body was wracked by intense multiple orgasms. 

"I'M CU-U-U-UMMING!" she shrieked, "AIEEEE!" 

"Oh, YEAH!" Rick grunted, plowing into her passionately, "Take it, honey, 
take my hot load!" 

He felt her convulsing, sucking glove-like sheath squelch hotly around the 
base of his pumping pecker, and her gushing love juice scalded his sex organ 
as she came. His head whirled and he plunged deeply inside of his young 
blonde lover's hungry channel, roaring in pleasure as he shot his wad. 

Shelly sobbed in delight as she felt his semen squirt deep inside her womb, 
filling her with his spunky seed. The two young lovers ground to a stop, 
collapsing in a panting heap of hot, exhausted limbs on the bed. That was 
how they drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

The next morning, Moira Bradshaw saw through the window of her office the 
young man coming toward her. He greeted her politely, and asked if it would 
be all right if they stayed another night? She dryly replied that it wasn't 
exactly peak season and she had twenty empty cabins available. Then he 
inquired where he could get something to eat. She told him about a small 
diner about a ten minute walk from there, and he paid her for the motel room 
before striding off in that direction. He returned about half an hour later 
with some food in a doggy bag, and disappeared into the cabin. 

Neither he nor the young woman emerged again that afternoon. At about four 
o'clock, a dark Pontiac pulled up in front of her office and two men got 
out. They were burly, mean-looking guys in dark suits, with beady eyes and, 
a loojk which told Moira immediately that they were after something. 

She glanced up as they entered her office. 

"Afternoon, ma'am," one of them, a big, ugly fellow with a broken nose, 
drawled casually, "You full up?" 

"Not at this time of the year, young fellow," she said quickly, "Hardly get 
any guests at all. You want to rent a cabin?" 

"No, ma'am," the man said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a wallet 
and extracted two photographs which he shoved in front of her. 

"You seen either of these two parties recently?" 

Moira impassively looked down at the pictures. She instantly recognized them 
as the two youngsters to whom she had rented a room. She looked up at the 
man and paused before making a decision that was against her own moral 
outlook. 

"No," she said firmly, "Never seen them before in my life." 

"Uh huh," the man said, scratching his head, "Got any guests here now?" 

"No," she said, "We're empty." 

"Funny thing," the man drawled, "The guy at the diner down the road said he 
saw this guy earlier today. Said he bought some burgers and came back this 
way. Now, why would he come in this direction unless he had somewhere to 
stay?" 

Moira Bradshaw's eyes shifted from one man to the next. 

"Who are you anyway?" she snapped. 

"I'm a detective, ma'am. Dick Klaus is the name." 

He flashed a badge at her. 

"Mind if I look at your register?" he said, and before she had a chance to, 
reply, he grabbed it and Hipped it open, turning to the last page. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Crane, hm?" he said musingly, "Why, ma'am, I thought you said 
there weren't any guests here." 

Moira stared at him in stubborn silence. 

Klaus' eyes shifted to the row of keys behind her. 

"Come on, Balsam," he said, "They're in Cabin One." 

Shelly and Rick sat on the edge of the bed, munching potato chips and 
watching an old movie on TV They both jumped when there was a loud knock on 
the door. Rick leaned forward, turning down the volume, placing a finger to 
his lips. They both sat quietly, their hearts racing. 

The knock came again, this time more insistent than before. 

A harsh male voice rang out, "All right. open up in there!" 

Rick and Shelly were momentarily paralyzed. Before they had time to think, 
Dick Klaus kicked in the door. The two burly detectives burst into the room. 
Shelly screamed and Rick jumped up, shielding her from them. 

"What the hell is this?" he shouted. 

"Step aside, buster," Dick Klaus snarled, "We're here to take the lady back 
to her father. You give us any trouble, and you're in for it." 

He stepped forward, reaching for Shelly. Rick gave a growl of anger and 
punched him squarely in the jaw, sending the burly detective sprawling. 

"Run, Shelly!" Rick shouted, grabbing her arm. 

They made a blind rush toward the door. Balsam, the other detective, threw 
himself in the air, tackling Rick around the ankles. The young man fell 
heavily forward and there was a sickening thud as his head struck the edge 
of a table. He collapsed in a heap on the floor. 

Shelly screamed and dashed to his side, sliding her hand beneath his head 
and lifting it up. 

"Rick? Rick, are you all rignt? RICK?" His eyes were closed and looked as 
though he was sleeping peacefully. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The next few weeks were a dark nightmare for Shelly Sanderson. One day slid 
into another, and her misery and despair blocked out everything else. She 
dimly recalled listening to her father lecture her severely about her 
behavior, and then she was confined to the Sanderson estate. Her father 
employed a bodyguard to watch her constantly. But Shelly didn't want to do 
anything or go anywhere. 

She slept a lot, and hardly ventured from the house at all. 

Sanderson started sending her to a shrink, but that didn't help much. The 
numbness that had taken possession of her was like a cloud sinking over her 
consciousness. It was too much for the vulnerable sixteen year old blonde to 
bear. She had had the one thing she wanted in life. She had achieved a 
brief, rapturous moment of happiness. And then, it was rudely, horribly, 
torn from her. Her lover had died, and she was returned to the oppressive 
home of her father. 

Through her morbid haze of unhappiness, she remembered a stanza of an Emily 
Dickinson poem which meant more to her now that she had experienced a 
similar experience. She murmured it softly beneath her breath one day: 

'For each ecstatic instant/we must an anguish pay/In keen and quivering 
ratio/To the ecstasy.'. 

Shelly lifted her head in surprise. She was always forgetting the presence 
of her bodyguard, who hovered over her like a hawk. 

"Nothing, Vince," she said wearily, and lay back and closed her eyes. 

Bertram Sanderson had made very sure that all newspapers be kept out of his 
daughter's way, because the unfortunate incidents at the 

Bates Motel had created a sensational media event. He had managed to block a 
move to have his daughter appear at the inquest of Richard Crawley. It was 
decided that the death was accidental. 

Ironically, Shelly was abruptly awakened from her cocoon of despair and 
lethargy by one of her trips to the shrink's office. But her father would 
not have been exactly overjoyed if he knew what it was that changed her 
state of mind. 

A woman who had had her appointment earlier in the day had left an old 
newspaper on the waiting room table. Shelly and Vince Cuccarese, her 
bodyguard, arrived a little early, and Vince strolled around in the hall, 
letting Ins charge wait alone in the foyer. That was when something in bold 
black print attracted Shelly's attention. 

Frowning, she reached over and picked up the newspaper. It was one of those 
scandal rags which revel in the plights and illicit affairs of celebrities. 
The headline read: SANDERSON HEIRESS RESCUED FROM KIDNAPPER; CULPRIT 
ACCIDENTALLY DIES IN STRUGGLE. 

The date indicated that the paper was several weeks old. Aghast at what she 
saw, Shelly rapidly perused the article. The gist of it was this: Shelly, 
the lovely, helpless, sixteen year old child of Bertram Sanderson, was 
forcibly abducted from Wigginham Academy by one Richard Crawley, and taken 
to a hotel where she was held as a hostage for two days before being rescued 
by brave detectives in the employ of her concerned father. 

"Rescued." 

"Kidnapped!! " A wave of indignation and anger rushed through Shelly as she 
read this nonsense! So that's how her father had explained things to the 
press! He had saved himself from scandal, though he had probably paid off a 
number of people liberally in order to do so. And the worst thing was that 
her gallant, beloved Rick was besmirched in the press. Everyone would think 
of him now as a criminal! Her heart trembled with mortification, but she was 
no longer in a state of deep despair. A fierce anger began to well inside of 
her, and the object of that anger was her father. She hated him. She hated 
him more than anyone, more than anything in the world. 

As she sat in the psychiatrist's office, her clever mind began to function 
again for the first time in weeks. She would vindicate Rick's name, and free 
herself from the clutches of her father if it was the last thing she did! 
She began to plot and plan. The shrink jotted down in his notes that 
afternoon that the Sanderson girl seemed remarkably improved. 

Shelly was virtually a prisoner. Her major obstacle at this point was Vince 
Cuccarese. He was a formidable man, and a quick-witted one, despite his 
features. A former Mafia hit man, he had been employed by Sanderson because 
of his reliability and his experience, as well as because of his brute 
strength. 

Vince was a hulking brute of a man. At thirty-four, he was at the peak of 
his physical strength. He stood six foot three and weighed two hundred and 
fifty pounds of solid muscle. He carried this weight easily on his brawny 
frame, and he had the look of a wild animal when he moved. He had a rugged, 
brutish face with short jet black hair and small black eyes. There was a 
scar on one of his cheeks, a token from his younger days as a hot-blooded, 
fierce-tempered gangster. 

Shelly began to study him. She recognized that there was something 
animalistic about him, something rather attractive. He was big and beefy and 
masculine. Not the type of guy she could fall in love with, but he WAS the 
type she could get into, sexually. 

She had not had sex since that awful day at the Bates Motel, and now, she 
began to become aware of the sensual craving that gnawed at her middle. Her 
cunt began to itch unbearably, and she would toss and turn at night, unable 
to sleep unless she stroked her throbbing clitoris till she had an orgasm. 
And 

I even then, there was something missing, something fundamentally important 
to satisfying sex. A real man. 

Shelly cultivated her casual sensual interest in Vince not merely because 
she wanted to have some sexual satisfaction, but because she needed to 
subdue him in order to carry out her plot against her father. 

She began to behave more normally than she had been, swimming daily and 
expressing an interest in horseback riding. She was allowed to ride as long 
as Vince accompanied her, and despite his girth, he turned out to be as good 
of a rider as she was. 

The stables were modernized, with luxury stalls for each steed, and a 
changing room and adjoining bathroom for riders. 

It was here that Shelly decided to make her conquest. One morning, as she 
entered the stables with her constant shadow, Vince discreetly waited 
outside one of the dressing room stalls for his charge to change into her 
riding outfit. 

Shelly was wearing a frothy pink dress with a zipper down the back. She had 
purposely avoided putting on anything underneath this dress. As she got into 
the changing stall, which was equipped with three large mirrors, one on each 
wall, and a curtain that insured privacy, Shelly pretended to have 
difficulty with the zipper on her dress. 

"Oh, Vince!" she called angelically. 

"Yes, Miss?" he asked. 

"Could you step in here for a moment? This zipper seems to be stuck." 

The powerfully built brute pulled back the curtain and reached in to help 
the young blonde girl, discreetly averting his eyes. 

"Oh, don't be such a silly thing, Vince!" Shelly said crossly, "Get in here 
with me! You're letting in a draft!" 

The burly Italian American hesitated momentarily, and then lumbered into the 
stall. His big meaty fingers fumbled with the zipper on the back of her 
dress, and there was a rasping sound as he drew it down part way. 

"Why did you stop?" Shelly cried, glancing over her shoulder in mock 
irritation. 

"Uh, I thought maybe you could get it now." 

"Oh, Vince, you're such a drip! Come on, unzip the whole thing!" 

He gave a surly growl, but obeyed, pulling it all the way down. Immediately, 
Shelly turned to face him, flashing the big bodyguard a dazzling smile. 

Before he had time to realize what she was doing, the perky blonde beauty 
slipped the straps off her shoulders, and jerked down on the frothy white 
dress. It fell in a foamy wave about her ankles, and she stood naked before 
the shocked, embarrassed man like Botticelli's Venus emerging from the sea. 

"M-MISS SANDERSON!" Vince croaked, his black eyes bulging comically. 

"What's the matter, Vince, darling? Never seen a girl without her clothes on 
before?" 

Shelly voluptuously drew her hands down the front of her body, caressing her 
own resilient, creamy breasts, drawing the palms in circular motions over 
her ripe strawberry-hued nipples and mewling with lascivious pleasure as the 
nubbins throbbed erect as rivets. Vince Cuccarese's eyes moved up and down 
his charge's body with helpless admiration, raking over the soft, lambent 
muff with its golden hairs and pink, delicate folds. Unwittingly, he felt a 
surge of animalistic lust flow through his virile loins. 

"Oooh, Vince, I'll bet you're ever so big!" Shelly cooed, reaching out 
brazenly and drawing her small hand between his legs, squeezing his crotch. 

She could feel the large basket beginning to stir with excitement. Shelly's 
smoldering glance of sensual interest was not feigned. At that moment, she 
was really enjoying herself and getting turned on. Vince looked very 
appetizing to the cock-hungry, frustrated teenage nymphet. 

He was wearing a short sleeved shirt with an open collar which clung to his 
bulging, muscular torso like a second skin. His chest was magnificent and 
perfectly formed, and he had broad shoulders and biceps like grapefruits. 
From the collar of his shirt, Shelly could see a thick tuft of black hair 
coiling, indicating that the virile Italian-American stud was extremely 
hirsute. 

He was also wearing tight-Fitting jeans which hugged his impressively 
bulging crotch, and from the rather pathetic gleam in his eye, a mixture of 
confusion and lust, Shelly knew at once that this was one Beast Beauty would 
have no trouble taming. 

But as her fingers closed around his groin and squeezed it lewdly, Vince 
leaped back, uttering a weak exclamation of protest. 

"M-Miss Sanderson! Cut it out! You know your father doesn't want you to do 
no foolin' around! 'Specially not with me! I could get in a lot of trouble!" 

Shelly blinked her liquid blue eyes at him innocently and said sweetly, 
"Yes, you certainly could, Vince. I can see the papers now. Ex-mobster 
turned bodyguard molests sixteen year old charge! You could get a pretty 
stiff sentence for that offense, couldn't you, Vince, darling?" 

"Y-Yes, ma'am, I could!" 

"So, you won't fuck me, Vince." 

"I I, uh, I CAN'T, Miss Sanderson! No way!" 

Shelly sighed and shook her head, shrugging. 

"Well, I guess I'll just have to go to Daddy and tell him that you assaulted 
me here and raped me." 

Vince's eyes bulged with fear now. 

"Y-You wouldn't do that, Miss Shelly!" he stammered feebly. 

Shelly's eyes flashed with dangerous lights and she said in an 
uncharacteristically hard voice, "Oh, wouldn't I? Listen, Vince Cuccarese, 
you'd be surprised what I would or wouldn't do. You either cooperate right 
now and make it with me, or your goose is cooked!" 

Vince believed her. There was something in her tone of voice, and in her 
eyes, which he correctly read as being deadly serious. Vince had one 
weakness; a paranoia about being sent back to the slammer. Actually, he had 
other weaknesses, but he was usually very good about controlling them while 
on the job. And a penchant for young pretty blondes was something he had 
nursed since he was a cocky young adolescent. 

This time, when Shelly's hand shot out and began to stroke his crotch, he 
didn't back off. Instead, he ground his hips forward, groaning a little as 
he felt her small hot fingers squeeze his unfurling pecker. He felt flames 
of passion begin to lick at his belly, and his blood began to flow quicker 
with excitement. He gazed down greedily at the gorgeous sixteen year old 
blonde who stood so voluptuously before him, with nothing on. Hell, why 
fight it? He reasoned. The little slut knew what she was doing. It sure 
would make his job less boring! 

He reached out tentatively, his huge ham-like hands closing around the full, 
fleshy orbs of the famous teenager's bosoms. Shelly gave a sexy sigh of 
delight as the big stud began to knead her tits in his calloused, sweaty 
hands. She shivered, feeling his strength flow through his hands. She knew 
he was capable of crushing a man's head with his bare hands. He was that 
powerful. And there was something delicious about being stroked and explored 
by those very same hands. 

She pushed her tits forward against his hands invitingly, and Vince gave a 
growl of prurient interest, scraping his big thumbs back and forth across 
her pulsing nipples and the surrounding pebbly aureoles. 

She groped for his zipper, and there was a loud rasping sound as she drew it 
down. Fumbling with his belt buckle, she unclasped it, and then undid the 
buttons of his fly. Gripping onto his pants, she tugged them down about his 
knees. 

He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts which tented alarmingly at the crotch. 
His tree trunk-like legs were solid as oaks and densely covered with hairs. 
Shelly sighed with delight, hooking her fingers in the elastic of his shorts 
and lifting them over the prodigious tower of bulging, heated flesh and 
gristle which rose impatiently between his hairy thighs. 

Her eyes widened and she gave a little cry of unfeigned admiration and 
trepidation as she set eyes on the giant bodyguard's gargantuan memeber. It 
was positively enormous! The vein-etched, throbbing shaft was so thick 
around that she could put both her hands around it and barely make the 
fingers touch. And it was incredibly long! She shivered as she gaped at the 
ten inch pole of virile manhood, her cunt beginning to tingle and grow hot 
and wet with anticipation. 

Gazing down at the fat, mushroom-shaped head, her mouth began to water with 
licentious craving. She whimpered in pleasure, sliding her fingers up and 
down the corrugated stem. A pair of huge, baseball-sized balls swung beneath 
the gigantic phallus. Shelly dropped suddenly to her knees in front of the 
hulking bodyguard, drawing the bloated head of his pecker down so that she 
was gazing at the puckered glans, which had leaked a glistening pearl of 
pre-come. 

"Oh, VINCE! It's-It's ENORMOUS!" she squeaked in a tremulous voice. 

The Italian-American stud merely grunted in reply, his small black eyes 
gleaming with lust, his hard mouth twisted into a lascivious smirk. He gave 
a low moan of pleasure when the gorgeous blonde girl blew hot air on the tip 
of his prick," and then flicked out her tongue, whipping off the driblet of 
lubrication on his piss-slit, darting it back and forth across his pulpy 
crown. 

She bent forward, inhaling the pungent, sweaty scent of his brute 
masculinity, her senses swirling with lust. Puckering her sweet, soft, rosy 
lips, she moistly kissed the tumescent tip of his cock. He was so big around 
that she couldn't even begin to fit the prick inside her mouth, so she 
settled for licking it up and down salaciously like an ice cream cone, 
pressing her lips to the sides and sucking hard. She moved up and down the 
shaft, lubricating it with her saliva, humming in contentment as she tasted 
his manly flavors. Vince growled and gasped in ecstasy as the sweet young 
slut's moist lips and mouth sent hot darts of pleasure rippling through his 
groin. He was getting dizzy with desire, shudders wracking his immense six 
foot three inch frame. 

Shelly purred with pleasure as she lifted the stud's enormous testicles in 
her hands, tickling the underside of his scrotum with her fingers. She 
feathered her lips across the wrinkly, hairy sac, lashing it lewdly with her 
tongue, titillating his big, bloated gonads through the coarse flesh. 

"Oh, YEAH, baby! Lick them balls! YEAH!" Vince grunted huskily, reaching 
down and running his big sweaty hand through her golden tresses. 

"Mmmmm, they taste so good!" Shelly gasped, taking a break from her ball 
licking to gaze up at her bodyguard with her baby blue eyes. Her pretty face 
was flushed and sexy, her moist red lips puckered and tremulous. Vince 
couldn't believe how much she was turning him on. 

Suddenly, she stood up and said in a voice like honey, "Come on, Vince, 
love. It's much too cramped in here for us to really enjoy ourselves. Let's 
go into one of the empty stalls." 

She tugged at his big hand, and the bodyguard, by now a bit disoriented with 
lust, meekly followed the pretty nubile blonde, lumbering after her like a 
giant being led by a pixie. It was rather a humorous sight, the lovely, 
naked blonde girl pulling the huge, Neanderthalic guy with his shirt on, his 
pants off, and his thick phallus wobbling in front of him like a flag pole 
stirring in the wind. 

The rich smell of hay and horses wafted into their nostrils as they entered 
the stables. Shelly and Vince went up to one of the stalls which was empty, 
and pulled open the wooden gate, stepping inside. Lots of dry hay covered 
the ground, and from some cracks in the wall, rays of sunlight striped the 
floor with bars of golden yellow and with shadow. 

Shelly dropped down in the hay and lay back, luxuriantly stretching, arching 
her back and pushing her high, sweet tits in the air, throwing her legs 
apart wide. 

Vince gaped at the sight of the sultry young miss spread-eagled at his feet, 
the honeyed sunlight striping her gorgeous, silky body, glistening as it 
fell across the lambent triangle of her pubic fleece. As Shelly spread her 
legs, Vince saw the petal-like pink lips of her vagina draw apart, and the 
gleaming jewels of her delectable sex sparkled at him like some exotic 
fruit. His pecker jerked with animalistic excitement. He gave a low growl 
and dropped to his knees beside her in the hay. 

He began to run his big hands feverishly over her body, caressing and 
massaging it, pinching her nipples, stroking her flesh, running the heel of 
his hand between her moist thighs, up and down her warm pussy slit. 

"Oh, Vince, that feels so good!" Shelly moaned sexily, her blazing blue eyes 
gazing into his brutish face, "Take your shirt off! I want to see you 
completely naked, too!" 

The former mobster sat up on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his 
head, revealing his burly torso. It rippled with muscles, and the bulging 
pecs were encrusted in a thick blanket of black hair which coiled across the 
front of his body like an animal's fur. 

Shelly reached up and ran her hands over his chest, combing her fingers 
through the thick, curling hair, tracing the play of his rippling 
musculature through the taut, coarse skin. Her heart was racing like mad. He 
was such a powerful, virile specimen of manhood it made her faint to be near 
him, and to feel the animalistic lust he exuded like a pungent odor. His 
dark, bestial eyes were glowing with dangerous lights, and he was breathing 
harshly as he gazed down at her. 

Vince dropped down on the hay, planting his hands on either side of the 
trembling blonde wench. He lowered himself on top of her, sliding his arms 
around Shelly's slender middle and crushing her svelte, girlish figure 
against his brutish physique. Shelly thought her ribs would crack as he 
embraced her ferociously, flattening her aching tits against his hirsute, 
bulging chest. She felt his hot breath on her cheek, and then, with a growl, 
Vince crushed his big, wet mouth against her tender lips, kissing her 
greedily. His big sloppy tongue squelched between her teeth and probed the 
inside of her mouth, sucking up her saliva eagerly. He kissed and sucked at 
the lower part of Shelly's face, nearly smothering her in his excitement, 
his heavy body bearing down on her and practically knocking the breath from 
Shelly's lungs. 

She whimpered, running her hands across his broad hairy back, shuddering in 
delight as she felt the powerful stud roll on top of her, hunching his hips 
back and forth. His enormous ten inch pecker sawed to and fro, sandwiched 
between their bodies, burning against her quivering tummy like a hot iron 
rod. 

Vince slid one of his big meaty hands down her body and groped between her 
legs. His fumbling fingers quickly located the sweet, puckered opening of 
her snatch, and he probed it lewdly. Vince was a man who satisfied his 
appetites like an animal. He didn't know much about gentleness. He took his 
women instinctively, and brutally. Now, he jammed his thick digits cruelly 
into Shelly's vaginal furrow, worming his fist back and forth until he had 
pushed them all the way inside the tight, succulent sheath of velvety flesh. 
Shelly gasped as a sudden shocked of pain cut through her. 

She was a bit dizzy by now with lust, and the brutality with which the big 
stud was having sex with her was a sharp, though not entirely unpleasant, 
contrast to the idyllic love-making she had enjoyed with Rick Crawley. 

The intrusion of his thick, calloused fingers in her sensitized pussy 
quickly began to send rushes of euphoric pleasure rippling through Shelly's 
quivering loins. Vince watched her face as he frigged his hand back and 
forth, a lewd grin creasing his rugged features. 

"You like that, don't ya, baby? You got a hot little pussy, babe, real hot 
and tight!" he said crudely. 

Shelly whimpered and chewed on her lower lip, beginning to undulate her hips 
and buck against the thrusts of his fingers. Moist squishy noises emerged 
from between her legs as her juices began to flow freely, lubricating her 
aching vaginal chasm. Vince wormed his fingers back and forth, spreading 
them wide, preparing her chute for the onslaught of his mean-looking cudgel. 

He grinned with savage lust. Hell, he'd show this saucy little cunt what it 
was like to really get fucked! And he'd make her scream for more! 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Vince brought his wet fingers to his mouth, savoring her sweet feminine 
flavors. 

"You want me to fuck you, Shelly?" he said mockingly, gazing down at her 
with dangerously glittering eyes. 

Shelly quailed beneath his stare, but her body was on fire. She felt 
helpless and a bit frightened, but above all, incredibly horny. 

"Y-Yes, Vince! Please! Please fuck me!" she whimpered. 

With a grin, he lifted himself off of her, planting one hand beside her in 
the hay and fisting the root of his enormous barbed lance. Scrunching his 
butt forward, he prodded the slick, pink opening to her honeyed bower of 
bliss with the bloated crown of his thrusting truncheon. He nestled forward 
until he felt the puckered glans securely grasped by the swollen, clenching 
maw of the blonde sixteen year old slut's hungry pussy. 

Then, he braced himself above her, planting both hands in the hay and 
positioning himself above Shelly as if he were about to do push ups. Shelly 
was shuddering uncontrollably with expectant ecstasy. She ran her fingers 
over his burly, hirsute chest feverishly, uttering little mewling noises of 
nervous anticipation. 

Vince gave a loud grunt, lunging forward. His buttocks tightened and bucked 
downward, his pelvis arching as he plowed savagely against the resisting 
opening of Shelly's orifice. It stretched wide, wider, and wider still, 
gaping impossibly to accommodate the enormous proportions of the 
Italian-American stud's throbbing joint. Vince pumped vigorously, driving 
more than half of his pecker inside of Shelly's cunt in no time at all, 
groaning in satisfaction as he felt the clinging satiny membranes snap 
tightly around his steely tool. 

Shelly screamed. White spots flashed before her eyes and her vision swam as 
ripples of sheer agony tore through her loins. It felt as though someone had 
rammed their fist brutally up inside of her. The pain was almost unbearable. 

"N-NOOOO!" she sobbed, beating him on the chest with her fists, "T-TAKE IT 
OUT! TAKE IT OUT! AIEEEEEE!" 

Vince grunted, oblivious to her pleas, pounding his hips forward, 
lasciviously grinding his pelvis as he sank more and more of his heavy 
manmeat into her aching hole. With a final thrust, he sank to the balls 
inside of her, his hairy thighs nestling against her spasmodically twitching 
body, his belly bearing down on her soft tummy. Shelly was sobbing in pain, 
too weak to scream anymore. 

Then, Vince started to move. He pulled back his ass, drawing about eight 
inches of solid prick meat out of the violated nymphet's satiny recesses, 
and then pounded back into her, making the blonde slut's body jerk with the 
force of his thrust, her lemon-like boobs wobbling like mounds of jello. 

Through the curtain of pain which clouded her perceptions, Shelly became 
aware suddenly of a ripple of dark, billowing pleasure that accompanied this 
savage thrust. Something had begun to respond to his brutish sexual assault 
on her tender young body. Vince drew back and slammed into her once more. 
This time, the feeling of pleasure grew more pronounced, while at the same 
time, the sharp pains began to ebb away quickly. 

Vince felt her tight, clinging cuntal mouth begin to relax, and he growled 
in salacious pleasure, undulating his hips, churning her hot, unctuous 
channel with his bulging pole. 

"MMMM, baby! You's so good and tight! Yeah, take it, bitch! Take my big 
dick! I'm gonna fuck your little cunny to mush!" 

He began to stroke into her harder and harder, his sweaty, hairy belly 
mashing against her stomach again and again, his huge, swinging balls 
slapping noisily against her buns. 

Shelly gave a sob of sudden rapture, her eyes snapping open. An explosion of 
sheer ecstasy accompanied his lustful penetration of her, and each time he 
sluiced his huge, horse-sized boner in and out of her, the intensity of the 
rippling feelings of delight increased more and more. She began to hump her 
hips frantically back and forth, wantonly skewering herself on the burly 
bodyguard's ten inch pecker, whimpering and gasping as her body was consumed 
with flames of rapture. 

She ran her hands down and dug her fingers into the sweaty, hairy lobes of 
Vince's hard ass, raking her nails into his flesh and tugging at him 
frantically. She had hooked her ankles around the small of his back, and she 
tossed her head from side to side in a frenzy of desire. 

"OOOOOH! OOOOOH!" she shrieked as he humped into her hard, grunting like a 
bull, "F-FUCK ME! FUCK ME! Y-E-E-ES! DO IT! OOOOOOH!" 

"Like it, don't ya, bitch?" Vince panted hoarsely as he increased the tempo 
of his thrusts, pounding into her hard, "Like getting that hot box stuffed 
full with my big, fat dick?" 

"Y-YES! AAAAAAAH!" she gasped, sinking her teeth into his shoulder and 
groaning in passion. 

"Oh, BABY! TAKE IT! HELL, unh, unh, unh ... I I'M GONNA CUM! YEAH! TAKE IT, 
CUNT! Y A AA AARRRGH!" Vince bellowed lustily. 

He slammed into her like a power drill, rattling her bones with the ferocity 
of his strokes. Shelly felt her loins explode with violent pleasure, and 
ripples of liquid heat began to cascade through her. She screeched aloud, 
raking her nails across Vince's butt, heaving her pelvis up against his 
plunging cock. 

As Vince shuddered and grunted, his huge lust-thickened cudgel buried to the 
hilt in the blonde girl's hot, sweet twat, both of them began to come 
simultaneously. Shelly sobbed in delirious ecstasy as she felt her womb 
being blasted with heavy, gushing spurts of virile man juice. At the same 
time, her cunt shuddered and spasmodically milked at his spitting joint, her 
heated, oily love fluids swirling around his penis copiously. 

With a groan of spent pleasure, the husky bodyguard sank on top of Shelly, 
his big sweaty body bearing down on her trembling, curvaceous figure. She 
ran her hands up his slick, hairy back, inhaling the scent of his musky 
masculinity, gasping and shuddering as the throes of her euphoric multiple 
orgasm began to ebb away. 

Vince rolled off of her onto his back in the hay, panting, his shrinking 
dong resting wetly on his belly. Shelly raised herself on one elbow and 
kissed him lightly on his stubbly cheek, running her fingers through the 
damp hair on his chest. 

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said sweetly, "Wait here, darling. I'm 
not through with you yet." 

Vince flashed her a lewd grin, watching with unabashed lust as she walked to 
the gate of the stall and swished out, turning to wink at him lasciviously. 

Shelly's legs were shaky after the exhausting fuck she'd just had, but she 
had her plan all worked out. She darted straight to the stall where she had 
undressed. Grabbing up her dress, she also took Vince's pants and 
undershorts, and raced to the bathroom. When she got inside, she locked the 
door and scrambled into her dress. 

There was a small window above the sink, just big enough for Shelly to 
squeeze through. Tucking Vince's trousers and underpants under one arm, she 
squeezed through the window and hopped to the ground outside the stables. 
Immediately, she dashed down the dirt road toward the apple orchard. 

Shelly knew every nook and cranny of her father's estate, probably better 
than anyone else. She also knew the easiest way to get over the high wall 
that surrounded the estate, without getting detected. A heavy vine encrusted 
the wall in back of the apple orchard, and the dexterous sixteen year old 
girl clambered up it easily, hanging over the other side and dropping to the 
ground. 

The town of Bogenville was just down the road. She hurried in that 
direction, and when she got to the first phone booth, she stepped inside, 
inserted a dime in the slot, and dialed a number. She had a brief 
conversation with someone, hung up the phone, and stood impatiently by the 
booth, waiting. 

A few minutes later, a white Porsche glided up, driven by a strikingly 
handsome young man of about thirty. 

"Hey, there, cuz! Long time no see!" he said, grinning at Shelly as she 
slipped in beside him. 

"No time to chat right now, Larry," Shelly said quickly, "I'm getting away 
from Dad! Take me to your studio!" 

As they drove along, she told him the true story of her "kidnapping" and 
what she had been going through the last few weeks. 

Larry Krugar listened to her in silence, his handsome face frowning in anger 
as he learned the details of her father's oppressive behavior. Larry was 
Shelly's cousin. His mother was Bertram Sanderson's sister. Bertram had 
treated her very shabbily, refusing to have anything to do with her when she 
married a man without a fortune. He had allowed her child, however, to 
occasionally come to visit, and Larry had been the closest thing to a 
childhood friend Shelly had had. 

Larry had grown up to be a strapping, handsome young man. He was tall and 
well-built, with short blonde hair and twinkling gray eyes. He was a 
photographer, and a damned good one at that. His pictures had appeared in 
major magazines across the country, and he had now earned a small fortune 
from his career. 

"Yeah, you got a ass deal, all right, honey," Larry growled, "I'll do 
anything I can to help you. Anything." 

Shelly shifted her eyes and gave him a sideways look. 

"Anything, Larry? Anything at all?" she asked innocently. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

Shelly took a deep breath and said slowly, "The thing that scares my father 
most is scandal. What I want to do is this. I want to seduce him. And I want 
you to secretly photograph the sex session we have. The existence of 
pictures of him fucking his own daughter would be more than enough to 
blackmail him for anything I want." 

Larry whistled, glancing at her in amazement, flashing her a wolfish grin. 

"Hell, honey, you really hate the guy, don't you?" 

"You better believe it," she said grimly. 

"And what do I get for a reward for helping you on this dangerous venture?' 
Larry said kiddingly, his gray eyes twinkling as he looked at her. 

Shelly flashed her handsome cousin a voluptuous smile. 

"Wait till we get to your studio, and then I'll show you," she said sexily. 

Ten minutes later, Larry Krugar was hungrily kissing the lips of his 
beautiful blonde cousin. They were standing in the middle of his large, 
well-lit studio. Strobe lights and spotlights surrounded them, as well as 
several expensive cameras on tripods. 

"Mmmmm, honey, you don't know how many times I've dreamed of making it with 
you!" Larry muttered huskily as he slowly unzipped his cousin's dress. 

She smiled at him sensuously and said, "J always thought you were kind of 
cute, too!" 

Larry's gray eyes were sparkling with interest as he stepped back and 
critically surveyed his gorgeous relation. 

"Say, Shelly, would you mind if I took some pictures of you? You're really a 
stunningly gorgeous chick! You should be a model!" 

He darted around behind one of the cameras, switching on various lights and 
turning a spotlight so that the beam fell across Shelly's body. 

He started clicking away, talking in a husky, erotic voice. 

"Yeah, that's it, baby! Strut your stuff! Pose for me, sweetheart! That's 
it! Hold it! Beautiful! Now, start to take your clothes off. Slowly, baby, 
slowly. One strap at a time! Beautiful! Yeah, give me a flash of tit! Hold 
it! 

Nice, honey, real nice!" 

Shelly was getting off on this new experience. Sensuously, she drew her 
dress down around her hips, posing in lascivious positions, tossing her long 
blonde hair back and forth, pouting her crimson lips and lowering the sultry 
lids of her long-lashed eyes. She begin to seductively shimmy the frothy 
white dress down about her ankles. 

As he clicked his camera, darting to another camera to take pictures from 
another angle, Larry dropped his hand to his trousers, unzipped them, and 
whipped out a hefty nine inch pecker. It thrust in front of him impudently, 
throbbing with excitement as he photographed his lovely cousin in various 
stages of undress. Every once in a while, he dropped a hand and pumped his 
rigid meat back and forth. His gray eyes were burning with licentious 
excitement. 

Shelly had begun to move around on her own accord. She skipped over to a 
sofa which was set up in front of a backdrop which was a blow up of a 
spectacular view of a beach in Hawaii, resplendent with palm trees and a 
shimmering sunset. 

She reclined on the sofa and lay her head against one of the arms, her 
blonde hair spilling in golden waves about her beautiful features, like a 
halo. She lifted one long, sultry, tanned leg and hooked it over the top of 
the sofa, letting the other dangle on the floor. Her sweet, peach-like 
cuntal lips were spread apart, and glistened in the spotlight. Lewdly, 
Shelly began to run her hands down the front of her body, cupping and 
stroking her pillowy breasts, drawing her fingers down to her slick vagina. 
She caught hold of her sweet pussy lips and plucked at them with her 
fingers, running the edge of her thumb back and forth across her clitoris. 
She arched her back and mewled in delight as she sensuously played with her 
snatch. 

Larry was ecstatic with delight. He grabbed a hand held camera and rushed up 
in front of the sofa, dropping down on one knee and snapping rapidly, taking 
close-up shots of her bright, juicy cunt, of her quivering, erect breasts, 
of her lovely, lust-reddened features. 

"Oh, BABY! You're a fuckin' natural!" he murmured in excitement. 

Shelly's hot eyes darted down and affixed themselves to the sight of her 
handsome cousin's rigid boner which stuck obscenely out of his fly. 

"Why don't we halt the photo session so you can join me for a little fun?" 
Shelly said in a luscious voice. 

"Hold it a second, sweetheart," Larry said excitedly. 

He darted back to the three cameras he had on tripods. Fiddling with them, 
he loaded them all with film and set their timers. Then, he hastily stripped 
off his clothes and darted back to the sofa. Every few seconds, one or 
another of the cameras would click, automatically capturing the hot and 
heavy sex scene on film. 

Shelly watched with smoldering eyes as her blonde, hung cousin sprinted over 
to her. He had a long, lean, sinewy body, his chest covered with fuzzy 
blondeish hair. His big pecker wiggled in front of him impudently. He stood 
above her, gazing down at the lovely sixteen year old slut with blazing 
eyes. 

Shelly whimpered in pleasure, reaching out and drawing her warm fingers 
around the base of his cock. She began to lewdly stroke it up and down, 
reveling in the sensation of the silky flesh stretched taut over the rubbery 
hardness of his cock. Larry groaned in delight as she titillated his penis 
with her fingers, sending darts of pleasure shooting through his balls. 

Shelly reached forward and opened her rosy lips wide, thrusting out her 
tongue and slipping her mouth eagerly around the bulbous knob of his 
erection. She sucked it greedily, tasting the spunky flavor of his sex, and 
began to bob her head rapidly back and forth, sliding more and more of the 
slick, pulsating manmeat into her oral orifice. She hummed contentedly as 
she sucked at his dick, her silky tongue sluicing back and forth around the 
corrugated, bloated sides. 

Shelly ran her hands up his tense, muscular legs, and then began to tickle 
his balls with the tips of her fingers as she slurped and sucked at his cock 
hungrily. 

"Oh, baby! Suck it! Suck it! Yeah!" he groaned, tangling his fingers in her 
hair and swiveling his hips lewdly. 

He drew back after a while, pulling his pecker out of her mouth. It smacked 
up wetly against his hard belly. Grinning wolfishly, he crawled onto the 
couch and began to kiss his cousin on the mouth, running his hands up and 
down the front of her body. He was hot and ready, and so was Shelly. The 
cameras kept clicking as they kissed and caressed one another. , Larry 
grasped her legs beneath the knees and pushed them up almost to her 
shoulders, spreading them wide. Scooting down, he gave a soft growl of 
delight, dipping his face down and burying it in her fragrant, oozing muff. 
His tongue wriggled deeply inside the throbbing furrow, tasting her sweet 
oily juices which had began to run freely. As he licked her lewdly, lashing 
his tongue up and down the puffy crevice, Shelly felt bursts of exquisite 
delight explode in her sex-crazed loins, and she bucked her hips wildly, her 
fingers strumming at her own erect nipples, gasping and mewling in pleasure. 

"Ooooh, lick it, Larry, darling! Lick my sweet cunt!" she whimpered sexily. 

Her fingers ran through his short blonde hair as his head dipped and 
oscillated between her creamy thighs. 

With a grunt of concupiscence, Larry rose up on his haunches, sliding his 
arms around Shelly's uplifted legs and lowered his pelvis upon her. His 
bulging boner prodded her saliva-saturated cuntal mouth, and as he began to 
pump his hips back and forth, he gave a groan of delight when her hot, 
hungry pussy easily sucked his throbbing pecker deep inside of her. Vince 
Cuccarese had battered her wide open less than an hour before, so she had no 
trouble at all adjusting to Larry's hard, nine inch phallus. It felt so good 
to have it imbedded deeply inside of her! 

The hot lights were making them perspire heavily, and their golden brown 
bodies glistened as they fucked like animals, their bellies slapping wetly 
together, moist squelching sounds emerging from the vortex where their 
groins met. 

"Ohhhh, fuck me, Larry, FUCK ME!" 

Shelly exclaimed, running her hands up and down his broad sweaty back as he 
screwed her lustily. 

The sofa shook and squeaked under the exertion of their movements. Larry 
bent down and hungrily kissed his cousin's mouth, his long, swarming tongue 
tangling with her smaller, pink one. He sucked up her saliva, growling with 
bestial delight. 

After a while, he drew his face away from hers and said huskily, still 
driving his prick into her sweet, sucking fuck hole, "You ever been screwed 
up the ass, honey?" 

Shelly's baby blue eyes widened and she gasped, "No! Can you do it that 
way?" 

"You better believe it, sugar! And some gals really get off on it! Want to 
try?" 

Shelly's heart beat quickened. She was game to try anything that expanded 
her sexual horizons. 

"Sure!" she said shakily, shudders of erotic anticipation ravaging her body. 

With a salacious grin, Larry pulled back, drawing his nine inch piston-like 
truncheon out of his sexy young cousin's notch. He gripped hold of one of 
the gorgeous blonde slut's legs, pushing it even farther forward. With his 
free hand, he reached down, sliding his fingers over the pillowy plumpness 
of her succulent ass cheeks. He peeled them back and gazed down greedily at 
the winking pinkness of her puckered anal orifice. 

Larry was really horny by this time, or he might have gone a little easier 
on the vulnerable girl whose virgin anus was awaiting his assault. He might 
have licked her rosy ass-hole and stretched it with his fingers. But he was 
too hot to get his throbbing ramrod inside the silky sheath. 

He gripped hold of his wet, sticky pecker and guided the fat, dripping head 
between the plump, pliant curves of his cousin's buttocks, nudging up 
against the pouting sphere of slick flesh. He groaned as he felt it 
spasmodically push and suck at the tip of his cock, feeling the heat that 
rushed from her deep, tight rectal chute. 

He nestled closer, and began to fuck his hips gently to and fro, leaning 
into her, gradually increasing the force of his thrusts. Shelly's mouth 
snapped open and she gave a strangled scream of mingled pain and pleasure as 
his fat cockhead began to stretch her protesting sphincter muscle 
impossibly. Throbs of agony pierced through her when the swollen knob slid 
suddenly inside of her, the tight, clutching ring of her ass-hole muscle 
snapping snugly around the top of his pecker shaft. But, as Larry began to 
hump his hips rhythmically, ripples of dark, shuddering pleasure began to 
course through her bowels, gradually intensifying as he burrowed deeper and 
deeper inside of her slick, glove-like colon. 

Larry groaned in satisfaction, oscillating his hips lewdly, savoring the 
sensation of having his entire prick encased in the slick, squeezing sheath 
of her rectal membranes. The heat of her insides burned into his sex tool 
deliciously, and as he fucked in and out of her ass, hot ripples of pleasure 
ricocheted through his muscular body. 

He began to sodomize her in earnest. Planting his hands on either side of 
her, pushing one of her legs forward while the other hooked around his back, 
Larry fucked her ass-hole hard, driving in and out of her lustfully. 

'Yeah, Shelly! Feels good now, doesn't it? You like getting your hot butt 
screwed, babe?" he growled lewdly. 

"Y-Yes, oooooh, YES!" Shelly whimpered, throwing her arms around his neck 
and bucking up against him salaciously. 

The strange sensations which Hooded through her guts had rippled through her 
loins as well, and flames of fiery delight began to consume her. She tossed 
back her head and grimaced in ecstasy. 

"AAAAAH! AAAAAAH! L-Larry! I I'M GONNA . ... AAAAIEEEEE!" 

She started to come violently, in her cunt and in her ass, and the feeling 
was tremendously pleasurable. Her senses swirled and rockets went off behind 
her eyes. She dug her fingers into the lusty blonde stud's sweaty back and 
sobbed in ecstasy. 

Larry groaned as he felt her sphincter muscle convulse and frantically tug 
at the root of his pumping pecker, milking it violently. Something curdled 
deep within his swinging balls, and he increased the pace of his fucking. 

"Unh, unh, unh!" he grunted savagely, "Unh! H-Here I come, baby! HERE I 
COME! AAAAARRRRRGH!" 

He plunged deeply inside her scalding, clinging guts, his bulging boner 
shuddering and twitching as it gushed thick, creamy streams of hot semen 
deep inside her bowels. 

The cameras kept clicking as the two cousins ground to a sweaty halt in each 
other's arms. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Late that evening, a white Porsche glided to a halt on the side of the road 
in back of the apple orchard of the Sanderson estate. Larry and Shelly 
climbed out of it. Larry carried a knapsack on his back, laden with camera 
equipment. He was also carrying a coil of rope with a metal hook on the end. 

This, he swung over his head and tossed over the high wall. It hooked on a 
crevice on the other side of the wall as he tugged on it, testing to see if 
it could hold his weight. Then, he climbed up quickly, and held the rope for 
Shelly who scampered up after him. 

The cousins clambered down the vine-encrusted side of the wall and made 
their way stealthily to the Sanderson home. Shelly took him around to the 
servants' entrance. She knew where the key was hidden to the back door, 
under a flower pot on the terrace, and they went in and crept down the 
hallway. 

They climbed the staircase to the second floor of the huge mansion, and 
Shelly led Larry to the big sitting room which opened onto a veranda. She 
unlatched and pushed open the big French windows, and motioned for Larry to 
go out on the veranda. There, he took out a camera with high speed film, and 
dropped on one knee, testing to see if he could get adequate shots of any 
section of the room, without being spotted. He was dressed in black; a 
sweater and trousers and a dark woolen cap to make him less easy to see in 
the dark. 

Shelly went back into the room and shut the windows, latching them again. 
She stood back and surveyed them critically. With the lights on, a 
reflection of the room glittered on the window, completely obscuring a view 
of the veranda. She couldn't see Larry at all. 

She nodded gleefully at him, and then indicated that he try taking some 
pictures to make sure the sound of the clicking camera wasn't audible in the 
room. 

Again, the experiment was successful. With the windows closed, Shelly 
couldn't hear a thing. 

"O.K.! " she mouthed quietly, "Wait here! I'll be back in a moment!" 

She darted down the hall to her bedroom. Slipping inside, she stripped and 
got into a very voluptuous, transparent pink negligee. Underneath, she put 
on a pair of silky satin panties. Surveying herself critically in the 
mirror, Shelly smiled in triumph. She looked positively gorgeous and 
incredibly sexy! Her soft, thrusting breasts pressed against the gauzy 
material lewdly, and the skimpy panties clung to her soft, puffy mons 
veneris like a second skin. 

Quickly, she slipped out of the room and scampered back to the sitting room. 

Then, she went to the phonograph, put on a record and played it softly. She 
turned all the lights on, and went to the house phone. She picked it up and 
pressed the button which would make it ring in her father's bedroom down the 
hall. 

At the first ring, he picked up, his voice coming alert and clear through 
the receiver, "Yes?" 

"Hello, Daddy!" Shelly said sweetly. 

"Shelly? Where are you?" he snapped. 

"In the sitting room, Daddy dear." 

There was a pause on the other end, and then her father said tersely, "Wait 
there." 

There was a click as he hung up the phone. Shelly went over to the couch and 
sat on it, resting her head against the back, dropping one leg off the couch 
and drawing the other up underneath her, creating a very sexy pose. 

She soon heard her father's authoritative step in the hall, and the door 
flew open. When Bertram Sanderson entered the sitting room that evening, he 
was a very angry man. 

Vince Cuccarese had been fired. He had called the house from the phone in 
the stables in a highly embarrassed state. He had not only lost sight of 
Shelly, he had lost his trousers, too. He had refused to divulge the 
circumstances that had led to such a bizarre situation, and Sanderson had 
sent him away at once. 

Bertram was used to sleeping in the nude. He didn't like pajamas; thought 
they choked his body. So, when he found out his missing daughter had 
returned home, he merely threw on a robe and strode across the house to see 
her. 

Shelly gazed up at him sweetly. Her father's face was blanched with anger, 
his green eyes snapping with fire, his mouth grim. But, through the haze of 
rage that made him tremble and grit his teeth, he felt a wave of shock at 
seeing in his daughter for the first time a voluptuous, sexy young woman. He 
couldn't contain an uncomfortable stirring in his loins at the sight of her 
virtually unclothed, curvaceous young form, and the sexy look in her hooded 
blue eyes. 

"Well, what have you to say for yourself, young lady?" he said coldly, 
standing in front of her and folding his arms. 

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Shelly asked in feigned surprise, batting her 
eyes at him coquettishly. 

"Where the hell have you been all day?" he barked. 

"Well, let me see," she said musingly, "First of all, I seduced Vince, and 
we fucked like rabbits in the stables, and then, I stole his pants and 
sneaked into town, and then, I just fooled around for the rest of the day. 
It was lots of fun!" 

Bertram's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! That foul 
street language coming from the lips of his sweet and innocent daughter? It 
was like a slap in the face. 

"That's enough of your insolence, young lady!" Bertram roared, "I'm going to 
teach you a lesson now you're not likely to forget!" 

He strode over to her and bent down, yanking her to her feet. He sat down on 
the edge of the couch and unceremoniously threw his pretty blonde daughter 
across his knee. He yanked up her negligee, baring her high, dimpled, 
translucent buttocks. They wobbled invitingly, shining creamily in the 
light. Bertram hesitated for a fraction of a second as he stared down at his 
daughter's ass, feeling an even more powerful surge of lust rush through 
him. 

Then, as angry at himself as he was at her, he brought down his big, beefy 
hand across her tender buns. Shelly yipped in startled pain, her father's 
hand print burning red in her pale, wobbling buttocks flesh. With a savage 
grunt, Bertram spanked her again and again, raining heavy blows across her 
buttocks with his hand. 

"OWWWWW! D-DADDY! STOP! STOP! YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Shelly screamed as he 
spanked her soundly. 

Her ass felt like it was on fire. Each time he hit her, it stung through her 
in white-hot waves. But through her sobs of agony, Shelly felt a shuddering 
of peculiar sensual arousal begin to take possession of her. The pain was 
becoming exciting. She began to shriek and whimper, but she wriggled and 
bucked sensuously in his lap the same time. 

Bertram Sanderson's senses were swirling. His breath sprayed harshly between 
his clenched teeth as he slapped his daughter's ass cheeks again and again. 
But mingling with his ire was a savage, building lust, rippling deep in his 
groin. 

Dizzy, sick images began to spill from his unconscious. He imagined Shelly 
getting fucked by Vince Cuccarese, he imagined her sucking on the big stud's 
cock, he imagined her stripping and dancing lewdly in front of dozens of 
ogling men and women who lined up to enjoy her voluptuous, sluttish body.... 

Bertram Sanderson continued to spank his daughter hard, but something 
uncontrollable was happening to him at the same time. He was getting an 
erection. 

Shelly felt it prodding against her stomach insistently, a huge, beefy 
projection of thick, pulsating meat, every bit as big and fat as Vince 
Cuccarese's pecker had been. She wormed her belly back ond forth across it, 
and then she slid a hand beneath her, groping for the prick. 

Sanderson shuddered as he felt his sobbing daughter's small, soft fingers 
squeeze around the rigid, red-hot tip of his raging erection. Wild flames of 
lust were beginning to consume him, and his heart beat violently in his 
heaving chest. 

"You really are a filthy little slut, aren't you?" he snarled, slapping her 
ass one last time, "Well, bitch, I'll keep you under lock and key from now 
on, and if you're such a horny slut, I'll take care of that problem, 
too-myself!" 

He roughly shoved her off his lap, sending her sprawling on the floor. Then, 
he stood up and undid the belt of his robe, tossing the garment off. He 
towered above her, naked, his eyes glinting with brutish passion. 

Shelly gazed up at him with trembling baby blue eyes, a quiver of lust 
darting through her loins. Her father's huge, vein-etched cudgel bobbed in 
front of him, throbbing with passion. Her eyes darted over the broad, hairy 
chest, and admiringly traced the bulges and ripples of his muscles beneath 
his taut flesh. 

Bertram reached down and gripped hold of his daughter by a hank of her 
blonde hair. With a salacious growl, he pulled her forward savagely, drawing 
her face between his burly legs. 

"Suck my balls, bitch!" he grunted thickly, pushing her face into his groin. 

Shelly found her soft lips and little upturned nose buried in the thick, 
sweaty pubic bush that surrounded her father's prodigious member. She 
inhaled the pungent scent and mewled with pleasure, her wanton, rosy lips 
puckering as she kissed and laved at his hairy thighs. Reaching up, she 
tickled and squeezed his big swinging nuts, feathering her lips across the 
coarse, wrinkly flesh and lashing her tongue across them in lewd swishing 
motions. The taste and odor of his spunky manhood was making her dizzy with 
desire. 

"Now my prick, cock-sucker! Get your Daddy's fuckin' prick in your mouth and 
suck on it good!" Sanderson snarled. 

Shelly whimpered, her fingers gliding up her Daddy's thighs and closing 
around the bulging base of his big boner. She drew her hands up and down the 
bloated length of his corrugated staff, drawing it down and pointing the 
pouting glans at her puckered lips. She kissed off the glistening droplet of 
sticky liquid that had oozed from the piss slit, tasting the salty flavor, 
and then she spread her lips wide, snapping her jaws open as far as they 
could go, and slowly allowed the enormous mauler to slide over the silken, 
wriggling trough of her tongue, which curled around the vein-etched base, 
brushing back and forth in seductive sliding motions. 

Bertram Sanderson gave a loud moan of pleasure as his cock-hungry sixteen 
year old daughter wrapped her warm, bloated lips around the base of his 
throbbing pecker and began to suck it ardently, sliding her head back and 
forth and making moist slurping noises. Flames of prurience burst through 
his quivering balls and ricocheted through his big, brawny body, setting his 
nerve endings on fire. 

"Yeah, baby! Do it! Suck that goddamn dick! Swing on it, cunt! Work your 
sweet tongue around your Daddy's dong! YEAH!" 

Shelly gave a muffled moan of delight, running her hands up the backs of her 
muscular Daddy's legs, digging her fingers into the sweaty, hairy lobes of 
his hard ass cheeks. He had begun to pump his hips back and forth, feeding 
his big dick into her mouth, churning his cock lewdly in the satiny, heated 
orifice. 

He ran his powerful fingers through her hair, jerking her head forward 
against his crotch, making her gag when he plunged harder and harder against 
the back of her throat. 

On the veranda, Larry Krugar was having a ball, clicking pictures like mad. 
The light was perfect, as was the positioning of the incestuous father and 
daughter. He instinctively knew that the photographs would be excellent. 

Bertram released his daughters head and stepped back suddenly, panting 
hoarsely. His huge horse-sized dick flapped up smartly against his belly, 
quivering and dripping with saliva. 

"O.K., slut, get down on your hands and knees like the bitch you are!" he 
snarled, his green eyes glinting with lust. 

His pretty blonde nymphet of a daughter obediently got on all fours, poking 
her sweet, high, dimpled buns at him and wriggling her hips lewdly. Her 
succulent, budding boobies quivered as they swung pendulously beneath her, 
and her long blonde tresses spilled about her shoulders like sun shine. 

Hell, she was gorgeous! Sanderson thought to himself, his senses swirling. 
She looked so much like Aurora it was uncanny ... His wife had been only 
seventeen when he had begun to court her, just a year older than Shelly, and 
he remembered the first time he seduced her, in the back seat of his 
Cadillac. That was the last time he had been this turned on. 

He dropped to his knees on the heavy fuck carpet in back of his trembling 
blonde child. He ran his hands over her smooth, tan back and down to the 
sweet, pale globes of her cantaloupe-sized buns, squeezing the quivering, 
translucent flesh lewdly. 

Shelly whimpered, lifting her ass instinctively. He gazed down and saw 
beneath the arched buns the open lips of her dripping, quivering vagina, 
begging for attention. He grinned savagely. Shit, if the little nymphomaniac 
wanted to get fucked, he was her man! 

He gripped his pecker firmly about the trunk and guided it down, aiming it 
at the peach-like mouth of her sweet, aching cuntal chute. Pumping his hips 
forward, he lodged the head of his cock in the honeyed orifice, swiveling 
his pelvis lasciviously, giving a grunt of satisfaction as he felt the pull 
of her hot, sucking furrow on his puckered glans. 

He brought his hands up and gripped her about the slender waist, digging his 
fingers cruelly into her flesh. Shelly "whimpered in anticipation, her body 
already awash with flames of lust. Sanderson braced himself, and then gave a 
loud, bestial grunt, gritting his teeth as he thrust forward hard, his 
buttocks tensing. He humped forward and at the same time, yanked his 
daughter's nubile young body back against his loins. 

Shelly gave a wavering wail of delight as her Daddy's ten inches of solid 
flesh and gristle slid easily up to the balls in her furnace-hot, wet, 
satiny sleeve of a cunt. A little shock of pain cut through her when the 
brutal penetration first occurred, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the 
familiar explosive series of pleasurable ripples that began to build in her 
hungry, hot loins, intensifying as he drew his big ramrod back and forth, 
slamming it savagely against her cervix again and again. 

"MMMMM, BABY!" Sanderson exclaimed hoarsely, "So nice and tight! Yeah! You 
got a great fuckin' cunt, bitch!" 

He began to rhythmically slam into her, rocking from side to side and 
savoring the delectable feeling of his daughter's seething, clenching 
honeycomb of a pudendum massage and pump at his obscenely thick sex tool. 
His sweaty belly and thighs slapped moistly against her quivering buttocks 
as he rhythmically humped into her, fucking her with great gusto, little 
bestial grunts spraying from between his clenched teeth. 

"You like that, slut? You like having your big Daddy's prick stuck inside 
your sluttish twat?" he growled thickly. 

"OOOOH, Y-YES, DADDY! YES! DO IT, DADDY! FUCK ME! I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME 
HARD! HARDER! OOOOOH, Y-Y-E-E-S! AAAAAAH!" Shelly exclaimed brokenly, 
tossing her blonde tresses from side to side in a frenzy of passion, 
punching back wantonly against his powerful strokes, her body alive with the 
exquisite sensation of being stuffed full of her father's rock-hard, 
inflamed boner. 

Without missing a beat, Bertram continued to pump in and out of his daughter 
as he reached for the phone on the table beside the couch. He pressed the 
button which made it ring in the room of his new "secretary" Tricia 

Mowler. 

Her sleepy voice spoke groggily over the phone. "Hello?" 

"Tricia?" Bertram barked lustily, still fucking his daughter hard, "Get your 
pretty little ass over to the sitting room fast! But be presentable. By 
that, I mean, your pretty little ass better be bare, and you better be ready 
for some hot action! See you in a couple of minutes?" . 

"Of course, Mr. Sanderson!" 

He hung up the phone and resumed his fucking. He pounded into his daughter 
hard, skewering her relentlessly on his ten inch rod. Shelly's insides were 
being churned to butter by her Daddy's hot pole. She felt the ripples of 
pleasure begin to increase rapidly, and a fireball started to form in the 
pit of her belly, threatening to explode. 

"Ooooh! OOOOOH! D-DADDY! I I THINK I'M GONNA COME! OOOOOH! OOOH, Y-YES! 
YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM, DADDY! AIIEEEE!" 

The pretty perky blonde tossed back her head, her face flushed with 
licentious delight, as rockets and stars burst in front of her sex-dazzled 
eyes. Blossoming explosions of sheer ecstasy flooded through her 
constricting, sucking pussy as gushes of her sweet, unctuous juices spilled 
and sluiced around her Daddy's ceaselessly plunging lance. 

Bertram gave a lewd grin, continuing to fuck her spasming pussy. 

"Yeah, wiggle your sluttish little ass, cunt! I can feel you coming! Yeah! 
Squirt that pussy juice! Milk my prick! But don't think we're through yet, 
babe! Not by a long shot!" 

The door opened, and Tricia Mowler hurried in. Her long reddish hair hung 
like strands of flame about her shoulders, and her sleepy face looked puffy 
and sensual, her full, crimson lips puckered and sweet-looking, her hooded 
brown eyes, doe-like and moist. 

She was stark naked, her big, pillowy breasts swinging as she moved, the 
large, puckered nipples the color of strawberries. Her pubic triangle 
glinted a dark reddish hue in the light, and she looked positively 
succulent. 

"Yes, Mr. Sanders ... ? " she began cheerfully, her voice trailing off in 
amazement as she found herself gaping at the spectacle of her employer 
lustily screwing his own daughter's hot, buttery cuntal chasm. 

"Get your sweet ass over her honey and let this little horny bitch get a 
taste of your hot pussy!" Bertram ordered in no uncertain terms. 

"Why, y-yes, sir, whatever you say," Tricia murmured doubtfully. 

The zoftig redhead sauntered over in front of Shelly and dropped to her 
knees in front of the pretty blonde debutante. 

Shelly's senses were still reeling from the violent orgasm which still 
wracked her body with exquisite aftershocks, and she gazed in a haze of lust 
up at the stacked, curvaceous slut her father had rented from his high class 
prostitution agency. 

Shelly had never made it with a woman or girl before, but suddenly, the 
prospect of tasting that big, bushy red cunt made her salivate with desire. 
Her hot blue eyes flicked down from Tricia's big, pendulous breasts which 
the woman was caressing and pinching sexily, to the soft, sloping hill of 
her muff. 

"Suck that pussy, Shelly!" Bertram snarled. 

He reached forward, grabbing her by the hair, and brutally shoved her 
forward, pressing her face into the lambent, fragrant orifice. The pink, wet 
lips of Tricia's vagina slopped wetly around her face, and Shelly 
automatically flicked out her tongue, sluicing it up and down the hot, 
buttery slit. It tasted strangely sweet and feminine, and whetted Shelly's 
sensual appetite all over again. She mewled in delight and began to dart her 
tongue up and down rapidly, burrowing it deep into the big woman's snatch. 
She pressed her lips eagerly to the puckered slick cuntal petals as she 
noisily slurped at Tricia Mowler's hot box, and her exploring tongue soon 
discovered the quivering, erect, oily button of the sexy secretary's 
clitoris. Shelly began to strum the love stick with the tip of her tongue, 
sending electric shocks of pure pleasure rippling through Tricia's 
curvaceous body. 

"OOOOH, OOH MY!" Tricia gasped, bucking her hips back and forth frantically, 
"That feels so nice! OOOOH! OOOH, y-your daughter's tongue is so HOT, Mr. 
Sanderson! My goodness!" 

"Yeah! Yeah! Eat her fuckin' cunt, bitch! It it good!" Sanderson exclaimed 
hoarsely, his face red with unbridled lust. 

He slammed into Shelly's cunt harder and harder, sliding forward and 
gripping hard to his daughter's waist with one hand as he reached out and 
began manipulating and squeezing one of Tricia's Mowler's big, 
marshmallow-like tits with the other. 

"Awwww, HELL!" he barked suddenly, throwing back his bull-like head and 
snorting frantically as he pounded into Shelly mercilessly, "TAKE IT, BITCH! 
I'M GONNA SHOOT MY WAD! YAAAAARRRGH!" 

Shelly gave a muffled moan of delight as she felt her father brutally sawing 
in and out of her aching, squelching pussy. His rigid joint began to shudder 
and quiver inside of her, and then, her hungry womb was blasted with searing 
jets of heavy, bubbling manjuice. Squirt after squirt of the spunky goo 
hosed into her throbbing young body as the big, sweating stud grunted and 
groaned in blind, animal pleasure, swiveling his hips and shuddering as he 
emptied his balls of a lusty load. 

"OOOOh, OOOOH, OOOOOOOH!" Tricia Mowler was squealing frantically, pumping 
her pussy frantically against Shelly's face, mashing her oozing, heated 
pussy against the girl's sucking, licking mouth, "Oh, MY! M-Mr. Sanderson, I 
do believe ... Oh! OOOH! Y-YES! I I'M GOING TO CLIMAX! YIIIEEEEEE!" 

She screeched violently, digging her long nailed fingers into Shelly's 
blonde hair and tugging the little slut's head desperately as she came. 
Shelly gasped as hot squirts of the woman's love liquid spattered onto her 
probing tongue. She gulped it down greedily. Outside on the veranda, Larry 
Krugar was having a field day. He'd already taken three rolls of film.... 

"What is the meaning of this?" Bertram Sanderson snapped, as his daughter 
stepped forward and handed him a heavy manila envelope. 

After the hot and heavy fucking session he had conducted with the girl, a 
session which had lasted most of the night, he had locked her in her 
bedroom. The next morning, he found that she had escaped through her window 
and was no where to be found. Now, she had turned up the following 
afternoon, as cool as a cucumber, and had announced to him that she had a 
"business proposition." 

"I think those photographs speak for themselves," Shelly said calmly, 
perching on a chair in front of her father's desk. 

Impatiently, Bertram tore open the envelope and dumped a large pile of 
glossy photographs onto his desk. He gave a strangled gasp, his eyes bulging 
and his face blanching as he saw what they were. With trembling fingers, he 
picked them up, rippling through them, his body bathed in a cold sweat. The 
pictures were of excellent quality, with sharp, clear images which left no 
doubt as to who the participants were and what they were doing. There were 
dozens of them, all showing Bertram, Shelly, and Tricia Mowler, in various 
lewd, sexual postures. 

Bertram felt a surge of crafty anger, and he scooped them up and said 
acidly, "Yes, but I have the pictures now, don't I?" 

"Don't be a fool, Daddy. You're in no position to play the authoritarian at 
this point," Shelly said calmly, "Of course, my friend has the negatives. 
And, he has orders to release them to a dozen magazines with a complete and 
explicit story by me detailing a life of sordid domination and sexual 
molestation. In my little memoir, I claim that you raped me at the age of 
eleven and have been subjecting me to sexual acts by force ever since. I 
also claim that you engineered the murder of my lover, Rick Crawley, who 
tried to rescue me from you. I don't think you'd have much of a defense 
against these pictures or my story." 

Bertram sat heavily in his chair, feeling thoroughly cornered for the first 
time in his life. There was no way out of this one. 

"What do you want from me?" he said weakly, "You name it, you got it, only, 
don't release the photos or the story. Please." 

Shelly felt a surge of triumph, and she looked contemptuously at the 
sweating, uncomfortable looking man who was her parent. Bertram realized 
suddenly that she hated him, and the realization came as a shock. 

"I have several demands," she said calmly, "First of all, I am leaving this 
estate and you for good. You are never to try to see me or interfere with my 
life again. I am to have an allowance of ten thousand dollars a month for 
the rest of my life, and you will provide me with an apartment in 
Bogenville, which I have already chosen. You will have to sign all of these 
papers which I've had drawn up, detailing the agreement." 

She passed him a sheaf of papers, and continued, "Secondly, you will issue a 
nation-wide statement that the detectives you hired to track me and Rick 
Crawley were responsible for the accidental death of my lover. In the 
statement, you will apologize for issuing wrongful information to the press. 
Your daughter was not kidnapped, but eloped with the young man, who was 
innocent of any crime. You can say that your anxiety as a parent made you 
want to protect your beloved child from scandal, or some such nonsense. I 
guarantee it, you'll get nothing but sympathy from the press. But I want 
Rick Crawley's name cleared." 

Bertram gave a deep sigh, shaking his head and smiling weakly. 

"You drive a hard bargain, honey," he said with reluctant admiration, But I 
have no choice. You win. But what about the pictures?" 

"You have until twelve o'clock noon tomorrow to comply with all my demands. 
If they are not complied with by that time, the photographs ad story will be 
released. If you have kept your promise, I will have all the negatives sent 
to you and you can do with them as you choose. And this, Daddy, is the last 
conversation will shall ever have. Goodbye." 

The pretty sixteen year old blonde, mature beyond her years in more ways 
than one, rose and walked out of the office and out of her father's life 
forever. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Shelly surveyed her new apartment with great satisfaction. The interior 
decorators had just finished making it over for her, and it looked terrific. 
It was a large, roomy apartment with a veranda that looked out over a 
beautiful pond. There were three large bedrooms and five other rooms, and a 
John for each bedroom. It was modest, but exactly what she wanted. She was 
tired of living in houses in which one could get lost. She wanted to be a 
normal human being for once. 

The plan had worked beautifully. The next day, the story hit the press and 
was built up as a tragic romance. She kept seeing photographs of herself and 
Rick in gossip magazines with soppy headlines like: THE TRUE STORY OF THE 
STAR-CROSSED MODERN ROMEO AND JULIET or SHELLY'S SORROW. 

Sanderson had made sure that he didn't come across as a villain. He 
portrayed himself as the grieved, loving parent who desperately wanted to 
protect his child from scandal, but decided in End that his integrity was at 
state if he continued to "evade the truth," as he put it in his press 
release. The detectives responsible were put on trial and found guilty of 
manslaughter; a prime witness for the prosecution was Moira Bradshaw, the 
proprietress of the Bates Motel. She was also one of the people most 
interviewed by the pulp papers, and her story of the star-crossed lovers 
grew more fanciful each time she told it. 

Now, nearly two months had gone by and things were settling down to normal. 
Shelly had just signed a contract with a major modeling agency, and would 
start workin" n a week. Her liberal allowance from her mother insured that 
she had nothing to worry about in terms of finances. 

She was eternally grateful to her cousin, Larry, and they dated for a while, 
fucking with relish, enjoying each other's bodies. But they gradually 
realized that their affectionate feelings for one another, and even their 
erotic feelings, were not those of two people in love, but of friends. So 
now, though they kept in close contact, they had begun to see other people. 

Shelly had been mildly amused to read in the papers that Bertram Sanderson, 
her father, was engaged to marry one Patricia Mowler. She gathered by 
reading between the lines that the sultry redhead may have pulled a few 
power strings herself to get the role of millionaire's wife, following the 
lead of Bertram's daughter. Shelly did not receive an invitation to the 
wedding, which didn't surprise her. 

Now, as Shelly looked about her apartment, she sighed, feeling a sudden wave 
of emptiness. She had achieved what she set out to do. She had avenged 
Rick's death, she had broken free from the oppressive chains her father had 
kept her in for so many years, she was beginning a life of her own. But 
there was still a huge blankness in her life, an emptiness that needed 
filling. She felt a wave of sorrow as she remembered those brief intimate 
moments she had enjoyed with Rick. But she quickly suppressed those 
feelings. She would always love Rick and never forget him, but he would not 
have wanted her to spend her life mourning for him. She was determined to 
get back on her feet again as soon as she could. 

The door bell rang, and Shelly raised her eyebrows in surprise. She thought 
it might have been one of the interior decorators coming back to pick up 
something he had left behind, so she went to the door and opened it without 
asking who was there. 

"Good afternoon, ma'am," a rather shy, husky male voice said softly. 

Shelly stared into the face of a very handsome young man. He was in his 
early twenties, a tall, powerfully built fellow who looked like an athlete. 
He was wearing a suit which looked awkward on his brawny six foot two inch 
frame. He had dark brown hair, cropped very short, and brilliant, emerald 
green eyes. When he smiled, shyly, it was one of the most beautiful smiles 
Shelly had ever seen. 

But what transfixed her most was the definite feeling that she knew this 
man. There was something extremely familiar about him, and yet, in that 
familiarity she had an eerie sensation that she had never seen him 
before.... 

"Good afternoon," she said quickly, realizing that she was staring at him 
rather rudely, "I'm sorry, but I seem to have forgotten who you are. Haven't 
we met before?" 

The young man smiled again, looking down at his feet, and shifting from one 
to the other with embarrassment. 

"Uh, no, ma'am, we've never met. You were a good friend of my brother's. My 
name's Kurt. Kurt Crawley." 

Shelly gave an exclamation of sharp surprise as a flood of recognition came 
over her. The resemblance to Rick was uncanny, and her mind had blocked the 
recognition because it was too close to her deepest emotions. 

She felt her senses whir and her knees grew weak, and then everything went 
black. When she came to, Shelly felt something cool on her forehead and 
blinked her eyes, finding herself staring up into the anxious face of Kurt 
Crawley. He had carried her to a sofa and was patting her forehead with a 
damp towel. 

"Oh, my," she said. "Oh, my," she said, laughing shakily and sitting up, 
"I've never done THAT before! You must forgive me. It was such a shock. You 
You look so much like, like him...." 

She broke off in a sob, her blue eyes filling with tears. He knelt beside 
her, drawing a strong arm around her shoulders. 

"I know," he said gently, "I'm sorry, I should have called first. I came by 
to return this check which you sent to my father. He says to tell you he 
can't accept it, though he's very grateful to you." 

He placed an envelope on the coffee table. Shelly had sent the old man a 
check for five thousand dollars the week before, with a letter telling him 
all about the relationship she had had with his son, and promising to send 
him more money in the future. 

"Your poor father," she said, wiping away her tears, "He must hate me so." 

Kurt stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking a little awkward 
again. 

"No, he doesn't hate you," he said slowly, "Not any more. Not since he's 
understood what really happened between you and Rick. He knew the kidnapping 
story was a lie, and he didn't understand why you didn't tell the truth 
about it. Nor did I. Now it's clear that your father was responsible for all 
that." 

"Yes," Shelly said, nodding, "I didn't even know that a false story had been 
circulated to the press until weeks afterwards. Or I would have acted 
sooner. But I was too distraught, and my father kept me virtually as a 
prisoner. But I have broken with him now. We are no longer on speaking 
terms." 

"I'm sorry for that," Kurt said, "I hope you are going to be all right now. 
If there's anything you need...." 

"Thank you, Kurt," Shelly said, smiling tremulously up at him, "I'm fine 
now. I think things have turned out well, even though Rick isn't here to 
share my life with me. He's responsible for my freedom." 

"I'll leave you alone, if you like," Kurt said, making a move toward the 
door, "I just wanted to return the check to you, with my father's thanks." 

"Don't go!" Shelly said suddenly, "Why don't you stay? We can talk and have 
dinner together. I was feeling rather lonely." 

Kurt smiled at her and sat down again. It was a very full and emotional 
afternoon. They talked about Rick and about each other. Kurt was 
twenty-three, several years older than his brother. like Rick, he had joined 
the Navy, and had got out of the service several months before. He had gone 
to California and worked as a construction worker. He had returned to be 
with his father when Rick died. 

Mr. Crawley had been fired from Wigginham Academy directly after Shelly's 
disappearance. But, with the recent surge of interest in the true story 
behind the elopement and a flood of sympathy for the wronged, dead youth, 
Miss Marchmont had graciously reinstated him as gardener, with a substantial 
raise. 

As they talked, both young people began to feel very close to one another. 
Without even consciously realizing it, they were soon behaving like old 
friends. There was an instinctive attraction between them. 

That evening, they went out for dinner at a cozy little restaurant in the 
vicinity, and then they went out dancing and had some drinks. At about 
ten-thirty, Kurt escorted Shelly home. Both were a little tipsy and in a 
good mood. 

"Well, good night, Shelly," Kurt said at the door to her apartment. 

Shelly lifted her lovely blue eyes and looked into his warm green ones, and 
said softly, "Why don't you come in for a night cap?" 

At that instant, they both realized the sudden change which had come over 
their relationship. They were no longer grieving inlaws, but two vital, 
attractive young people with feelings for one another that were growing 
stronger by the moment. 

They entered Shelly's apartment, and she turned on some music and poured 
them two glasses of Drambuie on the rocks. They sat together on the couch, 
sipping .the sweet liqueur and gazing into each other's eyes. 

"You are very beautiful, Shelly." Kurt said huskily, "More beautiful than in 
the papers." 

He placed his glass on the coffee table and bent over, sliding a hand behind 
the back of her neck and gently drawing her face against his. They kissed 
softly, their warm lips brushing together with tenderness. Shelly sighed and 
opened her mouth slightly, pressing against him and throwing her arm around 
his neck. 

Kurt kissed her hungrily, their teeth knocking together, and his warm tongue 
probed the insides of her mouth. Shelly purred in satisfaction as she tasted 
his saliva, shivering as his hard, urgent lips crushed against her fuller, 
softer ones. 

She felt a delicious awakened wave of desire coursing through her. Her hands 
fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Kurt drew away from her and quickly 
undid his tie, helping her with the last few buttons. He shook his shirt off 
of his shoulders, tossing it over the arm of the couch. 

Shelly had dimmed the lights and lit two candles on the coffee table. In the 
golden, flickering light, she regarded the handsome young stud's naked torso 
with unabashed admiration. He was a fine speciman of a man. His broad, 
muscular chest rippled and bulged with power, as did his arms. The broad 
chest tapered into a slim, tight waist-line with a rippling washboard belly. 
As a sailor and then, as a construction worker, he had worked hard, building 
up his body until now he was a very strong, fine-looking man. 

He reached out and gently eased the straps of Shelly's dress over her 
shoulders. She sighed and reached behind her, drawing down her zipper. 
Standing up, she let Kurt pull her dress down about her ankles, and she 
stepped out of it, wearing only her brassiere and panties. 

Kurt smiled with pleasure as his warm green eyes traveled over her body. She 
was so delectable, so lovely, so sexy! He watched as Shelly unhooked her bra 
and the white garment fluttered to the ground. Her full, blossoming breasts 
quivered like lobes of pale marshmallows, the raspberry-hued nipples ripe 
and turreting. As she shimmied out of her panties, her soft, sparsely furred 
mons veneris glistened in the candle-light, the silky hairs glowing like 
slivers of spun glass. 

He reached out and drew his hands up her body slowly, sliding them up her 
slender waist and over the full, thrusting orbs of her tits. He gently 
swirled his thumbs in a circular motion of the puckering nubbins, feeling 
them throb and grow erect beneath his touch. 

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against her soft belly, kissing her 
flesh softly as he manipulated her boobs in his big, strong hands. Shelly 
whimpered in delight. He slowly worked his way up to her breasts, sliding 
his warm lips over the protruding hills of flesh, affixing his mouth to each 
of her rivet-like nipples and sucking them greedily, his long, wet tongue 
flailing back and forth and strumming the fingers of erect flesh 
lasciviously. 

Shelly whimpered in delight, running her fingers through his short dark hair 
and trembling as acute waves of desire rocked through her nubile young body. 
She stepped back suddenly, her full, jiggling tits glistening with the young 
stud's saliva. 

Shelly gazed down at the handsome, powerfully built man on his knees in 
front of her, and with a sigh, she dropped down beside him, drawing her arms 
around his neck and kissing him softly on the face, on the lips, the cheeks, 
the eyes. She moved down, running her hands over the chiseled contours of 
his torso as her moist lips and tongue traced patterns across his hot flesh. 
She flicked at his hard brown paps with her tongue, tasting his masculine, 
sweaty flavor and loving it. She rolled her lips over the rippling muscles 
of his belly, dipping her tongue briefly into his deep navel. Then, she came 
to his trousers. 

She had noticed early on in the evening what an impressively bulging basket 
the handsome young stud had. Now, his trousers were tenting outward 
alarmingly, and she cooed in anticipation as her fingers fumbled with his 
belt. She unbuckled it and slowly, seductively, pulled down his zipper. 

She drew his pants down about his knees, and gasped in surprise and delight 
at her initial sight of what they contained. He was wearing jockey shorts, 
but his raging erection had lifted the elastic and protruded into the air, 
thrusting obscenely upward at a forty-five degree angle. 

Shelly immediately ascertained that the young stud had the biggest cock she 
had ever laid eyes on. With a whimper of excitement, she tugged at his 
shorts, drawing them down quickly, releasing his gargantuan pecker and huge, 
swinging set of orange-sized testicles. Her baby blue eyes were round with 
delighted amazement. 

She looked up at Kurt and he grinned at her sheepishly, shrugging his 
shoulders. He was used to the incredulous expression girls got when they 
first got a glimpse of his impressive prick. He surely had one of the 
biggest cocks in the country, and was proud of it. When fully erect, it 
jutted an incredible eleven inches in the air, straight as a ramrod, and 
hard as an iron pole. Right now, it was just about as hard as it ever had 
been. Kurt Crawley was so incredibly turned on by Shelly Sanderson that his 
libidinous juices were already flowing like liquid fire through his loins. 
She was the most exciting, sexiest girl he'd ever met. 

Shelly closed her fingers around the base of Kurt's massive pecker, gasping 
at the size of it, feathering her cuticles across the corrugated, blazing 
flesh. She bent down and blew hot air on the puckered glans. Then, her 
tongue shot out and flicked back and forth over the spongy surface of his 
mushroom-shaped knob. She hummed in delight as she tasted his masculine 
flavors, running her puckered lips down the sides of the pulsating ramrod. 
Her hands slid down to his balls, lifting and tickling them. She greedily 
sucked and licked at the length of his swollen, erect prick until it was wet 
and glistening with her warm saliva. 

Kurt groaned in pleasure, running his fingers through her long blonde 
tresses, shudders of rapture wracking his brawny, masculine physique. He 
gasped as the blonde slut's hot mouth grazed over his tightening nuts. 
Shelly gently nibbled on the fleshy sac, swirling her pink, wet tongue back 
and forth across the large, scum-filled gonads, inhaling the heady, pungent 
scent of his sex, her senses swirling with passion. 

She ran her hands over the hard, flexed cheeks of his grapefruit-sized 
buttocks, digging in her fingers as she nuzzled his balls wantonly. 

Kurt reached down and gently lifted her up, sliding his powerful arms around 
her waist and drawing her against his brawny, heavily muscled chest. He 
kissed her hungrily, and stood up, lifting her with him. Bending down, he 
slid one of his arms under her knees, putting the other under her back, and 
easily picked her up. Shelly sighed, looping her arm around his broad, 
bull-like neck and kissing his throat as he carried her to one of the 
bedrooms. 

He gently laid her down on the huge, king-sized bed, resting her head on the 
fluffy pillows, and crawled on top of her, lowering his brawny, hot body on 
top of her lithe, curvaceous form. They caressed and kissed hungrily, their 
hands traveling over one another's bodies, exploring their nooks and 
crannies. 

Then, Kurt started to get aggressive. He moved down on the bed, kneading the 
lovely blonde's full pliant breasts in his big hands, and tugging on the 
ripe, erect nipples with his lips and teeth, growling with salacious 
excitement. 

He scooted down on the bed until he was facing her creamy thighs and the 
sweet, peach-like softness of her girlish twat. Bending forward, the lusty 
stud inhaled the delectable fragrance of her pussy. It rushed through his 
blood like an aphrodisiac, setting his carnal lust on fire. 

He pressed his face eagerly between her thighs, his long, athletic tongue 
slurping up and down the slick, puckered slit of her snatch, tasting her 
feminine flavors. Shelly gasped and whimpered in delight as a shock of sheer 
pleasure rippled through her loins. Her hunky lover's tongue delved between 
the delicate, pinkish petals of her cuntal furrow, stroking in and out in a 
fucking motion, sending exquisite darts of pleasure rushing through her. She 
began to undulate her hips against Kurt's face, moaning in rapture, running 
her fingers feverishly through his short dark hair. 

Kurt ran his fingers up her trembling thighs and dug his thumbs into the 
lips of her twat, spreading them apart. His tongue ferreted out the 
twitching button of her girlish clitoris and began to strum it seductively, 
making Shelly cry out in euphoric pleasure. Then, he started to probe the 
velvety vaginal channel with his fingers. Still licking and plucking at her 
clitoris with his tongue and lips, he began to stroke two fingers in and out 
of her tight, hot chasm, driving them deeper and deeper inside of her. 
Shelly gasped in pleasure, bucking wantonly against his hand and 
instinctively spreading her legs to give him more room. He worked a third 
finger inside of her, and began to worm his hand back and forth lewdly, 
spreading his fingers and fucking them in and out, preparing her hot, 
buttery cunt for his enormous cudgel. 

Shelly was getting dizzy with excitement. The young stud's tongue and mouth 
and fingers were quickly bringing her to the verge of orgasm. 

"OOOOH, K-Kurt!" she gasped brokenly, "That feels so GOOD! But I want you 
inside me! I want you to fuck me, darling! Please fuck me! I want your big 
cock buried deeply inside my pussy!" 

Kurt drew his fingers out of Shelly with a moist popping sound and scooted 
up till he was face to face with the flushed, blonde beauty. He grinned 
wolfishly at her, his lips glistening with her sweet, unctuous fluids. 

"You want me inside you, babe?" he asked huskily, running a finger lightly 
across her warm, flushed cheek. 

Shelly nodded mutely, her big blue eyes glistening with quiescent pleasure 
and expectation. 

Kurt bent forward and kissed her on the mouth, slowly easing his big, brawny 
body on top of hers. Shelly shuddered as she felt his enormous eleven inch 
truncheon slide back and forth across her belly, slick with her saliva and 
pulsing with lust-heated blood. 

Kurt slid his hands down her body and gripped her calves firmly, spreading 
her legs with his knees and lifting his lower body off of her. 

"Put your legs around my middle, honey," he said huskily into her ear. 

Whimpering, Shelly complied, locking her ankles around the small of his 
back. 

Kurt planted his knees wide apart and slid his big hands underneath Shelly's 
soft, pillowy buttocks, lifting them slightly. Slowly, he began to lower 
himself upon her, reaching down and grasping his big penis, guiding the fat, 
knobby tip between her slick, buttery thighs and prodding it against the 
wet, shivering opening of her bower of bliss. 

Shelly sobbed in delight, running her hands feverishly through her brawny 
lover's hair and arching her back as she felt him prepare to penetrate her 
cock-hungry body. 

Kurt pumped his pelvis gently to and fro, gradually increasing the force of 
his thrusts. Slowly, the big pulpy tip of his gigantic organ spread apart 
the petal-soft silkiness of Shelley's vaginal lips and began to jam it's way 
into the tight, hot channel of her vagina. 

Shelly gave a high-pitched scream of ecstasy as she felt her cunt getting 
stretched farther than it had even been stretched before. Her body jerked 
convulsively as Kurt began to lean forward, sawing his hips to and fro, 
driving inch after massive inch of rigid cockmeat deep inside of her. 
Finally, he sank his enormous truncheon all the way inside the tight, satiny 
sheath, and groaned in pleasure as he felt the clutching mouth of her sweet 
furrow snap securely around the base of his pecker. He rocked lasciviously 
on top of her, savoring the sensation of having his stiff, sensitized 
phallus completely ensconced by the silky membranes of her sex. 

Growling with virile pleasure, he began to pump back and forth, fucking her 
sensuously, stirring his hips back and forth and churning her hot, quaking 
cunt with his bulging tool till she moaned and whimpered in rapture. 

Kurt gripped her shivering buttocks tightly and began to tug her up against 
his muscular thighs as he pounded into her again and again. Their moist, 
sweaty bellies began to slap together, mingling with the sounds of their 
squelching sex organs, and with the loud moans and screeches of delight that 
fluttered from Shelly's feverish lips. 

She felt herself becoming overwhelmed by the incredible sensations flooding 
through her body. She began to arch her back and oscillate her hips, pumping 
frantically to meet his lusty strokes. 

"OOOOOH! OOOOOH! YES, KURT, YES! F-FUCK ME! HARDER! AIEEEE!" she screeched. 

"Yeah, baby, take it, take it deep!" Kurt grunted in her ear, slamming into 
her hard, "Oh, honey, that's so nice! Take my cock, baby! Em gonna shoot 
soon, honey, oh, YEAH!" 

He pounded into her hard, the force of his athletic strokes making the big 
bed creak and bounce. Shelly's hands ran down Kurt's sweaty back and she 
raked her nails into the hard, pumping curves of his tight, muscled 
buttocks, drawing him deeper and deeper inside of her. 

Kurt threw back his head and roared like a bull as his balls tightened and a 
lustful explosion ripped through his loins. 

Shelly's eyes bulged as she felt his huge truncheon expand deep inside of 
her, and her womb was blasted with thick, hosing jets of hot, creamy jism 
which shot from her brawny lover's balls in endless streams. 

The force of his lusty orgasm triggered her own cataclysmic response. 

She threw back her head and shrieked, "AAEEEEEEEEIIIEE! I'M CUMMING!" 

Rockets burst in her head as her entire, quivering body was convulsed in the 
most glorious, mind-wrenching orgasm she had ever had.... 

They lay for a long time in each other's arms, caressing and kissing, 
savoring the smell and taste of each other's bodies. 

Finally, Kurt said reluctantly, "I'd better get dressed and go home." 

"Kurt, darling," she said softly, "You ARE home." 

EPILOGUE 

The next morning, Shelly was awakened by a soft kiss, and opened her eyes to 
look up into the face of her new lover. Kurt Crawley gazed down at the 
lovely blonde beauty who lay naked on the bed, her beautiful golden tresses 
framing her oval, porcelain-hued face with its limpid blue eyes and sultry, 
strawberry-colored lips. Hell, she was a knock-out! 

His hands moved up her lusciously curvaceous body, gently cupping and 
squeezing the soft, thrusting globes of her breasts. He kissed the hollow at 
her throat and then said huskily, "Well, what do you say we head for the 
beach today?" 

Shelly's face brightened and she sat up at once in bed. 

"Oh, golly, that's a great idea!" she exclaimed happily, "To celebrate!" 

She looked at him lovingly, running her little hands over the hard, muscular 
slopes of his chest and drawing them about his bullish neck. Leaning 
forward, she kissed him softly on the mouth, and then darted up and dashed 
toward the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, Kurt heard the shower running and her sweet voice 
singing as she washed off. 

He grinned and padded into the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge, and by the 
time Shelly had come out of the bathroom in search of him, Kurt had rustled 
up some eggs and bacon and coffee for breakfast. 

"Why, you sweet thing!" she exclaimed in delight, kissing him on the cheek, 
"A man who can cook! Imagine!" 

Kurt grinned at her and said mockingly, "Oh, I don't intend to make a habit 
of it honey. I just thought after the gruelling work out I put you through 
last night you needed a little babying today!" 

Shelly laughed and made a face at him. "Do I look like I'm any the worse for 
wear?" she said challengingly. 

Kurt sheepishly grinned and shook his head. 

"Well, there you go," she said, "I'll bet YOU'RE the one who got the hardest 
work out!" 

Kurt snorted and said, "Oh, yeah? Who's the one who finally fell asleep when 
she couldn't move a muscle in her exhausted body?" 

Shelly giggled and conceded. She made them a picnic lunch, and then they 
piled into her car and drove to the beach, which was only about ten miles 
away. It was a deliciously warm morning with the sun out and not a cloud to 
be seen in the sky and the gorgeous young couple were in high spirits. The 
cloudy, unhappy events of the past were momentarily forgotten, and the only 
thing they had on their minds was the love they had discovered, and their 
mutual desire to learn more about one another. 

They drove along the strip of white beach, past the areas where people 
flocked together like sardines, until they finally came to a stretch which 
was virtually deserted. Dunes bristling with desert vegetation lifted and 
fell, and here and there a solitary sun bather could be seen flopped out on 
a beach blanket, with a radio on beside him or her. 

Kurt picked up the picnic basket and cooler while Shelly grabbed the towels, 
and they trudged through the hot sand to a soft stretch of beach which was 
completely deserted. 

They spread out a big beach towel, and stripped down to their swim suits. 
Kurt hadn't had a swim suit with him, of course, but Shelly had just 
happened to have one of her cousin, Larry's, in her room. Kurt had scowled 
at her with feigned jealousy when she produced it. 

"O.K., where is he?" he growled, "Under the bed?" 

Now, as they lay on the towel, side by side, caressing each other gently and 
talking in low voices, their eyes drinking in the wondrous sight of one 
another's bodies, they talked about their past loves, seeking to learn as 
much about one another as they possibly could. 

After a while, Kurt became aware of how hot it was, and he nudged Shelly 
playfully. 

"Come on, babe," he said, "Let's hit the water!" 

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" she giggled, leaping to her feet. 

They dashed through the hot, white sand toward the mesmeric, greenish ocean 
with its lapping, foamy surf sucking at the coastline rhythmically. The cold 
water swirled around their ankles and legs as they plunged rashly into it, 
and they both gasped and howled in delicious shock, diving headlong into the 
cool shallows. 

The water enveloped them like ice, and they gasped and sputtered, their 
bodies tingling, laughing and ducking one another and swimming around to 
keep their circulations moving. After a while, they got used to it, and it 
was wonderful. 

The waves were small and lazy today, and they frolicked in the surf alone. A 
long way down the beach were several sunbathers, like ants dotting the white 
of the sand. Other than that, they were alone. 

Kurt drew his strong arms around Shelly, pulling her to him in the water. 
She gladly embraced him, pressing up against him, gasping, rubbing her body 
against his warm, muscular physique, absorbing his natural warmth. 

Kurt tilted her face upward with his hand and bent down, kissing her softly 
on the lips. His hand slid around the back of her neck and he pulled her 
face hard against his, kissing her hungrily. His tongue scraped between her 
teeth and probed the interior of her mouth, swabbing up her saliva eagerly. 

Shelly sighed and kissed him back, her body alive with desire, her nipples 
beginning to grow erect beneath the skimpy fabric of her bikini top. They 
were mashed against his hard, rugged chest, and she ran her hands down his 
broad back, quivering as she felt the rigid length of his manhood pulsing 
against her thigh. Her heart beat violently in her chest, and she felt 
renewed desire course through her like liquid fire. 

Never had she wanted a man like she wanted him now! Her need was a living 
thing inside her, consuming her. She whimpered and kissed him hungrily, her 
hands moving feverishly up and down his back. 

Kurt slid his hands up his lover's back and skillfully undid the string that 
held up her bikini top. He gently drew it off and playfully slipped it 
around her neck. His hands moved up the front of her body and cupped and 
clenched around her breasts, squeezing them until the pliant, golden flesh 
squelched between his fingers. 

Then, he drew his hands down the length of her body, hooking them in the 
elastic of her bikini bottoms. Slowly, he began to pull them down, and with 
a sigh, Shelly aided him, treading water and lifting her legs so he could 
slip the skimpy garment over her ankles. 

Kurt then caught hold of his own shorts and quickly yanked them off, sliding 
both pairs of bottoms over his arm for safekeeping. Then, he caught Shelly 
in a hungry embrace, folding her against him and kissing her like there was 
no tomorrow. 

He caught her about the waist and lifted her up until her breasts were level 
with his face. The succulent lobes of flesh were quivering and glistening 
with sea water, looking ripe and delectable. With a growl of salacious 
excitement, he planted his lips upon one of the strawberry-colored rivets of 
flesh and sucked hard, drawing it into his mouth and plucking at it until it 
grew hard and throbbed with delight. 

Then, he moved on to the other nipple, sucking it greedily. Shelly sighed 
and whimpered in delight, running her fingers through his short, damp hair 
and quivering all over. 

Kurt lifted her higher until he was holding her by the hips and had her 
thighs level with his face. Shelly braced herself by digging her fingers 
into her shoulders and she gave a low sob of pleasure as she felt his hot 
breath on the soft, delicately fringed 'V of her cunny. 

Kurt's tongue swiped out and licked the quivering pink slit, tasting the 
salt of the ocean and the sweet, feminine flavor that was Shelly's own. His 
rigid, mammoth sized pecker jerked and quivered in desire as he mashed his 
face wantonly between her thighs, thrusting his tongue deeply into her cunt 
and wriggling it back and forth. 

Shelly gasped, and then suddenly pushed away from him, giggling playfully. 
She dived under water and swam up to him, running her hands up the muscular 
trunks of his calves and catching hold of his huge, eleven inch cock. She 
opened her mouth and took as much of it inside as she possibly could, 
sucking at it eagerly, her tongue swirling back and forth, feathering across 
the tender, swollen glans. 

She ran her hands over the hard, clenched cheeks of his ass as she bobbed 
her head back and forth, sucking him underwater. Finally, she couldn't hold 
her breath anymore and she shot upward, breaking the surface of the water 
with a gasp and throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him all over the 
face. 

Kurt grabbed her legs and drew them around his middle. Obediently, Shelly 
locked them together at the small of his back and she gave a tremulous sigh 
as she felt him begin to hunch his hips back and forth, his big, long 
manmeat sliding over her belly, throbbing and heavy. 

He reached down and fisted the gigantic root, guiding it between Shelly's 
opened thighs until he felt the thick, mushroom-shaped head lodge in the 
sweet, buttery opening of her cunt. 

He gripped her soft, pliant ass cheeks and slowly began to rock her back and 
forth, humping his hips forward and sinking inch after inch of his rigid, 
solid pole in her throbbing, cock-hungry pussy. 

Shelly tossed back her head and sobbed aloud in passionate delight, gripping 
tightly to Kurt's shoulders as he impaled her underwater on his huge 
manmeat. Oh, it felt SOOO GOOD! She wriggled her hips wantonly, pumping them 
forward until every last centimeter of his rigid flesh was ensconced in her 
velvety chasm. 

"Oh, baby, you're the greatest!" Kurt groaned. 

He began to pump his hips lustfully back and forth, fucking her hard, making 
little lapping wavelets around their gyrating bodies. 

Shelly gasped and shuddered in delight as her dream man, the man with whom 
she would live for the rest of her days, fucked her with his mammoth ramrod, 
fucked her gloriously in the green, still ocean. She was in seventh heaven 


THE END
